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sluttywoozi · 2 months

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Bloodhound Pt. I | chs x reader

Rating: M (18+) | WC: ~4.5k | Pairing: chs x reader | Genre: romance, supernatural au

Life as a vampire isn't the easiest for Vernon, friend-wise or feeding-wise. He's ready to find a solution, and he thinks it just might be you.

Warnings: blood mentions (i mean it's a vampire fic like ...), non explicit sexual advances from strangers online, suggestive thoughts, involuntary thoughts of violence/murder, the briefest angst (it's me lbr), food mention, mention of being unable to eat

Reader Notes: human, has 2 brothers (i don't name or describe them so they can be other members if u want), currently ungendered (will have breasts and vagina in future smut)

It took a while for Vernon to figure out what happened to him. He still doesn’t know all the details, just that he woke up in an alley with blood all over his clothes and a burning in his throat that wouldn’t cease, and even now, he doesn’t know who did this. Who made him like this.

This being a vampire, of course.

He knew they existed, but in his short twenty five years walking the earth as a human, he doesn’t think he ever met one. He supposes now he has, considering the fact that he didn’t just wake up like this out of nowhere. He wonders if they meant to change him, or if he bit back and managed to get some of their blood in his system before they left him for dead.

Either way, he’s a vampire now, and it fucking sucks. Literally and metaphorically.

There are many cons, and only a few pros, he’s discovered in the six months since he was turned. He can’t go out in the sun anymore, and he’s so strong, he’s broken three phones. Worse than that, he likes the taste of blood now, likes feeling the coppery liquid fill his mouth before he swallows it down, likes the way it soothes his throat and sates his hunger. His brain still screams at him that it’s not normal or right or cool of him to be drinking fucking blood, and the cognitive dissonance gives him a headache every time he feeds.

That’s another con, the feeding. He doesn’t want to just snatch innocent people and drain them dry like his maker did, but he can’t afford blood bags like the rich vampires, and he also hates the synthetic options available on the market. They all have an awful taste, like too sour grapes, and the weirdest consistency, just a bit too thin to alleviate the burning he still feels.

That leaves him to find willing donors, which is surprisingly difficult when you don’t want to fuck them too. He doesn’t have anything against fetishists, but he also doesn’t have a lot of experience, and gaining it with people who only like him because he’s a vampire isn’t what he wants.

He’s tried the apps, tried the matching services, but they all lead to people who just want him for his venom, and he’s grown tired of it. So, he does the next logical thing.

He puts an ad out on Craigslist.

Vernon wakes from his daily rest to find his inbox completely full, his phone buzzing on a near constant vibration with every email received. He props himself up on an elbow in bed (no, he doesn’t sleep in a coffin), and scrolls through, cringing at all of the sexual subject lines and wondering if maybe he shouldn’t have included pictures.

He felt like it was the normal thing to do, share part of himself in hopes someone will share back, but it seems all he’s done is made them feel bolder, made them feel more comfortable being open about what they want from him, even though he clearly put NOT DTF in the listing. But maybe that’s a good thing?

He can easily weed out the people who don’t actually want to help him out, and he doesn’t even have to open every single message to find out who they are. His thumb blurs as he deletes email after email, the amount in his inbox dwindling the longer he swipes, until finally, he’s left with one unread.

The subject line is innocuous enough, [interested in becoming friends with “benefits”], and he opens it to find a picture of you, with your arms extended on either side and seemingly wrapped around something, though nothing appears in the picture. You begin by saying that your two vampire brothers took the photo with you, which explains the empty spaces, and continue to tell him that they were changed against their will, attacked on their way home from seeing Spiderman in the movies a few years ago.

That tugs the corners of his lips down, makes him feel sorry that there are other vamps out there like him, other vamps who didn’t choose this life. He knew he wasn’t the only one, but seeing, or he supposes not seeing proof drives the idea home.

Apparently, they struggled with finding a source of sustenance too, never wanting to turn to you for your blood or your help, and when you saw his post, it made you think maybe you could help someone, in some way.

He’s curious what solution your brothers found, and curious if you’re really offering to be fwbb (friends with blood benefits), but reminds himself to be cautious - this could all be a lie to lure him in, to get his defenses down so you can go after what you really want. He maintains that thought as he types out a reply to you, trying to play it cool and not get his hopes up.

Vernon | hey! im sorry to hear what happened to your brothers, my turning was under similar circumstances. ive been looking for someone for a while, someone who i could feed from without hurting, but maybe also a friend too? Idk i lost most of mine when i was changed, even though i didn’t ask for it, and it would be nice to have someone who understands like it seems you could

Okay, so that didn’t come out cautious at all. He practically laid his soul bare and sent it off to you with a smile (literally he ended the email with his name and a smiling emoji). But it’s already in the void, in the cloud, out of his hands, and now all he can do is wait.

Vernon doesn’t have to wait for long, he finds. You reply within minutes, the buzz making him jump and glance away from the space he was staring into. He does that a lot now, just finds some point in the room and sets his eyes on it, thoughts running through his mind in circles and zig zags and parallel lines.

His phone is still lit up with the email icon, and when he brings it up to his face, it unlocks to reveal a new message from you.

You | Oh no, I hate to hear it happened to you too! Is it still fresh? I know you said you were only turned a few months ago. My brothers wouldn’t even see me for a year after, too concerned that they’d snap and hurt me. I never had that fear, but I never blamed them for it either.

Funny, that’s the fear that drove his friends away in the first place. It’s nice to hear you don’t have it, that you accepted your brothers’ new forms immediately and also accepted their worries, didn’t get upset or hold it against them when they felt they couldn’t be near you for your own safety.

You | I think we could definitely make this work! I have blood and friendship to spare, and you’re in need of both. My only restriction is that I can’t offer too much of the first on weekdays, I teach third grade and I need all my energy to wrangle those kids :-)

So you’re a teacher too? Are you just entirely altruistic or…?

If you are, he thinks this might really be good, maybe even great. His heart would be racing if it could still move, and he can’t stop himself from scrolling back up to find your picture. He didn’t pay much mind to it before, didn’t study your face like he’s doing now, and he really should have before responding to you.

Because you’re beautiful, and he’s in danger.

In danger of what, he doesn’t know, but he can feel it stirring in his belly, burning like hunger and brewing like need, and before he knows it, his fangs are poking at his bottom lip and his dick is throbbing.

But he won’t give in, won’t ruin this with his base desires, won’t become something to fear.

He needs a blood source and a friend, and if he wants you to be both, he can’t be lusting after you like the monster he worries he really is.

Vernon exchanges emails with you for days after that, going over logistics and preferences and possibilities. You decide together that you’ll meet next month, after some time spent getting to know and trust each other, and he decides not to feed from you that first meeting, wanting you to feel comfortable and safe with him before he sinks his teeth into you.

It makes him feel giddy almost, the anticipation of having a friend, of having someone to drink from who doesn’t carry ulterior motives, of having you. Emails become texts which become calls, and soon enough, he’s got the tone and cadence of your voice memorized. He learns how you take your coffee in the morning, knows that you’d both die and kill for your kids, hears the love in your voice when you’re talking about your brothers.

You’re a real, genuine person, and Vernon can’t wait to meet you.

The days and nights fly by now that he has someone to talk to, and it only hits him the week before your meetup that not only will he be meeting you, you’ll be meeting him.

You’ll be seeing and hearing and perceiving him, and suddenly, he’s nervous out of his mind. He hasn’t met anyone that stuck around since he was changed, and he’s all too aware that you could slip out of his life just as easily as you slipped in.

In the days before, he tries to remind himself that you’ve already heard his voice, already seen his face, that you know he’s a vampire and haven’t shown any sign of running.

