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darlingdaisyfarm · 1 day ago

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₊˚ʚ Rain in the woods (Ford Pines x fem!reader) ₊˚✧ ﾟ.

part 2

author note: hey friends, so im sorry for taking so long, i wanted to post it this Saturday but i got lots of work, it's not proofread so I'm so so so sorry for any mistakes, i promise ill fix them a bit later!

also im working on some pre portal stan x reader x ford fic and it's filled with what we love the most - glass and angst (smut included!!), i know i always say it, but im so excited to share it with you guys <3

nsfw, minors dni

Stanford Pines — the enigmatic genius who’s always just beyond your reach, a mind so vast, it feels like trying to grasp the stars. You should be focused, but your gaze keeps flicking back to him. You’re utterly captivated, heart racing, mind spinning.

And then it happens. One moment, you're holding the mug, your fingers curled around it and the next it slips. No! The mug tumbles from your grasp, its ceramic form hitting the floor with a sharp, brutal crack that echoes through the room. You watch in helpless horror as it shatters into a thousand pieces, each fragment piercing the silence like a blade through your chest.

Your heart skips, thundering in your ears, and your face goes hot with embarrassment, an awful flush spreading across your skin as you turn your wide, panicked eyes toward Ford. His gaze meets yours, a mix of surprise and concern, but it’s his calm that gets you.

“Oh shit—” your voice cracks and you curse yourself silently, mortified. Of course, you would screw up right now, in front of him. Stanford fucking Pines, the man whose brilliance makes your own thoughts feel clumsy, an intellectual giant, and here you are, tripping over a damn mug. The pieces of it seem to scatter in slow motion, like a dream you can’t wake up from. You’re so stupid. You feel so stupid.

“I’m sorry— I'm so sorry,” you ramble, desperate to somehow undo the mess, your hands trembling at your sides. You want to sink into the floor, disappear, fade away. How could you be this careless?

But then Ford takes a step forward, and everything inside you freezes. His eyes are soft, so much softer than you expected, softer than anyone else’s gaze ever could be. He’s not angry, not even irritated. Instead, he’s. . . calm. “Hey, it’s alright,” he says, a chuckle escaping him, as though the whole situation is laughable, as though you’re not standing there, mortified in front of him. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve dealt with worse. Trust me.”

For one second, everything really seems to slow down as his words sinks into you like a balm. You believe him. It’s impossible to not. He’s seen everything and here you are, worrying over a broken mug.

“Im really sorry,” you stammer again, caught off guard by the softness in his tone, the tenderness in his gaze. What did you expect? That he’d scold you, dismiss you? But no. He’s calm, like this minor catastrophe is nothing. As if nothing could rattle him, as if you, standing there like a fool, didn’t matter at all.

Stanford laughs. “You know, after all I’ve been through, interdimensional beasts, curses, that damn triangle demon, a shattered mug would be nothing. So don’t apologize.” his eyes meet yours. “Im not made of glass. It takes more than a broken cup to rattle me.”

And then his voice lowers with that quiet authority. “Sit down,” he commands softly. “I’ll handle this. Don’t want you getting hurt.”

You can’t help it. His voice sounds so low, commanding, yet laced with something so tender it makes your skin tingle. The words come easy from his lips, but when they’re aimed at you, they tear through you. They make you feel like you’re something precious, something to be cared for, protected. But more than that, a part of you craves to be held by him, right now, right in this moment. To be pressed back into the cushions of the sofa, feeling the strength of his arms, making you feel like you’re the only one in his world.

You’re not just obeying his words, you’re aching to obey.

That’s why without thinking, you sink into the soft cushions. And shit, there he is — bending down, his bare chest covered with scars still glistening from the rain, droplets make you ache. They fucking shimmer on his skin, taunting you, daring you to touch him, taste him, make him yours. Every inch of him is fucking perfect. God, how are you even supposed to think straight when he looks like that? Your body is screaming for him, for his touch, for everything.

You try to look away. You can’t. His broad shoulders, his strong fucking arms, his hard chest. It’s too much. He’s a fucking masterpiece and all you want is for him to paint you in ways you can’t even process yet. Your body betrays you, again, that warmth spreading low in your belly, growing. You cross your legs, trying to hide the desperate need that’s already pooling between them. Fuck, how are you supposed to calm this down? It only gets worse.

He’s everything you’ve ever wanted and it’s all laid out in front of you, impossible to ignore. His every movement is so natural, so fucking sexy, it makes your pulse race. You just know he can make you feel things you didn’t even know your body was capable of.

You’re trying to calm yourself, really, you are.

You cross and uncross your legs again, desperate to release some of the tension building between your thighs, but it only makes it worse. Fuck, why is this so hard? Every thought you have is consumed with him, with what he could do to you, what he should do to you. And the more you try to control it, the more your body betrays you.

You need to touch yourself, but you’re stuck, just waiting, consumed by the need for him.

And then, the thoughts take over completely.

You’re delusional to the point where you feel his hands on your legs, parting them, spreading you wide. You imagine him on his knees, lowering his head, his lips tracing the inside of your thighs, so fucking gentle, so goddamn slow, as he watches you with those eyes, sharp, hungry, possessive. And then, he presses his tongue to your clit, licks you like you’re the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted, making you whine for him.

You bite down on your lip, trying to hold it back, but it’s impossible. You need him. You want him between your legs, fucking you so deep you can’t think straight, making you beg for it. Fuck, what would he say? “That’s it, baby. . . just like that… good girl, taking what I give you. . .” the words seeping into your skin like a drug you can’t quit.

You bite down hard on your lip, desperate to keep quiet, but your body is louder than you’ll ever be. Fuck, your body’s soaking through, your pussy throbbing for his touch, and all you can do is stare at him, mesmerised. His body is a goddamn work of art, and you want to trace every inch of it, feel it on top of you, pushing inside you, taking you.

It’s so fucking embarrassing, but you can’t stop it. Your body’s so ready for him, for his hands, for his cock. You can almost taste him, can almost feel his cock sliding inside you, filling you so nice.

Fuck, any writer of erotic novels would envy your imagination. The thought of him getting rough with you, pushing you down into the cushions, fucking you into the sofa until you can’t think, can’t breathe. “You’re mine now, sweetheart. Mine to fuck whenever I want. You belong to me.”

The thought of him pounding into you, his hands gripping your hips, pulling you closer, makes you want to lose your mind. You just want to hear him growl your name as he fucks you like you’re the only thing that matters.

And you know you’ll let him. Let him claim you, take you apart, until you’re nothing but a mess of pleasure, a good girl begging for more.

“Hey,” Ford’s voice drags you back into reality, unwantedly. Your heart stutters in your chest as you blink, trying to focus on anything other than the way your body’s still burning, aching for him. He’s looking at you, brows furrowed, the concern on his face so fucking intense it almost makes you want to tell him everything you’re feeling, right here, right now. But you can’t. God, you can’t. Not when the way he looks at you like that.

“Are you alright? You don’t look too well.” his voice is full of worry, but there’s that edge of guilt creeping in as he mutters, “I really should’ve checked the forecast before dragging you out in this mess. . . feels like a bit of a fool for that.” his fingers are rubbing the back of his neck in that shy way he does, that little sign of guilt that makes your stomach clench in a way that’s too much to handle.

But it’s his fucking proximity that’s driving you wild. He’s so close now, standing there shirtless, looking like some goddamn wet dream come to life. You can’t focus on anything but his body, the way the rainwater trails down his skin, glistening so beautifully. Fucking fuck.

“No, Ford, im absolutely okay, I swear—”

“Hold still,” Ford commands and that’s when you feel his hand so damn warm against your forehead, sending a shockwave of need straight through you. His touch is too fucking soft and yet it feels like it’s scorching you. Or maybe it’s just the fact that you’re so goddamn horny your body’s reacting to the smallest contact.

You try to calm yourself, try to act normal, but it’s too fucking hard. You force a weak smile. “I told you, I— I’m fine,” you answer, the lie tasting bitter on your tongue. It’s all you can do to not let the truth slip. You want to scream it, how much you need him, how much you ache for him right now, but you don’t. Not yet. Never probably.

Ford’s brows knit tighter together and his eyes lock onto yours. He’s not fooled, not for a second. “You’re lying. Don’t try to brush it off. If you’re not feeling well, you need to tell me.”

The urge to confess everything is unbearable. You want to tell him you’re not sick, you’re just fucking drenched in need, that’s all! Aching for him to pull you into his arms, to kiss you until you can’t breathe. But instead, you do the only thing you can do: you force a nervous laugh, a weak attempt to play it off.

“No, I swear I’m fine! I could go on a thousand more anomaly hunts with you!” the words spill out with a little too much enthusiasm, a little too much frenzy and you pray to whatever god is listening that it’s enough to get him off your case.

Ford’s eyes narrow and he crosses his arms, still towering over you, still so close

Man, just step back or I'll pounce on you and eat you.

“Cold rain can do a lot more damage than you think. You could’ve caught something serious, and ignoring it won’t help. Do you have any idea how quickly a fever can develop if you’re already run down?”

Oh no, his voice shifts into that familiar, lecturing tone, the kind that makes you want to both roll your eyes and lean in closer to hear more.

When he says something about cold exposure affecting the immune system, you should be paying attention. You try to focus on his words, but it’s hard when he’s standing there — half naked, with his chest on full display, his messy hair slightly wet from the rain. God, he's just so fucking handsome. The serious, worried look in his eyes makes you weak and you can’t help but sink a little deeper into the sofa.

Just as Ford’s lecture hits a peak, the door swings open with a loud bang and Stanley Pines strolls in, halting mid-step as his eyes zero in on the scene before him. Ford, half-naked, standing too close for comfort, and you, perched on the sofa with that nervous smile plastered across your face.

Stan’s grin stretches wide, clearly loving the situation as he leans casually against the doorway. His eyes flick between you and Ford, then he gives Ford an exaggerated once-over, raising an eyebrow at his lack of turtleneck. “Well, ain’t this cozy,” he drawls sarcastically, giving a smirk that only widens when he spots Ford’s obvious discomfort. “Ya know, Sixer, when I said ‘show the girl a good time,’ I didn’t mean literally strip down to do it.”

Ford’s eyes snap toward his brother, his mouth twitching in a way that’s almost a grimace. His posture straightens, arms crossing defensively as he glares at Stan. “Stanley, really? Must you always reduce everything to your level? She dropped a mug and I was helping her avoid a mess. You wouldn’t understand, but maybe try acting your age for once.”

“Hey, all I’m sayin’ is, if ya plan on gettin' cozy, maybe take it to a couch that ain’t mine.” Stanley’s gaze slides over to you, flashing a wink. “But if you’re lookin' for company, darlin’, I’m more than happy to—“

Before you can let the awkwardness spread more, you spring into the conversation, desperate to steer it somewhere less humiliating. “Stan, actually, Ford was just helping me to—” you force a friendly smile, trying to make light of the situation.

Stan laughs like he’s heard it all before. “Sure thing, toots. But between you and me. . . you’re doin’ a hell of a job of keepin’ my brother here on his toes. Haven’t seen him all riled up like this since. . . well, ever.” your heart thump so loudly in your chest, you’re sure everyone can hear it.

Ford’s jaw clenches so tight, you can practically hear his teeth grinding, but he doesn’t look away from Stan. The vein in his neck starts to twitch.God, it’s almost painful how much he wants to just end this conversation, end this moment, and pull you somewhere private, somewhere safe, where he can have you all to himself, but he doesn’t. “Stan, enough. We have an anomaly to inspect. Something I’d actually prefer not to delay any longer.”

Stan lets out a low whistle, clearly enjoying every second of Ford’s discomfort. “Yeah, yeah. Go on, Sixer, run off to your little projects. Just don’t forget there’s a real world out here, alright?” he gives you a quick nod, still smirking. “and you, don’t let him lock you in his lab too long, sweetheart.”

***

Grumpy Ford. The kind of irritated, scowling Ford you never realized you’d find so irresistibly enticing. That brooding frustration, that laser-sharp focus, you can’t help but imagine all that intensity turned on you, directed into every inch of your body.

God, if he just shoved you back onto that workbench right now, you’d let him. You wouldn’t care if his precious equipment went crashing to the floor, wouldn’t even flinch at the thought of papers and tools scattering everywhere. All you want is him, his body pinning you down, hands gripping you like you’re the anomaly he’s desperate to dissect, figure out, devour.

Holy shit, you want him to push you up against that wall, pin you down until you’re writhing underneath him, his body grinding against yours, every bit of that frustration poured right into you.

Slick heat building between your thighs as you watch him, the way he moves around his lab, muttering in frustration as he punches numbers into some device, brows knitted in that fierce focus. And all you can do is want his hands on your hips, his mouth on your neck, his cock driving into you like you’re all he’s thinking about.

“The rain seems to have masked the anomaly’s energy signature. I suspect it might be due to ionization in the— are you even listening?”

His voice snaps you back, he’s tearing right through your flimsy attempts at focus with that intense gaze of his, as if seeing everything you’re thinking. You offer him a small, sheepish smile. “Of course I am! Gravity, paranormal. . . s-signatures, right?” you say, hoping he doesn’t notice the way your eyes keep drifting over his body, your ache throbbing inside, thighs pressing together as he stands there, so close you could reach out, slip your fingers through the fabric of his clothes, feel the warmth of his skin.

Ford’s gaze follows yours, his expression changes as he considers whether to answer. “That’s a thought-reading device. Designed to access certain mental frequencies,” he explains, stepping closer to it and closer to you. “It can pick up surface thoughts. . . theoretically, anyway. I was working on it before I. . . uhm, it’s meant to strengthen and protect someone’s mental processes. Block out. . . certain entities from gaining access to their mind.”

Ford lets out a soft, exasperated sigh. “Honestly, you’re as distractible as Stan.”

He turns away, but your eyes don’t leave him. Instead, you let your gaze slide over the room, until something catches your eye. A strange, helmet-like device bristling with wires and so, without thinking, you ask, “Hey, what’s that thing?”

A mind-protective device. Of course, he’d build something like that. It’s so him, his beautiful mix of intellect, caution, that underlying fear of what he’s seen, what he’s had to fight.

“So, it could let me peek into that brilliant mind of yours?” it’s a playful a tease, mostly. But inside you just ache to know, to wonder, to feel his thoughts. Would he think about you. even once, in the same filthy, breathless way you think about him?

Stanford grins. “In theory, yes, but it’s hardly necessary. My mind is. . . complex, too complicated for most people to understand."

And then, suddenly, unexpectedly, Ford lifts the machine, his grin is bigger. “Why don’t you try it on?”

Your heart slams against your chest and panic sears through you, cutting under your carefully held composure. Oh god. No. No, no, no. Every filthy thought, every desperate image of him, of those long, deft fingers tracing down your skin, of his mouth, his hands, of him pinning you down and splitting you open on his cock, of moaning his name until you can’t breathe. All of it, laid bare, displayed for him to see?

You choke down the crazy urge to run, instead forcing yourself to laugh. “Why, Professor Pines, are you doubting my integrity?” you counter, flashing him a daring smirk, praying it’s enough to distract him from the heat that’s burning its way up your cheeks.

Ford chuckles in response. “Integrity?” he repeats, his tone mocking. “No. But curiosity? Oh, absolutely. I think it would be enlightening to see what actually goes on behind that amused little expression of yours.”

“There’s nothing interesting in my mind,” but your words barely sound convincing to you, let alone to him.

Ford tilts his head, arching his brow in that all-too-familiar, skeptical way that makes you want to simultaneously squirm and melt. “Oh really? You know, most people would be thrilled to test out new technology. But you. . . you’re avoiding it like it’s some kind of torture device.”

“Oh, yeah, you know,” a poor attempt at casual. “I just. . . don’t wanna risk, you know, brain cells or something.” you resist the urge to roll your eyes. God, please just buy it. . .

Ford’s laughter rumbles and by the look on his face, you know he doesn’t quite believe you. But, mercifully, he lets it slide. “Alright, alright,” he relents. “I’ll spare you. This time.”

***

The rest of the evening is a haze of Ford’s intense meticulous rambling as you both sit tucked away in the quiet of his lab, soft lamp light casting warm shadows that stretch over the various gadgets, books, and uncharted maps sprawled out on every available surface, his domain, the world he’s always losing himself in.

He’s explaining again, his words so precise about the anomaly you saw earlier today. His voice rises with each detail, the way the rain altered it, how it vanished before either of you could even think to grab it. You should be focused, but his beautiful voice turns into a lullaby. Your eyelids grow heavy, your body sinking deeper into the chair.

And Ford notices.

The way your head tilts too far, your eyes fluttering closed just a little too long. He’s not as lost in his thoughts as he likes to think. His gaze sharpens, flicking to you with that careful, assessing precision he’s always had. He sees that quiet exhaustion in the way your posture slumps, the way your breath catches unevenly as your body fights against the pull of sleep.

His voice softens. “You’re exhausted,” he murmurs. “Of course you are. . . It’s too late. Go, get some rest. This. . . all of this will still be here tomorrow.”

A sigh tries to escape your chest before you can stop it. You want to protest, to stay longer, to pass just little bit more time with him. But the way he looks at you makes the words die before they can leave your lips. There's something unspoken in his eyes, a quiet concern mixed with that stubborn, unyielding sense of responsibility.

