#He's stuck in a destructive pattern he doesn't want to break yet

[novellapink]

The nicest thing that boy ever did for me was dump me

[bird-inacage]

Only Friends: Can Ray be Redeemed? Is Sand the Solution?

I know Ray has upset a lot of people in Episode 8. I do find it really fascinating how quickly the tide has turned on him, especially when you compare his actions to those of our villains of the first arc: Boston and Top. Perhaps I'm in the minority, but I still choose to believe that Ray does care. He's hugely misguided but not heartless.

Let me firstly preface that none of what I'm about to say excuses Ray's behaviour but is an attempt to unpack why I still hold hope.

A child lost with no anchor

Ray is emotionally immature (which as cliché as it sounds, is a direct product of his upbringing - or lack thereof). He largely operates on basic needs, as a child would: 'I want. I need'. It's all based on serving the self. He seems wildly incapable of thinking very far beyond that. Like a child, he can barely take care of himself, let alone anyone else. He's pretty helpless on his own in a lot of respects. Most people grow out of this. Through knocks and hardship, we learn the world doesn't revolve around us and how to equip ourselves with healthy and appropriate means to navigate through life. Ray however, still seems to be stuck in his infantile box.

I often joke that Ray is a bit feral, but there is some truth to that. Ray's been left to his own devices for the majority of his life. So it's no surprise he's developed this 'me against the world' attitude which is volatile and defensive, but ultimately keeps him caged in said box.

These traits are abundantly apparent in his relationship with Mew. Ray is the vehicle for Mew's self-destruction, but all he sees is the exhilaration of having a 'partner in crime', someone to be in 'cahoots with'. Like a pair of naughty school kids getting into mischief, rather than an adult partnership. Ray is all about immediate gratification over long term fulfilment because (as children do), they don't possess the wisdom and experience to think ahead. Ray seems unable to grasp repercussions or consequences in his decision making. It's always act first, think second.

To put it simply, Ray hasn't been taught boundaries and how to respect them. He just gets criticised for crossing them which doesn’t help him learn. No one has had the patience to teach him why and how. To guide, to steer, to direct, to mentor. To educate rather than scold. Prevention rather than cure. As a result, everyone around Ray serves to clean up his messes rather than equip him with the ability to not create them in the first place. He falls into patterns of behaviour that no one has seriously attempted to break which has only amplified with adulthood. The longer those habits prevail, the harder they are to change.

Does Ray harbour ill-will or bad intent?

Is Ray the worst? In my opinion, no. (Not yet anyway - I might eat my words later, who knows). I've said this somewhere before but intent makes all the difference when judging someone's actions. Choosing to actively cause harm whilst being fully conscious of the impact versus triggering damage to occur as a symptom of your behaviour is vastly different. This is where Ray and Boston differ. Boston acts without remorse, he purposely and calculatingly makes choices that will cause the maximum degree of suffering. Whereas Ray's a loose cannon. He leaves a trail of destruction where he goes, due to a lack of control and means to channel how he feels in a constructive manner. Boston's victims are targets, whereas Ray's victims are collateral.

I don't think Ray means to purposely hurt or harm the people he cares about. Because in doing so, he'll push them away - which is precisely what he doesn't want. (Though saying that, Ray doesn't seem to give as much of a damn if it's people he isn't invested in, such as Top). Ray's world consists of what Ray needs. It's not that he doesn't care about a single person besides himself, he's just so wrapped up in his own needs to even gauge the bigger picture.

When others do point out to Ray that he's hurt them, he does tend to look guilty and taken aback, as if he's thinking, 'But I didn't know. No one told me. I had no idea my actions would cause you to be upset'. Painful levels of ignorance. But I also see a huge amount of internalised frustration. 'But why? Why didn't anyone explain this to me? How was I to know?'

Ray is capable of showing remorse, of displaying guilt. He's not cold-blooded. Anyone who can demonstrate compassion is capable of redemption. Ray is seen to be genuinely appreciative and grateful when people are good to him. He's fiercely protective over people he cares about. Ray was also willing to jump in when Sand gets a call from his mum being in trouble.

One thing I do have to stress is the difference in Ray's demeanour when he's severely drunk/high versus when he's sober. His addiction tends to amplify his most primal desires, his most 'childlike' traits. The uglier sides of Ray presented in their worst light, set to maximum. The raging tantrums, the absurd and unpredictable demands, an explosive and dangerous impulsiveness. People often refer to addiction as a form of sickness, which is worth noting when the person under scrutiny is effectively not well.

Learning by Example

Now let's talk about the huge importance of Sand in this equation.

Let me be clear - it's not Sand's responsibility to teach Ray how to grow up or behave more like a functioning adult. It's neither his duty to be a stand-in parent or caretaker. The unfortunate truth is that Ray doesn't have anyone in his life who plays that role. Who is the voice of reason. To keep him on the straight and narrow. In order to actually incite change, Ray needs to be receptive to whoever is trying to help him. We've seen he doesn't respond particularly well to the majority of people in his life. He's defensive with his father, his friends, deflective and pandering with Mew. The only person he's seen to show any signs of actually listening to and registering is Sand.