It doesn’t occur to him to worry about his own reaction to you, which is mistake number one.

Mistake number two is going to your meeting hungry.

You settle into the booth, latte in hand and heart beating out of your chest, and keep your eyes locked on the door. Vernon should be arriving soon, and with so many conflicting emotions razing your thoughts, you don’t know how you feel exactly.

You’re nervous, of course, as you should be when it comes to meeting online people in real life. You’re scared a little, because what if he’s not as harmless as he seems? He is still a vampire, and he could still easily kill you. But you’re also a bit… excited? He’s cute and sweet and in dire need of a confidante, and you think you could be that for him.

Over the weeks spent getting to know Vernon, you’ve grown fond of him, fond of his dry jokes and his media recommendations and his fascinating opinions, and you’re interested to see if your easy back and forth will remain in person.

This should be a good environment to test it out, you think.

You chose this cafe because it’s open twenty four hours, but also because it’s welcoming to vamps, serving a few synthetic options and even carrying donated blood for those with a bigger budget.

What will Vernon get, you wonder? Will he go for synthetic even though he’s admitted to you that he hates it, or will he spring for a blood bag, drink it in front of you with a straw like it’s expensive cherry cola?

Will he buy nothing, deny his hunger and his state of being?

It’s a shame you don’t get to find out.

Vernon takes in a no longer necessary deep breath to steady his nerves and places his hand on the door of the cafe, primed to pull it open. There’s a growl in his stomach, an emptiness that reminds him he didn’t have a chance to feed before, and he pushes it down, drowns it out, ignoring it for all he’s worth.

There’ll be time later, after he finally meets you.

His hand is steady as he pulls the door open but his ice cold heart is in his throat, lodged there like something he can’t swallow down.

“Come on in!” The barista calls out, allowing him to cross the threshold and enter the cafe. He nods in thanks and starts to scan the tables for someone familiar, someone whose picture he definitely doesn’t look at before he lays himself to rest every morning. His eyes catch on a hand raised, one that leads down a soft arm to a gently sloped shoulder and up a tantalizing neck to a sweet, kind, open face. Your sweet, kind, open face.

He grins, beams really, and races over, stirring napkins and shifting chairs with his sudden movement. He’s about to slide into the booth across from you when it hits him.

Your scent.

It’s like a brick wall smashing into him, every sane, rational thought in his head scattering like rubble in the wake of your natural perfume, unmarred by synthetic smells and caustic chemicals like so many others out there.

Instantly, the burning in his throat starts, except this time, it’s an inferno, a supernova of pain and need and desire and hunger screaming at him to take take take. His fangs shoot out, bursting through his bottom lip and making him cover his mouth, frantically backing away from you with his eyes wide and his other hand held out to keep you in the booth when it looks like you might follow him.

He bumps into tables and chairs as he flees, his blazing red eyes still locked with yours, part feral, part apologetic. The door slams behind him but he doesn’t hear it as he runs, his ears full of a roaring voice telling him that he’s going the wrong way, that he needs to go back to you and steal you and keep you and sip drink devour until you’re his, all his, until you’re glassy eyed and your heart is slow and your breaths are even slower.

Which is fucking terrifying, the thought of ever hurting you like that, of wanting to hurt you like that, making him shake with rage at himself and despair over likely blowing it with you.

He’s miles out of the city before he stops running.

When he finally does, he turns in a slow circle, taking in his surroundings and attempting to find his humanity again even with his mind still screaming at him to find you and fucking kidnap you. His clothes are torn and his bones are aching and his stomach is empty, so very, very empty, but nothing is worse than the shame.

He wasn’t strong enough for you. He wasn’t in control, wasn’t even capable of sitting across from you without wanting to drag you over the table and either kiss you breathless or suck you dry.

Numbly, he sinks to the ground, laying himself out on the forest floor and staring up at the moon peeking through the trees.

He feels like it’s taunting him.

The moon used to be his friend, back when he was human. He was a perpetual night owl, always staying up late with his curtains open and music blaring and the light of the moon filtering in through the window. His roommates didn’t mind the noise because they were all making their own, and it wasn’t often any one of them would be sleeping before the sun came up.

He lived most of his life at night and slept during the day, wasting the sunshine and warmth and normal waking hours like the ungrateful bastard he was.

He can remember the moon that night. The night he was bitten.

It was a blood moon, foreshadowing trouble around the bend, and it’s about the only thing he does remember before the agony blinded him and his memories started to flicker through his brain, going too fast for him to make sense of much.

Some stood out, like when his baby sister came home for the first time, screaming and crying until she set those big eyes on him and fell silent, transfixed. Or when he was thirteen and broke his arm sledding in Prospect Park, pretending after that it didn’t hurt because all his friends were watching, waiting for tears. Or when he got a full ride at Berklee for music production, every exhausting day sped up and reduced to a flash before he saw himself walking across the stage and shaking the Dean’s hand.

He succumbed to the encroaching darkness soon after, the red moon growing nearer and nearer in his mind’s eye. He awoke hours later, just minutes before the sunrise, with his throat on fire and his body feeling like someone else’s.

This moon is full and silver, friendlier looking than the last one he remembers, but no less foreboding.

This moon is the one he ruined everything under.

He’s sure any chance he had with you is gone. Any chance to be your friend or maybe even more, as he’s realizing only now that he did want more. Does want more.

How could he not, when you matched his energy, met him quip for quip, made him a playlist and a hypothetical skincare routine? When you devoted so much of your time to helping others and still made some for him? When you’re so beautiful inside and out, that it would take his breath away if he needed to breathe?

How could he ever not want more with you?

You stare down at your undoubtedly cold latte and furrow your brows, scrunching your mouth to the side as you remember how Vernon ran from you.

The barista has already been by to check on you, and you can still feel their eyes every so often, concern and pity rolling off of them in waves. You appreciate their empathy, but you feel a bit raw, a bit on edge, and you wish you could just burrow into the booth and go unseen. You’d leave but too many people who witnessed it remain, and you don’t have it in you to walk past them just yet.

That leaves you to wrap your trembling hands around the mug and bring it up to your lips, attempting to act like nothing is wrong. Like it’s normal for your possible friend and perhaps crush to dash away at one whiff of you.

You have to assume that’s what happened. He seemed so happy to see you, his mouth stretching wide in a smile and his hand coming up to mirror yours as he zoomed over in a blur. The wind he created made you laugh but it also rustled your hair, blew it away from your neck and probably wafted the scent of your rushing blood toward him.

You don’t wear perfume or use fragranced products, your brothers’ noses are too sensitive for that, and you bite your lip, considering that perhaps you should have just this once. Your brothers are old enough to be able to control themselves but Vernon isn’t.

He may be twenty five in human years but in the vampire world, he’s still a baby, and you didn’t approach him as such.

Fuck, this is all your fault.

You sip down the latte slowly, the rich bittersweetness heavy on your tongue, and take a small bite of the cake the barista brought over while you were stewing in your thoughts. It settles like a stone in your belly and you push it away, unable to eat with the idea that you may never see or hear from Vernon again blaring in your mind.

It’s only been a few weeks since you started talking to him but he feels… special. Important. Like someone who’s meant to be in your life. You’d hate to go back to not having him in it, especially now that you know what it’s like with him around.

Everything is brighter, happier, more vibrant. You wake with a smile on your face knowing you’ll have a goodnight text from him, countdown the minutes from sunrise to sunset knowing he’ll call you as soon as he opens his eyes, go about your day wishing you were sleeping next to him instead.

You don’t want to be a vampire, but by God you really think you could love this one.

So you’re not going to let him go that easily. You’re not going to let him fade into the night, never to be seen again. And you’re definitely not going to let him be alone anymore, not like he has been since he was turned.

