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yinyuedijun · 4 months ago

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TOKYO VICE | glossary and notes

hi this is my extended author's note for my unserious yandere suo fic (which will be posted very shortly after this). deeply sorry if you read all that. see below for vocab and world-building delusions!

Disclaimer: I am not fluent in Japanese, have only spent very limited time in Japan’s red light districts, and definitely have no association with Japanese criminal organisations. Thus, I cannot promise 100% accuracy of the below lol. However, I have tried to understand and briefly describe these terms to the best of my abilities. Take it all with a grain of salt!

YAKUZA TERMS/NOTES

yakuza organisations have familial hierarchies in place, so familial terms are often used between members:

aniki – term to address an older brother (or an older male in the organisation, in suo’s case)

anesan – term to address an older sister; this is used for wives of yakuza members, especially high-ranking members. yakuza do maintain certain principles/ethics, and apparently one is that the wife of another member can’t be touched. this is partly why suo likes to call you his wife (for protection purposes), but he’s also just wants to marry you lol

oyassan – term to address one’s father (or the head of the organisation, in suo’s case)

oyabun – literally “parent figure” (head of the organisation)

chinpira – rookie yakuza; also used for petty criminals. I got the impression that these guys would be the ones doing street-level grunt work

irezumi – a particular style of tattoos that yakuza members get. they are strongly associated with yakuza membership in Japan (unlike in western countries where people may get them for aesthetic reasons). examples:

han-gure – non-yakuza criminal organisation, which may include delinquents, colour gangs, etc. interestingly, it came up in some of the documentaries that I watched that some people perceive yakuza as necessary evils because they suppress and/or minimise activity by han-gure, which are seen as causing more trouble for civilians.

relating to the ethical code followed (in theory) by yakuza – although yakuza are violent criminals, there are also ideals of chivalrous behaviour and protecting the weak among yakuza. (this is, for example, why yakuza organisations will donate aid/resources during major disasters.) this reminded me quite a bit of bofurin, and I came across some real-life cases where members of the yakuza were previously delinquents, so I thought it was fitting that the yakuza might try to recruit from bofurin in the fic.

I saw some opinions from older ex-yakuza members that current organisations do not really strive toward these honourable values, and that yakuza are too money-driven these days. I think it made a lot of sense for suo (due to his general disposition and time in bofurin) to adhere very strongly to these ethical codes and endear himself to older gang leaders this way.

one of the reasons that yakuza are nowadays considered less relevant is apparently because japanese policing of petty crime is so strong nowadays. in previous decades, when law enforcement was much weaker, yakuza actually did (or at least, were described to) play a major part in suppressing petty crime or criminal violence toward civilians. this, again, reminded me of bofurin – the police are essentially implied to have given up on makochi, and bofurin formed in order to suppress petty and/or violent crime instead. I assume that this applies to the nearby red light district as well, since roppo-ichiza formed in response to crime on keisei street. it stood to reason to me that this would create a situation where a yakuza family could become extremely socially dominant, and where these old-fashioned ethical codes would actually be quite relevant. this is why suo is so well-known within the red light district and well-respected by his peers.

some yakuza organisations, also as part of an ethical code, do not involve themselves in businesses such as drug trafficking. I didn’t personally come across anything implying that sex trafficking was banned by any ethical codes, but narratively I think it made a lot of sense that suo wants no business with it after what the reader went through.

on the note of sex trafficking – apparently a lot of sex trafficking and sex work-adjacent professions in japan affect runaway teenage girls specifically, which this reader does qualify as. this is why her backstory got so dark as I was developing the storyline for this yakuza au (I did not initially put her into mizu shobai work for such a narratively significant reason though lol – I just thought the mental image of smuggling three delinquents into the washroom of a girls’ bar was very funny when I was writing Sincerity)

MIZU SHOBAI TERMS/NOTES

Mizu shobai or “water business” – euphemism for certain types of jobs in the entertainment industry, especially those pertaining to nightlife (including girls’ bars and hostess clubs). yakuza are known for their involvement with mizu shobai establishments.

Girls’ bar – bars where the bartenders are all women, who will make conversation with (male) customers as they serve drinks.

Hostess bars – bars or clubs where women will accompany individual or groups of (male) customers as they drink, making conversation, singing karaoke, etc. they are not sex workers and are not allowed to have sex with customers (nor is touching generally allowed). in the interest of not misrepresenting this line of work, I want to be very clear that the reader is having sex with her customers not as an industry standard practice, but because something is extremely wrong with her situation (financially, socially, and mentally).

Douhan – dinner dates that hostesses may go on with customers.

Kyabakura – a portmanteau of “carabaret” and “club”, these are a type of hostess clubs. kyabakura establishments tend to employ younger girls in comparison to high end clubs.

High end clubs – much pricier than kyabakura, with much greater earnings for the hostesses themselves; I got the sense during researching that these tend to be extremely competitive environments for the hostesses.

Mamasan – a “head hostess” who will typically manage girls, and or even manage the club itself. since the reader is working at clubs run by criminal organisations, the mamasans are not the actual owners.

#yueshuo

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love-and-deepspace-wiki · 2 months ago

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In-Game Medical Terms Glossary

There are a handful of terms, procedures, medications, etc. that are unique to the in-game world. As I find them in game and identify their details, I'll post them in this glossary!

Clopidogrel:

A drug that inhibits a receptor needed for platelet activation. There's a squirrel in Akso Hospital's garden that Zayne named after it. It stops by the either floor window for nuts.

Cryozina Implant:

(TBD)

Type-A Cryozina Implant: A device used to prevent residual Metaflux from further affecting the patient's heart if it has entered the bloodstream. Needs to be replaced regularly.

Draumril:

A pill taken to remedy insufficient sleep and/or poor sleep quality.

Lemurian Cardiac Microvascular Endothelial Cells (LCMECs):

A type of immortalized cells. They're not uncommon in the microscopic world.

Protocore Syndrome:

A unique disease caused by Protocores. There are different types, and they harm the human body in various ways. Currently, the known types are A, E, and Y.

Type-Y Protocore Syndrome: A syndrome that involves Metaflux that hides in various organs and systems, with a long latency period and slow progression. By the time it's detected, it's often too late. There is currently no known cure.

#love and deepspace #lads #lads linkon city #linkon city #lads akso hospital #love and deepspace akso hospital #linkon central hospital #akso hospital

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outsidersweek · 2 months ago

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Fandom Glossary Part 2

Part 1 here. Most of these terms can be found on Fanlore

Squick: a type of fanwork that makes you viscerally uncomfortable. This is not a judgement but a preference, ex: "ABO squicks me so I don't read it."

OOC: "Out of character", when a fanwork has a character think, act, behave in a way that is in contrast to how they are in canon. AKA, "He would not fucking say that". Ex, a fic that has Sodapop acts very low-energy and mean.

OC: "Original Character" a character that a fan has made up that does not appear in the source material. ex, "This is my OC Lou who is a mean old greaser!"

Fluff: A fanwork that is pleasant and feel-good. Generally the opposite of Angst.

Angst: A fanwork that is generally darker in tone or content. Characters will probably suffer in some way. Generally the opposite of Fluff.

Darkfic: Similar to angst, darkfic fanwork that deals with graphic or disturbing material. It is usually more intense than angst. This type of fic will not be allowed during Outsiders Week.

Retcon: Short for "retroactive continuity", later canon material that replaces previously established canon. Ex, That Was Then This Is Now retcons that there are lots of hippies in Tulsa, when they were not mentioned in The Outsiders

DL;DR: short for "Don't Like, Don't Read". The idea that if you see fanwork you don't think you'll like, you shouldn't engage with it.

YMMV: short for "Your mileage may vary". Similar to squick and dl;dr, the idea that everyone has different tastes when it comes to fanwork, so what someone else loves you just may not like.

Trigger Warning: also called a "content warning", it is a warning a creator puts on a work to let readers know the work involves content that may be upsetting or disturbing to them. It is generally considered polite to add trigger warnings. Ex, "TW: drug use"

Dead Dove: Do Not Eat: also referred to as "Dead Dove" or "DD:DNE" a fanfiction that involves especially dark or "problematic" topics, such as abuse, incest, rape, etc. Can be a type of darkfic. A Dead Dove fic may not condemn or subvert the tropes it uses. "Dead Dove" is also a type of trigger warning used to mean "this fic is clearly labeled and warned for, so you know what you're getting into if you choose to open it." This type of fic will not be allowed during Outsiders Week.

#outsiders week #fandom vocabulary #mod post #resource

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yonpote · 11 months ago

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i am currently trying to work on a phandom glossary in which i just. define terms and acronyms and stuff like that. cuz like, what the hell is a demon phannie. why are there so many fucking acronyms. drug deal?????? huh???????

#it's going very slow maybe i will ask some ppl to help w this :')#bc i do want it to be like #thorough? i guess?#mytext

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lesbianslvt666 · 2 years ago

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Sea monster and treasures

pt 0

captain! Ellie x pirate! Reader

In which instead of finding your brother in a pirate crew, you end up fighting the Ellie Williams, the infamous pirate. however, fighting would not be the end goal, for Ellie longs for something deep, every time she sees you.