Whilst it's not fair on Sand, he might be the only person who has any real chance of encouraging healthy and positive growth in Ray. Because Sand loves Ray, he genuinely wants to see improvement for Ray's own good. I don't think it's a coincidence that we tend to see Ray's more endearing side when he's with Sand. His childlike qualities take on a sweeter, more harmless, playful tone.

He needs someone with an almost parental level of unconditional love to not give up on him, where others have thrown in the towel. Ray's character is essentially a personified cry for help. His mother was unable to cope. His father seems chronically exasperated and far too busy to actually be present. His friends have always seen him as bothersome and too much of a handful.

I personally don't want to write Ray off as a lost cause. Ironically, Sand may be the saviour he didn't ask for, but the one he really needs. Someone who can save him from himself.

[oaxleaf]

mag 117 - testament

if i were to rank all the episodes of tma, this would no doubt be in the top ten, maybe top five. i'm the kinda person who tends relistens to my favourite parts of things rather than the whole thing, and i have listened to this a good ten times. thus, expect this to be stupidly long

jon is showing a somewhat uncharacteristic display of spiteful self-destruction here, hoping that elias' plan doesn't work. he definitely has tendency to be spiteful and bitter, and as is pretty clear he doesn't exactly value his own life and safety very highly, but it's not very often those two traits are combined. what is significantly more characteristic, though, is extreme feelings of responsibility (which inevitably leads to guilt)

jon choosing to trust the others is one of my absolute favourite scenes throughout the whole show. there is such an emphasis on how the choices we don't know we make can end up destorying us, a sort of butterfly effect, but this is a total different type of choice. very deliberate, and something that is actually good for him. even before his breakdown he wasn't exactly a trusting person, so, like i have pointed out before in other posts, it's only really this trauma that drives him to this development

basira here has an odd type of self-realization. she finally snaps out of the type of mindless apathy she's been in for so long, the one that makes her bury herself in a book and ignore the world. she is so so close to understanding her flaws and comabtting them, since she does actually take more action from here on forward. yet, she does seem to miss the core of her issues, which is her unwillingness to be in anyway sentimental about or look deeper into things. she'll keep on moving with the same straight focus and practicality, something that will save her in the short hand but holds her back more and more as she is directly faced with more morally complex situations that she can't us logic or rationality to get out of

melanie is, in quite a few ways, pretty similar to tim here. a mixture of anger and depression and slowly giving up that really manages to capture me. i find a lot of relatable things in how she seems so used to things, but that doesn't make her less angry. just because she's been scrabbling and being trampled at the bottom of the ladder her whole life doesn't make things hurt less

she does, however, seem to try and find an identity beyond that. something which is really hard when the whole world seems to be against you. she tries to go beyond her anger and bitterness, and i think that is why she chooses to tell jon about her trip to india. she's not being compelled, after all, and has no actual reason to tell him. i think she just wants to try being vulnerable. at the end though, she retreats back to herself, defensive as always - a pattern she's repeated many times

martin really is on the verge of breaking. just like jon, he is someone who really prefers action to doing nothing, even if that's a trait he represses for a long time. here, for once, he gets to be independent. i think the most interesting parts of this are displayed in the next episode

daisy remains practical and uninterested as ever. even basira indulges jon in the tape recorders, but daisy never becomes all that captured with them. which i think is also part of why she makes such a good companion to him later on, but that's another tangent. simply, she acknowledges it but has zero interest in venting to it

the 'i have a feeling i'm not coming back from this' trope is one i always go feral for. it hurts so much but it's so good. tim has already pretty much given up here and there isn't much more to say about it. it's bitter and painful and we all know the end is near. i think the most interesting part is that, near the end, tim presents jon with a proper, head-on moral dilemma: will he have the guts to do what it takes? a question that sort of becomes meaningless when in the end jon is stuck in the unknowing and tim takes action into his own hands, but an interesting question nontheless. would he be able to do it?

and, finally, to me, jon burning gerry's page reads like a final act of rebellion before jon 'officially' looses his humanity to the eye post-unknowing. i don't think he would have been able to burn that page after waking up from his coma

[sukiglycerin]

offer up your heart! || tomura shigaraki.

* pairing: tomura shigaraki x reader (gender neutral!)

* genre: fluff !! (does prose count?)