With determination alight in your veins, you unlock your phone and find Vernon’s contact, pressing call and assuming he’ll send you to voicemail. You have a lot to say, and you’ll be glad to get it off your chest. You’re surprised when a ragged voice greets you, sounding, for all intents and purposes, dead inside.

“Hello?”

“Vernon?” You gasp desperately, any thought of a speech gone from your head as soon as you hear his voice.

“Y/n?” He gasps back, suddenly full of wonder and light and life. “I didn’t check before I answered, I can’t believe it’s you.”

“Why can’t you believe it’s me? We talk every day,” you joke halfheartedly, not even trying to suppress the frown at his response.

“I thought you’d never want to speak to me again after I went feral like that,” he confesses, shame and dejection obvious in both his words and his voice.

“Vernon, you didn’t go feral. Feral would have been killing me. You ran instead, hell, you protected me!”

“Yeah, from myself,” he laughs acerbically, making you roll your eyes at his self-deprecating tone.

“Listen, you’re still new. My brothers had run-ins like this too, it’s not a sign of your character or your control. It’s just a byproduct of your nature, you can’t help it,” you insist, pleading with him to understand and stop blaming himself.

“That almost makes it worse! The fact that there’s nothing I can do, nothing I can change. I don’t think I can see you until I figure this out,” he sighs regretfully, and somehow you can picture him shaking his head, his brow furrowed and his mouth tight.

“What are you going to do until then? How are you going to feed?” You ask in concern, knowing it’s already been a few days and selfishly wanting him to change his mind.

“I don’t know, I’ll spring for the blood bags and try some synthetic too,” you can tell he’s shrugging, and his nonchalance at being able to fucking eat has you lighting up with anger. You tamp it down, try to temper it, but your anger isn’t just at him.

You’re upset with the world, with the greedy overlords who decide the price of life, with the asshole who took Vernon’s away from him, with the fact that he may never be able to control himself around you. Talking has been enough for the last month but that’s just with you in the crush phase.

What happens when you finally fall in actual facts love with him?

“Vernon…,” you start, not knowing where you’re going but knowing where you want to finish (with his teeth in your neck and your body on top of his).

“Y/n, I’m not risking you.”

He sounds as firm as you’ve ever heard him, and you feel the anger ramp up and then wash away as you realize you’re simply not going to win. There is still a way you could help him though. It might be tedious and painful, but you’re willing to endure it for Vernon.

“What if I go to a donation center and have them reserve it for you? You’d just have to tell them your name and show your ID and you could drink my blood instead of paying for bags. You may still need to supplement with synthetic but together they could tide you over until we can meet again.”

There’s silence on the other end for a few minutes, minutes you spend picking at your nails and going over tomorrow’s lesson plan in your head. You doubt he realizes how long he’s been thinking about it, but you’re not going to rush him when it’s likely that his hasty answer would be no.

“I don’t know… I could still- You’d have to be so far away from me, I couldn’t even smell you,” he sounds unsure, apprehensive, and you don’t want to force him into it but you know this is the best solution.

“You could wait a day or two before going to pick it up? It’ll be less fresh but maybe by then my scent will have faded,” you offer, nearly ready to beg him to say yes.

A few more beats follow, your breathing steady and calm though your heart is racing, galloping in your chest as you wait for his response. You just want to know Vernon is happy and healthy and fed, you just want to take care of him. It seems like no one has done that in a long time, maybe since even before he was turned.

“Okay, we can try,” he still sounds reluctant, but there’s an edge too, a determination that wasn’t there before.

You bite back the squeal, vibrating in your seat as you look up centers nearby. There’s one just down the street and it’s open twenty four hours, so realistically, you could go right now.

“I’ll donate tonight, just don’t change your mind in the next couple days, okay?” You rush to say, grinning and relaxing in the booth when you hear him let out an easy laugh.

“I’ll do my best,” he chuckles, and though you know you should hang up and get going, you can’t help but linger.

“Did you make it back to your apartment alright?” You ask, realizing you don’t hear any music or TV in the background like you normally do.

“Ummm, I think I might be in Connecticut actually.”

He’s not nearly as bothered by this as you are, he even sounds almost carefree compared to how he first picked up the phone.

As if he can anticipate your responses, he says, “I’m not coming back until you’re home safe, okay? With the door locked.”

“You don’t even know where I live,” you remind him, jest in your voice and fondness in your heart.

“That doesn’t matter. I could find you anywhere with how good you smell,” his admission sounds apologetic almost, like he’s sorry for wanting your blood so bad he could find you by fragrance.

Honestly, you preen a bit, flattered that you seem to affect him so.

“Let me go to the blood bank and get you squared away first, then I’ll go straight home and lock all my locks,” you can hear the smile in your voice, hear the affection, and you wonder if Vernon hears them too. You hope he does.

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

AN: i was super excited to kickstart baby vamp vernon so i figured i'd post on his (and dk's) birthday!! this was inspired by a series of asks, but mainly this one. it got a bit more plot heavy than i expected but i'm having a good time so far!! i have the second part written already and i'm hoping to write part three before i release part two just so i can stay ahead of it and yall don't have to wait too long!

pls pls pls reblog and lmk how you liked it! you don't know how happy it makes me to see your thoughts and feelings on my work, they're my fuel to keep sharing my writing 🥰

*warnings for this were a bit tricky so if you think i missed anything, lmk and i'll be happy to add it!

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Part II

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makima4ever · 7 months

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Dissonance (3)

tumblr, pLEASE LET <ME WRITE Ghost x M!Reader 1, 2, 2.5, Part 3 TAGLIST: (IF U WANNA BE ADDED JS ASK ME) @originaldeerhottub @br4inr0tzz @gildedkrone . . . You could see someone sitting beside you as you were eating breakfast.. they had slightly blondish hair that was both kept and rather messy, dark spots around their eyes; they wore a black hoodie and grey sweatpants.. You couldn't really tell who it was, as it was all a blur, as fast as it appeared it went.. it left a certain emptiness feeling welling in your stomach like a cup being filled up as it gave you a feeling of unease, as you could remember the warmth of that moment. It was like it was real, almost tangible as the smile.. the light.. the smell of eggs and something.. fruity? It felt way too real yet you didn't complain, being entranced and lost in the sensations alongside the metallic and smooth feel of a fork paired with the feeling of something sweet on your tongue- as you could hear faint sipping noises accompanied by the floral scent of tea from somewhere.. It felt comforting, it was non-threatening unlike the battlefield and constant warring conflicts all about. Your body was moving as you yourself have no autonomy but you didn't care, this felt.. like heaven, something you craved as much as the food smelled, oddly enough. This was something you always dreamed about, after all. The light basking in the room was not too bright, it was rather.. pleasant, than being just a harsh glare. It was like picture perfect lighting in some photos, where it was just.. beautiful. Something you'd want to experience yourself as it accentuated the mood further. You could see that smile of his.. a slight stubble with a small but light smile pursed on his lips as he seemed to be looking at you as well. Locking eyes.. but you couldn't meet that as he seemed to be speaking to you. You could hear his voice but no real distinction, like an echo of the past; it was.. so surreal. It was clear yet so muddy, having clarity but it was just as unclear as a cloudy sky. ' Hey, luv'? I want to tell you something. ' He chimed out softly. His voice.. it was enchanting as it was gentle to your ears, like a quiet symphony, catching your attention almost instantly as you looked up at him- his face blurred by the light as you couldn't register him but looked at the mysterious figure anyways. Breath abated as your eyes seemingly met with his past the eternal light shone down on this moment, as your own smile slowly crept up to your face- " Hey. Wake up, luv. " .. It was a lot more different this time around, you could distinctly hear the British accent this time.. the face was growing muddy and rippled like water as you couldn't focus as the words "Wake up." rung inside your head like an alarm clock.. It was loud and seemed infinite in it's wake. Your brain couldn't register the last word, sounding even more messed up than the rest. . . . ! You suddenly awoke from what a fever dream you had, your eyes snapping open as they were bloodshot, crimson red veined eyes as it darted around- finding no other than the infamous Ghost looming over you with the other members standing by your side, looking down at you patiently as some paced around. Sweat formed at your brows and forehead, dripping down the sides of your head slowly. 'Okay, what the fuck? We're they watching me like vultures?' "Ghost.?" Your voice croaked out on instinct, it was.. was it a reflex? You just happened to say the first thing that came to mind, to which you had no idea where it came from, or where exactly. It just.. appeared, like that dream you had. Certainly odd as he perked up, looking at you with a shift in his demeanor; relaxing his shoulder slightly in a more tense-free stance. There was.. something about his eyes.. "Yes, Immortal?" Ghost replied rather bluntly but as attentive to your condition and words as he listened to what you had to say, if anything. But, there seemed to be something he wanted to hear most of all. There was a small hope- even if it was small, praying that you remembered.