You try to stifle a yawn, your hand reaches out, fingers brushing the fabric of his sleeve, as if the touch might change his mind. “Maybe. . . maybe just a bit longer?” however even your own voice sounds tired.

His answer is gentle but final. “No. You need to sleep. I’ll be here, as always.”

You don’t argue. When you step away, you catch one last glimpse of him, standing amidst the piles of notebooks, the soft light casting shadows along the lines of his face, catching the silver in his hair in a way that’s so painfully beautiful so you let yourself stay a little longer before you close the door.

***

The silence that reigns in the room after you leave feels like a huge, endless void that stretches to all corners of the laboratory and suffocates in its stillness. Ford exhales slowly, a sigh caught between frustration and something deeper he can’t quite name. His gaze lingers on the door, where you disappeared through just moments ago, soft sound of your footsteps still echoing in his mind. God, he’s such a fool, he thinks, fingers pressing to the bridge of his nose, rubbing at the ache that’s been building inside him ever since you spoke those soft words, just a little longer.

He couldn’t stop it, couldn’t ignore it. The way you leaned in, hanging onto his every word, as if he were something more than he really was, something beyond the man who hides behind his work, behind his mind. The weight of your trust presses on him and with it comes the unbearable pressure of knowing he doesn’t deserve it.

And God, he tries to keep himself restrained. He tells himself that this is madness, that you’re too young, that every second he spends watching you, wanting you, is a betrayal of everything he’s tried to build.

But you’re gone now and his lab feels emptier than ever. Even as he reaches for his journal, his thoughts are still tangled with you, with the way you looked at him, the way your sleepy eyes followed his every move, the way you seemed to hang on to every word, every breath he took. Did you even realise what you were doing to him?

And as he opens his journal, he knows there will be no more notes on anomalies tonight. No theories, nothing but the restless, fevered words he can never, ever say aloud. Ford knows that if these thoughts ever slipped past his lips, they’d destroy you. You’d never look at him the same again. And he can’t lose you. He couldn’t bear to watch that disgust fill your eyes, that revulsion as you saw him for what he truly is: a man with a heart full of shame, but aching for you all the same.

He writes with a fever, the words coming too quickly for him to even think them through. He’s confessing things he’ll never have the courage to say to you. The way you make him ache, how wrong it feels, how unnatural it is to want you this way. You’re so young, so vibrant, so full of life. How could someone like him, an old man, a man of logic and reason, ever think he could want someone like you?

And yet, it’s all he can think about. It’s all he does think about.

God help him, he wants you.

Stanford’s hand trembles as he writes fast.

“The way she seems to lean closer with every word I speak, as if I’m some kind of god to her. I can’t breathe when she’s near, but I can’t stand being away from her either.”

He’s sickened by it, disgusted by the way his hands ache for you, by how his thoughts run into places he can’t control. But even so, he thinks, I can’t stop. I can’t stop wanting you.

“If only she knew what I was dreaming about, how I want to erase all layers of distance between us. I want to melt into her, touch every inch of her skin, as if she was made to belong to me, only to me.“

Ford can’t let you know how deeply he feels, how far he’s fallen for someone like you, someone so out of reach, someone who might never look at him the way he looks at you. Because if he did, if he let those words slip from his lips it would ruin you. It would break you.

And he can’t do that.

Not to you.

So, he writes. He writes because it’s the only way he can make sense of the mess inside of him. The only way he can be close to you without breaking everything.

“God, if she knew, she'd never see me as anything but the perverted old man I am.”

“God help me. . . I want her breathless. I want her shaking, clinging to me as I bury myself inside her, feeling every inch of her wrap around me like she was made for this. I want her to be mine. The years between us be damned—”

One sentence, scribbled with shaking hands: “if she knew how much I want to make her come on my cock while explaining the fundamental laws of interdimensional, she’d never look at me same way again”

“I want her shaking, spent, marked by me, by the man twice her age who should know better but can’t help himself.”

“I picture teaching her how to harness interdimensional energy, but my mind twists it, images shifting until it’s my body pressed to hers, whispering “concentrate sweetheart,” while I trust into her from behind. Her breath would stutter as I correct her technique with my hands on her hips.”

“I shouldnt crave her, not with the years that separates us like an unyielding chasm. Yet when she laughs, carefree and obvious, I imagine making her cry my name, hands guiding her hips as I thrust inside up into her, showing her exactly what an older man can do. Showing her why age doesn’t matter when she’s trembling and breathless beneath me.”

“She's got no idea, does she? I want her bent over my desk, books and notes scattered beneath her, while I thrust into her like some animal in heat, filling her over and over until there's nothing left of her but soft, pleading sounds and the way her body pulls me back in with every move. I’d guide her, make her feel exactly what it means to be touched by a man who’s twice her age and twice as obsessed.”

Meanwhile, now, alone in your room, you’re haunted by the memory of your lovely scientist, pulsing between your legs, leaving a needy ache that’s impossible to ignore. Just thinking about him, the strong lines of his hands, those six fingers that could make you see stars. . . it all sends a jolt straight through your body and suddenly, you’re melting, undone, utterly helpless to this craving for him.

You let yourself fall back into your bed, eyes closed, his presence wrapping around you like a ghost you can’t shake off. You can’t even catch a steady breath now, the dampness pooling between your thighs, every inch of you begging to be touched — not by yourself, no. You need him, his skilled, explorative touch, those six clever fingers. The memory of every stolen glance, every careful brush of his hand, it all coils up inside, a slow, delicious torment, and now it’s throbbing there, heavy with need.

You drag your fingers down the length of your body, tracing where his hands might go as you imagine him, his fingers slipping lower, finding that sweet, drenched ache and grazing it with a delicate touch that he’d know so damn well. 'Fuck,' you’d gasp, his name like a prayer on your lips as his six fingers roam, rough and relentless, pressing right against that needy opening, filling you up until you’re nothing but breathless whimpers and cries for more.

“God, sweetheart,” you hear his voice, “I’ve wanted this for so damn long. Do you feel that? How hard you make me?” and then he’d press his cock between your legs, hot veins throbbing against your entrance, and you can feel his breath on your neck as he tells you what a beautiful mess you’ve become for him.

Your fingertips brush over your clit as you imagine his hand there, gentle but insistent, exploring you with that scientist's curiosity, his six fingers pressing slow, circling that sensitive bud, coaxing soft gasps from your lips. “Let me feel you. Take it slow, sweetheart. Let me make you mine.” but even as you touch yourself now, imagining his fingers in place of yours, it’s still not enough

You arch from own hand, fingers gliding through the wetness now slick and ready, you press a little harder on your clit, circling it faster, imagining the way his hands would dig into your skin, his strong arms wrapped around you as he thrusts into you, “take it all, darling. Every inch of me.”

And by some lucky chance, Ford stands outside your door, his pulse slamming hard against his ribs, a wreck of a man just clinging to sanity. The sound of you — all gasping, breathy moans slipping through the thin wood, whispering his name in that desperate little voice — he can’t help himself as his hand flies up to the doorframe, his fingers digging in so hard they’re going white, knuckles taut, trying to keep himself together.

But the universe is laughing at him, at his pathetic attempt at control, at the sheer uselessness of his restraint, because fuck, every gasp you make sinks its teeth into him.

Something hot runs through him, then it sinks low, thickening in his chest, then spreads down between his legs. His cock twitches, rock-hard and aching, straining against the fabric, pressing hard, begging for the attention he keeps denying it. He shouldn’t be here — hell, he should be miles away by now, somewhere that isn’t two inches from falling apart at the sound of you! But he’s not. He’s a goddamn mess, held hostage to the way you’re sighing his name.

“Fuck, sweetheart. . .” he’s going insane out here.

Ford knows how you look right now, imagined it thousands of times, laid out on your bed with those soft thighs parted, hands trailing down, fingertips grazing over warm, damp skin, teasing yourself open, getting yourself wet just for him. Fuck, he thinks, I shouldn’t be this fucking desperate.

Ford lets his hand slip down, pressing hard against the hardness straining in his trousers, feeling himself throb against his own palm. There’s no relief, just that painful, growing ache that has him grinding his teeth, biting back the low, broken sound that wants to rip free from his throat. He’s a man undone, ruined just by the thought of you, the image of you with your legs open, your body calling out for him like he’s the only one you need.

“Jesus, fuck. . .” his free hand reaches down, trembling as he slides it beneath his waistband, wrapping around the throbbing heat of his cock, feeling himself swell, hard and pulsing against his palm. It’s wrong, so wrong to be here, touching himself to the sound of your little whimpers, but fuck if he can stop.

The sounds coming from your room grow louder and it’s too much for him. He’s already so fucking close as he imagines himself on top of you, sinking inside you, feeling your cunt wrapped tight and hot around him, your body arching, your hands clawing at his back, those delicate fingers pulling him close, begging him not to stop.

Ford’s back collides with the lab door as he stumbles in, chest heaving, adrenaline of hearing his name on your lips. He locks the door behind him.

Fumbling hands tug at his belt, fingers clumsy, impatient, tearing at the fabric as it’s the only thing standing between him and relief. Finally, the belt slides free, and he wraps a shaky hand around his cock, swallowing down a low hiss as the raw heat of his own skin meets his grip.

He strokes himself roughly and desperately, letting his thumb graze the sensitive tip with a ragged groan that he’s helpless to contain. His mind runs further, and he pictures you, perfect and pliant, sinking to your knees before him with eyes so innocent, with lips parting as you take him into your mouth. As you let him fuck your throat.

A shiver runs through him and he leans his head back, sighing, groaning and grunting louder as he loses himself in the fantasy. God, if you only knew. If you could see him like that, a desperate moaning and trembling mess with his hand wrapped around his leaking cock.

“Ahh— ffuck,” hell, just how much he wants to hear you make those sounds too, moan for him, he wants to feel you beneath him, warm and soft, clinging to him, legs tangled around his waist as he sinks into you. His strokes become faster. Ford imagines pressing you down onto the lab table, your dripping pussy welcoming him as he thrusts deeper, deeper, deeper, deeper until there’s no part of you he hasn’t claimed. His breath hitches, hips bucking into his hand as he imagines the way your walls would tighten around him, clenching, pulling him in.

He’s shaking now, barely able to hold himself together, his free hand clutches at the edge of the workbench, knuckles white, as he lets himself sink fully into the fantasy. You’d look so damn perfect spread out for him. Ford’s hand moves faster, tighter, fueled by the image of you writhing beneath him, helpless, pleading, so sweet and open, absolutely his, his beautiful girl, sweetest thing.

The pressure building until he can’t take it anymore. His hips jerk, a loud needy moan spilling from his lips as he cums, his body shuddering with release. For a few long, breathless seconds, everything fades: his mind, his shame, everything but the overwhelming, blinding wave of pleasure.

***

The morning breaks, a new day arriving, one that promises to be spent with Ford close by— and, isn’t that something to look forward to?

When you meet Stanford, the first thing you hear is, “Did you not learn anything from last time?“

You bite your lip to keep from laughing, but before you can protest, Ford is stepping closer, his coat swishing around him as he moves. The wool of his scarf unravels with practiced ease, and in a smooth motion, it’s over your shoulders, the warmth of it spreads around your neck. You want to say something, but all you can focus on is the way Ford’s thumb traces the edge of the scarf, his touch so delicate it feels too intimate for something so simple.

This shouldn’t feel like it does, you think, but your body screaming what your mind refuses to admit.

“There,” Ford says, stepping back. “You’ll thank me later.”

“I thought you checked the forecast this time,” you tease, raising an eyebrow. “Isn’t today supposed to be sunny?”

Ford crosses his arms with a smile. “Yes, well. . . One can never be too cautious. After all, last time—“

“—last time, I nearly froze my ass off,” you finish, the laughter bubbling up between you and Ford shoots you a look that’s equal parts exasperated and fond, like he’s about to scold you but can’t help himself.

“I wasn’t going to put it quite so crudely,” he says, but that reluctant chuckle escapes him before he can hide it.

When the sun climbs higher, the forest around you changes in hues of gold, the leaves thinning just enough to let the light filter through in soft rays. You walk side by side, close enough to hear the rhythmic crunch of your footsteps in the fallen leaves and Ford’s murmured observations, but it’s all you can do not to lose yourself in him. His words float past, about terrain, weather, anomalies and predictions, but your mind doesn’t follow, not when your eyes keep straying to him.

You can’t help but wonder if there’s any room left for you in his head, if he ever thinks about anything other than those damned anomalies. A piece of you wants to shake him, to pull him from his thoughts, to remind him that life is more than equations and mathematics. But, god, there’s something so cute about him when he’s like this, so fully consumed by his world, and you can’t look away.

“You’re thinking about something,” Stanford starts, pulling you out of your trance. “Is it the anomaly, or. . .?”

“Just wondering what it is we’re actually tracking. I mean, last time it disappeared before we could even get a good look, so. . . what’s the plan if it shows up again?”

Ford’s face lights up with approval at your question. “It’s an elusive creature, no doubt,” and again, his voice slips into that familiar lecture tone, one you’ve learned to love despite yourself. “But this time, I have a better understanding of its behaviour. The rain threw it off last time, but if my theory is correct, today’s dry weather should keep it on course! And if we can corner it near the ravine, there’s a chance we might get a clear reading on its—”

“Ford,” you interrupt, he stops talking, his brow lifting slightly. “I mean, yes— corner it near the ravine,” you repeat. Wait, what did you just say?

“Are you sure you’re up for this?” Ford asks, smiling at you. “If you’re still tired from yesterday, I can handle this on my own.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes, crossing your arms as you look at him defiantly. "Oh, please. I said I could do this a thousand times over with you and still keep up,” you challenge.

He laughs again and his laughter is so damn cute. “That, I don’t doubt.”

Time pass and as you walk beside Ford, your mind drifts, you're not really thinking about the anomaly or the hunt anymore. No, your thoughts are elsewhere. Again. Somewhere they shouldn’t be, but there they are. You can’t help but notice the way the sun highlights the strands of silver in Ford's hair, the curve of his shoulders as he walks, his posture so effortlessly confident and strong. And you think about how much you liked the way his body looked in the rain yesterday, when the wetness clung to his clothes and made every line stand out even more.

You sigh inwardly, watching him from the corner of your eye. The weather, as perfect as it is, only makes you feel a bit wistful. Why did it have to be sunny today? You had been hoping for more rain. The kind of rain that soaked him through and made his clothes cling to his skin, the droplets tracing the curves of his chest. That was a sight you’d never forget. But today sun is too bright, too cheerful.

The soft breeze brushes your hair against your face, and you snap out of your thoughts just as you see the clearing ahead. Ford slows his pace, his gaze scanning the area with his usual calculated precision. And just as yesterday, air here feels different, as if charged. You feel the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, the unease settling in. This is it, the spot where the anomaly was last seen. But, of course, there's nothing. The clearing is quiet, calm, completely empty.

Ford steps forward, looking around with a frown, muttering something under his breath. You stand there for a moment, waiting, listening to the wind rustle through the branches and the distant call of a bird. But there's nothing.

“Where is it?” you ask and Ford turns to you, his expression calm but with that familiar hint of worry in his eyes, the kind that usually only surfaces when he’s feeling frustrated.

“Don’t worry,” he says, though his voice sounds more like he’s trying to reassure himself than you. He straightens up, adjusting his glasses. “The anomaly will show itself. We’ve got all day to catch it.” he sighs, rubbing the back of his neck.

All day with Ford?

Your heart skips a beat and you have to fight to keep your expression neutral. What could be better than spending the entire day with him, just the two of you in this quiet, secluded place? No distractions, just you and Ford, and the anomaly that might never show up.

It takes a little more time while you and Ford are waiting for the anomaly to appear and so, a dialogue ensues.

“I’ve seen some more strange things. In all my years of research, there have been anomalies of all shapes and sizes. Creatures from dimensions we can’t even begin to understand. Some are harmless, just curious things that wander around, never meaning to cause harm. Others. . . Others are far more dangerous. I've seen creatures that could tear through steel without breaking a sweat. Their behavior is— well, unpredictable.”

“What about the really dangerous ones?”

“There's one anomaly, one creature that I’ve encountered that still haunts me, to this day.” he looks away for a moment, as if weighing the decision to tell you more. “a beast unlike any other. Its skin is like iron, nearly impenetrable. And its mind is relentless. It doesn’t think like us. It doesn’t have the ability to reason, only the ability to kill and survive.”

Wow, you already can see it in your mind — a massive, hulking creature, covered in jagged, metallic plates, its eyes wild with an animalistic hunger.

“And you’ve seen it?”

Ford nods slowly. “Yes, once. And it wasn’t an experience I care to repeat.” and then he calls you by your name. “Listen, if we encounter anything dangerous, you stay behind me. Don’t try to be a hero, don’t try to ‘help out.’ I’ve trained for this. I know these creatures; I know their instincts and behaviours. You. . . you don’t. It’s crucial that you follow my lead.”

“I’m not helpless, you know,” you mumble, folding your arms. “I can handle myself.”

