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sunderwight · 3 days

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SV AU where Shen Yuan transmigrates into a dragon.

It's not so bad, at first. He's an extremely magical sort of dragon so he can easily take on a humanoid shape, and he has dominion over an entire mountain, with a magical gate that leads to his palace. Said palace has a fully stocked treasury, a library, garden, etc, with the only real downsides being that the place is kind of huge and very difficult for a neet with limited housekeeping or landscaping skills to keep up with. The original dragon had enslaved a bunch of fairy spirits to do it for him, but since Shen Yuan has moral objections to that, he'd let them all go and they'd run off before he could even think to offer to hire any of them as paid employees instead. Not that he can blame them for being in a hurry to get gone.

He does his best, and generally enjoys being a dragon lazing on his mountain, or wandering the beauty of his palace and investigating the books and scrolls kept there. He doesn't actually seem to need to eat or drink, so that's not really an issue, and nobody looks keen to bother him. But after a few months the dust starts to really pile up, and trying to figure out how to do his own laundry without modern equipment leads to several disasters, and even though he doesn't need to eat he's starting to think it would be quite nice to have a fancy sit-down dinner and enjoy it for its own sake anyway. He has an enchanted larder but his food prep skills aren't up to much.

So, Shen Yuan ventures away from his mountain. He keeps to his human disguise when he's not traveling, and at first tries to hire on some help from a nearby city. But when he explains that he lives on the mountain, he realizes the difficulty, because everyone in the area knows that only the dragon lives there. So they all think he's either a liar or a fraud, or some servant of a nefarious supernatural creature angling to trick and possibly devour them.

Shen Yuan tries approaching another town in his dragon form, to see if anyone will actually deal with him if he's being upfront and honest about the situation, but the townspeople just panic. He returns to his mountain to rethink his strategies, and in the meanwhile the alarmed locals hire a swordsman to go after him. The guy gives him a few very painful cuts before Shen Yuan mostly-accidentally sends him careening into a boulder. One broken arm later the swordsman is gently persuaded that the pay he was offered isn't worth the effort on this job, and leaves.

Discouraged, Shen Yuan decides he's gonna give this one last try. He picks the second closest city, flies up, and is like yes hello, yes I am indeed a dragon, no I'm not trying to burn down your walls, yes it would be excellent if you stopped shooting arrows at me, look they don't even get past the scales? It's kind of silly? Okay, yes, thank you very much. Good. Now, the thing is, I'm looking for some people. I want to take them back to my mountain with me, to my incredibly nice palace, and -- what was that? A princess? No no I don't want a princess, what would I even do with one? If anything I'm looking for the complete opposite of a princess!

Anyway, the locals take this to mean that the dragon is demanding a sacrifice in the form of a pretty boy of no particular pedigree, and Shen Yuan takes this to mean that he's finally made his case clear and they're going to dig up someone who is willing to overlook his being a dragon in exchange for free room and board and fair wages out of his massive treasury.

SY's a bit disheartened when the entire city could only apparently turn up one such person -- an underfed teenage boy who looks at Shen Yuan like, despite the situation, he is still expecting to be eaten at any moment. Poor thing! But at least having one servant means he can potentially get more, especially if it all goes well. The lad can tell others that working for a dragon isn't so bad! Well, provided that he doesn't give up in alarm at the state of the mountain palace.

For his part, Luo Binghe at first thinks he's definitely going to get eaten, and then that this dragon is weirdly nice about planning to eat him, and then that maybe the dragon has other (even less savory!) plans for him, until finally he sees the state of the dragon's laundry and the foot-thick layer of dust in the corners, and gets completely distracted. Mortal terror forgotten, those floors should not be that filthy, Lord Dragon respectfully that isn't how anyone should prepare rice either, but oh Binghe has never seen a kitchen so nice before in his life...!

Anyway, needless to say, it works out just fine.

#svsss #scum villain's self saving system #scum villain #bingqiu #this is luo binghe's palace now shen qingqiu just lives there #the only hiccup is that binghe is strangely bad at convincing anyone else to come work at the palace #shen qingqiu encouraged him to assist in finding other help but somehow binghe always comes up empty handed #oh well guess they'll have to continue living there just the two of them with no one else #(this eventually does change but binghe sulks for WEEKS about it)

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twinstxrs · 4 months

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there’s probably something deeply wrong with me because every time i see someone react to the pok gukgak interrogation scene it’s like “oh no oh my god is riz’s dad a bad guy?” when the first time i saw that scene my only thought was “oh my god is riz’s dad HOT??”

#i mean admittedly my instinct was that he was lying about what he was saying & he was a good guy (which i was right about) but #it truly was like pok: i don’t give a shit about my wife & kid i only care about this job / me: pok gukgak save me… save me pok gukgak #fantasy high #dimension 20 #pok gukgak #riz gukgak #in my defense i really love spies so watching someone convincingly act indifferent about the most important part of their life… CRAZYYY #but i still feel like i’m setting back feminism so many years but also. he got acid splashed on his face & didn’t even flinch… that’s hot #guy who would literally go through hell & back bc it’s for the greater good but would also if he had to do it for the people he loves #but like. the greater good always came before the people he loves. that was the job. he loved them so much but he also missed so much #how much WAS he willing to sacrifice for the sake of the job? work is a great form of love but it can’t be the only form #especially for a young kid. but yea idk i have complicated feelings #pok gukgak u r so fascinating to me #pok sklonda riz & work as a form of love or whatever #truly would not work as a campaign & would be better as a book but young pok young kalina young sklonda… i need to know EVERYTHINGGG #the shameful thirst post -> character rumination journey of these tags is truly Something but also par for the course w/ my brain

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inamindfarfaraway · 3 months

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The Exorcists’ Masks of Virtue

The vast majority of Exorcists in Hazbin Hotel have a notable design element that other angels don’t: their masks are missing an eye. Specifically, the right eye.

I believe this is a reference to the Bible, Matthew 5:29. Jesus says, “If your right eye causes you to stumble, gouge it out and throw it away. It is better for you to lose one part of your body than for your whole body to be thrown into hell.”

He’s being hyperbolic. Mr Free Healthcare was not pro-mutilation. What he means is that you have to be willing to make sacrifices to prevent sin. The context of the eye metaphor is him condemning adultery and warning that even something as easy, casual and small as a look full of lustful intent can lead to further, worse sin if you don’t notice your sin, hold yourself accountable for it and do the work to not let it influence your decisions. This will probably be hard. It could be very, very painful. Changing your perspective can feel as horrible as plucking out your eye, so many people can’t bring themselves to do it. But although it won’t feel that way in the moment, it’s healthier for our general wellbeing in the long run to abandon traits and behaviours that damage ourselves and/or others.

(You may notice that Jesus’s teaching that you can have sinned, redeem yourself by giving up sin and thus escape damnation is the founding principle of the Hazbin Hotel. You may also notice that it contradicts everything the Exorcists believe.)

The Exorcists seem to follow this idea of painfully excising badness for the sake of the greater good devoutly to the point of placing it above teachings like ‘Thou shalt not kill’, with their job being to remove sin, in the form of sinners, to protect Heaven. Hence the missing right eyes. They’re a declaration of moral righteousness and inability to stumble.

But the truth is that the Exorcists all have their right eyes. Their flawlessness is a facade. Underneath, they are untouched, think themselves morally untouchable and, as shown by their horror and outrage when even one of them is killed, would much rather be physically untouchable too. This perfectly represents their complete unwillingness to acknowledge their own faults, let alone improve. They are never the ones who sacrifice. They force the sinners to sacrifice and don’t compensate it with any salvation. They metaphorically rip out the sinners’ eyes, but still condemn their entire bodies as inherently, permanently sinful. So they’ll just have to do another Extermination to get the other eyes! And another one to cut off their right hands! And so on until there’s nothing left.

The only exception to the rule is Vaggie, both in appearance and character. Her mask has the left eye crossed out instead. Even before her expulsion, she’s set apart to the audience as an Exorcist who has the capacity to, shall we say, see a different side of things. Her mask having its ‘sinful’ right eye reflects her understanding that the Exorcist worldview is wrong.

When she almost kills a demon child, her hateful vision clears. She discards the part of herself that’s an unquestioning, merciless agent of death, terror and grief… and as punishment for what Lute perceives as treacherous weakness, gets her eye plucked out.

Of course Lute leaves her with only the ‘sinful’ eye. It brands Vaggie forever as the inversion, a perversion, of what the Exorcists are meant to be.

You know, all this talk of eye removal in the Bible reminds of another line - ‘an eye for an eye’. Adam directly quotes it in “Hell is Forever”. He uses it to frame the Exterminations as Old Testament-style punitive justice; the sinners did harm and so they receive it. But putting aside the debate about how ethical the concept of revenge is, the entire point of taking an eye for an eye is that it’s proportional. The punishment fits the crime. If someone cuts your eye out, you shouldn’t murder their whole family in front of them and then slowly disembowel them to death. That would be the sin of wrath. You should just make them pay without excessive pain or collateral damage. This is the fairest form of revenge.