Content warning: swearing, smoking, mentions of drugs and alcohol, burglary, fights, swords, denigration, abandonment issues, a bit of gore, you aren't the good guy, neither is Ellie lol. Morally grey characters tbh.

Small glossary at the end for some of the lingo here, (if we don’t like it I can change it no worries ;)

The loud howls of the village roared, the light of the fires mirrored the intensity of the fear and madness of the ones protecting their land.

In the faint outline of the shore, what it felt like a thousand marauders raced toward land, like crazy hyenas, hysteric to get further in.

They were fighting everyone they encountered, they were screaming and gushing everyone they saw, two rushed to you.

Looking down at them couldn’t stop the small chuckle you let, yanking the rails of Callous, you rushed the horse further in, pushing past and beating down whoever tried to get you off him.

After shoving one of them, you heard a familiar voice screaming, finally looking forward, the man himself. your brother looked at you, his face beaten up, the scraps of clothes opened revealing the grandiose amount of jewels he carried around his neck.

"Yo ho! Ye!" you extended your arm as if to touch his skinny form, his attention darting to you, like an arrow, gleaming eyes, thinking he could get your jewels or at least something to fight.

His approach was faster than a lighting on a diluvium night, striking almost as fast as he got near you.

Without a care, your feet got planted on the ground beneath, taking the sword you have been hiding in between the scraps of skirts you had put on.

the bright body of it gleaming in both eyes, for him had only a blade. He went all the way, punching forward, scratching with his blade the skin of your arm.

the crimson blood sparking with fury out of his nose after the hook you pulled, and for a moment he saw the sand, thinking he could win over you.

yet, you took the moment to push your leg forward, sending a strong punch to his stomach, however, your confidence was the reason for your blow, not realizing he was ready to take your foot with both his hands, twisting it hard enough to get you on your knees right on the sand, his tall figure towering over you now, too in trance with your jewellery to realize that his own blade had been claimed by your right hand, pushing as a threat on his neck, slouching backwards give you the momentum to swing him to his back, now on top of him, his weary eyes twinkled with something, recognition.

"me lass?" his expression cut by the piercing sting your closed fist gave his eye. "eye" your voice fell quieter, a pinching knot in your stomach bubbled with the rage of the seven seas, like a storm erupting form the pit of your pain.

"how dare ye tar, leaving me behind, for you knew I could go with you, could do what ye do, could tar the way you all do!" his eyes, big as the moon, his mouth slow to talk, for another voice came down before his own.

"ye wench, think ye could do a better job than my best tar?"

the blow given to your back strong like a wave, kicking you down to the grainy sand, rocking your body with such a force that it felt like you fell in shattered glass, for the woman who spoke was now the one on top of you, a lock of your hair trapped in between her fingers, with her other hand roaming around your hip, as to check for any other hidden weapon, but really as petty excuse to touch you a bit more.

"who ye think ye are lass, ye scurvy dog" and with all the force left from all the fighting before, you yanked your legs from in between hers to twist her to her side, now topping again the woman insulting you, putting a blade hidden in between all your necklaces, her beautiful face gleaming with something, breath heavy, cherry lips intoxicating your view, her shaggy clothes almost opening with the way you were painfully swinging the blade up her chest to her neck, too close to her face.

"let me join ye hands ye old salt and I'll let ye go" your eyes waltzing all over her delicious features, you knew it was her, you knew she was the captain, you recognized her face even only from tale tales, and for her smile brightened the shadow you casted over her silhouette.

Her wondering hands flowing naturally from base of your knees to up your thighs to rest on the curve of your hips, feeling goosebumps all over your body, like a cold breeze chilling all thought in your head, stopping you from working as fast as you would have.

Taking advantage of that, she pushed past you, with the force of her hands on your hips, a loud thud was all you’re her and her faint voice like a fog saying "take a caulk princess."

The cold floor smelled like salt and dead fish, your mouth tasted like iron and rum.

Your hands flew to your face, trying to get the haziness of your sight, however, pressing upon your eyes revealed a sting that travelled to the head ache that you were getting accustomed too, the bloody nose and the busted lip didn’t do much to help you.

the creak of the chamber door opened, revealing a bitten up scrappy boy, a mare resemblance of the brother you remembered, his warry eyes softened as soon as he saw you awake, his shoulders falling as to relax the pit of guilt building on his stomach.

"blimey, ye lass, I thought she would kill ye!" the way he approached carefully your cell sent a warm in your heart, he acted like the last time you saw him.

"how did ye found me?" his eyebrows raced, almost to touch his hairline.

"finding a nobody is hard, but following Williams's trace is a bit easier" your voice raspy from the harshness you were treated the day before and the screams you let out while getting small glimpses of consciousness.

"I am happy ye are 'ere now…" his eyes fell to the ground, dragging with weight of his shame and the pain of his guilt, seeping form is fingers in shapes of sweat, whipping it on the scraps of fabric he called clothes.

"ye look tired…" your eyes floating his shape as too take his new being in, like a picture of his state, because even if his body looked more scrawny, his demeanour felt brighter like a sun at its peak.

"well… I guess is time to confess, for I paid a good amount of gold to two people, to follow ye and send me details of ye’r being, for I guess they were lying to me this whole time, they told me last year ye were fathom deep, I felt about to feed the fish. Ellie saved me from that, making sure I came down to my senses once in a while, and that is when I met a beautiful sailor! I would like to introduce ye two…"

his hands were holding on the bars, mirroring the stability your smile and warm eyes gave him.

"I missed ye…" his eyes now glued to the cracked wood beneath his feet as if to hide the stubborn gleaming droplets that fell from his eyes.

"then why'd ye left me behind??" the shakiness in your voice calling for his sight coming to go upwards, locking with your now glossy eyes, pain meeting guilt.

Before he could answer you, the loud thud of the door like thunder being opened startle both, jumping slightly and stopping the heart to heart moment, and before the question that had been marinating in your aching chest for the past three years, her voice dismissed your brother.

Stepping closer to your, pressing the ground underneath her shoes with such a grace.

"ye beautiful wench, what would we do with ye, ye know, ye’r brother has plead to me not to make ye walk the plank, so..."

her floating like walk took her right in front of your cell, looking at you from head to toe, smiling wide like tressure finding, her eyes bright like a cat seen its pray mare inches to her catch.

With a swift motion she opened the cell door, fastening to get inside, almost moving as intoxicating as the fog in between the ocean waves, hazy eyes meeting her own, hands exploring the fabrics that adorned your body.

"so show me princess, what does yer delicate hands can do…"

grabbing you roughly by your waist, pressing you to herself, feeling your breast clash with her own, a whimper scaping your mouth and a groan of her own.

"we are alone here dove" a feather like contact her lips gave your ear, made you sigh, mind going blank, only wanting for her to touch more and more.

you knew the rules in the sea didn’t applied like the land ones, for you could freely roam with your hands around her the way your needy cunt plead you to, however, you didn’t know how to behave around Ellie, you knew she was everchanging.

with fear of getting her mind to change if you did the smallest movement for her dislike, you choose upon your words.

"all ye need them to do, give me a command and ill attend to it." her smile sharp on your neck, striking with her fiery breath the skin in front of her.

"put your hands on my body as ye please…" the lust clouding your vision and the need of her, lowered from your mind to in between your legs, pressing them together when she attached her lips to your collarbones, kissing and liking, but not marking you just jet.

her body vibrating with a frustrated expression helped you remember your task at hand, roaming at first towards her hips, imitating her movement earlier by bringing her with force toward your own crotch, the hum she gave in response ignited something deep inside of you, like a wild fire that burned the valleys that your reason was.

your hands travelled all the way up, taking our time on her waist but the final goal was her breast, and when you reach for them she pushed you to the wall behind you, taking your hands in between hers, one leg pressed between your legs.

"oh I knew we both wanted this, but I wasn’t expecting ye to be such a good girl."

"Sail Ho!" the screechy sound of the warning screaming cut off the steam radiating from both bodies, however, Ellie didn’t wanted to stop any time soon. "yellow jack 'em, Jesse. YELLOW JACK!"

her hands leaving you, the fire catching flames from her lack of contact, walking towards the entrance door she looked back at you.

"Dove, yer job until I choose yer position. Ye'll swab, ye'll be the only one bringing me food and me rum." and like you were merely the ghost of a memory she left the chambers, leaving both the door of your cell and the entrance open, you took your time to come aboard for the first time, finally to be part of the Sea Monster.

Your eyes squinted in sharp pain from the sudden burst for the intensity the sun beamed in the sky, everyone moving from side to side, fulfilling their job and singing, obvious drunkards stumbling around trying to get their tasks over with.

Behind you, your name was called by a tanned and beautiful girl, standing proud on deck, her feet planted like strong trees on nurturing soil.

"Yer brother talks a lot about ye less!" her smile glowing with delight, "aye, that’s me, who might you be?" my own imitating hers.