But Ford only smirks, oh how cute you are. “And if you ever find yourself lost between dimensions, the key is to stay calm. Panicking is a surefire way to make yourself vulnerable. Reality in those places doesn’t play by the same rules. Your mind can trick you, distort what you’re seeing”

You stare at him, a mixture of awe and confusion washing over you. “Well, thanks, Ford, for the guide on how to travel through dimensions and fight the monsters that live in them.”

“Years of experience. Sometimes the hard way. But you don’t need to worry about that, alright? Just stick close, keep your wits about you, and we’ll make it out just fine.” he smiles.

“Easy for you to say,” you mutter, your gaze dropping to the forest floor. “You’re. . . you’re Stanford Pines. You’re used to dealing with this kind of thing. Me? I’d probably end up wandering off into some other dimension if I so much as blink wrong.”

He chuckles softly, and you feel his hand gently rest on your shoulder. “That’s why I’m here. To make sure you don’t.”

You open your mouth to respond, but then— crack. A twig snaps somewhere in the trees to your left. The sound is sharp, distinct, echoing through the quiet forest.

Your heart skips a beat and you instinctively grip Ford’s arm, eyes widening. He tenses, immediately going on alert as his gaze darts toward the source of the noise. “Stay behind me.”

You swallow, nodding as you press yourself close to him. Ford moves slowly, keeping himself between you and the sound, his shoulders squared, every muscle tense and ready.

Another rustle, this time from the other side. You bite your lip, feeling the cold prickling sensation of fear clawing up your spine. This doesn’t sound like a bunny, not in the slightest.

The sounds grow louder, surrounding you both. Ford’s posture tightens, his gaze focused and determined, while you hover close behind him, whatever lurks in the shadows isn’t friendly, and Ford, as always, stands ready to protect you at any cost.

Suddenly, Ford raises a hand, signaling for you to stay still. One. . . two. . . three—

A small, furry creature darts out of the bushes, a pudgy raccoon, more plump and inquisitive than fearsome. It scampers out, blinking innocently at you both and you feel sigh with a relief.

You slip out from behind Ford, who’s still standing rigidly, eyeing the raccoon with disbelief. “Well, would you look at that,” you say, glancing up at him with a slight grin. “Our terrifying forest intruder was just looking for a snack, huh?”

“Don’t get too close,” Stanford warns, still frowning. “These things are rarely alone.”

You laugh softly, crouching down and letting the raccoon sniff at your hand. “Oh, come on, Ford. You really think this little guy is hiding—”

The words die in your throat as you catch the look on his face, his eyes wide with sudden horror, mouth open as he shouts, “behind you!” and you whip around just in time to see something that makes your heart freeze, a hulking mass with matted fur and claws like daggers, looming in the shadows. Its eyes flash like yellow lanterns and a rank smell hits you, earthy and rotten all at once. You barely manage a step back before it lets out a furious roar, its maw wide enough to fit a head and then some. The sound is so loud it rattles through you and a splatter of spit flies from its jaws, landing on your clothes. You go stock-still.

“Th-that’s. . .” you stammer, but Ford’s voice interrupts you, calm and steady despite the chaos.

“Stay calm. It’s eyesight’s weak, but sound-sensitive. Just— slowly step back.”

You barely have time to take in his words before the beast’s head snaps toward you again, snarling with an intensity that shakes the trees. Immediately, Ford pulls out his gun, aiming directly at the creature, he fires off a round that echoes through the forest, hitting the beast and it lets out a howl of pain that sends birds scattering from the treetops. But it’s still very much alive, and now it looks angry, furiously angry. The monster's gaze is fixed on Ford with a vengeful glare, and he rushes towards him with a blood-curdling growl.

Ford stands firm, taking careful aim as he readies to fire again. But just as he steadies his grip, a branch underfoot shifts, making him stumble. The gun slips from his hand, landing somewhere in the tangle of roots and leaves and suddenly, he’s weaponless, the monster mere feet away.

Panic flares in your chest as you see the creature, claws poised, ready to strike. Ford scrambles back, but it’s too close, and something snaps inside you. Without thinking, you dart forward, adrenaline flooding through you and you grab a thick branch from the ground. With a yell that’s as much out of fear as it is determination, you swing it at the creature with everything you have, landing a blow that momentarily distracts it from Ford.

But that monster retaliates, slashing out in a blind fury and suddenly you feel the sting of claws raking across your leg. Pain flares sharp and hot, but you grit your teeth, ignoring it, keeping yourself steady enough to stay upright.

Ford seizes the moment, his eyes flashing with a mix of fury and fear as he snatches his gun from the ground, turning back to the creature. His voice is hoarse but resolute, “what are you doing?” he shouts irritably, calling your name again. “I told you to listen to me!”

With a final, controlled shot, he fires, the bullet hitting its mark. The monster lets out an agonized cry, staggering back before it turns and lumbers off into the dense woods, its snarl fading into the distance.

The adrenaline ebbs, leaving you and Ford alone in the sudden silence. His gaze finds yours, mad and worried all at once, his hand reaching out to steady you as your breathing finally starts to slow.

Ford’s face twists with frustration, jaw clenched tight and when he speaks, his voice is seething with barely controlled anger. “What the hell were you thinking?” he snaps. “You could’ve gotten yourself killed, charging in like that! I told you to stay back!”

You swallow, feeling a flush creep up your cheeks, not out of embarrassment or fear, but because, god, he’s hot when he’s angry, with that fire in his eyes and his tone like a damn storm. You force yourself to stay upright, despite the dull ache pulsing in your leg. “Ford, it’s fine. I just wanted to—”

But he’s already looking at you, really looking, his gaze flicking from your face to the way you’re leaning on your uninjured leg. “You’re hurt,” his tone dips from anger to something softer and worried. “Damn it, I should’ve never brought you out here. I’m such an idiot—“

“No, Ford, it’s just a little—” you try to brush him off, waving your hand dismissively, but as you shift your weight, a sharp bolt of pain shoots through your leg. You bite back a wince, forcing a smile. “Just a scratch, really.”

“Don’t even think about hiding this from me,” Ford turns annoyed and dead serious again, he steps closer as he assesses you, and there’s something really fierce in the way he insists, “Let me take a look. Now.”

For a moment, you think about arguing. But the pain flares again and you realise there's no winning against that look in his eyes. With a sigh, you give in, nodding reluctantly as you show him your new wound, from where the blood has already soaked into the fabric, turning it dark red.

Ford’s face changes instantly. “Damn it,” his hand hovers uncertainly like he wants to reach out, to touch, but doesn’t quite know where to begin. “This is— this isn’t just a scratch.”

His fingers finally settle gently around your calf, supporting you, his touch unexpectedly gentle as he examines the wound. You can feel his pulse under his fingertips, it’s obvious he’s anxious, and for a second, he doesn’t look like the Ford who always has the answers.

“This was my fault, I shouldn’t have— damn it, I should’ve kept you safe.”

***

The journey back to the shack feels agonizingly silent. Ford has one arm around your waist, nearly carrying you as you limp along, every step makes the wound throb in your leg. The sting, the ache, it’s all mingling with a sick sense of regret. You feel it settling in your chest. The whole day had been a disaster. You both went out to catch that anomaly, that one lead he was so excited about. . . and instead, you ended up facing something brutal. The monster had nearly killed you both.

Ford hasn’t spoken a word since the forest and with each passing second, it gnaws at you more. The thought appears in your mind, he must regret it. Bringing you along, letting you be there, yeah. . . he’s mad and not in the way you find hot. He’s distant, still supporting you, guiding you with a firm hand, but it’s as though he’s somewhere else entirely.

When you finally make it to the Shack, you find it blessedly empty. No Stan’s loud jokes or questions to break the heavy silence between you. Ford helps you to walk, still wordless and the whole way, you’re trying to find something to say. Some excuse, some apology, but every time you look over at him, you just see that grim look and you stop yourself.

Inside, he lets you sit on the couch. You clear your throat, forcing yourself to speak, to try to lift that heavy cloud around you. “Ford, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for things to go that way. I didn’t mean to—”

But Ford cuts you off. “No, don’t apologize. It’s my fault. I should never have let you come along, I put you in danger.”

That serious tone. . . You nod, saying nothing more and after a beat of silence, you get up slowly, mumbling something about heading to your room. Ford doesn’t stop you, and he watches you go, still worried as fuck, but he doesn’t say anything. He’s rooted there, expression tight as he watches you limp down the hall.

When you get to your room, you close the door softly behind you, but the pain in your leg has started pulsing heavier, sharper, demanding your attention. You look down and finally decide, you’re going to check it, even if just to prove to yourself that Ford’s look wasn’t warranted, that maybe you’re not as bad as he seemed to think.

You settle on the edge of your bed, carefully and slowly taking your pants off, but as you pull the fabric, the sight that greets you isn’t reassuring in the slightest. The cut on your thigh is deep, seeping a fresh, dark line of blood that’s begun to smear against your skin. “Fuck. . .” you curse, tilting your head to get a better look, your fingers hovering over the edges of the wound. Just as you’re mentally preparing to find the first aid kit, a familiar voice cuts through the silence.

“No, please, just— let me help still. I won’t be calm until I—”

In the midst of your concentration, you hear the faintest creak of the door, and before you can even react, it opens.

You barely have a moment to react, still sitting on the edge of your bed, the bloody gash on full display as Ford steps inside, eyes widening as he looks at you. He freezes and for a moment, you both just stare at each other in silence. You’re sitting there in your panties and a t-shirt, and you don’t know if to be happy or not, realising how exposed you must look. Ford’s gaze flickers to your bare legs, to the wound on your inner thigh.

You cross your legs in shock and embarrassment. “Ford, what—” you start, but he quickly raises a hand, cutting you off.

“Sorry, sorry, I didn’t mean to—“ Ford approaches, he kneels beside the bed, looking up into your eyes. “I— I can’t just leave you like this,” he pleads. “Please. . . let me help.”

“Ford—“

Ford’s hands hover over your leg. “You need to stop the bleeding, disinfect it, make sure it doesn’t get infected. It’s going to hurt, but, I can help. I’ll be gentle. Just let me. . . please.”

His eyes search yours, a quiet desperation in them that seems to say more than just his words ever could. Ford may be brilliant when it comes to the unknown, but in moments like this, when it’s you that’s hurt, he’s lost, even if he tries to sounds smart. He doesn’t want to mess this up, doesn’t want to fail you.

Slowly, you nod, the vulnerability in his gaze too much for you to ignore.

“Alright,” you whisper. “but be careful, okay?”

#gravity falls x reader #gravity falls x you #x reader #gravity falls #gravity falls smut #ford pines x reader #stanford pines #ford pines smut #ford x reader #ford pines x you #stanford pines x you #stanford pines x reader #gravity falls stanford #smut #gravity falls fanfic #ford pines x oc

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nam-the-nacho · 2 days ago

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Mit2uba's Trauma: An Analogy

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Tw: I will be discussing the abuse Mitsuba has suffered from his environment, nothing that isn't in the manga, but I want to give a heads up. Additionally, I'm fortunate to have not gone though any severe traumatic experience myself, and am instead using my general knowledge, meaning if anything is incorrect here, please point it out!

(Also manga spoilers obviously)

I'm not pretending this hasn't ever been discussed, however I have yet to see an analogy of the consequences of Mitsuba's creation and (practically nonexistent) upbringing.

I'm going to divide this post into sections, but they won't really be organized, maybe chapters is a better definition. This thing is l o n g, so without further ado:

1: Mitsuba being paralleled to a puppet:

This is done quite often, although not in the same ways. Besides the psychological aspects of being Tsukasa's "puppet", as in being forced to do as he says and overall being under his control, but there are physical correlations too.

Tsukasa referring to Mitsuba as a "Thing"

Mitsuba lets Tsukasa hold him. This is much more then a surface-level fact considering Mitsuba usually rejects contact/uses it as an excuse to blame others. This is easily explained by "Mitsuba is simply scared of Tsukasa, he can't tell him no", except Mitsuba doesn't look scared when being held, he just looks, expressionless.

More then that, he completely trusts Tsukasa with his body weight, leaning into his touch and allowing himself to be comforted by it. This obviously occasionally backfires horribly

While Mitsuba being punched is framed in a humorous manner, the implications and weight of it are very heavy. It's all fun and games until you remember this is how Mitsuba is being raised, and it's all he's ever known. If Mitsuba doesn't want to do what Tsukasa tells him too, he gets punched. If he talks back, he gets kicked out of the broadcasting room (we'll get back to this later). If he asks to be Tsukasa's friend, he gets fireworks shoved down his mouth.

And the results of this... well:

This one in particular is interesting to me:

"It's just Mitsuba being surprised because Kou suddenly raised his voice". But that's not what's being illustrated. Upon hearing "brace yourself" even from someone like Kou, who wasn't planning on actively trying to hurt Mitsuba, he literally stiffens, pales, and begins to tremble and sweat, dropping the piece of chalk he was holding (those things break way to easily, yk he was serious). It's not shock or surprise being drawn, it's just genuine fear.

This could very well be me overthinking, but Mitsuba falls in what is almost a doll-like manner, arms and legs completely stiff.

2: Social rejection and trivial treatment:

The Mitsuba chapter (ch. 40) was worse then I remembered.

Mitsuba runs away from the broadcasting room in search of a better, safer place to stay. Only to understand he has none.

What's worse is that these are the characters we see being far kinder to the rest of the cast. We see Yako, Hanako and weirdo super-natural teacher together in his living quarters, watching tv together, but when Mitsuba approaches them...

(Tsuchigomori eventually does stay with him, but his opinion of him doesn't really change.)

"This guy's a pain, I'm out of here"

Tsuchigomori doesn't know Mitsuba, the only time we see them meet was when Tsuchigomori refers to him as emergency rations (above), and when he answered Mitsuba who asked him a question (answer starting with "You seriously don't know?" (YES SIR HOW WOULD HE KNOW HE'S LIKE ONE MONTH OLD)).

He probably heard he's a prankster from Hanako, which is why he wants nothing to do with him.

The point is despite Mitsuba needing to run from the closest thing he considers a "home", not a single supernatural actually understands his situation. Hanako borderline hates him, Nene barley understands he's a different Mitsuba, and Kou tends to accidently frame it as Mitsuba's CHOICE to stay with Tsukasa in the broadcasting room.

This is sadly something that can happen in reality, children trying to escape their less-desirable homes can often find themselves, sickeningly, returning after not finding somewhere or someone to take them seriously.

The most deranged part of this is that as a result of nobody properly digesting that he needs help, Mitsuba himself frequently convinces himself that everything is normal.

The implication that every time Mitsuba fights with Tsukasa he needs to just fend for himself until enough time has passed for Tsukasa to forget is sad. He's an outcast between the wonders for replacing the old No.3, despite his only other choice being death, which they don't know.

Sakura is probably the closest thing Mitsuba has to family, being in a similar situation to him, but it's incorrect to say she truly deeply cares about him. She's fond of Mitsuba, but never goes out of her way to help him when Tsukasa hurts him, and seems to have put her personal safety and goals as a higher priority then him (this isn't Sakura slander, I love my queen).

Natsuhiko treats him like a pet more then a human, and sometimes hits on him, which is just gross. Despite this Mitsuba genuinely appreciates him and sees him as an older brother. It's cruel to see this one-sided ordeal.

We don't actually know Mitsuba's true opinion of Tsukasa. In an almost realistic manner, his opinion is constantly contradictory. Mitsuba is scared of Tsukasa, but at the same time he only feels 'safe' when he's around.

Also, contrary to Sousuke, Mitsuba is more scared of Tsukasa then thunder, which could either mean that Sousuke's phobia of thunder was memory-correlated, or that Mitsuba is SO scared of Tsukasa that thunder is nothing in comparison.

Mitsuba freezing after hearing Tsukasa's voice

vs:

We know Mitsuba is aware that Tsukasa is not treating him okay, but by the time we learn this (pp arc), Mitsuba has half convinced himself that Tsukasa is doing everything he's doing to help him, and that "nobody else can help him anyways". Genuinely Mitsuba is one of the most subtle-yet-obvious victims portrayed in media I've even seen.

3: Ok-yeah-that's-not-okay moments

Do I really need to add anything.

I will anyways. Mitsuba is a dramatic by nature, unrelated to any of the emotional damage he's suffered. The fact that Tsukasa can make him stop crying just by demanding it really shows how bad he messed up Mitsuba. The ability to stop crying on command out of fear..... somebody save him.

Stay away!

Can't add to many pictures because of the tumbler limitations, but in every one of these scenes Mitsuba totally freezes, only regaining control and suddenly snapping once someone (aka Kou) does anything intimidating to him.

Going in-depth about the similarities between Kou and Tsukasa is an entirely different ordeal, but in short summery:

There's a carefully built connection between Tsukasa and Kou, that deserves a post of it's own.

4: Symptoms of trauma:

Trust issues are heavily associated with a problematic childhood, so it's not very surprising that Mitsuba struggles to trust anyone besides Tsukasa, even if he doesn't want to.

Very commonly appearing alongside trauma, self destructive behaviors are a tragically common coping habit. I don't think I need to add any pictures for this one, as practically every other sentence Mitsuba says have some 'Just let me pass away' coding to it.

Lack of memories is a symptom that appears in very severe cases, and while it isn't completely accurate to Mitsuba it's an interesting addition considering Mitsuba has no memories.