The Exorcists don’t do that! The Exterminations aren’t proportional to the wrongs of all they hurt, nor was Vaggie’s brutal punishment equivalent to her extremely mild insubordination. Lute literally takes Vaggie’s eye, and more, after Vaggie does nothing to her! That’s the opposite of the phrase! Adam and his soldiers are wrathful and cruel, deriving satisfaction from others’ suffering. But they just can’t stop going on and on about how disgustingly evil the sinners are, in total hypocrisy… despite some of the sinners being far better people than the genocidal Exorcists are… it’s like they’re obsessed with specks of dust in the sinners’ eyes when they have massive logs stuck in their own. Oh hey, that’s in the Bible too!

#both emotionally and symbolically i am rooting for vaggie or charlie to take out one of lute’s eyes #i was like ‘cool vaggie’s missing the opposite eye to her former mask!’#and then i went back and saw that her mask was also different #and then i went down a rabbit hole of biblical mentions of bad things happening to eyes #i know god and jesus (and the holy spirit) probably won’t appear in the show #at least not in person #but i do cherish the mental image of adam and his genocidal army hanging out #when jesus christ bursts in with a whip #and gets all ‘you have made my father’s house into a den of thieves’ on them but an order of magnitude more intense #because HE SAID LOVE ONE ANOTHER #WHERE IS THE LOVE #HE SPECIFICALLY REQUESTED IT #i’m not christian! i’m a hardcore atheist!#religion is just as fictious to me as egyptian mythology #however i am also autistic and have major special interests in mythology and folklore #so here i am fervently writing analysis of the sermon on the mount #hazbin hotel #hazbin vaggie #hazbin hotel vaggie #vaggie #hazbin hotel exorcists #hazbin exorcists #hazbin hotel analysis #hazbin analysis

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eternal-echoes · 4 months

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I don't know if majority of the Spy x Family fandom see this as Loid saying that sex work is work. I don't believe that's what Loid is saying here. I believe he's praising Yor for taking on such a terrible job such as sex work for the sake of her brother. If you listen to sex workers and ex-sex workers, it's not a fun job. It's repulsive reading about how men act when they believe they can buy women. What Loid sees is that Yor is willing to do anything for her brother, even if it's degrading to herself, to raise him. It wouldn't be much of a sacrifice and a merciless job if sex work isn't a terrible job. Loid probably figured that since Yor lost her parents when she was young, there wasn't much job she could take as someone with no experience, so she only had sex work as her only option. And since she loved her brother so much and wanted to keep him alive, she took on that job.

#spy x family

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swimmingismywholelife · 5 months

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All I Want (For Christmas)

Summary: The months of arguing finally comes to a head on what was supposed to be the most wonderful time of the year.

Warnings: ANGST, toxic relationship, reader is wine drunk for the beginning, panic attacks, loud arguments, heartbreak, lovers-to-exes, yes he's really doing this on Christmas

WC: 2.3K

A/N: 🎶On the fourth day of Ficmas my writer gave to me, Conor but make it angsty 🎶 Hello I hope you're all enjoying Ficmas so far! ! I don't normally write for Conor but here's a gift from me to all the Conor girlies! I hope I do him justice!

Link For the Song: All I Want (For Christmas)