#cod x male reader #ghost x male reader #mw2 x male reader #simon ghost x male reader #ghost simon riley x male reader #ghost cod x male reader #simon ghost riley x male reader #ghost x gn reader #ghost x reader #ghost cod #ghost mw2

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historicity-was-already-taken · 3 months

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Welcome New Followers Post xiv

gonna make this bullet points of Things to Know because deadlines, but hi! welcome!

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-I am a white, American woman. I am actively anti-racist, and anti-bigotry in general, but there will be times when I do or say something clueless or privileged. If you see that and you have the energy, please tell me! I want this blog to be a welcome place for all,* and I appreciate call-outs as an opportunity for (un)learning.

-Building on that, this is an anti-bigotry space which I'd like people of all demographics and identities to feel comfortable engaging with.* That said, I don't play nice when some random corner of tumblr rolls up in here and barfs their shit all over my posts.

-I am a cringe millennial. I started this blog in 2011, when I was 21, had just finished college, before I'd heard back from any graduate schools, and before I had much resembling a career. I am currently 34. It's fine. But a lot of you are in your teens and 20s and are just starting on your careers, so like, please don't negatively compare yourselves to me or get self-deprecating when/if you want to contact me. We all learn and achieve at different paces and that's ok.

-My book, The Girl Bandits of the Warsaw Ghetto, will be released in Fall 2025. Trust me I will be screaming from the rooftops and you will not miss the announcements lmao.

-If I don't reply to an ask or a DM, it's not because I hate you. There are 800 reasons why I may not reply, and none of them are personal.

and finally

-I am not your Good Leftist Anti-Zionist Jew. I am not here as a rhetorical cudgel for left-wing anti-Semites who seek out Jews with politics similar to mine to then use as a weapon against other Jewish folks. Don't fucking do it.

*That does not mean that everything I post here will make you feel comfortable. History isn't supposed to make you feel comfortable. Sometimes, it can and should make you feel actively uncomfortable, because that discomfort/cognitive dissonance means you're learning (keep your cognitive dissonance temper tantrums tf away from me, tho). It does mean that I, as an individual, want you all to feel that this is a space where you are welcome to learn and ask questions.

i tried to use bullet points to keep this short, and i failed miserably. on brand.

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shiut · 2 months

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Both danganronpa and even rain code have this underlying but incredibly persisting theme of the cognitive dissonance between one's personality vs their own nature that I can't help but think about a lot.

In my head I tend to call it the "Leon paradox" because he's the first and most obvious character I think of in regards to this, though he's far from being the only one. Despite being an effortlessly talented baseball prodigy, he dislikes doing it and his actual passion is becoming a musician. However, he's pigeonholed into doing something he doesn't enjoy simply because he's good at it and it's a means to an end since it's his only way of getting anywhere.

This gets expanded in dr2. Imposter's dissatisfaction with having to always be someone else. Akane not caring about being a gymnast much at all aside from the perks it gets her. Nagito's disdain for his luck talent that brings him constant misery while also acknowledging that it's the one thing about himself that he can count on the most.

It even becomes a focal point with Hajime, who did everything to fight his nature of lacking a talent. However, Chiaki points out that it's the fact that he has no specific talent that gives him more freedom than any of the ultimates that he admires. Turned out, gaining every talent put Hajime into his own prison, and it's his loss of personality that made him essentially useless.

Even in V3 you have Kaede who actually loves her talent so much that she feels like it's an obsession that affects her ability to socialize normally. Kokichi also seems to have brief moments where he acknowledges that his talent is a huge barrier to being able to actually connect with people and causes his loneliness, but decides that it's a compulsion that's too troublesome to change so he just accepts it.

Shuichi sticks out to me when it comes to this theme. He's extremely good at detective work and will often do it on impulse regardless of reward. However, even just stumbling on his first murder case and solving it before the police could even touch it, he could not cope with the results of the person he'd affected. His emotional sensitivity traumatized him into being avoidant, even using a hat as a literal blinder. He was prepared to die in the first trial in fear of revealing the truth. His compulsion to do detective work even kind of ruined Kokichi and Kaito's plot in ch5, as he got so ahead of himself with revealing the truth that just kind of blurted everything out before realizing that he shouldn't have. His compulsion with detective work even seems to make him comparatively calmer and more focused during investigations than the other protagonists, despite easily being the emotionally weakest-willed out of all of them. He repeatedly keeps falling back into his talent despite the emotional toll it has on him because he just can't help himself. He kind of acts as an example of one of the reasons why Kyoko was trained to be emotionally detached.

Jin actually is very much like Shuichi. He tries to actively avoid detective work because he despises the emotional detachment required for it. You wouldn't even know that he's actually really good at it, but you see glimpses into his skill in the novels where he'll end up figuring things out before even Kyoko does on more than one occasion. I can talk a lot about Jin, but I do get the feeling that one of the reasons why he works at Hope's Peak is because he knew more about what would end up happening there than he let on. He probably could have gotten quite a few things done if he wasn't so insistent on fighting his own nature as a detective.

Very honorable mention to Yui, who turned down an invitation to Hope's Peak for her high-jumping talent in order to pursue her passion as a very mid detective. She might've even lived if she went to Hope's Peak because I'm pretty sure she would've graduated by the time of the tragedy, but at least she died in the most based way possible by rejecting them.

And of course, Junko is a prime example of the detrimental effect of talent. Because of her analytical abilities, she can practically guess everything that's going to happen. Her obsession with despair is a desperate attempt at being mentally stimulated in a society that has let the status quo stagnate to such a critical degree that it's the reason why the very concept of talent had been rotted to this point. Sorry to Kodaka, who has repeatedly said that Junko is meant to be a truly evil villain with no motivation, but he did kind of accidentally give her a motivation in dr0 where we're shown for a fact that without her memories and ability to analyze, she's relatively normal and tame. That is her nature, just a kind of weird girl who wants to be a tradwife and go grow corn somewhere. However, I think it can be argued that what is meant by "pure evil with no motivation" is that she doesn't have any sort of tangible tragic backstory. You can even say it's not her analyst ability alone that caused her madness, since there's plenty of normal non-world-ending analysts. It may simply be that her personality happened to mix terribly with her talent, and that's the nature of what makes her pure evil, because both of those aspects of her are part of her nature that she can not (nor does she even want to) control despite the misery it causes her. She simply learned to love the misery.