5: Character design:

Mitsuba has lots of chains and locks in his wonder form, a lock on his neck (which has multiple interpretations), one preventing his heart from beating, which could be a clever metaphor for Mitsuba further constricting his humanity by "choosing" to become a wonder, but most interesting:

What looks to be the remains of a leg shackle.

Mitsuba in a box labeled as fragile.

6: This definitely isn't a metaphor for an eating disorder:

"I'm always hungry, no matter how much I eat" -M

"You starved yourself from all this moping around, just because you didn't want to eat something different?" -K

Can we talk about how the fandom collectively just skipped over the huge reveal that Mitsuba STARVES HIMSELF. Because I feel like that really wasn't talked about. As if this guy doesn't have enough going on, he now has to deal with constant starvation, dehumanization at new never-seen-before-pace, and the loss of his will to exist in the first place.

He is both metaphorically and physically falling apart, constantly in physical pain. When he isn't in physical pain it's because he's experiencing gut-wrenching psychological torment as he can't stop eating live beings. I don't blame this guy.

The only person who knew of this was Tsukasa, until he "told" Kou. Told is in quotation marks because it was never really Mitsuba trusting Kou enough to open up about the hell he's enduring, as mentioned before Mitsuba doesn't exactly know how to trust. The fact was forced out of him due to a dire situation, but Kou could not have reacted in a worse way:

Pro tip: If your reaction to learning that your best buddy is suffering from a complicated relationship with food, is shoving said food into their mouth violently, you might need therapy just as much as they do.

Kou is still unaware that Mitsuba's diet contains living things too, but if we're being honest that doesn't really put Kou in the right here. Like, man, I know you're freaking out because your friend just asked you to end him, but please take out your anger on something that isn't him.

And don't act surprised when this is his reaction:

This is arguably the a result of post traumatic stress disorder. Mitsuba didn't just escape, he hid in the nearest corner, making himself as small as possible, hid his head and trembled. The reason I'm calling this out as PTSD is because the only other time he panicked like this was right after Tsukasa shoved the bird heart down his throat.

So for both situations it's:

Tsukasa force feeds Mitsuba -> Mitsuba loses control (starts attacking everything)

Kou force feeds Mitsuba -> Mitsuba bites Kou

And the results are the same. He reacted the same way because mentally it was the same situation to him, It doesn't matter what the intentions were, Kou triggered an event(s (considering he's eaten multiple supernatural and is absolutely repulsed by it)) that Mitsuba had no intention of revisiting.

Summery:

Mitsuba's trauma is often overshadowed by more obvious displays of mental scarring, like with the Yugi twins and Kou, and is often represented with irony or humor, including by the creators themselves.

Even without everything he's gone though, Mitsuba was always a hopeless character. He just existed one day. He doesn't have anything, anyone. He's never been told he's loved, he's never felt sunlight, he never got to play, he's never had anyone tuck him into bed, or read him a story. He was robbed of his childhood, and any connections besides the few who remember him for someone that he isn't.

He doesn't even know what snow is, yet he knows how blood tastes like

This entire post wasn't even scratching the tip of the iceberg in terms of how much grave emotional turmoil Mitsuba has faced. And will face. Yeah I don't know how well his trust issues will cope with Natsuhiko leaving him to die. If he lives.

The idea of this long rant was to point out that Mitsuba's trauma and mental struggles are just as, if not more, relevant then his physical ones. And they do affect him, and they do have consequences. And they will most certainly come back 20x worse later on in the plot. I would say to prepare mentally, but I know tbhk fans can handle just about anything.

Thank you for reading!

ヾ(≧▽≦*)

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#tbhk #jshk #mitsuba sousuke #tbhk mitsuba #analogy

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the-artist-grimm · 1 day ago

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Im sorry if you already answered something similar but does the twins ever reunite with Forneus in your au? If so how does it exactly work out, does Narinder, Anthea, and Forneus share custody?

Crimson Angel AU - The Situation between Forneus and the Twins

(Anon, @gerroacarnival and @xquaserh Putting all these asks in 1 cause oh boy this is a COMPLICATED question to answer oof. I wanna preface this that while I love Forneus just going by the characters personalities/themes of this AU the reunion is not as fairy-tale happy as it is in game)

Anyway-the boys do reunite with her technically, but not in the way Forneus dreamt. Reunions are good in theory, the long lost children reunite with their ‘real’ family, hug their mother, go ‘home’ with her, start life anew, but life isn’t so simple, now is it? It’s never that easy, not when one side clings to the memory of three day old infants and a reunion she'd dreamt of for so long it just became her expectation, and the other side has no memory and complex feelings on the whole matter with this slight feeling that perhaps while their mother loves the idea of them, she doesn't actually love them.

It's messy, complicated, and no matter what, will NEVER be the reunion Forneus wanted. The second they left her embrace, she lost the chance to be the mother she'd wanted to be for them, yet never realize till too late what else died with them.

(Putting this under the cut cause it's longgggg. The Twins and Forneus's story has so little in-game text that it's become this favorite thing of mine to interpret/expand)

The Two Parents

Forneus did and didn’t have a choice to give the boys up. When Shamura appeared, the newborn, extremely premature kits were already doomed to die, so the choice to either let them pass naturally or to allow War to take them as gifts with a potential of reunion was an either damned if she did or damned if she didn’t, situation. And in her grief and desperation, she chose the option that gave the potential for hope. She gave the twins to Shamura, accepted the golden skull, and waited. Waited for her babies to come home, waited as a mother who never really ever had a chance to be a mother-one who works off feelings but no experience.

Meanwhile when it came to Aym and Baal, Narinder never told them who their parent(s) were. How could he, when he himself had no certainty as to who they were? Though his 7th Vessel, Forneus, had left service specifically because of pregnancy, he had no means of tracking how much time had passed since when they first arrived (it could've been a century since for all he knew), nor any means to confirm without doubt that the black, newborn kittens were hers even once his next vessel gave him the date-he couldn't ask them to investigate something so personal and unrelated to their cause.

Their box held only their bodies, a spider-silk cloth which was their burial shroud, and a note penned in Shamura’s hand. ‘A Gift’ that’s all the note said. No names, no clues, no nothing. While Narinder had suspicions, he could not in good conscious tell the boys of a potential mother out of risk of being wrong-of getting their hopes up for a heroic parent only to be proved that it wasn’t her, or worse, told heroic tales just to learn they were abandoned all along. Vessel 7 was heroic yes, had a sense of justice yes, but during her service her luck had made her grow arrogant, had transformed flirting into a game of hearts and people into a way to get the upper hand-for all he knew, if they were hers, they could've all along been her means of trying to easily get out of vesselship. He just didn't know.

And thus Narinder raised them from there. He tried to use the title of ‘Master’ as a barrier in hopes that, if they did have a family awaiting them, he wouldn't take their place, (it was also out of guilt for being the reason they were trapped) but he also couldn't bring himself to fully shut them out either. The moment their dead bodies healed in the gate and they started to mewl for attention his unbeating heart bled for them, and he just couldn't deny them love because he knew how much it hurt to be without.

The Twins

As centuries passed Aym and Baal were content with Narinder as their 'Master'. He who told them stories of his time above, who taught them how to fight, who fashioned them clothes from whatever scraps of cloth he would get vessels to send-he was all they had and knew. When they felt the time to sleep it was in his paws they curled up, when they got hurt training or got bored it was from he they received comfort and attention. It was his magic which allowed them to age against the Gateway's stasis, it was he who saw their eyes open, watched as they learned to speak and walk.

But that’s not to say neither did think of whoever was left behind from time to time. Baal tried to keep hope that he and his brother were taken-stolen by the Bishops, with whatever parents they’d had having desperately tried to keep War away. Aym, meanwhile, only felt anger, bitterness and resentment, for who lets two three day old kits be taken and sacrificed? Narinder himself simply tried to keep neutral on the subject, not wanting to feed into either side in hopes that'd avoid a heartbreak or the smooth transition to their 'real' kin.

The Lamb

When the Lamb appears and starts to befriend them, it's then the boys suddenly find themselves feeling the same sense of security and comfort Narinder gives them towards Anthea. As the lamb brings them toys and books catered to their interests, teaches them to read, uses the crown to show them the world above and encourage their boundless curiosities. As nights suddenly see the lamb visit in their nightgown book and quilt in hand, letting the twins snuggle into their sides as the three are cradled against Narinder's chest while reading a book, and the boys fall asleep to a heartbeat for the first time. Narinder had always been stability and security, Anthea became tenderness and warmth.

Anthea teaches them what a 'Father' is as well, and the boys realize that's what their master actually is-he's their dad and tentatively start testing calling him as such, and while it's not until just before Silk Cradle they realize it (yet don't call them Baba yet) Anthea's long on their way to feeling like a parent too.

Which then begs the question…what of the parent(s) left behind?

First Contact

Baal still wants to meet them, he's always been curious and just wants to know who they are, while Aym is still angry and wants nothing to do with them. They got a parent in their master, and Anthea's their friend and practically a parent too, so why bother with the ones who abandoned them? Narinder overhears the boys debate over it more and more, and as Anchordeep’s door opens, Narinder hesitantly asks the Lamb for a favor.

He’d heard rumors of a shopkeep she-cat who wore a golden skull, and Anthea had been the first to confirm that cat's name was Forneus. He’d never asked a vessel to do such a thing before, mainly out of not feeling close enough to ever ask such a personal, unrelated to the Bishops, task, but he wants to give the boys closure, and Anthea would happily do anything to help the kits. And thus they're sent out, and in a bit of a side quest work their way to getting Forneus to sit down and just...talk.

She explains her side of what happened, how the boys were born too soon, how she had really no choice, breaks down, and as the cats had been listening in and Aym who's now uncertain feels bad, and he requests Narinder for permission to speak.

“Save your tears for when we meet” is what he says, and that’s all that’s said through the crown.

For Aym it’s an olive branch-he’s sorta gotten an answer as to why he and his brother were sacrificed, though he's not entirely sure how to feel since well...she still gave them up, but she looks sorry so... Baal's eager and happy to hear that they were cared about but is a little disappointed at realizing that she didn't really hesitate despite the situation, but regardless, both are willing to give her a chance. They want to get to know her, and then they'll decide how they feel after that.

They, do not, see her as a proper 'Mother'. Just someone who shares their blood who they want to meet. To then Narinder's still Dad-he's still the one who makes them feel secure.

Meanwhile for Forneus it’s proof that she’ll get what was promised. Her boys are not only alive, but they’re children-they’re still children, so she'll now get what she wanted and more. They'll reunite and she'll then take her children home to travel by her side-she’ll get to raise her dear little babies just as she’d planned, and while it took so long it's going to be perfect.

She's dreamt of the boys seeing and running into her oncoming embrace crying. That they'll love her instantly and had already because she's their mother so of course that's how they'll feel. How could they not? Children ALWAYS love their parents.

The Lamb promises to help her meet them once they’re free, and every visit after, Forneus tries to get the boys to talk again-offers gifts for the lamb to bring to the Gateway, rambles on about all the things they'll do together while the Lamb browses her shop. And...well they're things, at least. Most of the toys she offers are either baby toys or things that just don't interest the boys, and some of her plans are...plans. They're elaborate-taking them to X mountain, to X landmark, traveling here and there and everywhere. Big and grand and...and never mentioning their Dad or Anthea being there.

Baal thinks it's sweet how excited she is while Aym is getting more and more unsure-but even Baal eventually admits that she's a little...loud. Forneus is loud-she's energetic and eager and while he and Aym can be too, seeing it from a stranger about them is...weird. She keeps calling herself their Mama , and calling them Zamir and Delshad despite being told otherwise because apparently those were their names (a fact not even Shamura had been given. Narinder had to name the boys himself). She keeps talking about those three days they were with her, and it kinda feels like she loves the babies she gave up and not them.

Anthea tries to tell her about them, but she usually doesn't realzie since she's busy talking to her babies and not them, it's as if the lamb isn't even there. The boys can't even try to think of trying to talk-she never leaves an opening for them to try. Eventually the boys ask Narinder to mute the crown during the Lamb's shop visits the more uncomfortable it gets.

It's like going to a family reunion and being brought to your great Aunt who last saw you as an infant at your christening. She insists on kissing your face and hugging you tight and going oh how big you've grown sweetiepie and this and that and...and you put up with it because she's family but...well she's a stranger despite the shared blood. She doesn't actually know the you of now-and you don't know her.

Reunion

When the final Bishop falls is when Forneus suddenly finds herself left in the dark. For 6 months she sees hide nor hair of the Lamb, and gradually gets worried because where are her sons? The Bishops are dead, why hasn't she been given back her babies?

(The Lamb had been avoiding her cart during crusades out of both grief and guilt-Aym's dying word of calling them 'Baba'...it broke something in them, made them realize just how much the boys had meant. They had a shattered heart and endless guilt, and having to face Forneus and explain she'd never meet her sons? It'd been too much as a grieving parent themself)

The twins were revived after 4 months but Anthea only finally approached Forneus after 6, and she was too relived to finally hear she could meet them to bother asking what'd happened. Anthea invited her to come to the cult that weekend, and Forneus happily accepted, not even noticing the tiredness in the Lamb's eyes nor the uncertainty in their tone. Even on the day she arrived at the cult, she didn't mind the lamb, not even as Anthea gave her a final warning.

"There was trouble setting them free…they’re wary, skittish, they’ve been through a lot... I know you’re excited but please be gentle when you speak to them, be calm and keep your distance please they’re so easy to startle."

Meanwhile the boys waited at the temple with Narinder, who, for the hundredth time, asked if they were certain they were ready for this. Though it'd been 2 months, the toll of dying so traumatically via turning to ash, of being trapped in the gateway, the trauma of resurrection, the fear of being alone without their parents because that's what he and Anthea were to them, Narinder had wanted them to wait as did Anthea. The boys could hardly sleep without at least one of them there with them in bed, were just starting to be ok interacting with other people, could only handle the touch of a select few and even then sometimes would just break down into panic attacks out of seemingly nowhere. They weren't ok, but the boys had insisted. This woman who claimed to love them had been kept in the dark for so long, they felt bad and wanted to try.

They felt guilty for not being ok. Even as Narinder and Anthea repeatedly and gently reminded them that it was alright-that their feelings were valid, that they could take all the time they needed and they'd be right there to support them, the boys had insisted and they just couldn't deny them their choice.

But once Forneus arrived no one got the chance to even properly introduce the boys to her-she just saw them, ran towards them for the reunion she dreamt up, swept them into her arms, and next thing she knew she had two yowling, struggling kits trying to break from her hold. In her excitement and in not listening to Anthea's warnings she'd done the worst thing anyone could've done-she was louder, bigger, stronger, scarier than them, and as the kids managed to shock her into dropping them suddenly Baal was hyperventilating, and Aym was working himself into a panic attack. And Narinder and Anthea, having two months practice in calming them like this, and having long been the twin's safe people, immediately fell into place. Narinder got Baal, Anthea got Aym, and Forneus could only watch.

Could only watch as Baal started gasping for Dad as Narinder tried to get him to breathe, as Aym started sobbing for Baba and practically tried to bury himself in their embrace, as her babies looked at her in fear and clung to someone else.

And then all she can feel is anger. She'd waited 300 years-those boys were hers. Why are they clinging to someone else?

From there it just becomes a mess, she gets into a very loud, very heated argument with Narinder especially for 'stealing' her sons which just scares the boys more, and in a very poor move tries to just grab one of them which prompts Anthea to use a show of godly power and threaten her to get out of the Cult which she does since a crowd has also formed (the Cult was ALL aware of the twin's poor mental state, and they'd all grown very protective of the community's first children despite having to keep their distance because by gods those kids deserved more than what fate had given them).

Forneus leaves angry, and Narinder and Anthea now got two kits who had been tentatively healing temporarily back at square one, and who are now gonna start having nightmares of a stranger taking them away on top of preexisting ones.

I wanna note that Forneus isn't a bad person. She isn't, but she's also not used to things not going her way. As a vessel she was 'Lady Luck', she who rarely died, who always had the upper hand, who would pop curse shots at the Goddess of Famine for fun and be the heartbreaker of her own cult able to flirt and tease and talk her way to whatever she wished. She's kind and cheerful and charismatic sure and she genuinely does want to help people and do the right thing, but there's still this...ignorance, arrogance-that she doesn't even realize is there.

Like how above in Starfall Part 1 she VERY casually mentions how she 'knows what it's like missing her own twins' and 'how 'hard' it must be for Anthea to have nothing of their family to remember them by', but the thing is...she doesn't know. She's so hooked on this idea that she WILL get her boys back that she completely has just ignored the grief that comes with loss entirely this whole time. The way she misses her sons is NOTHING like how Anthea misses their brothers-she misses them like a relative you haven't seen in awhile but will see soon. Anthea misses their brothers because they're DEAD and they know that they will NEVER see the two again, especially now. Like Forneus has not considered how she's lost a LOT of moments with her children. They're still kids yeah but they're not returning to her as blank slates-though physically and mentally 11 they've been with Narinder for over 300 years, that's a lot of time to be without her. She loves them, but kinda more-so the sons she thought she'd get back.

Thus when you've been envisioning this 'perfect' reunion the entire time only for it to not go your way...it's a hard pill to swallow. She gets disappointed/angry understandably-anyone would, but instead of stepping back and realizing she can't fault the boy's feelings she takes it out of the ones who 'took' her place instead, which then turns her into this loud scary bad-guy to the boys.