"If we can make it through December

Maybe we'll make it through forever

'Cause all I want for Christmas

Is you and me to fix this."

~~~

"Are you fucking serious, Conor?!" you screamed, walking into your house and storming into the kitchen.

"I really can't be bothered with this right now, Y/N. You're drunk right now. Let's just wait until the morning before we have this discussion," he said exasperated, slamming the door behind him.

You turned to face him seething. "You knew how important this was for me! And yet, somehow you made this about yourself!"

Conor slammed his hands on the counter. "For fucks sake! I showed up didn't I!? What more do you want from me?!"

"You were so late you might as well have just not come! You completely embarrassed me!" you screamed.

"I told you I had a thing for the team I couldn't skip! I tried, I really did, but I couldn't get out of it! How many times do I have to explain that to you?!" he yelled in reply.

This wasn't the first time you'd fought about this exact issue. It was a recurring disagreement you and your boyfriend constantly had. You had always prided yourself on being flexible and understanding with him and his busy schedule, but these days it felt like you never saw eye to eye.

Tonight was supposed to be a date night to celebrate a promotion at your job. You'd been talking about it for weeks and both of you were excited for it, only for Chelsea to host an event on the same night that Conor unfortunately couldn't skip as one of the vice captains. Conor explained that he would probably be late, but you never expected he would show up almost 3 hours after your reservation. By the time he sat down, you were on your 6th glass of wine seething. Rather than a joyous celebration, your dinner was incredibly tense and awkward.

Cancelled dates weren't a new concept for you. There had been many times, especially once the season started, that something in his schedule prevented you spending time together. Usually it didn't bother you as much, but these days it felt like you weren't important enough for him. Tonight was supposed to be something to celebrate you, but it felt like you always had to sacrifice you for him, but he was never willing to do the same for you. And with alcohol coursing through your veins, the anger was all you could focus on.

"You should've just changed the date to a different one once I told you Chelsea wouldn't let me skip this event!" he said.

"I shouldn't have to!" you screamed back. "All the time, it's me making sacrifices for you! For once, I'm asking you to act like I'm a priority in your life!"

"You're being unreasonable!" he said, exasperated that you weren't listening to him. "I tried to get out of this! I asked Poch, I asked the staff, I even asked my fucking manager if there was any possibility of either changing the date or skipping it altogether so I could celebrate my girlfriend's promotion, but I couldn't. That's how it works! You knew that when you committed to this relationship."

"So now it's burden for me to ask you to celebrate me?!" you asked. "I've been to every fucking one of your events. Every home game, every final, every award ceremony, whether it be for club or country. I'm there whenever you ask me to be. And suddenly, I want the same from you and it's my fault?!"

"You're clearly not listening to me! When did I say you were a burden?" Conor asked. "You know what, why the fuck do I even bother with you? You never listen to anything except what you wanna hear. I'm sorry I was late. I'm sorry this turned out to be such a shitty night. But I'm not apologizing for standing my ground when you're twisting my words and trying to claim I've never done anything for you!"

"If you don't wanna bother, then get the fuck out! See if I care! Maybe someone who actually bothers can come celebrate with me!" you screamed, your words cutting Conor deep.

"And of course, that's the only part of the conversation you hear," he said, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Fine. If that's what you fucking want. Come find me when you're ready to actually talk."

Conor turned around, grabbed his keys and wallet, and stormed out of the house. You leaned your back to the refrigerator and slid down to the ground, tears streaming down your face. You hugged your knees to your chest as loud gasps left you. You felt like you couldn't breathe, like you were drowning in your emotions. You sat there for what felt like hours, your body shaking as your sobs grew more intense.

The moment he walked out, you immediately regretted everything you said and sobered up. You knew you were being unfair to him. You could've changed the date. You could've been more understanding. It wasn't like he planned this on purpose. He never did. Conor was always grateful for your unwavering support and felt horrible whenever he couldn't do the same for you because of his job. Regardless, he always made it up to you and always proved that he cared about you. You let your frustration build up and unfairly took it out on him.

They say drunk words are sober thoughts. And yes, while you did feel all of those thoughts to an extent, you knew that at the end of the day, he was always more than enough for you. And the moments you spent with him made all of those frustrations worth it.

Conor never came home after that. You tried calling him, but he never answered. You tried calling his closest friends, his family, and even his manager about his whereabouts, but none of them gave you an answer. They all refused to at his request. You only knew that he was safe somewhere. They all told you the same thing anyway: that the two of you desperately needed space. But you didn't want space. You just wanted him. You wanted him to know how sorry you were, that you didn't mean any of what you said.

Days turned to weeks. The air grew colder and Conor still wasn't home. Fall flew by as you wallowed in your loneliness, becoming bitter as the holidays approached. You tried decorating the house to lift your mood, but all you felt was pain. You wanted to hear back from him. You wanted to see him. You wanted him to come home to you. Even the snow outside, one of your favorite things about this time of year, couldn't mend your broken heart.

It was the night before Christmas. You were cleaning the kitchen when you heard the doorknob turn, the sound of keys clinking together stopping you in your tracks. You weren't sure who it is, your hand instinctually grabbing for a knife in case it was an intruder.

"Y/N?" you heard a voice call out.

You let out a sigh of relief and dropped the knife at the sound of your boyfriend.

"In the kitchen!" you called out.

As the footsteps grew louder, so did your heartbeat. Your hands grew sweaty, wiping them on the towel to try and stop them from shaking so much. This was the first time you'd be seeing him in weeks after all.

Your heart stopped when you laid eyes on Conor, taking note of his appearance. He looked more tired than you'd ever seen him, including after long flights for matches he'd taken. In any case, it didn't matter to you. All that mattered was that he was home.

"Hi," you said softly.

"Hey," Conor replied. "Can we talk?"

"Yeah, of course," you said wiping the counter. "Let me just finish up here, okay?"

"I'll wait for you in the living room," he said, turning to walk away.

Your stomach turned as you finished up your cleaning, unsure of what was about to unfold in front of you. Something told you that this wasn't going to be a happy ending. But you tried to be positive. Maybe you were just in your own head. Maybe you were overthinking. Everything was gonna be fine. You'd had been arguments before and you'd worked through them. This was just another one of those.

After enough stalling, you headed into the living room where Conor was waiting for you. You both sat down on the couch a distance away from each other. It was unusual considering you were usually attached at the hip.

'We're already off to a bad start," you thought to yourself.

"How have you been?" Conor asked you politely.

"Losing my mind," you said sarcastically. "I haven't heard from you in weeks! No one would tell me where you were or what you were doing. I tried asking around, but no one was willing to tell me any specifics."

"That’s' because i asked them to," he replied.

"What?" you asked alarmed. "Why?"

"Because we needed space, Y/N," he answered, running his hands through his hair. "And I needed time away where I could really think without me running back to you or vice versa. That's not what either of us needed."

"You're talking about what you needed! What about what I needed?" you asked. "Not knowing where you were drove me mental! You could've at least told me where you were!"

"See, this," he gestured to you, "this is exactly what I'm talking about. You and I both know you would've gone to where I was staying to talk and it would've ended in a bigger argument, or I would've come back here and we would've ignored the problem. And we can't keep trying to ignore this problem."

"We're not ignoring the problem, Conor," you said exasperated.

"Yes, we are," Conor said sternly. "We have been for a while now. And I think you know that too."

Silence fell as the air grew more tense. The bad feeling in your stomach only grew.

"We've been arguing about the same things for months now," he started. "And we've both tried to make changes but obviously something isn't clicking between why we're fighting and how we're trying to change it."

"I mean, we've just gotta keep doing what we're doing right?" You asked. "Keep trying different things until we find the right solution?"

Conor looked at you, tears in his eyes. "Y/N, we can't keep doing this over and over again expecting the result to be different this time."

You were confused. "What do you mean 'this?' We're working through our issues like we always do."

"No, Y/N, we're not. And we haven't been for a while."

"Wh-wh-what are you saying?" you stanmered out. "What does that even mean?"

"Y/N, I love you, you know I do. And I always will. But we can't keep doing this anymore. I can't keep doing this anymore. I can't give you what you're asking for and you can't give me what I'm asking for either. That's where the problem lies," Conor said. "So that's why-"

You cut him off, shutting your eyes as tears began rapidly falling down your face. "Don't fucking say it! Don't you dare fucking say it! We can make this work! We can do something else! We can do anything else except for what you're gonna say next! It doesn't have to resort to that!"

"Y/N, look at me," Conor said, cupping your cheeks. You averted your gaze and tried to pull away, but his grip was strong. You couldn't help but melt into him.

"Y/N. I love you. But this is hurting us more than it's helping," he said, tears forming in his own eyes. "We need to end this. And this is the only way it can end without us hating each other."

"Speak for yourself!" you sobbed. "It's fucking Christmas, Conor, and you have the nerve to fucking dump me?! How could you do this to me?!"

"I know," he said, pulling you in close. You didn't have the heart to push him away, collapsing into his arms. "I know and I'm a fucking dickhead and I'm sorry. But I can't let us keep doing this, pretending to be happy throughout the holidays when we both know we're not happy."

Conor held you as you fell apart, desperately trying not to let the tears fall from his own eyes. He needed to be strong for the both of you. You gripped the collar of his shirt tightly, knowing that the moment you let go, he would be gone. Your body shook and loud wails left you.

"We can f-fix this!" you cried. "We can! We're meant to be together remember? We can get through anything!" Conor kissed the top of your head, trying to savor these very last minutes with you.

You held onto to each other for what seemed like hours, trying to memorize the way your bodies fit together. You wanted to remember his scent, the warmth his body gave you, how safe you felt with him, how these were the moments that made fighting for this relationship worth it. This moment was all you had left with him and you wanted to savor every second of it.

Eventually, Conor pulled away. And you had no choice but to let go of him.

"I'll come 'round sometime to pack my stuff once the new year starts," he said gently. "I think for now we just need to be with our families."

He kissed your forehead before standing up to leave. He reached for the doorknob, turning around to look at you one last time.

"Please stay," you begged. "This doesn't have to be it. We can fix this."

He shook his head in disagreement. "We can't, Y/N."

"Please, Conor," you cried. "I love you."