Makoto himself is very clear about being bitter about his luck. For the most part, what's apparent to him is that it causes him constant trouble and the good that it actually does for him is so subtle and disjointed that he doesn't even realize it's his luck. However, I think what makes him different from people like Nagito or Junko is his personality. He doesn't obsess like they do, and his optimism makes him bounce back easily. I think his luck even feeds into his personality and, inverse to Junko, it's the unpredictability of his luck that makes him hopeful and optimistic. Since he never knows what's going to happen to him, he had to develop a way to roll with the punches.

The aspect of personality vs ability also carries over to rain code. The master detectives are people who have innate psychic abilities that are seemingly based on their nature, and then it gets refined and specialized based on their personality. Not only does their personality help to refine these powers, but you see that their personalities and abilities often have detrimental impacts on each other.

Halara can't see living things in their postcognition because they aren't good at looking at people. Pucci's ability makes her hearing so sensitive that it's at least partially caused her emotional detachment. Melami not only likes fashion so much that she must wear the clothes of someone to use her power, but she also has to actually like the clothes too. Vivia is constantly fatigued and has depressive tendencies due his tenuous attachment to his spirit.

Former Number One/Makoto are a great example of this sort of destructive feedback loop of cognitive dissonance. You can infer that their empathy and obsession with helping people is what gives them the ability to use coalescence and share anyone's abilities, yet it's the fact that they can do anything that makes them feel like they must do everything. Ironically, the fact that they've convinced themselves that they must do everything makes their ability essentially useless because they end up only working alone. As a result, Former Number One became detached with every emotion except for his obsession, and it's what caused Makoto to ultimately spiral.

#danganronpa #rain code #raincode #rain code spoilers #my analysis #shiutpost

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gamma-radio · 1 year

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So I was thinking about forever-14 Danny at age 24 or so, living with his besties, trying to do adult human things, but looking like a child. Comparing that experience to gender dysphoria, and how fucked up it feels to try and do something as simple as grocery shopping or going to a restaurant and dealing with the constant subtle social exchanges of being treated as lesser/incompetent/untrustworthy by the adult world that he should be a part of.

Danny is never going to pass as an adult man. And he is SO fucked up about it.

He stops leaving the house whenever he can get away with it because he just doesn't want to deal with being seen. He's so tired of mentally straining against this public dissonance.

He's never going to pass as an adult man.

But. Sam has this crazy idea.

He COULD pass, pretty easily, as an adult woman.

#danny phantom #immortal danny #dp headcanons #headcanon #danny fenton

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androgynousblackbox · 7 months

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OKAY, so I haven't actually finished the book yet so maybe my opinion on this will change, but I honestly feel like the gringo booktubers I watch all have no idea of what to do with Tender Is The Flesh and are fundamentally wrong about it? Like, saw someone trying to say "this book tries to criticize the food we eat rather than the industry", which sounds like absolute fucking bullshit to me because a BIG portion of the fucking book is all about how the industry is treating "the meat" like fucking dogshit and how the characters themselves, the ones who work inside of the industry, are disgusted whenever anyone even attempts to say there is something good about it. There is this constant cognitive dissonance where the characters know what they are doing is inhumane and awful, that they are treating "the meat" horrible, but it's their job, what are they going to do, and at the same time they feel it crosses a line whenever someone call "the meat" human or are even beyond inhumane when someone says the meat "have a good life" because they get treated as studs. Also, like in general, I feel all of them miss the part about this author being argentine and thus how that colors their vision of how the industry works. The biggest industry in all of the argentina, the one that gave us any kind of possibility to survive in this world, was the meat industry, we actually fucking need it because we have nothing else to offer, and yet, all the powerful people who are involved with the meat industry in this work are all foreigners: a japanese man who collects skin of people and threatens his employees with skinning them alive, a gringo, that is literally called gringo, and a german man who is to utterly dettached that has no issue calling "the meat" human and also make inhumane comments about them. At that point is very obvious to me that this isn't about just criticizing an industry, but criticizing a system to whome the industries are merely a reflection of. It's not about the world, it's about a country being so set on their old ways and traditions that are literally willing to eat each other if it means having a foot in the outside world. Because otherwise we have fucking nothing. And this ALREADY fuck us over in the real world. The protagonist is literally the representation of that! He literally asks himself why he keeps working on this shit if it makes him miserable? Because he is the best at it, because he gets paid and he needs the money. CAPITALISM ALL THE WAY DOWN, BABY. Like, the meat food industry is bad, but also think about why they are bad and why the powerful people want it to be bad in the first place. Like, the books says that indigenous, immigrants and other POCs are the first humans to being eaten. The poor and elderly. Why do you all think that is?? Like, I just generally do not understand how you can read that and come out thinking "this person just wants me to be vegan and I don't like that"/"this person doesn't criticize the food industry", like I am a very fucking firm believer that vegans who spend every breath trying to make you vegan are shit and just eat whatever, but even I got that it was meant as something else than that. And how people keep saying that the ending "comes out of nowhere" when it's literally foreshadowed at the beggining at the book while doing the world building? Were you even paying attention at all at that point? Like, I literally saw someone being "I think this book overstimates how much it would take for the world to be okay with cannibalism", like THAT IS NOT THE POINT. The point is not to write "how it's a world where human meat is mandatory", but rather explore the idea in which the way we ALREADY eat each other gets taken to it's extreme. LITERALLY WHAT ALL DISTOPIA FICTION DOES?? Anyway, again, I might change my mind when I finish the work myself, but even by reading the start myself and knowing a bit about the background of this author, I just do not get any of these reviews at all.

#tender is the flesh #andro is talking

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dumping-ideas · 1 year

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About Tsukasa's Commissioned Songs and Featured VS

The most important part of Yama-san 1,5-hour stream about Mr.Showtime is:

There's a specific reason why Luka is chosen for Mr. Showtime, but the reason is confidential.

SO THERE IS SOME SIGNIFICANCE IN THE FEATURED VS (or at least for Tsukasa's commissioned songs)!!!

I mean, the reason might be that they need more Luka in their commissioned songs, and Tsukasa getting KAITO again (even though he's in desperate need of one) would be getting kinda stale, but, BUT, what if there's some story significance to the featured VS in Tsukasa's commissioned songs...? Especially because there is one specific thing that is both mentioned in Sasakure-san's interview about Tondemo Wonderz and in Yama-san rambling:

There has to be some kind of mood dissonance in Tsukasa's commissioned songs. Just brightness is no good, but just darkness is no good either.

TONDEMO-WONDERZ have some JP comments (in the original version) that said there's just something slightly off(?) about that song---how even though it sounds upbeat and playful some parts of the lyrics are quite questionable when they pay more attention to it. I've mentioned that Tsukasa is hinted to be posing a lot to make everyone smile (which is hinted again in 88☆彡 and confirmed in Mr. Showtime lyrics), so the mood dissonance in TONDEMO-WONDERZ is probably about the incongruity between the music and the deeper reading of the lyrics. Sure, the singers are super happy about it, but is it fine to feel confident in your boisterous act and won't ever let anyone see what's behind that act...? The dissonance is only there if people pay more attention to the lyrics, but other than that, you can read the song as about never giving up no matter how many failures they faced and will face. So, yeah, super positive on the surface, kinda disturbing if you dig deeper into it.

The featured VS, WxS!KAITO has been largely recognized by fans (with hints in multiple event stories) as Tsukasa's ideal self. A gentle, reliable, mature leader who can do anything and is always able to give a solution to everyone's problem that everyone depends on. Some fans also have a small critique before about how TONDEMO-WONDERZ doesn't feel like a Tsukasa commissioned song at all and feels more like a WxS ensemble song, but that's because that's what WMS is about on the surface---the story of WxS and how far they have come. Read deeper and you realize that it is a Tsukasa focus event with multiple layers, and so is TONDEMO-WONDERZ.