And Aym and Baal aren't to blame in this situation, like they're kids, and like with my 'great aunt who last saw you as a baby' analogy, it's not their fault they don't immediately love her. She's a stranger-one whom, the more she tried to force interactions via the crown during their imprisonment, seemed to have little interest in them personally and more in whatever children she assumed she'd be getting back. And after that disaster of a first meeting? They don't want anything to do with her she scared them that much.

As for Narinder and Anthea they both feel awful because they understand why Forneus is angry, she only gave them up because she was promised a chance for reunion (though she ignored the CHANCE part of that), but in the same breath Aym and Baal are their sons and they'll take their side first over anyone else's. And the thing is there's nothing that could've been done on their part to prevent this really either.

Anthea telling Forneus the twins had died? Anger, grief, then upon their revival a fierce insistence for the boys to NEVER go near the Lamb or Narinder again, which the twins would've been just as terrified and against.

Narinder not showing care to the kits for those 300 years? They would've gotten attached to him anyway since he was literally all they had, though they might've turned out worse emotionally because of neglect

Telling the boys to wait longer to meet Forneus? She likely would've just shown up on her own within another month anyway since by that point Anthea had just freed Heket from Purgatory and word was starting to get around about the new God of Death so this would've happened but worse.

The only way Forneus could've had the reunion she'd wanted would have been if Narinder never forced the twins to start aging against the stasis. But then there would be two 300+ year old infants, which is a whole other can of worms.

Notes/Explaination

Again I love Forneus in-game she's so adorable and my one of my favorite NPCs to visit, but I also like making imperfect characters, especially parents and their relationships with their children. And while I love the idea of her being this wonderful, sweet, amazing mother, I also like the idea of her being really flawed about it to.

Crimson Angel is about learning to communicate with your loved ones, and in this case, it needs to be her looking at things from the twins view and realizing that if they don't want her in their lives, she has to accept that. She needs to realize that she's not entitled to their love just because she gave birth to them. She also has to let go of the sons she gave up that day-those three day old infants who were perfect little blank slates, and get to know the boys they became without her. She has to realize someone else took her place in their hearts, and realize that if she wants to join them, she HAS to let the boys come to her, and that she has to work on THEIR terms.

She cannot try and force a love if she wants a chance for it at all, and must swallow her pride and listen to others who know the boys better-Anthea and Narinder, alongside the boys themselves.

She'll get a relationship with the boys eventually, but it's not going to be the one she hoped for. She's gotta work on herself first and realize her flaws, maybe get some practice with handling children via unintentionally adopting a certain fan-favorite grave spider kid after finding him all alone, and just...wait. Narinder and Anthea are the twin's primary parents, and while Forneus does eventually get to a place where they're comfortable with her, it's never going to be on the same level, and they all just gotta contend with that.

Boarders are by @/lambouillet

#I love tragic stories can't you tell? Also stories that explorer the relationship between parents and kids-cause a lot of times kids agency #in the relationship is often ignored/taken for granted-they shouldn't be expected to love someone because of blood alone #*beats characters emotions to a pulp* it's for character development I swear!#crimson angel au #cotl #ask #cotl shamura #cotl narinder #cotl aym #cotl baal #crimson angel au lore #cotl forneus #cult of the lamb #my writing

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cloudselkie · 13 hours ago

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For Miri and Siebren:

1. Ah, pre or post accident? Pre it's definitely Miri. Post it is unfortunately Siebren.

2. Miri gets it for this one. Siebren is more private than she is.

3. Siebren has and will continue to forget to text her back. Science can be so distracting, you know.

4. This also goes to Siebren. His age factors into this, but also he loves music.

5. If you look up the definition of oblivious in the dictionary, you will find both of their pictures. They're pretty dense.

6. Oof, Miri and her poor ADHD ass can never find her keys.

7. Miri would be the one to apologize first. She values harmony far more than Siebren, who is more likely to hang on to negative feelings longer, especially if he feels he is in the right.

8. Oh, absolutely Siebren. He has never been much of a party guy anyway.

9. See #1. Same situation.

10. Miri, and only if it meant getting to show up Siebren for a few minutes before revealing her deception. Siebren would never - his pride won't let him.

11. Neither. These two are dead if they end up on a deserted island. But more likely? Probably Siebren.

12. This one also goes to Siebren and he doesn't always care if he's alone, at least for humming.

13. Miri has played wing woman to Helena so many times.

14. This one goes to Miri, but Siebren is an old sap when he wants to be.

15. 100% Miri. She's always worn her heart on her sleeve.

16. While both would like to avoid unnecessary run-ins with local law enforcement, it's probably Miri just due to being more socially adventurous than Siebren and more likely to end up in a weird situation.

17. Siebren. He has a terrible habit of having a running commentary during movies, but it's usually pretty funny, so Miri enjoys it.

18. Siebren on a technicality - he said it in Dutch and she didn't know what it meant until weeks later when she remembered to look it up.

19. They're both cuddlers, honestly.

20. Siebren isn't great with dates, but he does keep a calendar to help him remember important ones.

21. Siebren wins this one. He's got style, but functionality is definitely his main concern with clothes, and he tends to lean on classic mens' clothing colors and styles. Miri on the other hand loves bohemian styles and bold colors.

22. Siebren's private nature makes him an excellent confidant. Miri, though she does respect people when they ask her not to share something, is more likely to spill the beans if she feels it is necessary.

23. Miri is hotheaded and more likely to immediately stand up to someone in a fight. Siebren, however, is more likely able to WIN that fight.

24. Miri again on this one as the naturally more outgoing of the two. The gala was an anomaly and Siebren wasn't entirely sober when he asked Miri to dance. Liquid courage is right!

25. These two are both night owls, and they are both well known for foregoing sleep in order to finish whatever they were working on. However, Miri is probably worse because being younger, she is still able to get away with it better than Siebren.

Send this to someone who has OCs

Most likely...

to get lost

to kiss and tell

to 'forget' to text back

to know the lyrics to every song you play

to not realize that they are being flirted with

to lose their keys repeatedly

to apologize first

to leave a party early

to get lost in a place they already know

to cheat while playing a game

to survive in the wild

to sing when they think they are alone

to be someone's wingman/woman

to plan a romantic date

to start blushing

to get arrested

to talk during a movie

to say I love you first

to be a cuddler

to forget about someone's birthday

to always wear the same outfit

to not be able to keep a secret

to defend their friends in a fight

to drag the other's to the dance floor

to fall asleep first at a sleepover

#shay's weird overwatch fanfic #siebren de kuiper #siebren de kuiper x oc

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newkatzkafe2023 · 1 day ago

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What If Y/N Got the ciclet But her Power was too much strong that The Ciclet Broked?

@lara-legomonkiekid

The king may rule the kingdom, but it's the queen who moves the board-D.M Timney

youtube

(Lmk Wukong) Yoooooo he is mighty pissed right now, he left you out of the celestial war for a Motherf*cking REASON!!!!!!!!😡🤬 He knew damn well you would escalate the situation especially with your weapon and how many Celestials lost their lives to you. Though to punish you for something you were not responsible for like at all, and their gonna make you pay for this too as the forced the circlet on you had until something unexpected happened.

You were screaming and yelling as you put your power towards your head making Wukong tear up at your pain but soon the circlet completing Burst into pieces. As you glared at the celestials shocking Wukong and scarying the celestials as the see the power of the monkey queen.

(MKR Wukong) Ohhhhhhhhhh boi he's gonna hate himself, for the situation he just got you both into especially in the celestial court. You never backed down yelling that you both deserve better then this, standing up for you and your husband. You may have lost the war but you will win this fight no matter what, that was until the Circlets were forced on not only his but your head as well.

Unfortunately that just further pissed you off as you eyes glowed dark red as you glared at the heavens court, Wukong tried to calm you down even a little bit until he saw that your circlet was overloading trying to contain your power all in vain until it exploded into a billion pieces. At that point he back away from you as he was now genuinely terrified of you.

(NR Wukong) He feels horrible about this not to mention you were his second in command in the war. Then you were put under the same mountain and he would spend all those years apologizing for what happened, but your were more angry with heaven then you would be with him. Then it's gets worse when you are made to wear the circlet as well and those things are painful!!!! Wukong made sure to protect you from it's effects despite your pain tolerance to be higher then his and he's about to see why.

When your eyes soon became pink in blind rage and the circlet cracked and broke right off your head as you glared at into the celestials souls. Wukong was terrified but also turn on entirely as he got a boner from the on coming bloodbath.

(NR Wukong) He feels horrible about it to this day, not to mention you were his second in command in the war. Then you were put under the same mountain crying in a blood diamond, he had spend all those years apologizing for what happened, but you were more angry with heaven than you ever would be with him. Then it's gets worse when you are made to wear the circlet as well and those things are painful!!!! Wukong would make sure to protect you from its effects despite your pain tolerance to be higher than his, but then something interesting happened

Your eyes became orange and your scream and was covered in an orange Aura and so your power had destroyed the circlet on your head as you turned to face them, it's still a shock for Wukong as he tell the story to Luier and Silly girl.

(Netflix Wukong) YOUR ONE OF THE PEOPLE HE KNOWS NEVER TO UNDERESTIMATE YOU, well next to Lin of course. You had joined him in your own Kaiju form and join him in his fight against heaven, they had Bullied, slandered, exclude and ostracized you both for the last time and you were ready to get even along with your husband. Now not only were you about to be forced under a mountain but those horrible circlets on yout heads, Except when that happens

You soon had your very own red eyes, matching your husband's and your power single Handley destroyed the circlet that was forced on your head for trying to contain your powers. Now the about to know why the even the king fears the queen. Meanwhile Wukong sat there pale, he hopes to never make you that angry.

(BMW Wukong) Heaven is on their bullsh*t again like always, and are messing with you two even after the war. he always knew you were something special, especially when you both got married. Then came the day the celestials came to demand more things from you and Wukong, and to just have you both under their thumbs. All you both wanted was a life together on flower fruit mountain and have a peaceful married life and maybe start a family. Unfortunately that didn't happen and now a circlet was being forced on both of your heads except

your eyes glowed dark blue and with a loud roar you unleashed your powers, and the circlet on your head stood no chance against your power and was smashed into a billion pieces. You turned to Erlang and the heavens army and unleash hell on all of them, meanwhile Wukong had a very intense fear boner upon this scene but he loves it.

(Destined one) that became a dark and terrible time. After all, you were there when he had that fight with Erlang. You had jumped in to help your husband fight against Erlang while you held off the heavens army, but unfortunately that was their plan so separate you both. Then that horrible circlet that would shock to you to kingdom come was forced on, you always had a high pain tolerance but you were still uncomfortable and that was enough to make the destined one irritated and Vicious he's gonna make sure you won't have to worry about a thing. Although something very different happened

Your eyes became light blue as you unleash the full power of the Destined Queen as that damn Circlet was overwhelmed and blown right off your head. In your rage you turned and destroyed the circlet that was forced on his head. Then directed your wrath back at Erlang as the destined one sat there in shock the destined one now hope to not Upset you.

FEEL FREE TO REBLOG👑

#monkey king netflix #monkey king reborn #monkey king x reader #nezha reborn #lmk monkey king #monkey king hero is back #x female y/n #black myth wukong #the destined one x reader #y/n is a war woman #girlboss behavior #god eater

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eluminium · 2 days ago

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WILD LIFE IMPULSE MAKES ME SO WEIRDLY SAD GUYS ISTGGGGGG- MAYBE I'M JUST HIGH OFF OF MY OWN SUPPLY BUT MY GOD.

People treat him like he's somehow massively different from how he used to be, even some of his own allies. They think he's causing problems on purpose, they think he's intentionally being difficult and getting in the way of things. He's changed for the worse. But really, what HAS changed about Impulse in WL compared to earlier seasons? From what I've seen, it's only one thing.

He wants to win. He's made it known that he's aiming for that metaphorical crown. Outside of that one verbalized goal, Impulse has not changed in the slightest. He's still doing the things he's always done.

I mean, think about it. Is there anything Impulse has DONE (not said) that's especially mean, traitorish or troubling? The only thing I can think of is in this newest session (aka session 4) where he and Pearl do some minimal stealing from Joel and Gem, but this thievery is way after their reputations as troublemakers began! Really, the only thing you could argue before this is the cow situation in sessions 1-2, but come on. Accusing Gem and Joel of stealing their cows wasn't the biggest leap in the world, y'know? However, it is kind of unlike Impulse to lash out and accuse someone of something like that. He's usually pretty quiet about situations like this, instead choosing to stew in his frustrations and develop a grudge.

And I think that's what is making people uncomfortable in this season. Impulse speaking out. Impulse demanding things. Impulse making his wills and wants known. And it's something I find so tragic in all of this. People are uncomfortable and untrusting of Impulse because, for once in his god damn lives (many of them), he openly wants good things for himself. And they're not even unreasonable things! Of course, he wants to win, everybody wants to win! But because he never says what he wants normally, it's reminding people (especially allies) that he might have his own goals that could get in the way of their goals.

But, and this is probably the biggest tragedy of all, Impulse doesn't actually prioritize himself that much more than before. Yeah, he's louder than usual, but look at his actions. Anytime he's had to act on anything, he chooses to do more or less whats best for his team, instead of himself. He apologizes to Gem when instructed, he moves together with the rest of the 4Gs to the new base despite voicing how the old base was safer, he tries to clear the air with Ren despite the fact Ren killed him so they can have another ally against Grian (no gurantee the grudge won't come up again though, BUT FOR NOW).

And of course, he does what he always does. Works as hard as he can to make sure his team is as safe and armed as possible. I mean, he builds a creeper farm TWICE, he goes mining for diamonds and says out loud that he wants to get enough so ALL of them could have full diamond armour, he builds a chicken farm for them to have a reliable food source! He's still Impulse, doing what Impulse does best. Pearl even CALLS HIM OUT on this near the end of session 4, saying: "So Impulse, where's the chaos bone? Where is it? You've been too tame today, what's going on?". And Impulse rationalizes by pointing out he lost 3 lives last session and isn't willing to start something he can't finish and how he's "gearing up because this is the calm before the storm!"...and then instantly giving himself another grindy task to do next time in the form of going to the Nether to get resources.

Because he's just doing what he always does, falling back into the same team-pleasing behaviours. Because what he wants most isn't actually winning, despite what he tells himself. He wants someone to want him, to care about him. And the best way he knows how to make people care about him is to show how useful he can be to them. It also doubles as insurence, because if he cannot be wanted, the resources will make sure he will be needed. And if he cannot be needed...he'll let his team use him until there's nothing left of him, until there's no more purposes for him to have. Not because he wants that, in fact he'll usually say the opposite, but because it's the only thing he knows. Work, work, work and keep going because if he just puts in enough honest effort he can get anything he wants, right?

And this loops back to people being overly suspicious of him this season. Because people-pleasing, resource gathering, mild-mannered Impulse is the Impulse people are used too, and the Impulse that is the most useful to them. You can really see this almost subconcious mindset in the gossiping between Scott and Gem in session 4. They talk about how Impulse has a weird tone of voice this season, how he's causing problems, and how they miss the "kind and trustworthy" Impulse from Secret Life. But he's not that different, and he hasn't actually done anything major. Except for expressing his wants more than usual, especially his want to win. But that's already enough of a change in his behaviour to be a problem. Scott and Gem are longing for the Impulse who's an extremely useful and dedicated asset who will grind his ass off for the good of his team without anyone even asking, making sure they got everything they need to survive, but at the same time he doesn't get in the way. He doesn't cause any sort of problems, justified or not, and he doesn't have any wants of his own that could clash with their wants. This "new" Impulse who expresses his goals openly is a possible threat they have to account for, even if he's still mostly the same old reliable Impulse.

And in a depressing way, this makes sense, doesn't it? Imagine, in this death game of betrayal and opprotunism and paranoia, you have a person who gladly gets you everything you needed. Armour, weapons, potions, food, tools, farms, everything! Without even having to be pushed at all! In fact, he's all the more happy to get you something if you ask! And he barely asks for anything in return in comparison. You can more or less pay him in a job well done, and he'll be satisfied. He's easy to mold, easy to incorprate into your goals and wants. Isn't that so nice? So reliable? You have 99 problems but at least this isn't one! Now you have something safe to cling onto in all this chaos.

...Now imagine if that ally suddenly started talking about what HE wants. He starts making demands, standing up for himself, and letting his anger come out. No matter how small these moments are, it's gonna throw you for a loop! Why would he act like this when he never has before? Why would he suddenly start having goals that aren't yours? Why is he confronting you about something you didn't even do instead of grumbling in a corner for a bit? Now he might be a problem, his goals could directly clash with yours. Actually, the fact he's doing this at all means he's up to something. I mean, the motivation has to come from somewhere! Now you hear it in his tone, in his speech patterns, in every moment he doesn't completely roll over for you, and even in the moments he does! He could be a threat now, and you don't like that. You miss the old version of your ally. He's broken now, he needs to be fixed. Keep working with him so he'll revert back to who he used to be, back to when he was quiet. Jokingly call it therapy while you're at it.