"I love you too," he said, "more than anything. And that's why I have to go."

Painfully, Conor turned around and opened the door for the last time. And as the door closed behind him, you fell to the ground sobbing, hoping for a Christmas miracle that he would come back to you.

But he never did. And it was too late to fix it this time.

Taglist: @thoseboysinblue @neverinadream @notsoattractivearenti @lovelynikol16 @pulisicsgirl @lizzypotter14 @shadowscorch @nyctophilic0vitnir

#conor gallagher #conor gallagher imagine #conor gallagher au #conor gallagher one shot #conor gallagher x reader #footballer au #footballer imagine #footballer one shot #footballer x reader #swimmingismywholelife

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nnycore · 5 months

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Hunger was one of those annoying, unavoidable things about being a human.

Even though Johnny C. was pretty confident that he could survive on sheer force of will if he had to, living hungry was uncomfortable, and while there were plenty of sacrifices Nny was willing to make for the sake of becoming a feelingless, empty husk, hunger (at this time at least) was just a pointless preventable discomfort.

And so he took to the kitchen.

To say that Nny’s kitchen was barren was an understatement. His fridge contained exactly four items: a carton of milk that expired a month ago (why did he even buy that? he’s lactose intolerant), a tupperware full of something unidentifiable (he really didn’t want to know what was in it), a jar of pickles (great for snacking!), and a single cucumber. His pantry wasn’t much better; all he had there were some cans of tuna (also expired, he accidentally bought them in oil instead of in water and refused to touch them), a bag of chips (only the crumbs were left), and three cans of spaghettio-s. There was also the matter of his lack of tableware. And proper cutlery. He had the basics: ice cream scoop, pizza cutter, a fork, and of course, knives. Lots and lots of knives. Nny was like a magpie when it came to those things. Any time a new knife caught his eye, he just had to have it. Whether it was the design of the handle, the curve of the blade, or the way it caught the light, something about them just drew him in. Of course he didn’t need it. He knew that. His set of kitchen knives could get the job done just fine. Hell, he could probably do his job with a spoon if he had to (actually, that’s not too bad of an idea… maybe that ice cream scoop would come in handy? FUCK that’s why he bought it! damned memory problems…).

That’s not the point, though. The point is, Johnny’s living space was absolutely abhorrent, and he had nothing to put his fucking spaghetti-o’s in and the screams from the basement were getting loud enough to be annoying. Fuck he didn’t have time for this, he had things to do! People to kill! Walls to paint! Well, one wall. Regardless, he was a busy man.

Nny grabbed a can and a knife and headed down the stairs. While he walked, he worked the blade of the knife around the edge of the can, cutting the top off with a horrible screeching noise. He really should just invest in a can opener. Once the top was hanging on by just a shred of metal, he ripped it off with his teeth and gulped the pasta down. A glob of sauce missed his mouth and landed on the stairs with a plop.

“God… DAMMIT!” he screamed.

“Are you gonna pick that up?” a high, croaky voice asked him.

Fuck, on top of this, he had to deal with a stupid disembodied rabbit corpse following him around, squeaking out useless suggestions. Well, not useless, he supposed. He just didn’t want to hear it.

Nny glared at the floating head. “Fuck off, Nailbunny. I’m not in the mood today.”

“You’re never in the mood, Nny.”

“And why do I have to be, huh? Who am I trying to impress? Because it isn’t you, it isn’t the doughboys, and it sure as hell isn’t the people down in the basement.”

The rabbit pouted. “Alright, I see how it is… but what about that little kid, huh? What’s his name… Tom? Todd?”

“Squee?”

“Yeah, him. Don’t you want to be a good example for him?”

“If Squeegee is looking to me for an example of anything other than what not to do, he’s already too fucked to be helped.”

“Aw, come on, don’t say that! You have plenty of good qualities.”

“Like?”

“Well… uh…” the rabbit faltered. “You’re very polite.”

“I kill people, Nailbunny,” he deadpanned.

“Well, when you’re not killing people, you’re always very nice. Even when you are killing people you can be polite.”

“Like hell I am! Name one time I’ve ever been nice to someone I killed.”

“There was that one guy… Almost a year ago, remember? You two had a nice chat right before you killed him. Very enlightening. I could see you being friends with him if things had gone differently.”

“Yeah, if things went differently. Which they didn’t. Now are you going to let me clean up my mess or what?”

Nailbunny said nothing and drifted away in response.

Nny sighed. Conversations with his head-voice-entity-things were always exhausting. Why were they so adamant on him questioning everything about his existence? Why did every conversation have to be deep and thought provoking? Was it not enough to simply chat about the weather? Or how ironic the death he planned for his latest victim was? Honestly, he put so much thought into the way he killed and there wasn’t even anyone around to appreciate it. But then again, he might just be talking to himself, and if that was the case, he didn’t even want to think about what subconsciously psychoanalyzing himself meant for his already nearly non-existent mental health.

“Nobody fucking helps me in this house,” he grumbled as he retrieved the cleaning supplies from under the kitchen sink.

Returning to the scene of the mess, Johnny realized just how small the glob of tomato sauce was. He had gotten his heavy duty stuff (yellow gloves instead of his usual black ones, a mop, and some windex) out for nothing. “I guess I’ll just…” He paused, dragging his hand down his face in exhausted frustration. “...get a towel then.” As he turned to slink back up the stairs, the steel toe of his boot caught on one of the steps, sending him tumbling down into the basement. Johnny C. landed in a heap at the bottom of the stairs, his mop and cleaning supplies scattered around him. He groaned, annoyed at the unexpected turn of events. As he struggled to get up, he heard a soft, timid voice from the corner of the basement.

The source of the disembodied voice stepped into the dim light, revealing a young boy with wide, fearful eyes. It was none other than Squee, the kid from the neighborhood who always seemed to cross paths with Johnny in the most unfortunate situations. "Uh, hi, Mr. Nny. Are you okay?"

Johnny C. scowled, attempting to save face despite the embarrassment of his fall. "Of course, I'm fine. Just testing the structural integrity of the stairs, you know, for safety reasons. How did you get down here, anyways?”

Squee looked skeptical but didn't press the issue, instead fidgeting nervously with his fingers. "I-I heard noises, and I thought it was safer down here. But then you fell, and I didn't know what to do." He hesitated before asking, "Um, why were you screaming and making a mess upstairs?"

Johnny sighed, realizing that the evidence of his spaghetti-o mishap was still splattered on the stairs. "Just hungry, Squee. And those damn voices in my head won't leave me alone."

Squee furrowed his brow, clearly concerned. "Voices? Like, in your head?"

Johnny waved his hand dismissively. "Yeah, don't worry about it. Just annoying chatter. Happens all the time."

As Johnny started to gather his cleaning supplies, Squee tentatively approached. "I... I could help you clean up. If you want."

Johnny blinked, genuinely surprised by the offer. He was used to people running away from him or, at the very least, avoiding any involvement with his chaotic life. Squee, on the other hand, seemed genuinely willing to assist.

"Well, kid, you might regret saying that, but sure. Why not? Just don't get any blood on you," Johnny replied with a smirk.

Squee hesitated for a moment before nodding nervously. Together, they began to clean up the mess on the stairs, and Johnny couldn't help but notice the mixture of fear and curiosity in Squee's eyes.

As they worked, Nailbunny floated into view, watching the unlikely duo with a bemused expression. "Looks like you found a cleaning buddy, Nny."

Johnny shot a glare at the floating rabbit head. "Shut up, Nailbunny. It's just a one-time thing. I don't need help from anyone."

But deep down, as he glanced at the timid yet determined Squee, Johnny C. couldn't deny that maybe, just maybe, having someone around wasn't the worst thing in the world.

#jthm #johnny the homicidal maniac #johnny c #jthm nny #nny #nny and squee #squee #jthm squee #jthm fanfic

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adelrambles · 1 month

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I am so sorry I promise I’ll stop spamming you about Bishop now (maybe.)

Do you think Bishop could ever be in a healthy relationship? What would the dynamic be like with evil Bishop versus Fast Forward Bishop?

And no I don’t mean Stockshop. 😭

Oh no worries at all I'm enjoying your questions!! Please feel free to spam to your heart's desire. Sorry it took so long to get around to this one, I have admittedly not put much thought into Bishop in romantic scenarios, so I had to think on it a bit!

So, could Bishop ever be in a healthy relationship? Short answer NO. NOT AT ALL LOL

Slightly longer answer, there is some potential depending on how you like to interpret Fast Forward!Bishop. I think it's impossible for Present-day Bishop to be in any sort of healthy romance (and I'll go into way more detail than neccessary about that below 👍) but if you take FF's presentation of the character at face value, there's certainly a possibility.

So long answer, Bishop is one of the single most self-centered, unexamined people to walk the damn earth. There are a lot of factors that go into why he would be just, the absolute worst in a relationship, but the biggest issue is he doesn't give a shit about anybody but himself. If we throw everything else out and consider a hypothetical where he enters a relationship for the relationship's sake, he is not capable or willing to see things from a partner's perspective. In any disagreement he will be unwilling to consider he could be wrong, and will go to great lengths to ensure the other person concedes or backs down. He is a paranoid control freak who would not stand for anything less than being agreed with and obeyed, and he is perfectly willing to break someone down to achieve that. And in a scenario where, indeed, his interest is actually in the other person, we know he has a terrible possessive streak. As long as his interest holds, there is no out for the hypothetical partner. He is going to be emotionally and mentally abusive at best.

Moving more to the particulars of what he'd want a relationship for, it's worth pointing out that Bishop is very single-minded and relentless in his ultimate goal. I find it very difficult to consider a scenario where any single person would be considered worthwhile enough to distract him from that. We've seen him willing to sacrifice personal friends in-canon for the sake of his experiments, (if you ascribe to the theory that J. Finn was mutated on purpose to some degree,) so his work is ALWAYS going to come first. But that's the nicer option, because there is always the possibility that he would consider a relationship if it benefitted his greater goal (OR fed his ego tbh.) In which case, he's only in it for what he can get out of the other person, and the second they've outlived their usefulness to him, well-- I guess it depends on how much sensitive information they know, by that point.

But, okay! Let's consider President Bishop. He's certainly less likely to lure in a partner just to use them and then dispose of them, so he has that going for him. With him, there is a lot of room for how you want to interpret his "change of heart." You could take it at as presented in the show, or read more into his actions based on what we know about his past. Personally, I prefer the latter, but I'll examine both for the sake of thoroughness, and also for funsies.

So let's assume Bishop is being genuine in how he acts, first. In this case, I think there's a decent chance he could learn to be a good partner, though I don't think he'd start out that way and I doubt it'd come naturally to him loL. His job requires a lot of time and attention from him, and he is always going to prioritize it; he is, after all, "a bigger picture kind of guy." Kindness does not come naturally to him, so in times of stress he may default to meaner actions. However, he is also pretty effective in learning and adapting, so with good communication he probably won't make the same mistakes too often. In this scenario I think time constraint really is the biggest obstacle, given his job.