So, the reason why KAITO is the featured VS (other than because he's one of the OG VS of Wonderland SEKAI) might be because Tsukasa is still showing off the 'him' that he wants everyone to see. Sure, he might be putting up a bravado, but he will never give up! He will embrace both successes and failures, and no matter what happens he'll keep getting back up, like a phoenix! He will make everyone smile!! That's the Tsukasa that everyone knows and loves! He's the dependable leader of WxS, as WMS demonstrate perfectly well.

88☆彡 (still my favorite commissioned song next to Kanade Tomosu Sora) is properly recognized as Tsukasa's commissioned song, not only because Tsukasa has a vocal focus (although shared with Rui and Nene), but because it's also a song that conveys a side of him that people might not realize before Dazzling Stage. Both the song and the lyrics are warm and kind, and between Tsukasa praying for everyone to be happy and WxS telling us it's okay to rest between rushing to our dreams, it feels like being hugged by the warmth of a gentle sun and pushed forward by encouraging friends to the point of tears.

(okay, I'm gonna stop my gushing now)

The mood dissonance in 88☆彡 is not a constant presence like it is in TONDEMO-WONDERZ, but in the early part of the song. How the singer 'realizes' along the way that 'this' is only a child's play (or only something that can only trick children), and that he's 'the anticipated pierrot who's not discouraged' and as long as everyone smiles without restraint, he can laugh as well. I think everyone is of the opinion that there's just something not right about how happy the singer is to play the pierrot just to make everyone smile. In fact, the part about the pierrot is later kinda confirmed but also debunked in Mr. Showtime (and Tsukasa's trained card in Sky's Edge).

One thing to note about 88☆彡 is the reff is about the importance of taking a rest. We've spoken about how everyone in Wonderland SEKAI relies on KAITO, but another running storyline in Wonderland SEKAI (especially after Dazzling Stage) is that everyone in Wonderland SEKAI wants KAITO to rest and take a break from all his responsibilities. However, none of the VS and other residents of SEKAI is capable of replacing him, and so he has to step up again. Of course, he isn't mad, and it's more about gag shenanigans, sure, but tilt your head, squint your eyes, and you can kinda read it as KAITO not being able to step down from his 'reliable leader' role yet---and that is what Tsukasa still feel at this point in the game. This Tsukasa is the Tsukasa who has faced his pain and childhood loneliness, but I think this is just the surface.

KAITO might be chosen for 88☆彡 because this song conveys Tsukasa's caring and gentle personality that influences KAITO, and also how he should take a rest from his 'reliable leader' act. But Tsukasa couldn't (and wouldn't) step down that easily because everyone is still expecting him to fill that role, to be 'Tenma Tsukasa' that never waver.

However, Mr. Showtime and Sky's Edge finally shows the 'ugly' side of Tsukasa behind all his posing in TONDEMO-WONDERZ and his gentleness in 88☆彡. In other words, the other side of the 'reliable leader' that he has been showing to WxS, everyone around him, and even himself all this time.

Mr. Showtime... Oh, I wonder where I should start with this... Rather than a mood dissonance, this song sounds like a mysterious, secret, late-night circus show where everyone is laughing and having fun but you know there's something off about the circus... There's just some lurking darkness(?) and a deep melancholy in the music no matter how stylish it sounds. Fitting, because even if the song is about how the singer doesn't give up on shows (life) no matter how ugly and hopeless he feels, some highlights from the lyrics alone we have these lines:

The monologue echoes in the world (stage) where I was left alone

Is it impossible for me to do this and that?

I can't reach out at all. I don't think I can. To the stars I wished on.

Why? How come? I feel pathetic......

Popcorn didn't pop (I can't hear any hand clapping). It's getting burned, and it's a flavor of (tastes like) defeat. It tastes so bitter

Am I taking the long way? Am I making a fruitless effort?

This is not funny at all. I'm pathetic. I can't satisfy myself.

Even when the sky is dark at night, even when warm tears are shed blow away my melancholy.

Oh, flowers (lights) and songs (sounds), please comfort me; see?

The greed of an ordinary man; crawl to move forward.

Narcissist fools himself; give it your all and act like you are the brightest star.

Bluffing is fine! Am I having too much confidence?

Huge bluffing on the stage; even if I get scolded harshly.

So many negative thoughts compared to his previous commissioned songs, wow. Tsukasa really doesn't hold himself back when he decides to stop fooling everyone and himself, isn't he?

And this song might even reference his previous commissioned songs! The part about bluffing might be referencing how he's 'posing' to save everyone and make everyone smile in TONDEMO WONDERZ, and also the 'pierrot' in 88☆彡 (in all songs this is treated as a good thing, although Mr. Showtime tells us the 'pierrot' isn't as strong as previous songs hinted he is) , and the part about 'taking the long way' and 'the merry-go-round (thought process)' might be referencing the 'going around in circles' in 88☆彡 (while previously it's treated as something positive, it's treated as a negative thing in Mr. Showtime).

But geez, now it's really blatant who Tsukasa is, isn't he? It's not like he doesn't have any worries, it's just that he only 'presents' the confident part of himself in front of everyone---for everyone's sake, including himself, so he can always be the 'reliable leader' and the 'never-gives-up pierrot' that everyone can rely on. He manages to work around his problems due to his unrelenting diligence in front of challenging hurdles, but his worries about his acting skills all the way back in Pop in My Heart only finally comes to a climax in Sky's Edge, where he breaks down in tears because he knows he's pathetic and hopeless and still so far away from the place he wants to reach.

And that's probably why Luka is chosen to be the featured VS for Mr. Showtime.

See, even in the story lore itself, although we have so many details about Wonderland SEKAI, the game hints that we need to know Tsukasa more to know more about his SEKAI which, judging by how WxS storyline never touched Wonderland SEKAI and their mechanics, might be something of a plot point in the future. And the side story has hinted that there's something slightly off about Luka's sleeping tendencies. We know that she's sleeping when everyone is happy... but Wonderland VS never gives Rui and the players the exact why she is the way she is, just that it's involving Tsukasa's feelings somehow. However, the fans speculated (and the game also hints) that because Luka is sleeping when everyone is happy, she's awake when someone feels troubled over something---in Mr. Showtime, it's Tsukasa.

Back to Mr. Showtime, the fans (in JP, EN and KR from what I've observed) have noticed that Luka only opens her eyes in a few scenes---the reffs, the bridge, every time she appears with Tsukasa, and one where her lyrics is 'Until the day comes (the hands of the clock point to the closing time)'. Possibly hinting that this isn't the end of his worries.

So, it can be said that Luka is chosen because this is (one of(?)) Tsukasa's worries. Mr. Showtime is Tsukasa's first commissioned song where he doesn't try to hide the 'lesser' parts of himself with a happy-go-lucky attitude or purer feelings, unlike the songs where KAITO (his ideal) is featured.

However, he's still 'not there' yet because he's going back-and-forth by treating his life as only a show. Remember that the commissioned songs are canonically born from the character's feelings, so what does that say about Tsukasa where he still hides behind the pretense of a show, and even calls himself by the moniker Mr. Showtime? It might be because for Tsukasa, he is an actor in his show/life, only pretending to be the future star that he calls himself as, and/or maybe because he's not ready to show others his 'ugly' side yet.

But it's not like the song is all gloom and doom, because the song is about trying to reach your dream with ladders, no matter how ugly, pathetic, hopeless, and useless your effort and struggle is.

......Putting it like that sounds super depressing, but the fact still stands that even despite feeling all that, the singer doesn't want to give up. Only just now, compared to the two previous commissioned songs, Tsukasa manages to voice out his anxieties better(?).