"Dina." her reply short almost playful, yet she remained focus "okay sun, Captain told me ye would swab and take her food, I'll show were everything is at and all ye have to do. after that I'll take ye to the cooks, they'll tell ye how Cap likes her food" she now looked back at you, challenging like you were to battle. "savvy?"

The sun was now setting, your neck aching with sharp punctures like small needles kissing you with despair.

Your entire body almost collapsing in pain and exhaustion. The first plate of the day you took to the cabin. the captain was nowhere to be seen, probably on deck or somewhere around. Now, she was in front of you.

sailors only get one meal a day, like you now, the higher the rank, the more you could eat, your brother had two meals, however, Ellie… she could ask for a meal any time of the day and it was handed to her, although, most of the days she only took two, like today…

and that’s how you were now standing with her plate, the sun setting, its light beaming with force behind you, to Ellie, sitting behind her desk, separating you two.

it seemed like the glow radiated form within you, mirroring the intense something she felt in her chest every time she got near you.

Both staring at each other, not really daring to speak, your walk careful, waltzing towards her with the plate in your hand, she already serving her rum.

two glasses…

Your eyes never leaving hers, the pull you felt towards her, hard like the same gravity keeping your feet on the ground, your mind gravitating in her direction.

Her arm reaching for your wrist, the plate already sitting in front of her and you felt the urge to just seat in her spread thighs, the way she was siting, inviting for you to either straddle her or just kneel in between her legs, but, you remained there, planted like a scared mouse, being preyed upon by a cat, her sharp green eyes drinking you in.

the way you skirt rode up your thigh from carrying buckets all day long, the way your messy locks were tied behind you head but the front straight hairs framed your face, and of course, the way your breast felt like they were going to spill out of your dishevelled blouse, all perfect for her…

And for a second you thought it was your time to go.

you couldn’t… her hand holding you tight, dragging you to get closer. Giving you the other glass of rum.

"drink it treasure, ye' can leave afterwards." her voice buttery and intoxicating, if it was poison you would've drink the vessel dry.

her hands now moving to your hips, oh how she was containing herself now.

She was the captain for the past three years, normally people were terrified of her anger, gleaming on top of her like a sun that shone with the force of losing her caretaker, the only men ever who helped her since child.

She hated the world, Joel was the thing keeping her sane, and when they took him away from her. She sworn to bring havoc amongst the people and to however crossed her path against being what he wanted to become.

she was taking his dream and making it a reality, he needed his name to be heard amongst the seven seas, and as far as we know hers already was, and so was Joels Precious ship.

You took the rum and gulped it down, needing a way to drown your thoughts, the intensity of her presence feeling like too much, your body tingly.

However, she took that as an offence, seen as if you wanted to leave as fast as possible, her narrowed eyes confusing you.

"so ye' want to leave?" standing from her chair, now towering over your frame, making you feel trivial like a an ant. "no?" your voice small, emulating the way you felt. "ye' know…"

her face now inches close to you, feeling her agitated and drunk breath. "ye' 'rnt even my type anyway" your head crooked to the side, the confusion plaguing the features in your face, crunching them together.

"the fuck ye' talking to me like that for?" the confusion become anger, the anger become madness, as you two launched to each other, your fist slamming against her beautiful face, a cut appearing in her lip, her low blow targeting your stomach.

your exhaustion mixing with your pain made your body stumble for a bit, she saw it, like an open window, the opportunity in front of her, taking your arm and twisting it behind your back, her face in your neck, she felt like a stray animal fighting for survival, and somehow you did too.

Spitting the blood that had pooled in her mouth. she spoke lowly on your ear like a snake biting its bitter venom on your brain. "how fucking dare ye' acting all tough on me while being no more than insignificant."

you took the proximity of her face and launched your head to the side with all the force you could gather, hitting her and making her stumble to the side, almost falling on the table, you took off the blade in your neckless, hiding it between your long fingers. She however, looked at the desk and run to take a cutlass, running back to you, taking you by your waist, you place your hand right on her stomach, the other one in her hip, her armed hand pointing the blade in your neck.

"and how come I am still here? Trusting me with ye'r food, making me drink ye'r rum" you couldn’t finish, for her blade was now dragging shimmery crimson tears of pain from your neck, living matter flowing redly down to your cleavage.

Your pressed your dagger hard in her stomach, her eyes wide like a full moon.

A smirk marked her face, taking your bladed hand on the one she was holding you with. placing your steel up to her neck.

"do it dove, help me pay for I have sinned."

and without thinking too much your dragged the blade, slowly and firmly, the cut not too deep to kill, enough to ache, and her scrunch face lowered with her body, now kneeling in front of you.

One of her hands moving to touch your leg while the other going slowly towards her mouth, desperate to drag her tongue along the blade.

tasting your blood and closing her eyes with it, groaning at the fact that you were standing, tall now, looking down at her, the red droplets staining your breasts. And she was there at your mercy, like an idiot at your feet.

You tried gathering your composure, the sight in front of you like a spell and, standing still, you came close to her face, taking her by her neck making sure she could hear you clear and loud. "fuck you" you spat on her face. She closed her eyes for a second, her body still relaxed. "I will treasure, I will."

With perfect timing, the door creaked open. "Captain!" Dina, without looking inside, almost like she knew, Chimed in.

"look out sees land"

When the ship sailed, the sun roared it last rays. The sand creating curtains of clouds, reminding you of Callous, you haven’t seen you buddy since you got on board, probably left behind in the last shore.

Like enchanted, you ran with the crew, roaming around and getting what your eyes deemed fair.

The screams clouding the air becoming part of it, people refusing to give in the personal possessions. Deciding upon return, you found a child, a knife on both hands, so little that the steel looked like sword, the kid standing tall, its tiny body unmovable, looking at everything around you with big eyes, behind her, hiding a baby, their cries, loud and painful like a screech, a dying sound that chilled the skin up your spine, you turned around, now instead of looking at things, scanning the scene.

Blood running wild like a river of despair, the walls drench with pain and guts of the ones who refused to give their possessions.

The horror of the screaming become real instead of an afterthought, the pain wasn’t from stealing things, it was from taking lives.

Running down the streets, trying to not get cut by blades or punched by someone scared. Your own fear seeping from your eyes in the shape of tears, salty like the sea.

Hands taking you from your shoulders, almost punching however took you until you saw your brother.

"what the actual fucking shit is happening! I cant. I can't do this?"

your brother was speaking but your ears could only register the screeching of the dying people. years of wondering adventures in your head alongside your brother didn’t looked like this.

"fucking stop the crying, fuck! Ellie would kick ye' out, and myself maybe! if she sees. for sirens sake!" your brows furrowing tight, eyes trailing up to him, with great confusion.

"and why the hell would I want to continue with. That!" your hand pointing back at the horrific scene. His eyes rolling, something behind his head knew you were correct, still chose his dream.

Choose to excuse the growing pain he had in his chest since the first day he joined Ellie.

"I just, I don’t wanna lose you again. I can manage maybe to convince her to make ye' stay on board dooring the lootings-"his words were cut open from his back all the way to his chest, a grand sword puncturing his body, blood scaping his mouth like a waterfall, eyes wide in horror of what is to come.

your body falling with his, holding him with all your strength like that was going to save him, the man who did it in shock, scared of his own actions.

your anger firing your body with violent tint, like burning you from your guts out, spatting curses towards the men, taking your own blade, larger than the one in your brothers chest.

your sword returned to you by Jesse before the looting started, your should've guess since then what was to come.

with teary eyes, your arm slamming with force at his throat, forcefully entering getting out from the side, cutting off most of his neck, almost decapitating him.

Your screams called upon another villager, who ran to you with a butcher knife. Your long blade cutting his hand in a swift motion and running to face him, eyes bloodshot, mouth-watering with red liquid pooling down now, and your hand, burry deep in his intestines.

Your body coming to full stop, looking back at your brother, and feeling the weight of the agony darkening your eyes.

Full embrace, trying to turn back the time to when you were young.

Wench: A woman or peasant girl

Ye: You

Yellow Jack: When a ship flies a yellow flag, it indicates the presence of an ill crew member, such as yellow fever. But this was also a trick that smart pirates used to avoid becoming the target of another ship.

Yo Ho Ho!: A cheery expression to get someone’s attention

Swab: Mop or clean the ship’s deck and floorboards

Take a Caulk: Take a nap

Tar: Sailor, crew member

Thar She Blows!: Whale sighting

Three Sheets to the Wind: Very drunk, intoxicated

Scurvy Dog: insult

Scuttle: Sink a ship

Seadog: A veteran sailor or old pirate

Shark Bait: This is what you become after you walk the plank

Run a Rig: Play a joke or a trick on someone

Run a Shot Across the Bow: Warning shot given to another boat's Captain

Sail, Ho!: A warning that another ship is in view

Savvy?: A question asking, “Do you get it?” or “Do you understand?”