Now, assuming his Good Guy act is just a mask for politics? He's still pretty damn toxic. Bishop's tactics have changed, but his personality remains pretty similar. I'm not sure his pleasant demeanor goes that deep, once you get into more than small talk. It's a necessity for his job, but he still appears to be cold and utilitarian underneath it. He still thinks he's right about everything, and based on the insidious ways he phrases his own backstory to always shift blame away from himself, (even throwing Stockman under the bus, STILL, just to look better in comparison,) he's gotten a LOT better at making it feel like he is always in the right. What you've got is a Bishop who can lie, persuade and charm better, who also still doesn't care about much beyond protecting his territory and using the people around him. This presents us with a partner who, unlike 2000s-era Bishop, is far FAR more subtle with his abuse. And again, heaven forbid he actually genuinely has an interest in his hypothetical partner, because now he has galactic-wide surveillance and public sway on top of the immortality, and they're never getting away.

I hope that answers to satisfaction! Honestly while it's not my cup of tea it is really interesting to examine this facet of his character, so thank you for the question!!

#asks #I don't ship Stockshop anyway but if they were to be together it would be HORRIBLE #Bishop's already abusing the dude and he doesn't even like him #not uh. not that you asked. but #the way my friend Trauma characterizes them is excellent tho chef's kiss shoutout to that guy #I know there's been some new writers on the scene regarding this too that I've been meaning to check out! just haven't gotten around to it #Megaman has suddenly grabbed me by the throat #agent bishop #tmnt 2003 #tmnt 2k3

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oh-ranpo · 2 years

Text

right there beside you

☾ -- pairing: chuuya nakahara x reader ☾ -- word count: 1.9k+ ☾ -- a/n: ANGST. hurt comfort fic. for the sake of this imagine, we're going to pretend that chuuya would have no access to yosano's power. i didn't want to hurt anyone, i swear. ☾ -- preview: when you end up in the hospital after an attack from a port mafia enemy, chuuya is faced with the uncertainty of your recovery.

It wasn’t supposed to end up like this. It wasn’t supposed to be you laying in this hospital bed, it was supposed to be him. Or, no, if it had to be someone, it should have been him. You were innocent in all of this. So, so innocent, it wasn’t fair. It made his blood boil in rage before it started simmering into a deep-rooted guilt that filled his stomach to the brim. This was his fault. It was his fault that you were here. If you never would have gotten mixed up with him and his job, you would have been safe. You would be at home, asleep in your own bed instead of here, hooked up to all these annoying machines. Sure, he also wouldn’t be holding your hand and he wouldn’t have the precious memories of you that he held so close to his heart, but he was willing to make that sacrifice if it meant that you’d be okay. He’d let you go forever if you would just wake up.

As selfish as Chuuya could be, when it came to you, he was different. While he used to put his job first, now, that spot was reserved for you. That was what made this entire situation so unbearable. He wasn’t where he was supposed to be when you needed him most. He was too slow. He couldn’t… they didn’t… His mind raced as he thought about all the different scenarios that might have resulted in your safety. If he would have been faster to the scene, he could have stopped them. If he would have warned you about the case he was working on sooner, he could have protected you. But instead, he had kept everything a secret from you, and they had found you before he could find them. How was he ever going to live with himself if you didn’t get better? It was late, and while he was sure that the nurses had considered trying to kick him out by now, they also knew better than to even mutter the words in his presence. He might have been an executive for an operation that worked mostly in the shadows, but his reputation was still fairly prominent around the city. No one asked questions. No one ordered him around. And if they tried to send him away, he would have sent them straight through the floor without a moment’s hesitation. He couldn’t leave because he had to be here when you woke up. He had to apologize. Both of Chuuya’s gloved hands gripped yours tightly as he rested his head against the back of them. If he was a praying man, he would have begged a higher power to heal you. He would have sold his soul to the devil himself if it meant that you would come out of this without any lasting injuries. Tears welled in his eyes as he realized how helpless he was, and how there was nothing that he could do except wait. The hallway lights had been turned down, and the last time the nurse had come in to check on you, she had turned the room’s lights down as well. A majority of the light came in from the moon outside, and as alert as he wanted to be, Chuuya’s eyelids started to droop and he could feel the exhaustion from the day start to settle into his bones. It was amazing how ten hours could feel like a lifetime when something that meant so much to him hung in the balance. He wasn’t sure how much waiting he could do before he would start to lose his mind. Maybe he already had. Slowly, he lifted his head as he took another long look at you, his heart sinking in his chest at how vulnerable you looked. The bandage on your head was reminiscent to the one Dazai used to wear when they were younger, and Chuuya might have almost been amused if the situation wasn’t so dire. There was a bruise forming on your cheek and the cut along the side of your neck made his stomach turn violently. They had really done a number on you. If they weren’t already dead, Chuuya wouldn’t have hesitated to kill them again. His grip on your hand tightened as tears welled in his eyes and your name slipped past his lips. He was calling out to you despite not knowing if you could hear him. He murmured your name again, this time a little bit louder, in hopes that you would recognize his voice and come back to him. “I just want to see those pretty eyes of yours again, doll,” he smiled sadly as a lump formed in his throat. “You know how much I need that smile to get through the day.” When you didn’t stir, Chuuya let out a heavy sigh as the first tear fell to the bed covers in front of him. Would he ever see that smile again? Would he ever hear your laugh or enjoy the way your voice wrapped around his name? Would he ever get to experience the softness of your touch and the way your fingers would gently card through his hair as you laid next to one another in his oversized bed? Despite having all the space in the world, you always opted for sleeping right next to him, cuddled into his side or having him rest his head on your chest so that you could play with his hair as he dozed off after a long day. “I sleep better with you close to me,” you’d say, and Chuuya’s heart would skip a beat. As the thought passed through his mind, Chuuya found himself standing from his spot in the chair next to the bed and gently crawled into the space on the mattress beside you. He was careful not to bump any of the tubes that were connected to you as he slid under the covers, his arm resting across your waist as his head found its place on the pillow right next to you. He felt a tiny bit better being closer to you now, even though that nagging despair was still twirling in his chest, but he closed his eyes and pretended like he was back home. The two of you were laying in his bed, just like you did every night. The steady beeping of the machines was simply white noise as he allowed himself to sleep in the comfort of your presence. You would both wake up tomorrow morning, and all of this would be just a terrible nightmare. “Chuuya?” He dreamt about you. The two of you were laying in his room, just as he had imagined before falling asleep, and you were whispering his name as your fingers brushed along his skin. The light filtering in from the window gave you an ethereal glow, and he could feel deep within his soul that there was nowhere else he wanted to be. He didn’t care about the Port Mafia, he didn’t care about anything else except for laying next to you with your touch gliding up his arm, across his collar bone, and then your fingers wrapping strands of his hair around them, all while wearing a peaceful smile on your face. “Chuuya.” Your voice was louder this time, but there was something about the sound of it that didn’t feel right. Your voice was definitely more hoarse than it had been previously. It wasn’t silky smooth like your regular voice, though the love and care was still laced in his name. Your fingers were now pressed against his cheekbone as you slowly tilted his chin upwards to meet your gaze. “Chuuya, love, open your eyes.” He was confused. His eyes were open, so why were you asking him to do so now? His brow furrowed in confusion and his body stirred restlessly. The room around you slowly started to fade and he could feel you slipping away. No, he wanted to say, desperate to cling on to your presence a bit longer. No, please don’t leave me. Only when the room completely disappeared, his eyes were opening again and he was greeted with the blinding white light of the hospital room. The beeping of the machines were still steady, and his heart was racing as he fought to get his bearings. His stomach sank when realization settled in that the moment he had just shared with you had all been a part of his imagination. “Good morning.” The sound of your voice startled him as he turned his head to look at you. He was surprised to see you staring back at him, a soft, tired smile on your lips. “I was beginning to wonder when you would wake up.” He realized then that your fingers were nestled in his hair as your arm draped across his chest. He was laying on his back but you were laying on your side facing him, almost identical to how you had been in his dream. Tears immediately filled his eyes once more as he rolled onto his side to face you, before pulling off his glove as his own hand moved to cup your cheek. The bandage on your head kept him from brushing his fingers through your hair, but he could still feel your warm skin beneath his palm, grounding him in this reality. Your hand slowly moved to the back of his head, your fingernails gently scratching against his scalp in a way that always made him putty in your hands. The movements were languid and slow as you still seemed to be partially sedated, but you were awake and that was all that mattered. “I was… oh, doll, I am so… I can’t believe I let…” Chuuya stumbled over his words as he tried to come up with the right thing to say in that moment. I was wrong. I am so sorry. I can’t believe I let them get to you. Those were only a few of the things that weighed heavy on his mind, but before he could get any of those complete sentences past his lips, you were scooting closer to him - which wasn’t the easiest considering all the tubes you were still connected to - until your forehead rested against his own. “I’m right here, darling, and I’m going to be okay. You’re safe, I’m safe, and that’s all that matters, right? That we’re together?” The little pieces of his fragmented heart started to heal with your questions, and his thumb brushed across the apple of your cheek. A tear slid down his face as he nodded against you, his lips turning up slightly bringing about the first smile to grace his lips in the last 48 hours. “As long as you’re here, nothing else matters,” he murmured in response, and the laugh that he had grown to live for filled the room. “You’re such a sap, Chuuya,” you teased, pulling back just enough so that you could meet his gaze. His blue eyes sparkled as he stared back at you, feeling relief and love and adoration fill him up all at once. “But I love you and I’ll always come back for you. I’ll never leave you alone.” That was when he kissed you, his lips melding slowly with yours. He was as careful as possible so that he wouldn’t bump or aggravate any of your injuries. He just couldn’t help himself. “And you call me the sap,” he joked right back the moment that you pulled apart. “But I’m holding you to that promise.” The smile on your lips was all the reassurance that he needed. Nothing like this was going to ever happen again. He would bet his life on it.