IT MAKES SENSE. AND IT SADDENS ME SO MUCH. ESPECIALLY WHEN IMPULSE ISN'T EVEN GAINING ANYTHING FROM THIS BECAUSE HE'S ACTUALLY NOT WORKING FOR HIMSELF AT ALL. HE'S BEEN LABELED A PROBLEM BECAUSE HIS PERSONAL GROWTH, HIM FINALLY TRYING TO PUT HIMSELF FIRST FOR ONCE, IS A THREAT TO HIS ENEMIES...AND HIS ALLIES.

Of course he isn't fully innocent in anything, nobody is, but it's just so sad how all of these factors, factors where no one really is in the wrong, work together to create a situation where Impulse has a reputation looming over his head that he can't even take advantage of. And it's in the season where he wants to win, too...WILD LIFE IMPULSE MY SPECIALIST LITTLE GUY....

#impulsesv #wild life #wild life spoilers #wild life session 4 spoilers #i would tag gem and scott because they do play a big role here but like. it's not about them really #the life series #traffic series #character analysis #my writing #trafficblr #dose of impulse #dose of scott #dose of gem #long post

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rootspiral · 9 hours ago

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part [1][2][3]

We left Agatha killing her coven in a flashback (but sparing their children). Back to present Agatha, and what is she doing? Pretending to talk to her rabbit. Look, she might be a dedicated con artist, but she can only come up with very cheesy characters, what can you do?

Is she meeting the real you, Agatha, are you sure?

oh she's so intrigued

She's about to be very very cruel, and there's a lot to unpack here. To her torture is a mean to an end, but there's also rage, jealousy, bitterness, so much bitterness there. She hates witches, and she hates Wanda. She also can't help sympathizing with Wanda, the parallels between the two of them are obvious. There are always so many contradicting emotions in Agatha.

Like, the way she's been teaching her about magic. She's taunting her, she's showing off. But once upon a time she was a clueless young witch denied knowledge from her elders. And now that Wanda is in that position, she could teach her. She almost wants to. She is curious, she loves learning, finding out how things work, and in other, better universes she is a teacher.

*angrily shakes a bird at Wanda*

LOOK WHO'S TALKING, OH MY GOD. But honestly though, that's why she can't help sympathizing. They are the same.

And she is a biiiiiit in lust too tbh. Not her fault she has a high libido. Agatha is having a DAY.

A good rule of thumb is, the more Agatha jokes, the more she's uncomfortable with a situation, the fact that she's making fun of a little boy tells you right away that she doesn't mean it. Sarcasm is her defense skill. She was barely able to contain her rage a moment ago, she is not as calm as she appears. And she doesn't like having to sit through Wanda's trauma one bit, both because she's sorry for Wanda and because she doesn't want to witness that pain herself. She had hoped to crack Wanda without having to do this, but she won't step down now, she won't relent.

that's a whole lesbian, dear god. thank you costume and hair departments and thank you kathryn hahn.

my theory is that detective Agnes of Westview was clearly created by Agatha herself rather than Wanda and speaks about her grim personality and eagerness to solve mysteries, but we'll get to that later

that's interesting, she smiles at Wanda, looks worried at the door for a second, then smiles at Wanda again. play acting or real concern? Wanda wasn't looking at her face in that moment.

her body language is something between intrigued and defensive

NOT THIS BITCH DRYING HER EYES AGAIN AT THE "WHAT IS GRIEF BUT LOVE PERSEVERING" SPEECH.

You know what though, for Agatha to know exactly what buttons to push to break Wanda, she'd need to have a deep understanding of how trauma and grief work. Which means she knows the way she blames Rio and hangs up on Nicky's memory is not healthy, but she is unwilling or unable to make an effort towards healing. Not that you can ever completely heal from something like that tbh, but she knows the way she's acting is making things worse.

The slow clap, she's such a cheesy villain. That (gay) way she sits though, she wants both to project strength and to shield her body, she is nervous. She's now 100% sure that Wanda is the Scarlet Witch. Time for her last gamble.

Knowing Agatha as we know her now, it's easy to see she's wearing her best witchy costume to put on the ultimate show. She made Wanda cry to get at her secrets, now it's time to make her angry. She could just have provoked her in the first place, but like I said she's at her core a coward detective and scholar and yearns to learn stuff. I really do believe that Billy and Tommy weren't in any actual danger here and it looks worse than it is. On the other hand, she is absolutely scaring them shitless, but like with Sparky she chooses to ignore their mental well-being if it gets her what she wants. She's not physically hurting them so that's fine, right? And, well, she did the same with Nicky. She loved him so desperately and also selfishly kept him isolated and kept killing in his name. There's a reason why she feels so guilty and can't face him now.

The parallels, tho. The episode starting with Evanora calling her a monster, and ending with her calling Wanda a monster.

Last episode!!!!

telling the kids to take cover as soon as she can get away with it. Wanted to hurt them my ass.

Pathetic! Are you even a real witch? Yep, her usual bit. And especially harsh too. Agatha is gambling a LOT here.

"The Scarlet Witch is not born, she is forged. She has no power, no need for incantation." Agatha was forged the same way, with pain and hellfire, does that give her a claim to Wanda's magic? (Also, power of mother earth on the poster behind? How very green witch!)

How hard and deliberately Agatha is working to traumatize Wanda even further, to make her believe she's a monster. And Agatha is in such an unique position to understand what Wanda is going through, what it means to be called evil for something you are and not for something you do. She knows what it means not being able to control your powers, Wanda never meant to hurt any of these people! She could teach her, offer her community and support. But what does Agatha do instead? Exactly what her mother did to her.

She wants to kill her to take her powers, and she wants to kill her because she's afraid of her. And yet she's also looking in a mirror. Doesn't her neck thingy look like a clergy collar too? She's on the other side of inquisition now.

have you ever read Passing by Nella Larsen? it made me think a lot about how marginalized communities isolate their most vulnerable members and recreate the dynamics of the oppressor, as a way to keep some form of control and also to express their trauma and anger. Wanda didn't do anything to Agatha, but she's the perfect target for Agatha to vent all her pain and anger and frustration.

Wanda tries to copy Agatha and make her relive her traumas, not a good idea trying to manipulate the master manipulator. Agatha has studied and observed and knows a lot about Wanda and that is why her manipulation is so effective, Wanda doesn't know Agatha at all, she's only heard lies so far. Here for example she assumes that Agatha killed the Salemites on purpose, she has no clue that their situations are so similar.

I told you that witches wouldn't accept you, that they would call you a monster and come after you. So much bitterness. That's Agatha's tragedy, and that is what's behind all her selfishness, killing witches, keeping Nicky isolated, torturing Wanda. Passing her trauma along. As much as she chose to be what she currently is... choosing the opposite would have been much easier if she had a community cherishing and teaching her. Just look at how much having an actual loving coven, even for a short time, will make a difference in the future.

and then Wanda wins not because she's more powerful but because Agatha couldn't stop herself from blabbing and showing off and teaching about runes. oh, the irony

what WANDA'S done???? Agatha, you've been poking a nexus being with a stick for days, you useless fuckup (affectionate)

lmaooo she fell ass up

LOOK WHO'S TALKING

Agatha under the spell immediately flirting with Wanda is maybe top five most hilarious things she's ever done

and that's a wrap! Ballad of the witches road here I come!

go to AAA part I

#wandavision #agatha all along #agatha harkness #character study #screenshots #wanda maximoff

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biblicallyaccuratecrow · 2 days ago

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rambling about songs my brain associates with isat (pt. 1)

[woe, spoilers be upon ye!]

i have a 250+ song isat playlist. I am unhealthily obsessed with finding new songs to put in it. Here's a few that make me go absolutely batshit insane.

I've already rambled about this one on my art account a while back, but this song is so insanely loop-coded....

I'm standing on a stage Of fear and self-doubt It's a hollow play, But they'll clap anyway

You could give me any song that has some kind of reference to plays or theatre and I could probably find a way to make it about isat. but specifically this makes me think about twohats and how loop views their place in the world as a performance, a pawn, not even a character but a plot device... yeah

I'm living in an age That calls darkness light Though my language is dead Still the shapes fill my head I'm living in an age Whose name I don't know Though the fear keeps me moving, Still my heart beats so slow

I probably don't have to break this one down for you, but yeah, Island North of Vaugarde, the forgotten language... "still the shapes fill my head" has always in my mind referenced the stars and constellations, and how they're familiar but foreign...

thanks to @/ricecaqes and their trust ceremony animatic, this song lives in my head rent free. Even just as a whole this song is SO isat for me. literally from the first fucking lines:

Will I know when I’ve gone too far? Or frozen myself in time? An impossible brain with impossible wants Lost and astray, with impossible thoughts

like. it really can't get much more nail on the head than that?

then you got this:

So cold, I’m freezing Every piece of praise and sign that I’m believed in Solid in a crystal ball It bends the waves of the light to mend the rest of my life

and literally the first time I heard this song i paused it and said, out loud, "OH FUCK." Because. it's act 5 siffrin. Like, the slow descent into despair followed by the determination that the only way to perserve the life and the family they love is to keep them with him, to do the exact same thing the king did...

Do you also see your future starting with the farthest part? Live your life to close the space between the end and start And when it’s hard, do you hang onto any chance That you might be in control? That you’re the one who owns

For one, once you reach the end of act 2, you're constantly aware of the head housemaiden being as far as you can go, and then you're planning around it the entire time.

And then, you have. siffrin grasping for any kind of control they can have over the situation, desperately. and failing repeatedly because they simultaneously think that they are undeserving of getting what they ultimately want... yeah...

i won't go into the rest of the lyrics because honestly it's pretty well covered by the animatic but. yeah trust ceremony my sweet beloved.

rest in peace siffrin no middle no last name, you would have loved the mountain goats.

yeah uh. this one is also pretty high up on songs that make me go "damn that's siffrin alright".

I am this great, unstable mass of blood and foam And no one in her right mind would make my home her home My heart's an autoclave

i think for me it's the idea of siffrin feeling like they're nothing, and even if they are something or someone, they are bad, worse than bad, worthless. also referencing homesickness.... yeah...

When I try to open up to you I get completely lost Houses swallowed by the earth, windows thick with frost And I reach deep down within, but the pathways twist and turn And there's no light anywhere, and nothing left to burn

I mean, this one is also pretty self-evident. siffrin losing hope while being stuck in the house... wanting to connect with the party but being completely uncapable of doing so out of the sheer terror of being left behind... act 5, with the house literally warping...

I dreamt that I was perched atop a throne of human skulls On a cliff above the ocean, howling wind and shrieking seagulls And the dream went on forever, one single static frame Sometimes you want to go where everybody knows your name

siffrin feels responsible for the loops, every aspect of them. their deaths, their party-member's deaths, their failures, everything. and in the end, all they really wanted was for someone to truly see them? to have a family, to not be left behind and forgotten by the world.... the importance of names and siffrin's name in particular in the story also makes this hit home for me.

for brevity's sake i'll just start with these three- if people are interested in hearing me justify my insane music choices i'll probably do more.... for now, see ya!

#isat #in stars and time #isat spoilers #in stars and time spoilers #rambling #brain dump #playlist #i love music #im so normal about it!#<- makes playlists for every conceivable circumstance #Spotify

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hestzhyen · 3 days ago

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Chapter 57 Cope Posting

Not like this, dear void... not like this. The blessing/curse of Kagurabachi chapters ending in 7 being absolute banger cliffhangers continues and there is not enough copium in the world to get me through to next week. This entry is an absolute mess...

Let's start with practicing on the editor's comments again. Sorry if the colours are hard to read on brighter backgrounds, I live in Dark Mode as much as possible.

First page: ハクリが飛宗の転送に成功! そして- [Hakuri ga Tobimune no tensou ni seikou! Soshite-, Hakuri successfully transfers Tobimune! And then-] Last page: 座村, 漆羽… 事態は混沌へ… [Samura, Uruha... jitai ha konton he..., Samura, Uruha... the situation turns chaotic...] noting that the word used for "situation", jitai (事態), specifically has negative connotations (as opposed to 状況 [joukyou], which is neutral).

These comments are rarely more than fluff just to give the editors some presence in the work itself, so I don't take them as definite indicators of anything going on in the plot. But man. Man. "Bad situation" seems to be putting it lightly. I was ready to take you off the list of possible traitors, Samura! I was seriously going to do it! Whyyyyyyyyyyy

Chihiro and the Pink Menace

Fine, first up... school?

How does our cast stack up to the average student after getting home schooled in murder and cool action poses?

It was obvious to everyone that this arc would involve Chihiro learning about the unpleasant sides of his dad's legacy. So this is just a "hey don't forget" moment for us that also highlights how far removed Hiruhiko and Chihiro are from regular society. Those two (and Hakuri) should be in their last year of high school, complaining about homework or stressing about their future college/job plans right now instead of fighting to the death. Poor guys.

I don't want to presume too much about Hokazono-sensei's views, but I really like directly acknowledging that winners write history and so their wartime cruelty is often downplayed or re-framed as heroism. These kids and even Chihiro only know the revised version of what happened, not the truth of the matter.

Home schooled Chihiro confirmed! Kinda!

Anyway, some more John Plan Reveal. He wants Chihiro to learn the truth about his father's legacy and the impact it's had- that's why he hasn't been "harvested" yet. This implies that there's some terrible thing that could upend Chihiro's entire worldview to be learned. But we kind of already knew that based on everything I just said.

I hope this isn't a flag for John trying to convince Chihiro to join him. There are awful secrets that are going to be unearthed about Kunishige and the Kamunabi this arc for sure, but it's kind of a waste of our time to do the "oooh it was worse than you thought why don't you join us to set things right" rigamarole.

Obviously the Hishaku have some compelling reasons to do all this if they can get someone as loath to kill as Samura on their side to murk his war buddies. It's just never gonna convince Chihiro so I hope we don't get a moralizing yapfest to accompany John's outstretched hand. I trust the writing though! So far it's been almost nothing but excellence so... chill, me. Just wait and see.

I think that no matter what happens Chihiro will continue to forge his own path with allies who care for him at his side. He won't choose the government's path, or the Hishaku's, or even his dad's- he'll create something new. Standard stuff for a shounen series but I never get tired of seeing it!

Before moving on to the coping session, there's something neat in this scene that I want to ramble about:

Local yapper yaps while the guy listening to him literally overthinks

I'll use the JP version if I have to, but I like how Chihiro's inner monologue deliberately overruns Hiruhiko's speech bubble to show that he's not paying full attention while his thoughts are in overdrive. He's still partially listening but he's not quite as composed as he appears to be on the outside, which is confirmed by the close-up zoom into his stressed look with the sweat drops. Yet when we zoom out, he seems a bit more put-together like usual. He's still exhausted from yesterday, man! Really should have rested up... at least the author acknowledges it. (Forced bed rest soon? Hopefully?)

This is how Hiruhiko was able to get the drop on Chihiro. Chihiro's got a lot on his mind and he has trouble focusing, just like Uruha chided him for on the train. His resolve is unshaken but he's still prone to wavering in the moment as he tries to process things. He even misses the fist time Samura's name was mentioned! Clearly Chihiro needs Hakuri or Uruha or someone there to yell encouragement at the right time to stop him from getting lost in his own head. But he's got a lot to think about and work through right now, so it's understandable why he's so stressed out.

Poor Chihiro. He's coming to the conclusions that we, the readers privileged with having weeks IRL to ponder new information, came to long ago. The Master is not treated like a hero but a prisoner, and probably for very, very good reasons. Ones good enough to convince Samura to make a deal with the devil.

What Actually Happened?!

Not all the blades have themes from nature, it seems. Geisha offered many different types of entertainment to guests, from performing music to conversation to serving sake. So now we have the idea behind the name [Swaying Sake]!

First up to delay just a little longer: Kumeyuri power reveal! Seems to be based in some kind of performing arts aesthetic with the geisha that were conjured. Fitting for the guy who wears kabuki eye make-up right? ...And for the next bearer, who interrupted a kabuki performance to pick it up in a theater... I see you and your foreshadowing, Hokazono-sensei.

Fine. I'll admit it. The ending of the chapter makes it crystal clear that Hiruhiko is the new bearer contracted to Kumeyuri by having his origami butterflies come undone as he grasps the hilt in his teeth. Can't even hope it's another case of someone "borrowing" power like Kyora did with the Shinuchi of the bunch.

Magatsumi's the only blade that can be used by someone not contracted to it, hence the extra protections it needed.

So that means... yeah. Uruha's gone. Just like that.

There will be thousands of theories about what exactly happened to Uruha, why Samura made a deal with John, what the details of that deal were- we'll get the truth soon. I'm most interested in the reasoning that ties into Samura's sincere beliefs of killing being an evil act.

The burden of death weighs so heavily on him that he blinded himself in penance. But he's willing to let his own apprentice die -probably even kill him himself!- because of... what? What was so horrible about fighting with the Master and Kunishige's weapons for the good of the nation? What compelled him to help the Hishaku kill the remaining bearers and upend the peace they earned?!

Hey, Samura. Is it really so bad to be called a war hero while being treated like a prisoner in a comfortable government-provided jail facility? Is it so horrible that "alternative facts" pass for real history to bury whatever horrors you witnessed and possibly perpetrated? Is it truly awful to have people willing to die for you despite all the grave sins you've committed? That they're likely completely unaware of thanks to government propaganda and being too young to have witnessed the truth?