But I don't think this is not the depth of Tsukasa's darkness(?). Somehow this feels just like the tip of the iceberg. We haven't even touched his baggage from his childhood days yet, only getting a glimpse of it here and there.

And with Tsukasa saying Show Must Go On---Mr. Showtime's show still doesn't end yet. He's still playing the 'reliable leader' and the 'anticipated pierrot' for everyone's sake, as can be seen in Sky's Edge too. That's why Luka's presence in this song doesn't feel like this is the end of his worries but the start of finally seeing him behind all his 'pierrot posing' and 'puppet-mastering'. And with the hints that we might get to see Tsukasa's origin in his next group event banner, I can't wait to see and hear his next commissioned song....... which will probably be a 3DMV (please be another 2DMV).

Other info that I can gather from Yama-san half-drunken (lol) ramblings about Mr. Showtime are:

The song is finished in September, and the final touches are done in November

The one who decides on who singing what part is the sound director in pjsk team with some input from the lyricist (in this case Hitoshizuku-P), not Yama-san.

Confirmed that in the original version, Len is in Tsukasa's position and vice versa.

The theme they are given are showtime, stage, and circus(?). They read the main story, HItoshizuku-san iirc read all of WxS key stories to write the lyrics. Yama-san has no particular feelings for any WxS members.

They are asked to keep the characters (esp. the one they were commissioned for) in mind when writing the lyrics.

Whether they were told about the backsides of the characters (things that aren't mentioned in event stories yet) or the content of the event story they were commissioned for is confidential.

Also, Sasakure.UK said Tsukasa's light is very bright because he overcame a deep darkness... but did he, though? Sky's Edge has him just properly faced how difficult it might be to be the star he wishes he will be. Who knows, Tsukasa might have just forgotten about the dark feelings he had like TONDEMO-WONDERZ and Dazzling Stage implied.

#proseka #project sekai #hatsune miku colorful stage #pjsekai #analysis #tsukasa tenma #tenma tsukasa #it's been so long since i write anything this long wow #and there's that little tidbit that confirm tsukasa's stance on wxs future disbandment in mr.showtime too #i agree with sasakure-san that a light is very bright because it has to shine in a very deep darkness #or something along those lines lol #the transition of colorful -> white -> dark of tsukasa's 2dmv commissioned songs is very neat #so does that mean whenever we'll get wxs!miku as the featured vs for tsukasa's com song it'll be something significant??

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sunnnfish · 8 days

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SUNNY WE HAVE A LEVEL 2000 HIRAKAGI INCIDENT GOING ON RIGHT NOW. FULL LOCKDOWN!!

OOOOHHHH MOTHER FUCK ME. GOOD MORNING MALT. I JUST WOKE UP. AND I AM GREETED WITH THIIIISSSSSSSSSS. It’s so much. It’s sooooo much. Im. Not sure how much i can articulate right now. It’s a culmination of so many things. That we’ve been sitting on for so so long. Because this godforsaken series updates so slowly. WHICH IS FINE. I love sitting on things forever until they engrave themselves into my heart. Like the way hirano just wants to make kagi happy. The way he admits he’s been trying to make himself feel the same way kagi does. The way he just wants to make kagi happy. And he is scared that all of this doesn’t make kagi happy. There’s a dissonance between what kagi tells him and what kind of face he’s actually making. He always looks so pained. Because he cant help but think about all the things he doesnt have. And it boils and burns in his blood and down his throat, swallowing every kiss his wants to give and take.

AND THEN LIKE. This theme of moving on. The way hirano thinks to himself that this situation isn’t good. He should let kagi move on. He should let himself move on. But. He doesnt want to do that. I keep thinking about how his conversation would have gone if kagi hadn’t interrupted him. Hey so like. About your confession. We’ve been trying all sorts of things and in the meantime you cant move on— and im sorry but I want to keep trying anyways. Let me keep trying. To understand you. To love you. The same way you love me.

AND THE WORST PART IS. WE’VE MADE POSTS TALKING ABOUT THESE THINGS BEFORE!!!! And thats so great because it’s like. These thoughts and actions just make sense. And it’s such good writing that we’ve been able to see it building up. Of course hirano would react that way. Of course kagi would react that way. There’s no other way this interaction could have gone. And it aligns perfectly with characterization we’ve seen up to this point. Kagi is so full of love and frankly desire that is pulls him at the seems. He’s in constant war with himself, wanting to be respectful but also wanting so much. Im not the good innocent kid you think i am, hirano-san. This is ugly. And im sorry. And hirano is also soooo full of love and just a simple desire to make kagi happy. But also a desire to completely understand him. Inspection. Im losing my thread. Where are those posts about hirano dissecting kagi. To understand is to love. To know is to love. Something like that. Anyways. I think i meant to make most of this into its own post but here we are. Peace and love on planet kagihira

#thank you malt….. for bringing this to my attention…..#hirano to kagiura #sunnfish.ask #sunnfish.kghr #hirano and kagiura #malt-rants-and-stuff

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actual-changeling · 4 months

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my mother is so stupidly good at gaslighting because 99% of the time she really just believes whatever it is. she has an entire persona that she presents to the outside and the cognitive dissonance alone would take ten therapists to figure out. she really does believe our childhood was good and that we're fine despite undeniable evidence of the complete opposite.

i'll talk to my sister like "yeah no she's still shitty and will never change" while she texts me "are u mad at me? also i know u don't feel well sometimes" like????? take one big fucking guess whose fault that is.

also where the FUCK was that "worry" last december when i visited and you didn't ask me a single question about me or my life? or, i don't know, ten years ago when i was so suicidal it's a miracle i am still alive? huh? where was that worry when you just sat back and watched the constant abuse i had to endure at the hands of your now ex-husband?

i have been living alone for two years but one text from her and i immediately feel like i am losing my mind again, that i am misremembering everything and that my grasp on reality is loose and wrong.

#alex gets personal #i am so tired of this #why does she always make me feel like everything is my fault and i am lying to myself and my therapist about what happened #why can't she just leave me alone at the very least

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gallifreyinstituteforlearning · 7 months

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Do you think Timelord-specific disabilities exist? Like Timelords who always regenerate into the same body, or something else?

Time Lord Disabilities

Absolutely. Time Lords already deal with some unique disabilities or conditions:

👽 Existing

Regenerative Dissonance: Imagine your past selves just won’t shut up. Multiple personalities from past incarnations do not shut up when you regenerate, resulting in a constant board meeting inside your head. This condition has such a severe impact on mental health that afflicted Time Lords end up committing suicide, although there is Gallifreyan technology that can help control it.

Regenerative Vulnerabilities: The few seconds in which they are regenerating are extremely vulnerable, compromising their immune systems and leaving them open to viruses, paradoxes and other forms of biodata corruption through foreign materials, resulting in severe allergies or even changing species.

DNA instability: A complete artron deficiency, AKA 'I need to constantly consume energy or else I'll wither away.' This life energy may or may not come from other people. 😵‍💫

Whoops, that regeneration went wrong: Can be sub-categorised into areas including (but not limited to) - Whoops, I only have half a new body now; - Whoops, I regenerated my body but not my brain; - Whoops, I've turned myself inside out; - Whoops, I've gone back to being a time tot; - Whoops, I've turned into a creature from Stranger Things.

Regenerative infections: Multiple regenerative illnesses exist, one of which is the Dogma Virus, which is a condition that lies dormant until a Time Lord regenerates, then turns the new incarnation into a violent, mindless being.

Dark Design: Dark Design is a rather special form of insanity reserved for Gallifreyans only. This renders the Gallifreyan unable to stop thinking; hampering their ability to sleep or take care of themselves, causing severe irritability and anger, hallucinations, and an inability to process reality. It is usually suffered by exceptionally clever Gallifreyans and results in them becoming corrupt geniuses. It is incurable, and sufferers spend their lives in Gallifreyan mental institutions (or you know, being President).