Lookout: The pirate who keeps watch for land or oncoming ships

Loot: Stolen money or belongings

Man-O-War: A pirate ship that is decked out and prepared for battle

Maroon: Leave someone stranded on a deserted island with no supplies, which was a common punishment for any crew members who disrespected or dishonored the Captain

Marooned: To be abandoned with no food, drink, or possessions

Me: My

Mizzen: The 3rd mast from the ship’s bow of bigger ships

Mutiny: When crew gang up against the Captain of the ship or other authority

No Prey, No Pay: The ship’s crew received no wages; however they got a part of the loot or treasure

Old Salt: Experienced pirate or sailor

lad, lass, lassie: A kid or young person

Fathom: Six feet

Feed the Fish: About to die

Cutlass: A thick, heavy and rather short sword blade for pirates

Buccaneer: A pirate

All Hand Hoy!: Everyone get on deck!

Avast Ye: Pay attention and check this out!

Aye: Yes

Aye, Aye: A crew member says this to the Captain, meaning “I will get that done right away!”

Batten Down The Hatches: Tie everything down and put stuff away for a coming storm.

Bilge-Sucking: An insulting expression of disdain

Blimey!: Surprise, shock

Blow me down!: Phrase of amazement or shock

Blow The Man Down: The Captain’s command to get rid of a person

Ye'r: Your

Ye'er: You are

let me know if you wanna be tagged please <3

@endureher ,@ancrygurl , @cherdailys

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religion-is-a-mental-illness · 8 months ago

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By: Alex Byrne and Carole K. Hooven

Published: Apr 3, 2024

As you may have noticed, “sex” is out, and “sex assigned at birth” is in. Instead of asking for a person’s sex, some medical and camp forms these days ask for “sex assigned at birth” or “assigned sex” (often in addition to gender identity). The American Medical Association and the American Psychological Association endorse this terminology; its use has also exploded in academic articles. The Cleveland Clinic’s online glossary of diseases and conditions tells us that the “inability to achieve or maintain an erection” is a symptom of sexual dysfunction, not in “males,” but in “people assigned male at birth.”

This trend began around a decade ago, part of an increasing emphasis in society on emotional comfort and insulation from offense — what some have called “safetyism.” “Sex” is now often seen as a biased or insensitive word because it may fail to reflect how people identify themselves. One reason for the adoption of “assigned sex,” therefore, is that it supplies respectful euphemisms, softening what to some nonbinary and transgender people, among others, can feel like a harsh biological reality. Saying that someone was “assigned female at birth” is taken to be an indirect and more polite way of communicating that the person is biologically female. The terminology can also function to signal solidarity with trans and nonbinary people, as well as convey the radical idea that our traditional understanding of sex is outdated.

The shift to “sex assigned at birth” may be well intentioned, but it is not progress. We are not against politeness or expressions of solidarity, but “sex assigned at birth” can confuse people and creates doubt about a biological fact when there shouldn’t be any. Nor is the phrase called for because our traditional understanding of sex needs correcting — it doesn’t.

This matters because sex matters. Sex is a fundamental biological feature with significant consequences for our species, so there are costs to encouraging misconceptions about it.

Sex matters for health, safety and social policy and interacts in complicated ways with culture. Women are nearly twice as likely as men to experience harmful side effects from drugs, a problem that may be ameliorated by reducing drug doses for females. Males, meanwhile, are more likely to die from Covid-19 and cancer, and commit the vast majority of homicides and sexual assaults. We aren’t suggesting that “assigned sex” will increase the death toll. However, terminology about important matters should be as clear as possible.

More generally, the interaction between sex and human culture is crucial to understanding psychological and physical differences between boys and girls, men and women. We cannot have such understanding unless we know what sex is, which means having the linguistic tools necessary to discuss it. The Associated Press cautions journalists that describing women as “female” may be objectionable because “it can be seen as emphasizing biology,” but sometimes biology is highly relevant. The heated debate about transgender women participating in female sports is an example; whatever view one takes on the matter, biologically driven athletic differences between the sexes are real.

When influential organizations and individuals promote “sex assigned at birth,” they are encouraging a culture in which citizens can be shamed for using words like “sex,” “male” and “female” that are familiar to everyone in society, as well as necessary to discuss the implications of sex. This is not the usual kind of censoriousness, which discourages the public endorsement of certain opinions. It is more subtle, repressing the very vocabulary needed to discuss the opinions in the first place.

A proponent of the new language may object, arguing that sex is not being avoided, but merely addressed and described with greater empathy. The introduction of euphemisms to ease uncomfortable associations with old words happens all the time — for instance “plus sized” as a replacement for “overweight.” Admittedly, the effects may be short-lived, because euphemisms themselves often become offensive, and indeed “larger-bodied” is now often preferred to “plus sized.” But what’s the harm? No one gets confused, and the euphemisms allow us to express extra sensitivity. Some see “sex assigned at birth” in the same positive light: It’s a way of talking about sex that is gender-affirming and inclusive.

The problem is that “sex assigned at birth”— unlike “larger-bodied”— is very misleading. Saying that someone was “assigned female at birth” suggests that the person’s sex is at best a matter of educated guesswork. “Assigned” can connote arbitrariness — as in “assigned classroom seating” — and so “sex assigned at birth” can also suggest that there is no objective reality behind “male” and “female,” no biological categories to which the words refer.

Contrary to what we might assume, avoiding “sex” doesn’t serve the cause of inclusivity: not speaking plainly about males and females is patronizing. We sometimes sugarcoat the biological facts for children, but competent adults deserve straight talk. Nor are circumlocutions needed to secure personal protections and rights, including transgender rights. In the Supreme Court’s Bostock v. Clayton County decision in 2020, which outlawed workplace discrimination against gay and transgender people, Justice Neil Gorsuch used “sex,” not “sex assigned at birth.”

A more radical proponent of “assigned sex” will object that the very idea of sex as a biological fact is suspect. According to this view — associated with the French philosopher Michel Foucault and, more recently, the American philosopher Judith Butler — sex is somehow a cultural production, the result of labeling babies male or female. “Sex assigned at birth” should therefore be preferred over “sex,” not because it is more polite, but because it is more accurate.

This position tacitly assumes that humans are exempt from the natural order. If only! Alas, we are animals. Sexed organisms were present on Earth at least a billion years ago, and males and females would have been around even if humans had never evolved. Sex is not in any sense the result of linguistic ceremonies in the delivery room or other cultural practices. Lonesome George, the long-lived Galápagos giant tortoise, was male. He was not assigned male at birth — or rather, in George’s case, at hatching. A baby abandoned at birth may not have been assigned male or female by anyone, yet the baby still has a sex. Despite the confusion sown by some scholars, we can be confident that the sex binary is not a human invention.

Another downside of “assigned sex” is that it biases the conversation away from established biological facts and infuses it with a sociopolitical agenda, which only serves to intensify social and political divisions. We need shared language that can help us clearly state opinions and develop the best policies on medical, social and legal issues. That shared language is the starting point for mutual understanding and democratic deliberation, even if strong disagreement remains.

What can be done? The ascendance of “sex assigned at birth” is not an example of unhurried and organic linguistic change. As recently as 2012 The New York Times reported on the new fashion for gender-reveal parties, “during which expectant parents share the moment they discover their baby’s sex.” In the intervening decade, sex has gone from being “discovered” to “assigned” because so many authorities insisted on the new usage. In the face of organic change, resistance is usually futile. Fortunately, a trend that is imposed top-down is often easier to reverse.

Admittedly, no one individual, or even a small group, can turn the lumbering ship of English around. But if professional organizations change their style guides and glossaries, we can expect that their members will largely follow suit. And organizations in turn respond to lobbying from their members. Journalists, medical professionals, academics and others have the collective power to restore language that more faithfully reflects reality. We will have to wait for them to do that.

Meanwhile, we can each apply Strunk and White’s famous advice in “The Elements of Style” to “sex assigned at birth”: omit needless words.

Mr. Byrne is a philosopher and the author of “Trouble With Gender: Sex Facts, Gender Fictions.” Ms. Hooven is an evolutionary biologist and the author of “T: The Story of Testosterone, the Hormone That Dominates and Divides Us”

[ Via: https://archive.today/P05Ci ]

There's an entire world of animals out there who mate and reproduce successfully all day, every day, without needing humans to "assign" them a sex. The idea that we are separate from all of this is as much evolution denial - or, arguably, more so - as Ken Ham's stupid zoo boat.

Predictably, this essay was deemed "transphobic" by the same people who insist that "sex and gender are separate" - how it can be "transphobic" when accurately describing sex has no bearing on your "gender identity" is beyond me - and who not long ago were insisting that "nobody's saying sex isn't real." Of course, now they're saying it out loud, such as nutcases like Jonathan "India" Willoughby, who is male, literally claiming to be female. If he's not being an obnoxious troll, he's certainly dangerously delusional.

How did we get to the point where sex - which is a real thing that is objectively true and the entire reason our species exists at all - is being denied, and "gender identity" - which is mystical, metaphysical hokum of gender thetans being trapped into improperly matched meat prisons - is unquestionably true?