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chocolate-biscuit · 1 year

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Hello, nex-reblog-fest coming in, here to ask about the Tomura & Hawks parallels through your eyes 🫶🏻

Please serenade me !

Hello! I'm glad you saw the tags ^^

I really like the topic but I think I should say I'm not a meta writer like some other amazing blogs around there. I'll try my best, especially to remember all the details I can think of.

We know and we saw in the manga AFO took advantage of a scared, abandoned child who was on the streets after accidentally murdering his family and society didn't stop to help him. AFO groomed said child into following a path of hatred towards the heroes - when the same kid wanted to be a hero himself - and convinced Tomura he was born to destroy (I'll come back to this).

Hawks, too, was found on the streets, with his mother: both were in a extremely vulnerable position, and the Hero Commission used their state of poverty for their purposes. We don't have much details on how the Commission raised him (hopefully we'll get them before the manga ends), but we know from Nagant's backstory they surely indocrinated him and exploited his will to be a hero (the narration once mentioned "interpersonal skills drilled into him from a young age by the Safety Commission" - ch. 258). No child can give consent to "rough training".

Essentially, both characters were groomed/indocrinated by another entity/institution, who took advantage of vulnerable children in order to satisfy their goals. If Tomura was groomed by the "villain side", Hawks was indocrinated by the "hero side". Story repeats itself.

I've seen many considered (and still consider) Tomura in MVA as liberated and the other characters - namely Re-Destro in his narration - thought he was free of everything; however (and I don't want to go into details when Shigaraki focused meta blogs already analized the chapters), he fell into a path that took him straight into being literally possessed.

Even now, in recent chapters, he appears to be free from AFO's control, but the AFO vestige is not completely defeated and the real AFO will approach Tomura and Izuku soon; not to mention Shigaraki is still believing he wants to destroy everything and that will be his only salvation. Again, just how AFO groomed him to think.

Something similar happened with Hawks after the PLW arc: we see Keigo, at his mother's house, saying he actually abandoned Tomie and that's for the better; no one and nothing is holding him back, especially since the Commission can't give him orders anymore ("I'm free... of my shackles" - ch. 299) . It would sound great, if only it hasn't been said during a conversation ambiguous at best in the manga and downright insane in the anime.

Hawks is still working as a hero, has shown to be willing to sacrifice his life for Endeavor and the kids, is written as more and more insane with each chapter that comes out. If at first he was ready to tain himself for Japan, now he's ready to tain himself and die "for the kids' sake".

Back to after the Pro-Hero arc, we see Hawks recalling the conversation he had with Madame President and her associate stating "there's no better man for the job" (ch. 191) to infiltrate the LoV. And Hawks accepted - knowing he couldn't refuse, and said as such.

It seems both Tomura and Hawks are, to some degree, aware of how AFO/the Commission raised them, but the grooming runs in so deep they still live in a state of denial - for a lack of a better word to describe it.

Another similarity between the two is how they perceive themselves. I mentioned twice how Shigaraki views himself as "born to destroy" and Hawks, similary, thinks he was "born with dirty wings". If I remember correctly, Caleb Cook in the official English translation implied Hawks dirtied his wings with his actions, but the Japanese text implies his quirk was already that way. So, when Hawks claims he will tain himself for others' sakes, he knows he's already tained for his quirk. He was born like that.

These characters nurture hatred towards themselves, with Shigaraki accepting there's no saving him - despite desperately wanting to be saved - because he was born this way, that's what he wants; and Hawks committing immoral actions and putting himself on the line, while showing since he was introduced he has extremely low self-esteem, and considering himself tained - what is another stain anyway, if it's for someone else's happiness.

I'm sorry if I didn't show manga panels, but I've already spent a while writing this and I don't want to give it another hour. English is not my first language, so it's slightly more challenging to write fluently enough (I'm used to shitposts and very few smart takes anyway).

Hawks is, ironically, much more similar to the LoV than the pro-heroes, even if he's a pro-hero as well; it's pretty interesting to go into deeper details.

Thank you so much for giving me the opportunity to talk about Tomura and Hawks. I truly appreciate it.

#asks #bnha #a bit nervous to post something like this ahah #not that it is anything special. meta writers can do better #shigaraki tomura #hawks

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renadactyl · 3 months

Text

“Coffee Cognition”

𝕎𝕣𝕚𝕥𝕥𝕖𝕟 𝕓𝕪 ℝ𝕖𝕟𝕒𝕕𝕒𝕔𝕥𝕪𝕝 (ℝ𝕖𝕟/𝕎𝕚𝕝𝕝𝕚𝕒𝕞) (𝕙𝕖/𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕪/𝕚𝕥)

𝕁𝕦𝕝𝕚𝕒𝕟-𝕔𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕣𝕚𝕔, 𝕤𝕝𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥 𝔸𝕤𝕣𝕒 𝕩 𝕁𝕦𝕝𝕚𝕒𝕟

𝕋𝕎: 𝕡𝕝𝕒𝕘𝕦𝕖, 𝕔𝕒𝕗𝕗𝕖𝕚𝕟𝕖 𝕒𝕕𝕕𝕚𝕔𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟, 𝕤𝕥𝕣𝕖𝕤𝕤, 𝕞𝕖𝕕𝕚𝕔𝕒𝕝 𝕞𝕒𝕝𝕡𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕥𝕚𝕔𝕖, 𝕕𝕖𝕒𝕥𝕙

(𝟠𝟡𝟛 𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕕𝕤)

Febuwhump Day 2: “Solitary Confinement” (another very loosely-based oneshot on the prompt)

Julian loses his mind trying to find a cure for the plague, locking himself inside of his room until he can find it (this is set before he’s force-fed the beetle)

Not proofread

Crimson threads of hair were swung this way and that, getting into Julian’s eyes as he focused down on the papers spread in front of him on the large wooden desk. He couldn’t remember the last time he stopped to bother his memory over figuring out when he had last brushed his hair. The only comb that he had with him was his shaky, caffeine-powered fingers, raking through whenever he was losing focus or a tuft of hair was getting in his eyes.

His left eye twitched to the point where it irked him and he could do nothing about it. That was obviously a consequence of drinking an umpteenth cup of coffee, but he felt as if the trade of his discomfort for the sake of staying up to study was truly worthwhile.

The room was so silent he could almost hear his psyche breaking. He could hear his brain growing rusty and cracking, slowly snapping apart from each crevice, tearing itself up into two. If it knew the body it inhabited, it’d surely want to save itself the pain of continuing to work and exist.

The only company he had in the darkness of his study was his own shaky mumbles. Most of the time, he would be talking to himself. However, now he liked to envision something soft and peaceful, the last thing that gave him hope in this bleak misfortune: the fluffy white head of hair belonging to the mysterious magician… those curious eyes that had been glazed over with pain for a while by now. The vision of Asra Alnazar sprawled out, allowing Julian to touch his cloudy hair, and resting his head on Julian’s lap was enough positive reinforcement versus all the weighty responsibilities being placed on his shoulders. Julian knew that he just had to protect that which was most precious to him, even if he wasn’t the most precious to Asra.

He looked over his research: the diagrams of various dissected human brains, a log kept on the victims he watched over daily, and then the studies on leeches. He had proved so many scientific facts wrong, and yet all these world-altering discoveries changed nothing about the fates of the victims.

The miniature discoveries Julian made every now and again always felt like stabbing him in his guts. It just was a reminder how he could do much more than anyone else could to prevent this plague, or at least he was willing to sacrifice much more than the average person for it all to end already. He knew he could do it. He was just so close but so far.

He prepared himself for the bitter taste of coffee when he raised his cup up to his throat, but it never came. He could only taste the leftover residue and felt the lingering heat of the cup on his lips. With an uneasy expression and shaky hands, he lowered the cup. It hit the desk with a small thud.

Now, Julian faced a dilemma. He needed coffee to work, but now he couldn’t obtain any more. He needed it though, he knew he’d blackout without it. The darkness felt suffocating at the ends of his vision.

He could hope that Valdemar would show up in front of his door and ask him for his progress he had made while he had himself locked in the room. Then, he could ask them to fetch him a cup of coffee, even though they’d likely decline out of disinterest for his well-being. Besides, he couldn’t imagine having to face one of Valdemar’s “check-ups” around that time. He’d have to tell them that he made no progress, not only admitting it to them but also finally admitting it to himself: that he was failing his job as a plague doctor. And Valdemar would only grin, their eyes staring at him and studying his tired gaze and bloodshot eyes and weakening body. They were perhaps the only person who didn’t want the plague to end because it allowed them to do so many gruesome treatments in the name of medicine and science.

He took a deep breath in and then out. He was getting ahead of himself. He was losing it. He was moving too quickly. He pulled back on the reigns of the dashing horse that was his brain. Every thought he thought was a thought wasted. Every thought could’ve been the thought that’d cure the plague.

When he didn’t know what to do, he’d think of Asra or the red eyes of the victims begging for him to spare their lives. Everyone was watching him, awaiting his every moment, hoping that he could finish with the next swipe of the quill against his paper. But deep down it was understood by him that it couldn’t be that easy. He was failing everyone with every second he spent focusing on thinking about the ruins around him instead of all the work in front of him.

Whilst his eyes scanned back over his notes, he heard a small buzzing beside him. Thankfully though, it landed on his desk so he could clearly see what it was: just a simple fly, attracted by a certain stench.

Without a second thought, he crushed it with one swing of his textbook, letting the dusty hardback cover slam harshly and shake the desk.

#the arcana game #the arcana #julian devorak #asra alnazar #asrian #julian x asra #oneshot #febuwhump

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construingseacats · 7 months

Text

Umireread: Legend of the Golden Witch - Prologue

And so it begins.

The following contains spoilers for the entirety of Umineko. Please do not read if you are yet to finish it.

This disclaimer is very funny considering the nature of the story. Could only be more on the nose if you change “fantastic” to “fantastical”.

Honestly, for as many gripes as I have with early Umineko, I do adore the prologue. It sets up the story really nicely and does a great job of setting the tone. It’s depressive and mayhap a little long-winded, but it’s relentlessly human.

I can’t help but feel the whole “Kinzo will likely die before the chess match is finished” is a cheeky nod to the story as a whole. Well, I suppose he’s already dead before the chess match even begins, so it’s not exactly a one-to-one.

It’s kind of crazy how much they nod towards the bombs with his spiel of leaving behind nothing when he dies. Obviously that’s not something you could ever suspect on an initial read, but I suppose it’s a stark indicator of how much more there is to glean from a reread right from the start.

Like grandad like grandson, it seems.

It’s kind of crazy how different this scene feels second time round compared to the first. When you’re going in blind, it’s an intriguing setup for how this ailing old man is willing to sacrifice everything for the sake of a mysterious witch he once knew. There’s a real element of Kinzo the Sorcerer - but in reality, he’s just a broken man ruing all his misdeeds, wanting to see the one he loves again (however twisted that may be). It’s kind of a shame that this is one of the only real scenes we actually get with Kinzo in the story - I’d love to get a deeper exploration into him in the years leading up to his death.