Retro-regeneration or Degeneration: Reverting to previous incarnations can happen and has its own set of potential issues. Call me crazy, but I have a feeling we may find out more about that as the weeks go by ...

+ many more besides.

💭 Speculative

Given these existing complexities and potential pitfalls, it's entirely feasible that there could be lots more Time Lord-specific disabilities. Some speculative examples might include:

Chronic Regenerative Inhibition: A condition where a Time Lord can't regenerate at all despite having all the necessary physical gear, living just one mortal life.

Regenerative Looping: A condition, as you suggested, that forces the Time Lord to continually regenerate into the same form, never moving on to a new one.

Retro-Regenerative Confusion: An inability to correctly channel past incarnations even when they are needed. Maybe this is a skill set, or a set of memories. And we're not just talking 'I can't quite remember what happened on this planet last time' to 'wait, how does walking work?'

Environmental divergence: Maybe regeneration is required in an atmosphere with no Oxygen. If the body successfully adapts to this environment, then maybe the Gallifreyan can no longer breathe Oxygen and requires exclusively space dust-9 atmospheres to live?

Chrono/psionic dementias: Maybe a Time Lord can no longer perceive time in linear order? Maybe they can no longer control their psionic abilities, hearing everyone's thoughts all the time?

These are just a few ideas - the list is potentially infinite.

Hope that helped! 😃

→🫀Gallifreyan Anatomy and Physiology Guide (WIP) →⚕️Gallifreyan Emergency Medicine/Monitoring Guides →📝Source list (WIP)

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dexysmr · 8 months

Text

dissonance [bakugou katsuki x reader]

ch. 1: intro

summary: When Jirou asks you to be her band’s lead guitarist, you have no reason to refuse. That is, until you meet the hot-tempered, foul-mouthed blond on drums.

tags: enemies to lovers, college band au, drummer! bakugou, afab reader, no fem pronouns

notes: more parts to come! i have a soft spot for my hc of bakugou as a grumpy asshole drummer

ch. 1 | ch. 2 | more to come!

In the end you have no one to blame but yourself for this mess.

Forehead pressed to the cold laminate bathroom stall door, you twist the situation this way and that in your head, but no matter how you looked at it it all came back to you saying yes. In your defense, you hadn’t known a few weeks ago that agreeing to be lead guitarist in Jirou’s band would lead to spending an unprecedented amount of time every week hiding in the bathroom.

No, not hiding. You refused to admit that you were avoiding him because of some personal weakness. It was more like taking a smoke break, except that your particular vice was muttering profanities under your breath, imagining directing them at a certain prickly blond dickhead.

“Fuck!” You thunk your head against the door for good measure, and the flimsy stall frame rattles. Shitty bathroom infrastructure was one constant you could always count on, from your dime-a-dozen high school to even as prestigious an institution as UA.

Deep breaths, in and out. You stand up straight and study the familiar graffiti etched in front of you (a rather diverse selection of genitalia), already feeling much better. You’re strong, and more importantly, you’re a better person than Bakugou Katsuki. You have to be.

Or else he wins.

-Three weeks earlier-

“Why me?”

Jirou taps a finger along the rim of her mug, watching the steam rising from her coffee with the disinterested languor of a cat. When you ask the question, though, her eyes focus on you with a startling sharpness, something like surprise in the upwards flick of her eyebrows.

“Because you can play guitar,” she intones like it’s the most obvious conclusion in the world, “and because, I dunno, you’ve been dying to start a band since we were kids?”

“I know that,” you sigh, exasperated. “I just meant, why me on lead? Kaminari’s just as good—probably better, now, ‘cause I haven’t played since we started college.”

People are only just starting to trickle into the dining hall, a sight which you’ve almost never seen since you are decidedly not a morning person. All your classes are scheduled for around noon or later, and not even Professor Aizawa’s infamous death glare could rouse you from morning brain fog. Today, Jirou had to physically drag you from bed to get you up this early. You curse her well-adjusted sleep schedule and take a gulp of your coffee as Jirou scoffs.

“Kaminari’s got worse stage fright than a kindergartener. Besides, he’s more than happy to be on rhythm guitar.”

At this, you have to agree. Last semester’s uneventful Victorian Lit seminar had culminated with final presentations. When it came to Kaminari’s turn, he had stood mutely at the front of the class and stared at his notecards with a dumbfounded expression for six whole minutes before the professor awkwardly let him sit back down. Jirou never let him live it down, and you’re not even sure how he ended up passing the class.

“I’ll only be free on weekends,” you start, and watch as Jirou’s indifferent expression shifts minutely. You can read her like a book after nearly a decade of friendship, and you know she always plays up the nonchalance the most when there’s something she really cares about.

“We were gonna do Saturday nights, anyway.”

You sigh with exaggerated reluctance, but Jirou’s already broken into a wide grin. After all, she knows you just as well as you do her. The begrudging front you put up always has a weak spot for Jirou. And that dream of starting a band really did still spark something warm and exciting in you.

“Just don’t blame me if it takes a while for me to remember all the chords,” you warn, but it’s a half-hearted jab. Your fingers are already itching to start practicing again. “And, I want a say in our band name.”

Jirou clasps your hands in hers and leans across the table, knocking her mug precariously close to the table ledge. Her eyes are wide with faux solemnity, and you’re reminded an awful lot of Midoriya. “I would never dream otherwise,” she says, and then cracks another smile. “We’re totally gonna win the school festival this year!”

It’s not until you’re getting ready to part ways—her to morning lecture, you back to bed—that you remember to ask.

“Wait, who’s on drums?”

Another thing growing up together has taught you: Jirou’s a bad fucking liar. She avoids your gaze and fumbles with her tangled earbuds, and you can’t tell if it’s anticipation or dread that settles into your stomach. “Uh, we haven’t found someone yet,” she says, ignoring your disbelieving look. “Oh, huh- class is starting soon, see ya!”

She skedaddles down the hallway and out of sight. You stare after her with half a mind to chase her down, but your lethargy wins over any curiosity and you turn back towards the dorms, intent to steal another hour or two before your first class.

You go through the rest of the week with a bad feeling about why Jirou wouldn’t tell you who the fourth member of the band was going to be. Could it be Minoru? Jirou knows you despised him—well, who doesn’t—but surely he was too short to even reach the pedals.

Come Saturday night, you are still no closer to solving the mystery. You can’t think of anyone who could both (1) be a good enough drummer and (2) have a character flaw disagreeable enough that Jirou would be reluctant to reveal their name. Maybe she had been telling the truth, and they would have to hold auditions this week. Either way, you would find out soon.

The second floor of the music department is almost empty, save for whichever diligent souls want to practice this late on the weekend. You switch your guitar to your left hand, double-checking the room number Jirou had texted you yesterday. Walking down the hall, you can already start to hear the sound of Jirou warming up on bass, along with someone practicing a rather fantastic drum solo. Your trepidation is quickly suppressed with excitement, and you push the door open, ready to meet your very own Ringo Starr…

Only to stumble back, shoulder clipping the door frame in shock. Suddenly, her reticence that morning clicks into place. There’s only one person she knows you can’t stand, although you never knew he could play drums.

Bakugou Katsuki’s gaze immediately latches onto you with a glare you can almost feel the heat of across the room. For the first time in your life, you find yourself sharing the same thought as Bakugou, although he beats you to verbalizing it.

“It’s fucking you!?”

masterlist

#bakugou x reader #bakugou katuski x reader #my hero academia #mha fanfiction #bnha #bnha fanfiction

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