* words: 1, 142

* warnings: a bit of insecure shigaraki, so many metaphors

* original request: AAAA IM SO SCARED! i didn’t see any list of specific stuff you don’t accept, so could i request a shigaraki x reader fluff where he’s lowkey obsessed and holds off telling her he loves her? i’m just looking for cute shigaraki stuff bc everything is only smut-

* a/n: so the inspiration for this fic also inspired me to pick up the snk manga, once again, and finish it. sasageyo, what a moving song you are. i know most translations say it means "devote your heart," but "offer up" sounds more eloquent for this scenario. it was truly a pleasure to write for shigaraki! i hope you enjoy this. @toishi is the best for proofreading this.

love is a fickle thing for tomura shigaraki, a slippery word that budges from the back of his throat and holds his heart so tenderly he fears it might break. it's love that has him so apprehensive to what he considers the "normal world," where love is laced in the very core of humanity, polishing words he hears while walking in public and glazing every action and gesture of those around him. everywhere he wanders, love is nonchalantly offered from human to human, as if it is not the most vulnerable part of them that clasps the entirety of their existence as a human so. love is not something tomura can think of himself offering up anytime soon - no, no, it leaves him too vulnerable and weak. 

but then again, love has never been something you asked of tomura, has it? you've never asked for more than what he gave, finding comfort in your shared silences and his feeble attempts at affection. you've never asked him to do more than what he's comfortable doing; you don't want his heart on a platter offered up to you in a dazzling spectacle. you know his heart is yours already. if it's for you, he thinks he can be a hero of some sort.

it's a funny thought, seizing his stomach and twisting it, leaving him queasy. him, a hero when he destroys everything he touches? you put these naive thoughts into his head, sentiments unfelt for over a decade by him. he can't even complain, a fool in love. he, perhaps the good guy in your fairytale, even when he's terrified to touch you most days - terrified of a fuck-up, to lose everything and you with one wrong move. he's so- so apprehensive, even after a year, because everytime he closes his eyes he can see his dog, his sister - you. he wants to hold your hand but he can't even do that - what sort of lover was he, unable to properly love? he's afraid that one day he'll mess up and his euphoric rome will come crumbling down, scattering at his feet so that all he sees in front of him is a vast plane of dust and mirages of what once was. he doesn't want your hand to be all he has left of you. he cusses himself, because why is this his life? 

but you're patient and you hold him with those gentle hands of yours, brushing the hair out of his tired eyes. you say it's okay, as if you can read his intrusive thoughts and push them out with the hands of your words. one day, he'll tell you. 

one day, he'll verbalize the bubbling feelings within him, even though he doesn't need to. he loves you, every morning and every evening and every moment in between. he loves you in every waking moment so much that it consumes his being as a whole until he cannot recognize himself, and all he sees in his reflection is you. 

somedays he'd stare at his hands, at his fingertips - delicate and lithe, yet capable of so, so much atrocious destruction. he'd run a line along the miniscule ridges of his fingerprints, tracing the patterns that created the life he has today. in his endeavors they were useful, but he'd always cuss them out. he never wanted this. he swears again under his breath as he drags his nail across the pad of his finger.

one day you caught him doing this, looking so loathesomely at his hands, at its power. you hesitantly show him gloves, only if he wants. they're black and all the fingers save the pinkie are missing. you tell him that this way, all five of his fingers won't be touching something at once. 

like this, looking into your nervous eyes, tomura thinks he knows what love is. he thinks he knows of the mysterious matter making up his heart and clouding his senses, and he tells you he loves the gloves. they're just substitute words for the true message, but you know them. i love you too, you say.

he tries the gloves and it takes a while for him to get used to them. they work, of course, and now his pinkie won't have to feel so lonely anymore. the first thing he holds is an apple, with all five of his fingers, rather than an awkward position leaving his pinkie stuck out. the bottom of it's comfortably in his palm, half of the sensation obscured by the soft fabric, and his fingers wrap around the shiny, red flesh of the fruit. the stem grazes the side of his pointer finger, and he's acutely aware of the bumps and curves his hand wraps around. he memorizes the weight of the apple against his pinkie and its stable solidness with his whole hand around it. and for seconds, for minutes - it stays like that, as if time never passed. it stays in his hand, uncrumbling, and-hm

"tomura, love? why are you staring so intensely at an apple?" you walk into the living room, sitting next to him on the couch.

he immediately abandons the apple, setting it in the fruit bowl on the table. he looks at you, this time, and outstretches a slow, hesitant hand towards you. your eyes fixate on it, mesmerized by the action. there's a light shimmering behind your irises. for a split second, tomura thinks that he'd hate to be the one to knock out that light, then his hand is reeling back. before his arm can settle at its typical position by his side, your hand reaches for his wrist. you have a tender grip on his wrist as you bring it back up to your face, leaning your cheek to his cold hand.

you appear to revel in the sensation, and tomura doesn't know whether his heart tumbles or somersaults. has he abandoned you for so long? it tugs at his heart strings, but your reassuring smile plays a melodious tune with them. he traces the features of your face with his thumb, from the bridge of your nose to its tip, brushing your lips and following your cheekbone up. you rest your hand on top of his, keeping his in place, and close your eyes. happiness dances on your relaxed features, a graceful waltz captivating his attention.

though he doesn't say it, he knows it. he knows of the promise he's made himself and he almost utters it. your love feels tangible, soft and resolute in his hand. it's a blanket he once feared that he can now wholeheartedly embrace. he plants a careful, gentle kiss on your cheek - he loves you, he's sure, unconditionally and fearlessly. his heart may not be on a platter, but he trusts it in your hands.