#Alex Byrne #Carol Hooven #Carol K. Hooven #sex assigned at birth #assigned sex at birth #male #female #sex is binary #sex binary #biological dimorphism #human biology #evolution denial #religion is a mental illness

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notoriousbeb · 7 months ago

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TTPD Notes - The Healy of It All

TTPD Notes Glossary

As much I don’t like even thinking about Mr. Healy, here are my thoughts on him, in regards to how he fits in as a muse to this album and, potentially, others:

She supposedly dated Matty for a blink after her and Harry split in 2014. But there's never been any actual evidence of this. All we really know is she went to two or three of his shows that year. And one time, Harry was there. Healy himself even called it nothing more than "a flirtation." So...

In “The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived,” she intimates he’s bad in bed and has a small thang, (“Once your Queen had come/You’d treat her like an also-ran [a horse who runs in a race but doesn’t finish]/You didn’t measure up in any measure of a man). This tells me they never actually hooked up back in the day, probably just hung out; maybe did some kissing, at most.

You don't write "I'll forget you" (TSMWEL) and "I'll see it all until I die" (LOML) about the same person.

In fact, I think he did something really, really bad. I mean, "You deserve prison but you won't get time." Damn. That's like, really harsh, even for Tay. He can't merely have ghosted her. What did he dooooo?! The “you’ll slide into inboxes slip between bars” line makes it seem like he leaked info or spread false info, to me.

At the end of my depressing deep dive, I think just one of these 31 songs are for sure about Matty: “The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived.” To me “The Alchemy” is a likely. And he’s probably in a “Fortnite,” (the miracle move on drug).

All that to say, I don’t think he was this great love who got away; I think she barely knew him. And he certainly wasn’t someone she was pining over for years and swirling into all of her poems/previous albums.

#haylor

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cocogrrrl · 1 year ago

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drifters

you're willing to put yourself through hell for him, but a freak accident causes the situation to make him the one near death's row instead.

Kenny McCormick x gn!reader (Killjoys AU) cw: injury, mentions of drugs, usage of alcohol, themes of war wc: 4228 (minus the references in the beginning)

an: although its relatively easy to infer the lore and slang, I've provided a glossary n a bit of lore for those unfamiliar :D hope u enjoy this cause i sure did!

After the Fire Wars of 2012, California has been under a tyrannical rule lead by the quasi-governmental corporation named Better Living Industries. The company promises eternal happiness through "the sanctity of monocromaticism." Better Living Industries subjects the people of Battery City to brainwashing, heavily through the use of drugs to negate all emotions and possibly even memories. They keep an eye on every single one of the people under their control, prohibiting them from anything that can make them experience sort of feelings Killjoys are the people who live in the zones outside of Battery City. They oppose the ways of Better Living Industries and work to survive outside of their rule as well as to take them down. KN - Killjoy Name (Separate from YN) Zones - Area outside Battery City. Cordial - Slang for moonshine. BLi - Better Living Industries, can be abbreviated to BL/ind as well Dracs - (Short for Draculoids) Members of BLi’s SCARECROW unit that are ordered to kill (Usually anything that hold emotional attachment, such as relationships). Cloud - A group, and sometimes encampment, of dracs. Pangea - Culmination of three or more groups. Dusted - To die/be dead. Ghosted - See dusted Route Guano - The main road through the zones. Drifting - A relationship that is not platonic, romantic or sexual, but a combination or something outside of it. Often usually portrayed as go-with-the-flow thing. Ray gun - Shoots lasers! Pew, pew, pew! Used by killjoys and draculoids Phoenix Witch - A mystical creature that resides in the zones, guiding departed souls of killjoys. Ember Bridge - To abandon your team. Clap - A fight (not limited to, but usually) between a killjoy and a drac. Costa Rica - to go downhill. ** Very well aware they are from Colorado 😨 It’s just that the setting is in California. ** Tommy Chow Mein is a major supplier of a multitude of products in the zones. I changed it to Timmy Chow Mein in reference to Timmy Burch from South Park. ** The Trans AM is the car that the fab four killjoys drive.

—————

(I refer to the main four here by their hero names, since creating Killjoy names for them would cause a hell lot of confusion.)

“KN,” you heard Mysterion mumble your name with a slurred tongue against your hair, bodies flush against each other. You only hummed in reply. “So fuckin’ pretty. My eyes are only for you.”

“You’re absolutely shitfaced right now, aren’t you?” You laughed, turning your body to look at him and caress his face.

“I didn’t even have that much.” He rolled his eyes, playfully pouting. “Even if I wasn’t jacked on cordial right now, I’d still tell you that.”

“You’re funny.” You hummed, brushing a hair off his face to lean in and kiss him. Kissing him gently and savoring the quiet you two had together.

“Hell yeah, I am.” He started giggling, giddiness radiating from the smile on his face because of your show of affection.

“You ever think this is gonna end? Like, one day, BLI’s finally overthrown, and we’re left to build a new society?” You mused, playing with the flyaway hair spread all over the pillows.

“God, I hope so.” He sighed, his happy smile turning into one of a melancholic grin.

“Yeah? Do you think you’ll be excited if it happens?”

“When it happens, sugar,” he corrected, bringing a finger up to your face. ”But, I think so. I’m not sure what I’ll do after. I’ll definitely be with my family, but I don’t know what comes next.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, burying your face into the warm flesh of his chest. “It seems like war is all we know at this point.”

“I’m gonna have to unlearn it at some point once this is all over.” He murmured, a hand of his finding itself brushing your hair. ”As fun as it is sometimes, hell isn’t worth kicking ass. I’d rather be elderly on a porch than worry if I’ll live to see the next day.”

“You’ll get there one day.” You hummed.

“Yeah?”

“I’ll make sure of it.” You were just spewing bullshit out of your mouth. These were promises you knew damn well you couldn’t keep. Even if it was a mere stretch away from you, that reality was covered in thorns. Despite your unfaithful oath, it was your personal mission to keep him safe.

You felt a kiss laid on the top of your head. “Such a darling, sugar.”

“I know.”

———

“Wait, wait, wait,” you sighed, shaking your head in confusion. “There’s a cloud nearby, and we’re gonna storm them?”

“Yeah,” The Coon, promptly replied.

“Just the five of us are going to attack them?”

“Mhm,” this time Toolshed nodded.

“Aren’t we gonna die?! Unless a Pangea’s gonna happen, it sounds like we’re actually asking to get dusted!” You burst, jaw agape in shock.

“KN, we have no other choice. It’s either that or we wait for them to ambush the diner.” Human Kite sighed, parking a little off Route Guano. You all could see the encampment the dracs had set up not too far away.

“I guess you have a point.”

You felt a hand place itself on top of yours. It was Mysterion’s. He gave it a reassuring squeeze. “It gonna be okay, KN.” His voice was barely above a whisper.

“...Thanks, Mysterion.” You couldn’t help but smile at him, knowing his words were tainted in falsehood anyway. There was no way telling of how this was gonna end.

This lifestyle was not one for the romantics. This life was not for the optimist.

Hell sunk itself in the modern day and, as a result, many people of all ages, sizes, and hearts are left to fight for their life depended on it.

You took a deep breath as you five exited the vehicle, finding a few large stones to hide behind. You waited for Human Kite’s lead. At one, you’ll jump in and get in a clap with the dracs.

You could either end up living or be killed, yet both outcomes scared you fiercely. If you survive, then that means you’d have to relive this experience again. If you get ghosted, then it’s game over.

But those two were just mere bad thoughts to the grand nightmare that was losing Mysterion.

You two weren’t together. You two were just drifters, existing outside of the space of platonic, romantic, and sexual desires. You joked with each other like best friends, kissed like lovers, and persevere like partners—although any sort of action you guys had were few and far between.

You cherished those moments, though. You cherished him. Every single goddamn inch of whatever he had to offer. His touch, his brightness, his smile, his kindness, his scars that littered his body, his heart full of gold that was fueled out of retribution.

Losing him was your greatest fear, even if you knew he wasn’t yours to begin with.

However, there was no turning back now. You guys were here. For all you know, you could’ve been spotted already.

Human Kite started to count down as soon as you knew it.

“Five,” he whispered.

“Four,” you held your breath, looking over to the group of unsuspecting Dracs.

“Three,” you tightened your grip on your ray gun you bought years ago at a vending machine—back when you still lived in the city.

“Two,” you swiftly glanced at Mysterion, savoring his beauty with the fraction of a fraction of a fraction of a second you had left.

“One.”

All five of you jumped into the scene and started to blast the Dracs—dust from the ground quickly flying everywhere and blinding everyone. Amidst the cloud of sand, you could make out faint, white silhouettes. That’s how you knew where to shoot.

Both hands tight on your ray gun, you shot every Drac you saw, inching closer towards the center of their camp—where it was most dangerous. You had to wipe the dracs out for the safety of not just your friends but even the other gangs that settled near here.

One of them came flying at you, and by the Phoenix Witch’s grace, you were briskly able to dodge it. They barely missed you and instead landed face-first into the sand. Putting one foot on their back to hold them down, you shot them in the head. One zap to kill him, and then another to rid your frustrations.

“KN! Be careful!” A name called out. It was Mysterion, signaling to look behind you. You could see him run towards you.

As you turned to face whatever he was warning you about, you were met with the burning sensation of a ray piercing itself through your arm. “Fuck!” You cursed, nearly tumbling over from the pain. You had to hold yourself up, though, and continue fighting.