Also, I have to say, the opening movie is still phenomenal. I actually really like the PS3 one, but the original opening is just undefeated for setting the mood of the journey ahead. Shikata Akiko’s work is Umineko to me, and it stirs the exact same emotions in me today as it first did 10 years ago. The path to the Golden Land is a long one, coated in ceaseless amounts of blood. But it is a journey that begins with a single step.

#umireread #umineko #umineko spoilers

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2offayyo-kzt · 2 years

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My late night thoughts on Taneda Santouka :

@none-shall-caricature-me I wrote it in one-shot, my thoughts are ⤵️↩️⬅️↔️

It's almost 1AM, I'm writing this without rereading and without checking my information (only what I have in memory) it's only speculation and my personal analysis of the character but I think it's still interesting to read because imo he's one of the best characters in BSD

I'm also basing this on the little knowledge I have of the author

I'm going to start by speculating about his past, I think that about 15 years ago he was a soldier (35 yo) during the Great War, and before that he was already working for the government

Thanks to his ability, he arrested countless criminals (because he can know the nature of an ability if it is activated near him)

But this means that Taneda is above all an excellent strategist, and this is not surprising since he is the most rational character in BSD.

In the past he was probably the one who revealed the existence of the Book and how it worked in the government (and he probably regretted it)

And after that he was sent to war, (to avoid him trying to access the Book and in the best scenario case : die)

Because indeed, the main use of the Book is for oneself, to satisfy one's desires, create chaos <- which Taneda probably hates the most

Given his attachment to wanting to protect the city of Yokohama (granting Peace)

Indeed Mori shares this same desire, but Taneda is more rational because he cares for absolutely no one (unlike Mori who adores Elise) he is willing to sacrifice good people, for the sake of "the greater good", ready to sacrifice himself

I think it's also because Taneda Santouka has suicidal tendencies (personal headcanon) and even if it's not canon, I'm persuaded that he's the one who pronounced this sentence to Dazai ("what's the use of getting attached to things, because in the end we lose them") < something like that I can't remember

Indeed I think they met long before, because it's surprising that Dazai, in order to find a job, directly asked Taneda, he must have known him before (or else Ango forced Taneda to meet Dazai), I think it's both.

Why he has suicidal tendencies in my opinion (apart from the fact that he voluntarily let himself be stabbed by Sigma > I'm sorry but I'm convinced about this) because he is not tied down in anything.

Indeed, his ability allows him to see through the "protection" (aka abilities) of people, for him ability users are as clear as water

And I think Taneda got too attached to humans and their fragility and in the end he realised that he would always lose what he cherished.

I think during the war he had to lose fellow soldiers, I don't think that's what he was the most upset about, I think it's the fact that lives were wasted unnecessarily (he hates waste 'canon')

He's willing to sacrifice lives, but to a useful end, the war has sacrificed lives for no good reason.

That's probably why he decided to create (personal headcanon) the Special Division

He must have seen during the war how irrational and destructive the ability users were (used as a weapon)

And he founded this agency to regulate that.

He probably hates the war, because not only was he considered as cannon fodder (even if he considers everyone as such imo) but it also strongly damages the nature (the author had a deep love with the nature)

Taneda is looking for peace, solitude, to get away from people because it probably hurts him too much. That's probably why he likes to stay late at night (canon fact) to walk around, admire the landscape, and get drunk alone to forget (the author was an alcoholic and the character likes sake)

Taneda must be looking for that solitude away from humans, he's just looking for them all to be happy, without him in the equation.

And I think that's why he trusts Ango blindly and why they are so complementary

Indeed Ango is the exact opposite, Ango is attached to people and objects (he is canonically materialistic) while Taneda is very attached to immaterial concept (peace)

Taneda's ability is about the occult and the weirdness of abilities, Ango's power, even if it is based on memories, is much more concrete (object, human, + he is obliged to touch unlike Taneda)

Taneda shares the vision of utilitarianism : the happiness of all takes precedence over that of a few, Ango also shares this vision because he is rational, however his heart is in complete contradiction with those beliefs (Ango 'loves' humanity, Taneda is probably tired of it)

But Taneda saw something in Ango, he let him be his second in command at only 18 years old (I don't remember the exact source)

Taneda, a rational person, decided that an unexperienced young man should become his second in command.

Why did he do this ?

Because I think Taneda was jealous and hoped that Ango would failed.

Indeed, Taneda probably saw Ango's love for humanity/immaterial objects, the fact that it made him suffer, but despite everything he (Ango) persevered in this way

That's probably why he made Ango a triple spy, a sadistic desire to see this young man full of hopes confronted with reality.

That no matter how much you care about things, you will always lose them in the end. (Oda for example)

And what's the best part about it, Ango still has faith !

Taneda must have thought at one point "This young boy's steely determination, he's going to be a carrier of peace and deserves my place as a leader."

Because Ango is a good person, and even though he said he was not close to Taneda (which is a huge lie imo), he must have seen himself in Taneda.

Because for me, Taneda is just Ango who decided not to listen to his heart anymore.

That was the post, do what you want with it 👌

#bsd #bungou stray dogs #ango sakaguchi #bsd ango #santoka taneda #bsd taneda #bsd analysis #bsd meta #bsd theory #late night bullshit #bsd hcs #ayyopost

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mommymothma · 1 year

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It's that time again I'm dropping something

But no, it's not a new part to The New Manda'lor, sorry. This next part is very particular and I want to get it right.

That being said, I am providing content for a WLW ship that is severely lacking in content so... a win is a win?

Anyway, here is Celadon, Part one. Also available on AO3 Hope and Love Chapter 2

Mon Mothma x Kleya Marki

Celadon Part 1

Trigger warning, mentions of sexual assault

Rated M

"I don't think I've ever seen you dress up," Mon said, looking Kleya up and down.

"I dress for work all the time." Kleya argued, swirling her glass.

"Sure, but not like this." Mon had admittedly been blown away when she saw her. Kleya was almost always in the same clothes or same style. She often stuck to dark blues and grays, perhaps the odd white or red strip of color.

But she'd never been in green before, or at least not in front of Mon Mothma.

It was still a muted shade, but it stood out enough to catch her eye. She'd put money on it that Perrin would ping the color as Sage Green, but Mon on the other hand suspected a nice Celadon.

"We shouldn't even be talking," Kleya told her, trying to look inconspicuous but failing miserably.

Deep down Mon knew she was right, but she'd been having a hard week.

Everyday she'd get home and have to gaslight Perrin into thinking there were rumors of his gambling addiction. And every day she wished those rumors would come to fruition. It would be so much easier for her, but alas, the work was never done.

"Kleya if you keep looking around like an Owl in the daylight people are going to get suspicious. Just relax for another forty-five minutes and then you're home free. Luthen will make his appearance and no one will be looking at you."

"Except Luthen is always late." Kleya said abruptly.

Another true statement. But he was a man of the minute, he did things as they came to him. It was efficient but unpredictable.

To be perfectly fair Mon had no idea where they were and why. Every Friday she was invited to something or other and she didn't keep track anymore. When the car pulled up out front she knew to throw on nice clothes and smile and the driver would take her to whatever party her assistant accepted the RSVP to.

When she'd walked in she made her rounds, she talked to three senators before she was offered her first drink. Seven senators by her second drink, and she was to a total of seventeen on her third. On her way to find number four she'd found Luthen's shopkeeper attempting to fade into a corner.

"Well why don't you try to actually sell some stuff. Make some money for… Luthen's Projects."

"Because I'm off the clock and here as a courtesy. If Luthen wants to sell old junk to rich people then he should come here and do it himself."

"Charming as ever, Kleya." Mon told her.

"Why don't we get another drink? You don't seem to be a fan of the wine."

"Oh this water with dye in it." Kleya answered, finishing the glass with a shrug.

"Why?"

"On the job. Don't want to inhibit my thinking."

"Right because then you might agree to do this for free," Mon said, catching the other woman in her own trap.

Kleya rolled her eyes ever so slightly. The eye roll of a professional.

"I heard about your daughter," she started, "she's really going back to Chandrila huh?"

The sinking feeling at the bottom of Mon's gut returned. For a brief moment she'd forgotten about her daughter's choices, and now she was blindsided by it all over again.

"Let me guess," Kleya said, moving to stand right in front of her, "she thinks it's romantic."

"It would appear so."

"Did you tell her otherwise?"

Mon stayed quiet, not willing to admit the answer.

She loved her daughter, and she hated that she was making this decision. But it was an overwhelming positive thing for the sake of the rebellion. That's one less set of eyes on Mon.

She hated how rational it was. She hated that she was the one who had to make this sacrifice.

"I'm really sorry," Kleya told her, "I know you've been trying to keep her as far away from… that, as possible."

Mon smiled, glancing at the other end of the room where her husband made small talk with a businessman.

"Thank you Kleya." She said, heartwarmed a bit at the idea that someone acknowledged her suffering.

"I think I'm going to leave." Kleya said, prying herself from the wall.

"Now?"

"Yeah, I have a sense Luthen is doing something more important without me. He needs supervision."

"I should come with you," Mon Mothma argued, knowing the attempt was futile.

"You don't believe that's a good idea," Kleya told her, snatching a glass of Champagne off a waiting Droid as it passed.

"I know, I guess I'm jealous you're not trapped here." She explained, accepting the glass Kleya handed her.

"Change is coming, Mon. But you know better than anyone we have to be patient. We might not even be around to see it, but the spark on Aldhani set a fire, and it's spreading."

"And it must be extinguished," Mon said, her voice slightly raised. A man to her left looked at her, raised his glass with a nod. She accepted the gesture, satisfied with her ability to cover their tracks.

"I agree," Kleya said, "because it's a lot harder to put out a fire than a spark. More expensive too, and the last thing we want are higher taxes."

Mon smiled, a slight chuckle building at the edge of her mouth.

"Speaking of Aldhani, are we?" Perrin asked, surprising her by placing a hand on her shoulder.

"Oh, yes, it's truly awful what happened. Betrayed by their own General. It makes you think about how many more… abolitionist terrorists are out there." She told him.

Kleya eyed Perrin skeptically. Mon could see the other woman's visual analysis on her face.

And Kleya did not look impressed.

"Saw Gerrera and his 'rebellion' are nothing but ants. They can't touch us here. They'll continue to blow things up and make scenes on outer rim worlds, but that's all they'll ever be." Perrin told them, and Mon wanted to roll her eyes.