...I need those Seitei War flashbacks pronto.

*----------------------------------------------------------------------------*

Wait a minute. Jail? Even the friggin' onsen?

Yup! The Master's the only one being treated like a dangerous criminal outright, but the 慚箱 [sanso] are just dressed up prisons for the Bearers. The Kamunabi ain't even subtle about it.

慚 [san] - to feel shame 箱 [sou] - box

The government put these guys in specially-constructed (or repurposed) buildings officially referred to as "shame boxes" and told them they couldn't leave. Even the name given to one of them is a bit much! 国獄温泉 [Kokugoku Onsen] translates to:

国 [koku]- country/state/national government 獄 [goku]- jail/prison 温泉 [onsen] - hot spring

Gee, I wonder if Uruha was having a good time at State Prison Hot Springs?

That said, while there may well be some bitterness between the Bearers and the Kamunabi, it's not the main motivating factor for Samura. His is definitely rooted in how they all acted during the war and how guilty he feels now that they're promoted as heroes.

*----------------------------------------------------------------------------*

It looks like Chihiro's being summoned by Hakuri in the very last panel so we might get some perspective on Samura's reasoning next week. Probably no clear answers right away, but at least enough to see if he really was the one who killed Uruha and a bit of insight into why. And to see if Uruha's dead at all... I mean, if we don't see a body... let me be delusional, okay?!

I'm just not able to go all-in on believing Uruha's dead. But it's not because I don't think he actually is... it just doesn't feel real after spending weeks preparing to let go of Samura. Not to mention the tried-and-true tactic of baiting out strong emotions with implied character deaths.

Normally I don't take death foreshadowing like this too seriously in shounen series. I just wait to see if the author is faking me out or not before getting stressed (unless it's Hakuri, in which case I stress responsibly). But Kagurabachi is a series that lured the MC with a child's severed leg and showed two suicide attempts on-screen, one of which was horrifically successful- right in front of someone who was already traumatized too. Hell we lost most of the anti-Kuregumo squad without much fanfare back in the Sojo arc! Only actually showing a child being tortured on-screen is too much, apparently. This series is dark as hell when the author wants it to be and Uruha's death is probably another one of those times.

There's hope in me that Uruha can still come out of this alive just because I like him so much, but I want the author to follow through on his death when it's presented as such an ominously real scenario. All signs point to Uruha being a goner, so don't make it look iron-clad then say "nah" the next chapter with some technicality that we couldn't have known about until the reveal. I would rather lose Uruha in an unexpectedly painful way than be faked out just to get the reaction out of me, y'know? Don't toy with me. Commit to crushing my heart, dammit.

But, God... oh man. I fell for the bait and got stupidly attached to a Bearer in the arc named after killing them. I even knew bad times were coming because of all the levity at the start of the arc but still went on hoping nothing would happen so soon. Laugh at me, I deserve it. I probably helped this manifest by mentioning how awful it would be if Chihiro found out a Bearer died because Hiruhiko was able to contract with one of the blades. Saying "I crave the angst that will come from this situation with every fiber of my being" in a post tag was overkill. It's just:

Author: names the arc after assassinating the bearers

Reader: gets attached anyway

Author: assassinates a bearer

Reader: ╚(•⌂•)╝

Coping Theory

May as well put my two cents in on how it could have gone down while I'm here...

I wonder if he planned to die in the raid instead so it looked like an unavoidable accident, sparing everyone else from the carnage.

This exact sequence- the Makizumi talking about honor in death for saving Samura, and Uruha's words that the Bearer's lives need to be valued above others'- is what solidifies Samura's resolve. This man is filled to the brim with guilt and self-loathing (much like another swordsman we know). He cannot save himself, but... perhaps he can take some equally bad sinners down with him for the greater good. He's not only a mirror for Hakuri, but Chihiro as well- one's resolve to save no matter the cost to one's self, and one's resolve to go to hell for what they believe is right. That's how I'm reading this until we get his own insight on the matter, at least.

It's not a stretch to infer that Samura thinks the Bearers are better off dead in large part due to the powers they command and things that were done during the war. That's still a huge mystery to be unraveled but I mean:

Seeing the bare minimum of Magatsumi in action really drives home how horrific these "heroes" could seem out on the battle field doesn't it? No wonder the clone sorcerer described the Seitei war as "hell on earth". But the public has no knowledge of this. They only got the sanitized version fit for PR purposes and feel-good stories.

The Hishaku seem to be intent on dismantling this image. Perhaps that's how they got Samura on their side? Not sure how the current Bearers dying and giving the Hishaku access to that dreadful power is better than the status quo, but that's something that will become clear with more reveals about the ideology driving the group. Maybe Samura doesn't care so much about the rest of the world and just wants to do what's best for the truth that's been buried under nearly two decade's worth of secrecy.

As to what happened with Uruha... two things come to mind. One I think is more likely, and one I want to cling to until it's ripped away as I sob and beg for just one little bit of comfort.

Most likely, I think Samura and Uruha had an exchange about ideals and the value of their lives. Samura overpowered Uruha per the plan as the "trump card" and that was that.

In delulu land, I want Samura to have been double-crossed. As in he made a deal on the condition that the lives of the people he cared about would be spared, but of course Uruha couldn't be allowed to live. So the Hishaku ensured that he'd die there no matter what. It's a bunk theory since Mr. Hatshaku left once the situation turned against him... maybe incorporate some of the datenseki mind control stuff in there somehow? I don't know. Just let me have this until canon proves otherwise.

Hakuri and Chihiro, Though?! And Miscellaneous Questions

(Ch. 46) I'm not going to be okay for a while and neither are they.

Best boys are really gonna go through it no matter what Chihiro is summoned back to. They'll be in a rough way... not only did they lose Uruha and hand Kumeyuri to Hiruhiko, but Samura betrayed them all... oof. So much for proving themselves to the Kamunabi. They're going to get an earful and be set back in the "negotiations" big time.

No doubt Chihiro will put this burden on his shoulders too, even if no one could have predicted Samura's defection to the enemy. It's his dad's legacy that's causing all this strife right now. He'll be more motivated than ever to unravel the war's true history and I'll be right there with him hoping he doesn't push himself too hard or harshly. The son shouldn't be responsible for the sins his father committed before he was even born. But that's just like, my opinion, man.

Meanwhile...

"I'm still good for it," wheezes the guy with blood gushing out of his nose at an alarming rate.

Hakuri will probably blame himself too. Depending on how things shake out, it could be for anything from accidentally arming a traitor to seeing someone die in front of him again. There's a good chance he'll (temporarily) lose the thing that makes him useful too, so that'll be an extra layer of angst for him to deal with. What value does a broken tool that couldn't fulfill it's one purpose have?

I also wonder what prompted Hakuri to summon Chihiro away from Hiruhiko. He's kind of in rough shape to do it just 'cause he misses his (boy)friend. They have cell phones to communicate with so it seems a bit abrupt to summon him back without checking first. Hakuri's also not the type to impose on someone to protect him. Nor is he the type to drop Chihiro into the middle of a life-or-death situation without a sense of mutual understanding first. So there had to be some kind of pressing need. The timeline of events means he's summoning Chihiro right after Uruha was killed, so... more soulmate stuff maybe? Their souls call out to each other and resonate when they're in distress, after all (it's canon baybeeeeee). They're in perfect harmony and all that. Sorry for the shipping nonsense I just need any bit of fluff I can get right now.

So many questions that might not get answered...

What about the Makizumi? Will they defect to serve Samura? Or will they try to help get Hakuri to safety with the Kamunabi? Samura doesn't want to kill them at all so no matter what happens they'll live at least. Hooray an elite squad that didn't bite the dust... (I think they will choose Samura because of everything he did for them).

How did Hiruhiko know when Kumeyuri was usable anyway?! Was it some signal from his mystery supporter that was lurking outside the window? And who was that- did Worst Jeanist show up?

Samura's loath to kill innocents, but does Hakuri count as one? Would losing his sorcery be enough to count him as neutralized for the Hishaku's purposes? Was exhausting Hakuri the main reason why Hiruhiko sent all the forces to the temple in the first place?

Hiruhiko wasn't surprised to see Tobimune disappear, so the Hishaku probably know about Hakuri's power. Their mole within the Kamunabi should get a bonus for the turnaround time on learning that bit of info and sending it on. Unless John's playing 5D chess and knew about Hakuri's awakening and team-up with Chihiro before they even met the Kamunabi anyway... perhaps even orchestrated it too... that would definitely need a very good explanation.

Alright. Okay. Let's wait on tenterhooks together, dear void. No waterworks until they show the body, got it?

[sob]

#kagurabachi #long post #More convinced than ever that the Seitei War was a civil war #Saving the Hakuri Development Arc prospects yap for another chapter or two to see exactly how all this plays out #But I think he'll be finding his own path between Samura Uruha and his family's just like Chihiro #Uruha... not like this...

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sharpth1ng · 12 hours ago

Note

Can we have a sneak of chapter 6? Don’t push urself btw, breaks are incredibly important

Thank youu🖤 ngl I hate taking breaks but unfortunately im only human.

Anyway, here's a snack, enjoy:

“What, so you’re fucking her again?” Billy spits, ripping his jacket off and shoving it at Stu’s chest.

He’s so jealous.

There’s a muscle jumping in his jaw and he’s clenching his fists hard enough to pop the veins on the backs of his hands, so basically he looks like pure sex. Stu's biting his lip now, it's not voluntary but it's also not defusing the situation at all because Billy’s lip is somehow curling further into his scowl.

“Tammy? Nah. Why’re you mad though?” Stu’s trying not to laugh openly as he hangs Billy’s jacket. He hasn’t seen him so bad since Casey and this is definitely worse. "You don’t want me, remember?”

“I’m. Not. Mad!” Billy’s yelling until he seems to catch himself, but even then he only brings it down to a snarl. “I don’t give a shit, I just thought you had higher standards but I guess I shouldn’t be surprised you’d give it up to whatever desperate whore is willing to fuck you in the ass!" That's the sentence that cracks Stu, so now the laughter is bursting up through his chest and pouring out of him. “-The hell are you laughing about??”

“I- Ha, shit-” He’s trying to say something, he really is but he can’t quite get it out and Billy responds by slamming one of his boots down on Stu’s socked foot. “FUCK!” It’s almost more startling than it is painful but it also does fucking hurt, enough to have his toes curling and his eyes scrunching shut when it hits.

“Tammy fucking Beckett??” Billy roars, cartoonishly red in the face. There might as well be steam coming of his ears.

“Yeah you really don’t sound mad screaming about her like that-” Billy stomps on his foot again, and fuck he should have seen that coming, right? He dropping down this time, clutching at his foot as the pain radiates up through his leg, so mind-numbing that he knows it’s only a matter of seconds before the warm-horny-fuzzies set in. Billy should know better by now. “Fuck, man I’m telling the truth, I’m not banging Tammy.”

“Then why was she here?” Billy sounds like he's auditioning for an interrogation scene.

“I mean, she’s kinda my best friend right now.” Its honest, but Billy visibly flinches when he says it.

“Best friend.” There’s something fragile about his voice as he says this and Stu feels bad for him almost as much as he thinks Billy might actually deserve a little hurt right now. “She’s your best friend?”

#chapter 6 sneak peek #wave of mutilation chapter 6 #wave of mutilation fanfic #wave of mutilation spoilers #stuilly #ask

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meteor752 · 2 days ago

Note

can we have more details about hermes x Odysseus? Please ~

More than happy to dearie

(Also you didn’t need to send the ask twice lol)

Since Ody is technically Hermes great grandson (*cough cough*), he’s known about his general existence long before he met him on Aeaea. He didn’t care that much about him tho, cause like if he gave a shit about every mortal offspring he had then he literally wouldn’t have time for anything else.

Still, hearing that Athena herself had taken an interest in one of his? Fascinating to be sure. Not enough to start giving a shit, but still, fascinating

And then, Poseidon. Hermes was of course the first to hear the news that Poseidon had attacked and killed over five hundred Greeks over one slight, and you know he spread that gossip to the rest of Olympus like fucking wildfire. But still, that makes two gods (one of which a member of the big three) that has taken an interest in some way in Odysseus. So it might be time to investigate

Hermes finds him and the remainder of his crew having washed up on Aeaea, which tickles him a bit. One of Athena’s “warriors”, seeking refuge on Circe’s island? Interesting choice indeed.

But Hermes takes his time to indulge in one of his favourite pastimes, spying on people. And sure, Odysseus does his fare share of moping there on the beach, but to the messenger gods surprise, despite all of the man’s losses, he takes action almost immediately, ordering some other guy to go scout out the island. And even though Hermes loves watching Circe trick and hex people, he doesn’t leave to go check that out. He stays, watching the mortal go about.

Hermes also takes the time to truly take notice how handsome the man is. He has a slightly short stature and lean build, just like any descendant of his, but he seems to have not let that stop him as he moves about with confident elegance. His hair is much darker than Hermes own, and despite being ruffled and damp from the sea water, the messenger god can see that it’s well cared for. Most of all, he takes notice of the mortals eyes, a deep rich brown, and despite the weariness and paranoia to be found in them, he still sees a small twinkle in them, a light that has not yet been snuffed out by his uncle.

Hermes could have watched the man for hours if he so desired, and so was a little pissed off when the other man from before came running and interrupted them.

But it was through that that Hermes got a chance to see another of Odysseus strengths, his way with words. Despite the frankly idiotic decision to land on Aeaea, the messenger god could clearly see his sister in the way he spoke. He was even more intrigued by the things he was saying, showing loyalty and honour, despite having a chance to escape the situation. Hermes himself never cared much about loyalty, but the fact that the mortal is willing to risk his own life and safety for his crew? He can’t help but be impressed

Until he realises that yeah his new favourite mortal is most definitely going to fucking die if he doesn’t do anything, so, he gets involved.

And if he’s a bit extra giddy when Odysseus says his name, if he flirts a little more than he usually does, if he holds him extra close when they dance, well that’s only for him to know.

Hermes keeps spying on Ody even after Circe, even going so far as to follow him to the underworld. Usually when mortals have extreme breakdowns and cursing the gods out, Hermes finds it kinda funny. It’s a good show. But, when his mortal does it (Because that’s what he is. He’s not Athenas, or Poseidons, he’s his. It was Hermes who saved him from Circe, it’s Hermes who’s keeping an eye on him, hell he would never have been born if it wasn’t for Hermes), it’s way less fun, and just upsetting.

Hermes keeps keeping watch as his mortal keeps getting worse. The sirens, Scylla, his mortals crew turning on him, Hermes witnesses it all. As much as he’d like to assist in some way, he was already in trouble with Zeus for his intervention on Aeaea, and that had been a pretty minor thing all things considered. Despite everything that occurs, he still sees that same twinkle remain in his eyes, that same light that Hermes treasures so.

Still, it was hard to not get absolutely pissed when that other man stabbed his mortal.

When Zeus got involved with his mortal and struck down his crew, Hermes lost sight of him. The messenger god spent seven years scouring the ocean for any trace of the king, but to no avail.

When he’d searched every single corner of the earth, Hermes through in the towel and finally did what he really didn’t want to do.

He asked his sister for help.

Despite how much it upset him, Athena had actually formed a divine bond with Odysseus, which made her capable of tracking him.

And find him she did. On Calypso’s island.

Fuck.

Luckily, Athena wanted him freed too, so Hermes didn’t have to grovel to Zeus himself. He would have done so if needed, but having Athena do ir for him was easier on his pride.

And he was more than happy that that was the case, as Athena got a lightning bolt to the face, and Hermes got the job of retrieving his mortal.

He’s never been as excited as he was, travelling to Ogygia, past the veil keeping the island hidden from the outside world. And, maybe he’s a little gloaty when he tells Calypso to release his mortal, but it’s difficult not to be. The goddess has spent seven years thinking that Odysseus belongs to her. Laughable, truly.

Hermes has spent years thinking about his mortal, missing his elegant stride, his beautiful hair, his lopsided cocky smile, his eyes. Yet, when he first get a look of him again after so many years, building his sad little raft, it’s nothing less than painful.

Because he’s wrong. The paranoia has settled in, making him jumpy and uncertain, and while his time on Ogygia had made him altogether more healthy, it was in a way that just didn’t fit. He looked almost uncomfortable in his own skin as he moved. And worst of all, his eye twinkle had all but vanished.

But all of his upsetting feelings vanished the second his mortal laid eyes on him, and his smile shone brighter than Apollo himself.

Hermes stayed by his side as long as he could warning him both about the dangers ahead, but also drinking in every moment his mortals attention was on him.