The moment you were hunched over, Mysterion was right by your side to help you. As you seethed through the pain, rebuilding the strength to stand back up, he acted as your human shield.

Once you were alright, your injured arm held your ray gun up high, the other hoisting it up by the forearm. You two needed to get out of the center quick. Back to back with your ray guns out, you two made a beeline out of the heart of the camp shooting back at the dracs that sent a hail of lasers and bullets toward the two of you.

When you were merely out of their reach, you felt Mysterion lose balance and fall on you. Adrenaline kicked in and, despite the state of your arm, you were able to hold him up. This would all be great if it weren’t for the red you spotted soaking through the grey fabric of his clothes.

“Mysterion, are you okay?” You only got a groan in reply. “Answer me!” You yelled, shaking his body. He was limp, though.

Only one thought had bore itself in your mind: you are not going to let him let go like this. He’d be ashamed of you, and you’d be ashamed of yourself.

You peeked from behind a rock you two were hiding behind, checking to see Toolshed, Coon, and Human Kite. They seemed alright, none of them sustaining any injury yet. You had to act fast right now.

It seemed like the adrenaline in your body was the only thing keeping you alive since you mustered up the will to grab Mysterion and quickly get into the Trans AM, setting him in the back.

You took off the jacket around you and wrapped it tight against his torso to apply pressure. You shrugged his jacket off to wrap it around his leg for the same reason as well. You lifted the signature helmet he wore, giving him more air to breathe.

“Mysterion. You stay there, okay? I’m gonna tell Human Kite and the others to go.” You said, doubtful that he could hear you. You shut the door, though, and ran back to the field to find the rest of your group.

You spotted Human Kite, cornered by a bunch of Dracs. He looked like he knew he was fucked. Luckily, since you were from a distance, you were able to shoot a few of the dracs from behind. An easiness was now settling on the redhead’s face. You helped him fend off the rest of the Dracs there. After which, you leaned in close to him to whisper something.

“Kite,” you said, pants breaking up your speech.

“Yeah?”

“Mysterion’s in the Trans. He got shot in the chest, side, and thigh.”

“Fuck.” He cursed under his breath, worry evident in his eyes.

“We gotta either dust these guys right now or book it.”

“Well,” he scanned the area, checking how many more Dracs are left. “There’s not that much left. You think we can take them down?”

“If you wanna go through it, we have to do it as fast as we can, or else we got a dead body on our hands.”

“I know.” He nodded, running to Toolshed and Coon to give them the news, you following behind. In an instant, they all started to shoot, and you did too. It didn’t long before each and every single one of them was ghosted.

Human Kite was in the driver’s, the Coon called shotgun, and so you and Toolshed were left to take care of Mysterion as the Coon asked the Chef for places with medical supplies.

All you could hear was your own heartbeat. Coon’s incessant yelling on the phone, the sputtering engine of the Trans Am, worried back and forths between Toolshed and Human Kite, and the faint sound of the radio in the back were white noise to your ears. All you stop and think about right now was Mysterion.

The sole reason why Mysterion continued to keep on going was his sister, Karen, who still lived in Battery City. The two were separated after the Fires a few years ago. Ever since then, it's been his sole mission to find her and protect her. God knows if she’s been drugged by Better Living Industries or not, but he was sure of one thing: he was not going to BL/ind make an orphan out of her.

What about you? Did you have any reason to fight? You were stripped of your freedom and innocence at a young age, sure, but so was everyone else. You had no one and nothing in particular to live for, so really you didn’t have any reason to truly fight at first.

However, when you learned why Mysterion worked relentlessly hard to take down BLi, you couldn’t help but admire him. From the day when you learned about his motivations, you made it your sole duty to protect him. Though you had nothing distinctly notable enough to live for, Mysterion did, and so you found your new purpose.

It didn’t take a genius to realize how your worries consumed you. Guilt was not a word big enough to describe the insurmountable feeling of responsibility you had bubbling in your gut. You were embarrassed, ashamed to your very core for your carelessness and stupidity. Had you kept a better eye on Mysterion, he wouldn’t be halfway through Death’s front garden by now.

Once you five had arrived in the diner, Toolshed and Coon immediately rushed Mysterion to a small booth to patch him up. Human Kite, on the other hand, assisted the hole in your arm in the comfort of your room.

“You really care about him, don’t you?” He mused, fixing up the burn hole that pierced your arm. You were lucky that it didn’t go through the bone, only piercing your skin, flesh, and muscle.

Human Kite knew about the two of you—or at least had an idea. Neither of you hadn’t told anyone about anything, but you were sure it would be easy to spot if they looked close enough.

Were you two open about your ‘relationship’? Yes. Were you two obvious about it? No, but you’re certain he would be if he could. You two were always preoccupied with taking down dracs and scheming ways to overthrow BL/ind, so you barely had the time for each other.

You could only love him in unpredictable, small doses, even if you wanted more than that. That made loving difficult, especially when you desperately longed for any sense of stability in your life.

“Oh, don’t small talk me like that.” You sighed, rolling your eyes.

“It’s true, though, right?” He hummed, tongue sticking out as he redirected his focus on your arm.

“Yeah.”

“Are you two together anyways?”

“No.” You answered hesitantly, a vague image of a pout on your lips.

“Drifters?”

“You know, you’re really chatty right now. Wonder where that came from.” Despite your rather harsh reply, you did appreciate the conversation you were having with Human Kite. It served as a good distraction for the burning cold sensation that was the after sting of the laser.

Human Kite didn’t seem to take your comment to heart, though. “You’re not denying it, though.”

“So? I’m not confirming it either.”

“Tell him that you like him.” You sucked in a breath, partially out of your discontentment with the idea and partially because of the raw sensation of a needle and thread being woven into your flesh.

“Kite, he’s literally nearing his deathbed as we’re talking. I don’t think I can tell him that I like him currently.” You humorously replied, a dry look on your face as you spoke.

He shrugged. “If he makes it, then.”

“When he makes it.” You corrected.

“You’re so confusing.” He sighed, shaking his head.

“Thank you. I pride myself on it.”

———

The next day passes by and Human Kite, Toolshed, and Coon had gone to the Kitchen, where Chef’s base resided, and also did his radio concerts. They went to report the outcome of yesterday’s mission and receive their next one. After that, they would pass by Timmy Chow Mein to grab some more power pups and extra supplies.

That meant you were left alone with the recovering body of Mysterion, which was resting on the booth where he was fixed up the previous day. All you had to do was check if he was breathing and alive—which he was.

However, he’s been unconscious since yesterday, so even if blood pumped through his veins, it still meant he was under unstable conditions. You watched over his rather frail and pale body, shirtless and bandages wrapped everywhere.

His poor state made you worried. It didn’t seem like you guys would be getting out of your current predicament any time soon. Hell, you’ve been going at it for years now, the term ‘soon’ just seemed like a hopeless promise to you.

The dead can be many things. The dead can win, find peace, and be freed from the chains that have held them down, but the one thing they’ll never be are survivors.

But, of course, eventually, most things will come to an end, which meant BL/ind would face its inevitable downfall. The question is if you’ll be able to watch and savor the souls (or lack thereof) crashing down.

Maybe Kyle was right. Maybe you should tell him about your feelings.

What do you have to lose? Definitely your god-knows-what of a relationship with Mysterion, but it’s not like you were going to ember bridge your gang. That would be reckless, and even then you were sure neither of you wanted to see the other leave the troupe and get themselves ghosted (or worse, drugged by BL/ind).

You sat on the seat across the booth, watching Mysterion's features shine from the sun that hit his face, adorning his features further. Mindlessly, you grazed your fingers on his exposed skin. You wondered just when he’ll wake up.

The question of yours did not take too long to be answered.

You heard a groan spill out of his lips, words you couldn’t make out being mumbled by him. Like instinct, you bolted up from your hunch-over position and observed him with a deeper focus in your eyes. “...Mysterion? Are you awake?”

“KN…” He murmured, eyes slowly opening and meeting yours.

“Mysterion!” You called out, leaping across the table.

“Ugh, what happened?” His voice was beyond coarse because of his lack of use.

You stood up and headed to the dirty kitchen behind the counter to grab a glass of water for him. “Things went Costa Rica during the clap, and you almost died—that’s what happened!”

“Mmf, thank you.” He said, finishing the drink in an instant, setting the glass on the table with a light slam. A heave exited his lips as he collected his breaths.

You knew he just woke up but had he no regard for himself? You’ve just broken the news to him that he almost got ghosted, completely dusted. He seemed to not care at all.

“Of course.” You huffed, brushing off your thoughts and rolling your eyes. You’ll probably get back to that later—when he’s more clearheaded.

“How long was I out for?”

“A whole day.” You sighed, looking at him as your head rested on your arm propped on the table. ”The gang is out to report the mission to Chef and grab some stuff at Timmy’s.”

“Alright.” He nodded.

“You shouldn’t have come back to save me.” You spoke out mindlessly, voice barely above a whisper. You meant it in a way that you regret what you’d caused because of your recklessness.