Saw Gerrera was not the only spark.

There were other snakes in the emperor's garden.

"I don't believe we've met," Perrin said, extending a hand to Kleya. Mon watched as the icy woman took it, undoubtedly using a firmer hand then her husband.

"Perrin Fertha," he said.

"Kleya Marki." She replied, retracting her hand.

"Do you know each other?" He asked.

"Kleya works with Luthen at the treasures and antiques place I like. She sold me your birthday gift."

"Ah, you have good taste Kleya. In both art and career. Luthen's work is well renowned and highly valuable. I appreciate the work you do."

Kleya smiled, going as far as to add a small curtsey.

Mon couldn't wait to tell Luthen.

"Well I try. I like to say that every piece tells a story, and my job is to do my best to convey that story to the customer. I must be pretty good because your wife keeps coming back."

Perrin just smiled, taking Mon's shoulder and attempting to usher her away.

"Just give me a moment, would you dear? I have another matter to discuss with Ms Marki regarding Luthen's new Alderaan collection.

"Of course, join me by the stairs when your finished. I have some friends I would like to introduce you to."

When he was out of earshot, Mon returned her attention to Kleya, who seemed to be chomping at the bit to leave.

"Sorry about that," Mon apologized.

"Why? You're not responsible for his behavior."

Mon smiled, but it wasn't a typical smile. It was more of an acceptance of defeat than anything.

"I shouldn't have talked to him that way," Kleya said, "I'm sure I just caused you trouble."

"It's okay, I'll manage. I wish you were around more often, it would take the heat off me."

"You know where to find me." Kleya told her plainly.

The words rolled off the tongue like an invitation, but Mon wasn't sure to what.

"You should go," Kleya told her. "Don't worry about me, or Luthen. Go appease the senate, senator."

Before Mon could reply Kleya reached forward, extending a hand to the edge of her face, brushing past it to her ear.

Ever so gently Kleya rotated her earring, fixing the position it had mistakenly shifted to.

"Can't be anything less than perfect, can we?" Kleya whispered in her ear as she moved.

Mon simply sighed, shaking her head.

"I'll see you around, Senator." Kleya told her, before removing herself from her corner and disappearing into the crowd.

Mon took a second to collect herself, then followed the cold trail left by Perrin towards what was undoubtedly another round of his friends making political or sexual passes at her.

Passes he would ignore.

And for longer than a moment she wished Kleya had stayed with her, even if only to share the burden.

#andor #mon mothma x kleya #mon mothma #star wars #i just really like them okay #i just want mon to be happy

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heretherebedork · 2 years

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I know he needs the money, but at this point, I think Porsche should be "let go" as a bodyguard, be able to go back home, and his official title with the main family should just be "Kinn's boyfriend." With how they are right now, Porsche's mere presence is too much of a distraction for Kinn to get any work done with the family. But now that I think about it, I don't think Kinn wouldn't be able to focus with Porsche not being at a close distance to him. He's in a tricky spot.

That would make sense. Porsche being Kinn's bodyguard makes no sense because we know that Kinn will put himself in danger to keep Porsche safe. Which... defeats the entire purpose of a bodyguard, by the way.

Ah, yes, the ever popular 'bodyguard I cannot allow to get hurt who's literal job is to get injured for my sake'.

Yeah, Kinn needs to let Porsche go or find him a different position or give him a new job title so he can just... exist and be in loved and be loved and nothing else because he's not any good as a protective agent when Kinn is obviously willing to sacrifice himself for him.

But also, yeah, Porsche is a constant distraction to Kinn. To the point that Kinn literally gave him a cell phone, against all the rules they're already breaking, in order to hear from him more often. (My disappointment that Porsche did not ask to add his brother's number to it cannot be measured).

Kinn can pay Porsche to do something else, a legit job even, hire him a bartender for fancy events! Keep him on staff to make you drinks! Whatever you need! Just, you know, remember that a bodyguard who can't be hurt is a useless bodyguard.

(no book spoilers)

#kinnporsche #thaibl #thai series #bl drama #bl series #thai drama #thai bl

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doodlyreone · 2 years

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Omniel's Followers: THEIR LORE

For basis development, here is like the main idea: Theres a village that is somehow involved with working with angelic beings in the past. I havent really work with the why and the how of it, but they ends up worshipping the notion that free will is uselless if painless immortality is something to be achieve.

Every 6 months of a year, a group lead by one of the "Markers" (the demi angel beings appointed to show the taste of joining this 'religion', which is Niel/Omniel's role) will do a tour around surrounding tows and villages and recruit critters into joining them. Their current target is Happy Tree Town.

===================

☆ Aster

- lowest rank. He is a curious case since he is actually not marked yet, as evident by the lackness of a cross in his pupils, but still considered part of the group. Omniel refuse to mark him to see how she will affect those who are not directly linked to her soul. That way, she can minimize the amount of critters that becomes a brainwashed member that adores her. Interestingly, he acts just like the others, singing praises and willing to do anything she says.

♧ Fickle

- The most recently marked member, a young roe buck that cant grow any antler. And since he have been marked at this state, he will remain thatcway. He is recruited in another town. He is still freaked out by the fact that he can still maintain awareness without pain for so long in any state, when normally he couldve just died. While he doesn't really have any friends in his old home, he is wondering what life could have been like if he never gets involved with this group.

◇ Zinnia

- A squirrel tasked with memorizing and carrying out rituals and holy invocations. She may or may not have a crush on Aster. Wait, that can't be possible, the mark should make her heart to be only devoted to Lady Omniel. Still, what's with this fluttering feeling when she's with him? Gah, focus, task is ahead. You can not fail for the sake of her Holiness. Presents herself as a logical being.

♡ Hasty

- Need to eliminate a sacrifice in a jiffy? Worry not for here is Hasty! A raccoon specializing in quick and easy kills. She always does her job with a sweet smile. She has been a member of this wonderful group for the long time now, she can't even remember the faces of her family! Actually, she bares not a single memory. Phooey to that, who needs memories when she feels the happiest serving Omniel?

And finally

♤ Crackle

- The only critter in this group, aside from Omniel, that was born and raised in the village. This bear is known to have a calm, soothing voice to the point that it is almost hypnotizing. You just can't pull away from looking into his eyes without struggle. It feels so much easier to fall into his command... what's that? Join a friendly group where there is no suffferring and only happiness??? That sounds quite nice.... I want to be included too...

===================

Feel free to ask or share your thoughts about them!

#Omniel's followers #htf oc #happy tree friends oc #htf oc bio #htf aster #htf fickle #htf zinnia #htf hasty #htf crackle #ask omniel's followers

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the-firebird69 · 3 months

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Annie Lennox - No More "I Love You's" (Official Video)

youtube

She is upset her man is having a mental problem with her with his brain and has to try and fix it. They're still in love and they want to try and get back together and their changes outside the word meaning the notes still there but he's an hell of a situation and she is and it's kind of like he and I and he said it and he was going to see why and I'm going to say why this is the max or unchecked and they have the world at Bay and they need attention that what they have is too much and it's out of gilster and the threatening a military coup all over the world and he says that we all need to get together and understand that's the problem the world is out of balance and they are not willing to share with anyone and they had the monsters maze made for their program and we think that secretly they're saying we don't love our father anymore and these people are now our friends even though they're hard to deal with bluto and his are welcome too

Hera

I'm not going to shoot at you again and I see how it went and what you're saying is why the hell is this happening and it might be that they got to Dave and they're having to bother you it doesn't look like they're going after the computers as much as they should and what you say is there's two flavors to the max when they're doing things like that and it just doesn't quite sound like them alone and usually they do that too but I hear what you're saying Dave is trying to grab you and he's kind of cheesy look at you Mass when he tried to put you in a box. That is his brother and he looks at him and says I wouldn't fall for that if it was the worst day on Earth and give me some Twinkies you stupid idiot I remember the words too that's what he said. So the whole bunch of them are eating all these twinkies and stuff and the guys like it's supposed to be for him for Christ's sake you know like you should go sleeping off employers you got the stupid things like that the wrong way and this makes sense and it kind of part of the crew.

Peter audette

And he's in the video with his clones and others are too. And the song says it you still love each other and we're not succumbing to hatred like the max want and because of that what's left is a Jew. I remember this woman and she's an artist and she's pretty Sharp and people need this right now of hers and people who are different clans and different races of theirs and foreigners too this is very potent and potent and it says that these people are doing the job and we should help and we should do it let's be interpreting it and say I wanted to say but still it's a very strong subject.

My wife my friend forever is in trouble and she is saying it that they can use sensing and that we can't stop the ones doing it that usually we have to work real hard we have a problem that they have these caverns and brokers and huge fleet they have a lock on some things and some areas and that we have this huge huge empire overshadowing the rest of us and whether we like it or not we need cover and we need to start working and we need to break this or we're going to be under the shadow until we're gone even though we might have things that can stop them to use them and we hesitate long enough and it's going to be ugly so we have to do other things and make it work and it's hard work and we need a lot of people they have these caverns and bunkers and planet toids and other and it is like vapor lock you can't get things done you can't get people out of the way and you can't seem to do your work and it's in a way of sacrifice and the max I've been doing it for a long time and sacrifice to us and ours when they are way too powerful and we're having trouble infiltrating it is time now there's no more putting it off and now we're waiting and people feel strongly for each other still it hasn't done the job and it should not be fear of that

Zues and Hera

I've never had someone say so much about my songs in such a little bit of time they're wonderful songs and my voice is absolutely beautiful and that's what I'm used to hearing and he says that too spell my name this is what it wouldn't spell binding this is way over the top and I don't mind

Annie

Olympus

I guess you're the Annie I sing about we hope you'll be okay we need to have talks between us and we need to do it now the whole world is mad at us telling us to shut up and harming Us in order for us to get out of the way

Michael Jackson

I'm going to do this and it's a great thing to do and I'm going to start organizing it

Annie

#Youtube

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