But even still, he eventually had to depart. He knew his uncle was waiting for a final chance to finish his mortal off. If Apollo was to be believed, Odysseus would survive the encounter, somehow, but that didn’t stop the rising anxiety Hermes felt as he said farewell to his mortal, taking his leave with a soft kiss.

~~~

I have many thoughts on Hermes, my favourite Greek god (Not my favourite overall god tho, Idun my beloved <3). Mans is most def extremely Not Normal about poor Ody, who did not ask for all this attention from the gods.

I do also imagine most gods to be extremely possessive, and do not like sharing, so Hermes isn’t too fond of the fact that like five other gods are vying for Odysseus attention.

He remains silly tho, stalker tendencies and all

#epic the musical #epic the circe saga #epic the vengeance saga #Epic Hermes #Eoic Odysseus #Hermes x Odysseus #Hermysseus #odyhermes #idk ship name lol #meteor answers an ask because they can

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blueishspace · 17 hours ago

Text

Shattered Pearl 10.3

(Prev) (Next) (First)

*False's pov*

Getting used to Saint's presence isn't easy, her presence is so suffocating that you have to move her outside.

She's also extremely difficult, not on purpose ...you hope... But she doesn't exactly understand human concept and that makes conversing hard.

Ren is having by far a worse time with it then you though he would, he's very much struggling with the current situation and you can see he's trying his hardest to not ask questions. You tried to explain it to him but you hardly know exactly what happened much less explain it to someone else... Eventually the curiosity becomes so much.

Ren: So... Saint?

Saint: Yes?

Ren: Uh... So ... what exactly happened to Pearl?

You are going to strangle him, what did you tell him not to do??! You sigh, at least Saint doesn't seem angered...just frozen.

Saint: She's not here. Gone.

Ren: Gone? Where did she go?

Saint: Shattered, fractured, split... Three parts of a whole given form-

She freezes again in what looks like deep thought...

Saint: No, there is another... A fainter presence. Four parts of a whole.

...

False: Four...parts?

Her face becomes serene once more... she nods gently and returns to what she was doing... Four parts huh.

#trafficblr #traffic smp #hermitblr #hermitcraft #empiresblr #empires smp #empires smp season 2 #rendog #falsesymmetry #pearlescentmoon #Shattered Pearl au

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quibbs126 · 14 hours ago

Text

So I have some more vague ideas of the stupid Transformers AU thing from last night

I think originally it was going to just fade away, but last night I decided I might as well rewatch the original FNAF timeline videos since Part 3 made me realize I didn’t entirely remember what was going on, and so the mentality came back to my brain at 3 or 4 in the morning because I accidentally woke up too early

Anyways, on to random stupid ideas

So Orion is some strange entity, and quite honestly even Primus doesn’t really know what he is, even though he’s pretty sure he created it. Fortunately Orion’s full cosmic horror seems to be locked away due to currently having a mortal shell. Orion just sort of popped out of the ground in the middle of nowhere

Also for some reason my brain gave me this idea that Orion has this ability to basically become a corpse for a few hours while he just chills out in some weird spirit form. I think my brain borrowed it from a concept I had seen around for Aligned continuity’s Thirteen

Also Orion is under the impression that he has amnesia, and is unaware of his weird cosmic status. He wants to know who he is but there’s problems in finding that information, as will be detailed later

After popping out from the ground, he sort of wandered until finding himself at the mines D-16 worked in, and stumbling in there unaware of anything really happening around him

D-16 heard weird noises in his sector and went to check it out, only to find Orion in some equipment and they both sort of freaked out at the sight of each other, D might have punched him out of reflex and shock, and Orion accidentally went corpse mode

D-16 now thinks he just accidentally killed this bot, which is made worse when he gets a good look at him and is 99% sure he is a higher class bot, on account of him being much smaller than the miners and having bright colors (which here would be like a symbol of class, duller/monochrome colors means you’re likely on the bottom rungs), and then later when he hears he has an actual name instead of a number. And if someone discovers he killed a higher class bot, he is at the very least getting fired and sent to prison, which he doesn’t want, so he hides the body so no one finds it and plans to dump it after his shift is over where he won’t be traced back to him

But later when he’s doing so, Orion reactivates and gives D-16 another huge scare, but this time he doesn’t attack because he realizes he probably shouldn’t try to repeat history, thinking maybe he was just mistaken the first time (despite him definitely looking dead)

He tries to figure out who Orion is so he can try and get him sent home (while apologizing for the whole situation), but Orion doesn’t know since he doesn’t really have any memories. D thinks he must have amnesia so he tries to smuggle him back somewhere until they can figure out what to do

Meanwhile Orion thinks he’s just made a friend

D first just tries sending him on a train to Iacon, but Orion refuses to leave without D, not understanding that he’s not really allowed to leave, and sneaks off the train to stay with him. He then tries to get information on Orion since he knows his name, though getting access to a database as a lowly miner is incredibly difficult, but he has no luck there since apparently Orion Pax doesn’t exist. Though he figures it may just be an issue of them having a limited database. And by this point going up to the guards isn’t gonna work because now he’ll be arrested for “kidnapping” a higher class bot

Basically the setup here is Orion hanging out with D-16 in the mines, with Orion trying to make his new friend happy, as he seems constantly stressed and generally miserable with his lot in life, while D-16 is trying to figure out who Orion is and how to get him back home without getting arrested

D admittedly grows to like the company of Orion, as he seems unaware of any sort of class difference between them and just genuinely wants to be his friend and be nice, but he also can’t deny that Orion’s unawareness makes his life a living nightmare now and things would probably be easier for the both of them if he just got back home

Orion also has this instinctual hatred for the government that he doesn’t quite understand (still a very corrupt Cybertron here), but will act upon. D-16 agrees that the government sucks, but hopes Orion doesn’t get into too much trouble defying it. Because he’ll be the one suffering the consequences

D-16 and the other miners are probably cogless, but they’re much bigger than the miners in TF One, with this D being closer to Megatron’s size. I’m not sure if Orion can transform or not though, but I do have a mental image of D just folding him up into a cube or something, harmlessly as he can easily pop out of it

I also don’t know how Optimus and Megatron come out of this scenario. Best I can say is that Orion unintentionally starts driving D-16 crazy as he finds no leads on who Orion Pax is, and becomes more and more convinced he isn’t actually real, or that he actually did kill him that first day and everything since has just been hallucinations and delusions. But I don’t know about Optimus since becoming Optimus probably means he can no longer be this chaotic little eldritch gremlin thing

And I think that’s about it. Now I have to go study for a quiz and probably start on that short story I have due tonight

#I don’t know if anyone will care for this #but here it is #I probably won’t do much with it since again it’s just a silly little thing #transformers #transformers au #orion pax #d 16 #random stuff

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tempestmothstorm · 2 hours ago

Text

"I think I would have just deleted myself if you didn't show up."

Yeah this is just straight up canon. But i have more thoughts though. So.

Like if you look into her dialogue is like abundantly clear that she’s just suicidal. It’s different from someone like Sayori who’s actively suicidal because she feels she is worse than everyone else, or Yuri who I don’t know is suicidal but has self harming tendencies she takes too far in act 2, or Natsuki who isn’t at all and is like “wtf are you guys ok”. The answer is no btw.

Monika’s whole outlook on it is that she has a lot of passive suicidal ideation that she pushes aside because she has to be the best. Her issue isn’t centered around her specifically being bad but instead a feeling of pointlessness with existing and the fact that the act existing itself puts burden on the world.

She’s also the type to make jokes about it, which I think is telling about her attitude about death, especially when compared to the others where the idea of dying is still terrifying and scary and something to hide. Meanwhile Monika acts casually as if people’s lives actually don’t matter. We all know her “left her hanging joke” and her general nonchalance with the other girls’ deaths, but the secret poem “A Joke” is probably written by Monika too, and the punchline is another reference to sayori’s death. The special poem about cutting is also by Monika, which shows that she would self harm if it weren’t for her needing to be the ‘responsible one’, and that she’d only do it again if she killed herself. She writes it as if it was a quirky relatable diary entry and not something deeply concerning, which in of itself is also deeply concerning.

There’s also the iiiiiiiiiiii.txt file that has her say that it would be “really easy to kill (herself) right now”. Reasonably the easiest way to do it would be to delete herself. While her constantly reminding the player how easy it would be to delete her is supposed to be a hint on what to do next, it does say something about her when she constantly fixates on it, almost as if she’d thought about it. Like a lot. She thinks about suicide and mental illness just as much too. Also a lot. And existential philosophy a lot. And death too. Again. A lot.

Her friends aside, she clearly just thinks about these things on her own, which implies some real bad things about her mental health considering literally everything else we know about her. Like it’s pretty obvious she’s not ok base game. And yet she doesn’t go through, in fact actively avoiding getting deleted because she still wants to see you. Because you are her only hope.

While her attachment to the player has like a dozen factors influencing it, I think a lot of it is also connected to her more suicidal ideas. She does emphasize that you “saved her” a lot in act 3 and while it mean saving her from her reality, knowing some of the other talks, it also could have saved her from giving up entirely.

Not to get too repetitive about how her life sucks, but like she really has no reason to exist in her eyes post epiphany. Nothing outside the literature club exists, there’s no past or future, everything is fake and has no consequence on the real world, and worst of all she’s completely alone with whatever connections she could have being fake. I think this one quote from her “introverts” talk basically sums up her situation:

"You know, I really do think you literally saved my life by being here with me, [player]."

"I can't imagine having been able to keep myself mentally stable, knowing that nothing here is real."

"I think I would have just deleted myself if you didn't show up."

"Sorry, i don't mean to sound dramatic or anything."

"Ahaha!"

"But I'm sure you understand yourself after spending so much time in the club."

"I mean, if you were forced to abandon everything in your life and spend your eternity with a few game characters..."

"...You'd probably find some way of killing yourself, wouldn't you?"

But yeah something something the connections you have with others gives life meaning and when the relationships she did have turned out to be false, she reached out to you, whose love could be real and whose existence as a real person is the only thing that could give her life meaning.

Another Monika talk that’s relevant would be the “No reason to be alive” talk. I’m not posting the entire thing here because it’s too long but the entire thing is pretty relevant. In it she talks about how living is pointless because you probably aren’t special and your existence alone takes up dozens of resources that isn’t worth wasting.

This highlights two factors that I think influence her thought process. One is that she feels like existence is worthless and likely won’t affect society at large, and with the whole being a video game thing the connection is obvious. The other is that she worries about how much of a burden she is on society. She wants to earn her right to exist in this world. When her reality doesn’t exist, this specific framework doesn’t seem that relevant, but when it comes to being a burden to others this ends up becoming a lot more alarming (and also creates another Sayori parallel yayyyyyyy)

Notably she mentions the key to happiness is to live selfishly and just look out for yourself and your friends. This can’t really apply in her own reality when she can’t see her friends as sentient, but when it comes to you, she can deliver just fine. She says she want to “live (her) life desperately striving to pay back (her) lifetime's worth of consumption” and with her own reality being pointless, paying back the people around her (you) is the next best thing.

But what if she failed to

"Of course, even if I fail to do that..."

"I think I would be too selfish to kill myself anyway."

"So much for being a good person, right?"

Sure thing buddy.

Another thing i want to mention is that it’s implied that these thoughts aren’t new. Like with some of these talks it’s ambiguous whether these ideas came pre or post epiphany. With her whole nihilistic thinking in base game contrasting side stories, it wouldn’t be that surprising if her thoughts got a whole lot more cynical over time. But she does seem to talk as if she’s thought about them for a while, while the epiphany was apparently recent in her memory.

For example in the “Dying” talk:

“It's something I used to think about pretty often..."

And in the “No reason to be alive” talk

"But the older I get, the more I realize that it's an immature frame of thinking."

Uh yeah these ideas aren’t new.

Of course it was probably taken to an extreme post epiphany and thinking about existential topics is normal. By itself it’s probably not some secret sign of mental illness, or at least not anything severe. (Sure she talks about a lot of stuff like mental health issues but it doesn’t really reflect on her, it just shows she can understand others perspective. Like she can talk about the introvert experience without being an introvert. Idk she’s just very empathetic and reflects a lot on the world. Makes her epiphany a lot more ironic though. So.)

But her post epiphany persona was very much built on preexisting ideas she had before that. It might not be that serious, but the fact that it’s there at all is concerning knowing what we do. The implications that come if this is all true is facilitating tbh and it honestly makes the side stories more interesting too. Like her whole “i have to be the best” attitude is probably connected to all her worries about being a burden or worthless.

And her whole thing in trust becomes a lot more layered too. The standard she holds for herself are not carried over to Sayori, who she sees as deserving of life just by being herself. She doesn’t want to be a burden or distract from Sayori’s problems, because her own true self isn’t good enough. Sayori is reassured that her existence is valuable and that she isn’t being a burden, something that goes against Monika’s entire act 3 talk yet is some she believes wholeheartedly.

This is also contrasted by base game where she straight up jokes about her death because death barely matters to her either. In base game, Sayori doesn’t matter, she isn’t special or even sentient, just a pile of code that gets in the way of Monika’s plans to reach the player. In base game Sayori is worthless and a burden, where Monika’s worldview has extended to everyone else. Yet in side stories she doesn’t think that, her standards only applies to herself because she loves her friends, they are what give her life meaning. Of course they deserve to live. They don’t need to prove their worth.

She’s a hypocrite because she values her friends more than anything. Again, the Sayori parallels are obvious from this angle, she has these exact same thoughts, with the only difference being that base game Monika projects her fears of worthlessness onto everything else while sides stories has her a lot more similar to Sayori.

Now the difference between side stories Monika and base game is really just how far their ideals reach, because normally Monika is like ok mentally , while in base game she’s suicidal along with everything else. Forget her saying she’s too selfish to do it cause it’s heavily implied she does do it in other universes.

Speaking of which I never hear people mention the MES emails in this cause a singular line puts into perspective how influential the player’s presence is on Monika and just how bad her mental health is. She is the MES’ guinea pig that everyone wants to see suffer (actually I don’t know how common knowledge this is I just got here and mostly stick to tumblr so idk)

So with the Side Stories MES email i think with all the lore drops we sorta forgot some of the more self explanatory info, including the fact that they have multiple VMs of ddlc and that there were “3 or 4 of them created and then destroyed by Monika”

While most people conclude this is just a reference to base game i think a lot of people dismiss that fact that these aren’t the game VMs, these VMs have no access to a player. Yknow. The player she relies on that supposedly saved her life.

Yeah i think she just deletes everything including her in apparently 4 separate universes. She kills her self in 4 universes.

She deletes everything in act 3 too but specifically because they get in her way between you, and the only reason she doesn’t delete herself there is that she still wants to see you. When the idea of reaching you is crushed, she gives in. By act 4 she ends up like all the other VMs, deleting everything knowing she can’t have you, can’t have reality. I mean the only thing keeping her going is the dream of reaching reality and finding real connections to people, and the idea that her existence will forever be meaningless probably pushed her to the extreme.

The player is the only real person who can give her life meaning and value, and in a world where the rest are seemingly fake, you’re also the only human connection she has. Again, the things that keep her going is her life being valuable in some way and the people around her. Post epiphany she only has you to care for with everyone else being thrown to the wayside without consideration of their own wellbeing.

So of course in act 4, where her connect to you is severed and she is suddenly aware of the harm she’s caused, she’s the lowest she’s ever been. Her reason for living is to be there for her friends and somehow pay back reality for how much she’s taken. And yet she let her friends die and let herself use them for her own selfish gain. She failed them, and has therefore become someone she see as not deserving of life. And with her last hope of the player rejecting her reach, she has no reason to keep going. So in the Easter egg where the player tries to bring her file back after deletion, she refuses to follow. She doesn’t deserve to intrude on their happy ending. She doesn’t deserve to come back.

And she doesn’t.

In future games she’ll probably return though, and with all the secret files and her motivations in the normal ending, I feel like it’s going to be for redemption by finally being there for her club.

She sticks around because no matter how much guilt she feels about just existing, she still wants to be there for her friends. Because while a lot of the act 3 dialogue was not meant to be something people agree with, there was one thing that I feel like is good if you look at it in the right way. Maybe people can’t pay back for the lifetime of consumption they’ve done just by living, but people can pay back and be worth existing just by looking out for their friends and those closest to them. Even if there can be doubts about life and existence as a whole, it doesn’t matter in the end when there’s joy to be found in the people you care about. Even if you make mistakes or hurt them, you can still find a way to make it up to them, to still deserve happiness in the end. The one thing that makes life worth it is the bonds you form with others. Because the people around you are what give life meaning.

She can’t let go and she can’t give up because she still has people she loves and wants to protect. So she’ll keep living for the people she loves. That’s all she needs to do in this world to make it worth living.

I hope she succeeds.

(Side note i took a lot of the Monika talk examples from this post. I did have my own ideas even before i read the doc and I already knew about this stuff anyways i just don’t wanna scroll through the entire wiki again to see all the Monika talks and this is pretty comprehensive. The extra imput is also useful so yeah)(anyways thanks for reading this really long tumblr essay. Good job and drink water ;D)

i would like to bring up that monika has probably considered deleting herself before

like staring at a high cliffside and getting the urge to jump

#analysis #IM SORRY THIS IS SO LONG I JUST HAVE A LOT OF THOUGHTS OK #actually why am I apologizing everyone needs to see more Monika analysis #this would have been posted sooner but I’ve been busy~#also a large part of my edits just got erased and I’m still salty about that #I think I can trace my desire to end every analysis with an existential hopecore message back to school where my teachers would always give #me good grades for connecting the paragraph back to some profound message about life so I’d keep doing it #anyways *thunder sfx* you should love and cherish yourself NOW #reblog #ddlc #doki doki literature club #tw sui talk #is that the tag?????????

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