He might have taken that differently, though. “I shouldn’t have? KN, if I helped Kite and the others out instead of you, you would be totally dusted right now. That’s for sure.”

He was right, though. You couldn’t get mad at that. You were all alone back there, and the cloud of dracs would’ve ganged up on you. With Mysterion, less damage was observed, yet the injuries all targeted him.

Then again, his life mattered more than yours. He had Karen. You had no one.

“Mysterion, you matter more in the grand scheme of things. You have a family to find. I got fucking nothing!”

“Don’t say that, KN. You’re worth a lot more than you think.” He fumed, but his voice did not raise. Not at all. The look of anger on his face was clear, though.

“I didn’t mean it like that.” You shook your head, taking a deep breath before continuing. ”I know I matter or whatever, but you have something worth fighting for.”

“You’re worth fighting for, though.” He assured, taking both of his hands to hold your empty one.

You snapped. Words fell out of your mouth quicker than you could process the rate of them going. “And you are too! What you want is so much larger than who I’ll ever be. That’s why I’ve been hellbent on saving you!”

“You have?” He mouthed, horror melting on his face.

Hesitant to answer, you paused, body frozen. “Yeah...”

“I’m sure that’s not just why.” He continued—the terror once present now turning into an upset one.

Strike you confused since you didn’t know or understand what he was talking about. “The fuck you mean?”

“Do you like me?”

“Duh.” You bluntly answered, furrowing your brows.

“No, you don’t get it. Do you like like me?”

“Mysterion, you sound childish.”

“Answer my question.” He demanded, his eyes dark and piercing through you.

Well, you were backed into a corner now.

In the end, though, you had already thought about telling him. This was bound to be found out about at some point. Kite likely knew already, so what’s holding you back from telling Mysterion?

Fear, that is—even if it dissolved into nothing when you were with him.

You took a deep breath before you answer. “Yeah. I am in love with you.

“And so what?” You scoffed, finally straightening your posture to shoot him a look of scornfulness. ”I know I shouldn’t want you this way, especially if our lives are on the line every second of the day, but I can’t help it. I’m so hopelessly in love with you that I’m willing to sacrifice myself to get hurt in the process just so I can hold you for longer.

At this point, even if you weren’t even thinking of what you were saying, you couldn’t care less. You were finally able to set the record straight and tell him the truth. Although, you began to falter and crumble with every word you spoke.

“I want time to fast forward to a future where we’re together, and everything is normal. I can’t, though. That’s why I settle for second best—which is protecting you and waiting for that day to come.

“Is that what you wanted to hear?” You spat.

You couldn’t read his reaction. You were helpless at that very moment. “Sugar…” He mumbled.

You didn’t want him to call you that name for the longest time. You didn’t deserve a name that praised you to be sweet, to be caring because, when all is said and done, you were a monster.

You only went with the name because he seemed to love calling you that, and you loved him too dearly to stop him from doing so.

Yet, despite the head you held high, you started to crumble. Your words felt selfish and how was he supposed to take you seriously? You’re nothing more than a means to an end. What if he found your confession embarrassing? What if he didn’t want to be with you anymore?

“Shit, I know it’s stupid, but I ju-”

You were cut off by the sensation of Mysterion’s lips on yours.

This was nothing new, though. You two kissed all the time, so why did this one feel so different?

Maybe it was the way it felt like it lasted forever. Maybe it was how your arms were all over each other—clinging desperately as if the other would disappear into thin air if one of you let go. Maybe it was because you could read the desperation and longing on his tongue. The petals of his lips on yours felt like a confession that did not need any words—something holy.

Whatever it was, you didn’t want this to end.

In your mind, the moment you two pulled away from each other with breaths crooked and awry, you knew one thing in that instant: you must’ve been breathing him.

“Mysterion…” You mumbled, forehead beading with sweat pressing against his.

“Kenny. It’s Kenny. Say my name. You already know it’s the real one.”

“Kenny,” you breathed, his name feeling like a cool breeze on your tongue. It’s been years since you’ve last spoken his name.

You felt his lips form into a smile on yours. “YN, YN, YN.” He chanted your name like it was his favorite hymn.

Everything felt like it was in its right place, even for a split moment. It felt that a fraction of a second was all you needed to know everything was alright. To know that everything is, in fact, here. You and Kenny against the world.

“What is it?”

Pulling apart from each other’s bodies, his hands found themselves resting on the space of your shoulders. “I need, no, want you. I’ve wanted you for so fucking long now.”

“Why are you only telling me this right now?” You cooed.

“I was terrified,” he professed. ”I didn’t know if you wanted me as much as I did with you. That’s why I never pursued anything with you. I settled to be needed. It felt more comfortable that way anyway

“Besides, romance isn’t for the zones. If I was with you, my fear of losing you would be too amplified that might even kill me.”

With every word he spoke, you could feel your heart break a little more. He didn’t deserve to think this way, and you didn't deserve him to believe in you like this.

“At least you don’t have to be scared anymore.” You said reassuringly, taking the sides of his face into your hands, thumb caressing his cheek. ”I’ll be scared with you. Two negatives is a positive, right? We’ll find a way to work this out.”

“Please hold my hand as we work things through. Please,” he paused, hesitant to continue his next words. “Be with me.”

You nodded, finding your hand intertwined with his as you laid a soft kiss on it. “For as long as time allows us.”

(You thought to yourself, ‘Perhaps I’m a romantic as well.’)

#cocogrrrl's writing #south park fanfiction #south park x reader #kenny mccormick x y/n #kenny mccormick x you #kenny mccormick x reader #kenny x reader

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unwelcome-ozian · 1 month ago

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Police officers must be aware that the Constitution's First Amendment gives people the freedom to worship God, plants, Satan, or any other symbol. Witchcraft, the Occult, and Satanism are sometimes considered to be synonymous. Individuals interested in deviant pagan and satanic practices are usually male, intelligent, creative, alienated from the family religion, and middle-class or upper-middle- class. They usually have a difficult time relating to peers, have low self-esteem, and may be underachievers. Early phases of involvement with deviant or satanic practices include stress with accompanying anxiety and fear and feelings of inadequacy or loss of control. Signs of active involvement include obsession with fantasy role-playing games, books on magic or witchcraft, the use of objects for spells or rituals, symbolic jewelry, drug abuse, unexplained paranoia or fear of the world, and extreme secrecy. Crime scenes may offer clues to involvement in the occult: mockery of Christian symbols; the use of stolen or vandalized Christian artifacts; unusual drawings; animal mutilations; skulls with or without candles; and rooms draped in black, white, or red. Glossary, drawings and explanations of symbols, list of ritualistic items that should be listed on a search warrant, and suggestions for investigating a ritualistic crime scene.

Corporate Author Glendale Police Dept Glendale, CA 91200, United States

#Satanism #Ritual Crime #SRA #RA #ritual abuse

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crimson-dahliaa · 2 months ago

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Research Report: Dissecting Misteln’s Crude Techniques and Proposing Superior Methods

Subject: Revisiting the Brain’s Role in Aging and the Path to True Immortality Quick glossary:

Neuromodulation: A therapeutic technique that involves directly altering the activity of the nervous system using electrical, chemical, or magnetic stimulation. Neuromodulation can target specific brain areas to enhance or suppress neural activity, often used to treat neurological conditions or influence cognitive functions.

Nanotechnology: A field of science and engineering focused on manipulating matter at the atomic or molecular level, typically at scales of less than 100 nanometers. In medicine, nanotechnology is used to develop tools like drug-delivery systems and microscopic devices that can repair cells or alter biological processes with extreme precision.

Biophysical Mapping: A process of creating detailed maps of biological systems, often using advanced imaging techniques, to understand the physical and functional structures of cells, tissues, or organs. In brain research, biophysical mapping refers to charting neural connections and activity patterns to study how different parts of the brain work together.

Misteln’s research presents a deeply flawed approach to understanding the brain’s involvement in the aging process. Her belief that the brain functions as a biological clock, slowly winding down until death, may have been compelling to her, but to anyone with real expertise, it’s clear her methods were laughably crude. Her entire premise relies on an imagined "biological timer" that determines when the body will deteriorate, a concept that might appeal to the untrained mind, but falls apart under any serious scrutiny.

Misteln’s ideas never reached beyond the surface of the problem. Her attempts to understand the brain’s role in aging were clumsy at best, constrained by a lack of real education in neurology. She relied on theories built on outdated principles, never bothering to dig deeper into the actual workings of the neural networks she claimed to control. The crude nature of her experiments is reflected in her surgical techniques — if one could even call them that. Misteln’s approach was little more than exploratory mutilation, leaving her subjects with irreversible damage rather than any meaningful insight.

Misteln’s Crudeness and My Proposed Refinement

Her most laughable failure was her belief that the brain could simply be "altered" to achieve immortality through physical removal of a so-called "kill switch." Misteln's tools were primitive, and her methods were barely worthy of a beginner. She approached the brain as if it were a mechanical device, expecting to find a single point to snip and sever. Her surgery relied on brute force, attempting to cut away at complex neural structures in search of this mythical switch.

Where Misteln’s techniques were barbaric, I intend to advance with precision. Instead of recklessly cutting through delicate structures, I will employ advanced neuromodulation techniques — methods Misteln was barely aware existed. By using targeted stimulation and high-resolution brain mapping, I will isolate specific areas responsible for cognitive decline and systematically repair them without the unnecessary destruction that Misteln left in her wake. My methods are rooted in modern science, utilizing nanotechnology and gene editing, two areas Misteln was clearly too ignorant to explore.

Vision for Improvement

Misteln’s attempts to manipulate the brain relied on sheer guesswork, and her results reflect that. Her failures are evident in the remains of her patients — twisted experiments, barely human by the time she was done with them. This was the result of her crude understanding of neuroanatomy. Her approach was essentially like using a sledgehammer to perform delicate surgery. The fact that she even referred to her methods as “scientific” is an insult to the field.

I, on the other hand, will not be so careless. My methods will involve sophisticated biophysical mapping, using real-time neural tracking to adjust individual synaptic pathways. By leveraging computational modeling, I can predict and prevent cognitive decay before it ever begins. Instead of trying to remove a mythical “kill switch,” I will modify the brain’s aging mechanisms at the molecular level, carefully reconstructing the networks that Misteln thought could simply be severed.

Misteln was barely educated, grasping at theories with the understanding of an amateur. She viewed immortality as something to be “cut out,” rather than something to be fostered through careful enhancement. She was playing at science, pretending she could achieve real results with brute force and guesswork. Her tools were as primitive as her thinking — and her failures were inevitable.

My approach will revolutionize what she could not even begin to grasp. With access to the proper tools and a mind grounded in real science, I will succeed where Misteln faltered. Her crudeness and ignorance left her fumbling in the dark, but with my expertise, immortality will no longer be a distant dream, but an achievable reality.

Dr. Ougai Suiren Lead Researcher, Bleeding Heart Orphanage

@tilskkarishma

Can you tell biology and this kinda stuff is my favorite?

#‎‧₊˚✧ 💉 𝓢𝓾𝓲𝓻𝓮𝓷 ✧˚₊‧#ׂ╰┈➤ bsd oc #ׂ╰┈➤ Bungou Stray Dogs original character #ׂ╰┈➤ Original character lore

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258punkweight · 8 months ago

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on call with my cousin and she got this devotional for easter, there's like a glossary and there's a part for drugs. she thinks this is funny cause she's 11 so she was trying to find that part and she said "let's look for drugs in here" LOL

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bersergner-blog · 3 months ago

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Escape from Tombstone - Enemy Glossary (C-Block)

Now at this point you actually briefly make your way through X-Block to access the Sewers and take a tunnel through to C-Block as the rest of the prison is in lockdown. However since X-Block is an area we properly explore later we'll cover them after C-Block.

C-Block is "on Record" the worst Block in the prison (however X and Z Block aren't even on the record...). However the truth is that this Block is almost entirely autonomous, it is run by former Nigerian Warlord 'Kakosi' and houses only the most affluent of prisoners. It's Fight Pits, Gamebling Halls and Drug Lab profit the prison and in turn they have more luxury and freedom. Although the Block is in a sorry state of repair.

Unfortunately for Colton the tunnel breaks through into the Fight Pit and after taking down all comers he is forced to fight Volgin (Boss) the champion of the arena and a tough fight.

After succeeding in the arena by the rules of the pit Colton is allowed to proceed. He fights his way through the Dojo, facing some of C-Block's most skilled martial artists.

Next we fight through the main block where we face the Distribution wing of C-Block's drug-trade. After smashing that Colton is forced to move through Lockup, fighting the drug-maddened ex-fighters too mad to be of service to C-Block to advance to the Betting Halls where we find heavily armed enemies under Kakosi's command.

With the way clear Colton fights his way through Manufacture, facing weak but resourceful enemies in possession of dangerous chemicals, eventually fighting his way to Toc-Syn (Boss), Kakosi's drug cook.

After this fight Colton faces off with Kakosi's personal command the 'War Party'. heavily armed, heavily armoured and very capable fighters. Eventually confronting Kakosi (Boss) on the B-Block rooftop.

#concept art #digital art #digital illustration #digital painting #digital drawing #design #game dev blog #game development #character concept #beat em up

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gaypiratepropaganda · 2 years ago

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gay pirate glossary

articles- ship's articles. the papers you sign to join a crew. different ships have different rules. pirates got to make up their own.

bosun- boatswain. in charge of things that happen on deck. pretty sure there's supposed to be an apostrophe in there somewhere (bo'sun? bo's'n?)

bosun's chair- the swing thing for working on the side of the ship or bringing breakfast up to your co-captain.

bow- front of the ship.

bridge- the higher deck on top of the cabin? where you steer the ship from. only certain people are supposed to go up there, usually.

brig- the jail place below deck where you keep people who are annoying you.

captain- you know this one for sure, but pirate captains were a bit different than other captains. since they weren’t backed by any kind of government and could be mutinied or voted out at any time, they had to earn their crew’s respect. they needed the crew to see them as an equal, but still an authority on certain things. sometimes there was no captain, or they took turns.

doldrums- when the wind isn’t blowing for a while and everyone kind of loses their minds

flogging- punishment used on sailors in which a person is tied up and whipped a certain amount of times, depending on their transgression (30 lashes, 40 lashes, etc). It could get pretty bad, people died from it. allegedly you could volunteer to whip your friends so that it wouldn’t hurt as bad. people say this is where the phrase "I’ll scratch your back, you scratch mine" comes from, but that doesn't seem true

galley- the kitchen on a boat. sometimes doubles as the infirmary.

grog- daily rations of rum, mashed fruit, sketchy water, and sugar mixed into a delicious punch.

gun- the thing that shoots cannonballs.

hardtack- hard sad little crackerbreads that keep well but are very bland. sometimes there were bonus bugs in (extra protein!)

head- the toilet. it’s basically a board with a hole in it at the front of the ship. it goes straight into the ocean.

keelhauling- tying someone to the end of a rope and dropping them off the front of a ship so that they’re dragged under it and they drown or their skin gets ripped up by barnacles. fun.

(note: pirates didn’t usually use torture methods like keelhauling or flogging, especially not on their own crewmates. that was the navy and the merchant ships. a lot of people started out on those, mutinied because of the harsh conditions, stole the ship they were on, and became pirates. if a pirate captain tried that shit, they would not be captain for very long.)

kohl- black eyeliner made by the indigenous people of africa, india, and the middle east. i think it was invented in egypt? if pirates wore it, then tragically no one wrote about it. but it’s part of the lore at this point and it’s pretty. just accept it.

letter of marque- papers that prove someone is a privateer.

matelot- pirate husband. there was a matelotage ceremony, papers to sign, and a party afterward. a mate served as, like, next of kin. they made decisions if the other couldn’t, shared quarters and possessions, all that. some people insist it was only a financial arrangement, and maybe sometimes it was. but so were straight marriages, especially at the time.

port- left when you’re facing front (like stage left)

press-ganged/shanghaied- being drugged, stolen, and sold to work on a ship involuntarily. the recruiters just had to forge your signature and then you were stuck. some people became pirates to escape. it’s press-ganging when the navy does it, shanghaiing for the merchants.

privateer- like a pirate, but authorized by the state. they were allowed to kill and steal but only enemies of the crown and they had to give everything to the king. it was a good way to get a pardon and avoid being hanged. privateers often went right back to being pirates at the first opportunity.

quartermaster- first mate, also elected by the crew.

raid- when you go on another ship and take their things. pirates weren’t really out there stealing fabulous treasure or anything. It was more basic necessities like food, water, medical supplies, clothes, dishes, money, sugar, spices, and anything of value they could find to sell. they tried to be as scary as possible so that people would surrender and they wouldn’t have to kill anyone unnecessarily. if you could get them to join your crew, even better.

rigging- all the ropes. you can climb around on them.

round robin- when you sign your names in a circle so that no one gets singled out for signing first. used in the navy.

salty- of or related to the sea, experienced as a sailor

sextant- that thing you use to measure the stars so you know where you are at sea. i think you can also use your hand somehow? i don't understand it.

shanties- those songs sailors sing. you know the ones. they were work songs, to get everybody in the same rhythm, but they were also for entertainment. there’s a lot of downtime on a sailing ship. my favorite thing is that when singing a song from the perspective of, for example, a woman waiting for her bonny lad to come back from the sea, they would sing in their man voices without changing the words.

shares- an equal cut of the loot. some people might get a share or half share more or less than other crewmembers. sometimes the captain was the one who got less? this was decided by vote. it’s like a non-profit stealing co-op.

starboard- right when you’re facing front (like stage right)

stern- back of the ship.

watch- everyone took shifts staying up to watch for other ships and make sure they stayed on course.

yardarm- the horizontal thing that the sails are on. yardies!

some basic pirate terms for you in case you need them. I did not do any research, this is 100% organic vibes-based pirate lore in honor of our boy david. i have read a lot about pirates over the years, though. fiction, nonfiction, and primary sources. these are just the fun bits that live in my brain <3

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