#and didn't speak enough english to easily communicate?

[lazycats-stuff]

Hello I hope you are well I wanted to make a request about a little male reader that he is a Green Lantern who ends up in Gotham for something related to space drug trafficking but for unspecified reasons he ends up being very attached to Batman a lot as if he were his son small and the bat family ends up making fun of him for this.

I really apologize if there are any spelling mistakes, English is not my first language and I hope I don't bother you with this request.

Hey, English isn't my first language too, so no worries. Of course I can make this, sorry that this took so long though...

Summary: (Y/N) gets attached to Batman.

Warnings: is the ending rushed? Maybe, nothing major, minor cursing here and there, but only one or two

(Y/N) never knew that if he ever took that ring that he would be a Green Lantern and that it would catapult him into this world of justice, injustice and a gray area of the world of criminals. While it is an incredible experience that most people will never experience, such as flying and having powers, but of course, everything has a bad side.

Such as trauma, PTSD, lack of trust towards people and more so towards humanity as a whole. And (Y/N) lost faith in all creatures as it is, since he is responsible for space as well. More often than not, he would travel to space and he would have to investigate there. More people would think that alien species would be more above of human crimes.

Think again.

They were just as bad, if not more worse. (Y/N) had difficult bumps in his hero life. Being a young hero, all alone, with no one to fall back on is rather difficult. Seeing the awful things in this line of work is hard enough, but not having anyone to fall back onto, it makes it even more harder.

But seeing justice being handed to those who deserve it, seeing the victims being empowered... That's something that keeps him going. And is justice always perfect like people would like to think so?

No. But (Y/N) saw that justice takes care of the innocent. Late or early, it always comes when you least expect it.

And that's what kept him going, to keep helping everyone he could. Through all the hardships... It kept him going.

Soon enough, he was introduced into the Justice League and to Flash, Superman, Wonder Woman, Aquaman, Cyborg and of course, the infamous Batman. He soon became a member as well and that came with a shit ton of help.

Better equipment, communication and more information that he previously couldn't get or didn't have access to. It made his life much more easier and the cases moved quicker due to the before mentioned information. (Y/N) was on cloud 9 as it is.

However, there was a slight problem called Batman.

(Y/N) was slightly afraid of the man, but in awe at the same time. Batman was a detective known all over the world. His detective skills are impressive, almost like Sherlock Holmes', which is impressive. And with today's technology, Batman is nothing short of a great detective.

But then again, there is a problem with the man's demeanor. He is scary as hell. The man just pops out out of thin air and makes your blood pressure rise to the moon itself. But he is a good mentor when he needs to be and when someone needs guidance. It's something that fascinates (Y/N) about the duality of the man.

And, (Y/N) doesn't have a father so he may or may not get attached. Either way, (Y/N) has some sort of respect for Batman, but more out of fear.

As of now, (Y/N) was going to kill someone. He was on this drug trafficking case for a long while, bouncing from one point A to a point A,1. He couldn't get to point A to point B directly as it should have been. Oh no. Oh God no. Why would (Y/N) get it so easily?

At last, (Y/N) has made it to the almost point B. That almost point B came down to Earth. More specifically, to Gotham city. To Batman's domain, so to speak. Sure, saying domain is rather dramatic, but everyone knows that Gotham City is off limits for anyone who is not Batman.

So, (Y/N) threaded carefully in the city, looking for the people who were needed in his case. He tried to be as covert as possible. That, everyone, went to shit rather quickly.

" What are you doing here? " Batman asked from behind him in his gravelly voice, making (Y/N) jump into the air like a scared cat, grabbing his chest like an old lady.

" Jesus! What the hell?! " (Y/N) exclaimed, leaning down onto his knees.

" What are you doing here? " Batman asked again in his deep and gravelly voice.

" I'm here on a lead of my drug trafficking case. And before you say something, I'm not leaving until I solve it. I led me everywhere and the last stop is here. " (Y/N) said with determination in his voice, however, inwardly, he was shaking in his boots. Batman is scary, can you blame him?

" There has been a new drug on the streets that has been causing problems here... " Batman noted and then looked at (Y/N) and it took everything in him that he doesn't buckle at this very moment. His glare was piercing.

" It seems we are going to work together. " (Y/N) said and Batman simply called someone and (Y/N) wasn't sure what to make of that. Why is the man so cold?

" We will work together, but I'm taking charge since it's my city here. What do you know about the drug and it's distributers? "

And that's how their chaotic friendship and paternal looking up started. (Y/N) has learnt a few tricks from Batman who has years under his belt as a detective really taught (Y/N) some things that will help him in his investigations later on. (Y/N) didn't think that Batman would be such a great mentor, but he was.

Tough and firm when he needed to be, when (Y/N) felt weak and hopeless in this case. And when (Y/N) was clueless, he would be pointed into the right direction and was allowed to learn on his own, with subtle hints. And reassuring when he felt insecure about his powers.

And in the meantime, he met the entire family, starting with the oldest Dick and ending with Damian, the youngest one in the family and the only biological one in the family.

Everything would have been normal if (Y/N) didn't bond with Bruce so out of nowhere. Almost like he would have been his son. Bruce had absolutely no explanation for this. And neither did (Y/N).

But did either of them complain? No.

Did the boys decide to absolutely make fun of the situation? Hell yes.

Dick would often joke that Bruce has a radar for the orphans, regardless of the region where they lived.

Jason would often compare Bruce to a solitary creature that comes out of its lair to seek them and bring them to the lair. Bruce more often then not rolls his eyes at the remark.

Tim simply calls him a new brother and Damian has often joked that (Y/N) is a long lost son of Bruce.

Of course, all of this was in good nature, no malice behind any of those words. Boys liked (Y/N), not minding it all, but they are still allowed to have fun with the situation.

[slugtranslation-hypmic]

I Think Hypmic's Portrayal of Gender Roles is Kinda Refreshing: An Essay A.K.A. I'm Procrastinating on a Weekend Deadline :)

Hypmic's talking points on gender are hamfisted, corny, and melodramatic. "Maybe...we shouldn't have a wage gap," is not the hottest of takes. However, like most things in Hypmic, the writers have a lot more to say about gender and gender roles in the framing of the story itself that's much more nuanced. And honestly? It's kinda refreshing.

It's also something that went way over my head when I first became a Hypmic fan. Sure, I read manga and played Japanese video games--usually translated into English first--but I didn't have enough exposure to hundreds or thousands of pieces of untranslated Japanese media. I'm going to guess that most Hypmic fans don't either, which is totally fine and normal. We all exist within our respective cultural communities wherein we're bombarded with messages constantly telling us how to act, think, and speak. We tend to absorb these messages on subconscious levels and reflect them in the art we create and stories we tell, either by reinforcing them or challenging them. Thus, our stories don't exist in a vacuum, and divorcing stories from their cultural backgrounds can suggest the artist is the original thinker of a larger concept or hide their specific point of criticism. That is, if I wrote a story about a man who chooses to not catch fish, drink beer, and drive a Dodge Ram pick-up truck, we should be aware that I'm not the person who conceptualized the stereotype of dudes who catch fish, drink beer, and drive pick-ups. I wouldn't deserve the credit for dreaming up that exact image, and at the same time, it would be incorrect to read that as me targeting those three things randomly. The choice to not drive a Dodge Ram pick-up is not a commentary on Fiat Chrysler Automobiles. It's a stand-in for the notion of masculinity.

Thing is, we're hit with messages about masculinity, femininity, and other gender-related concepts on a daily basis. No matter where you live or what language you speak, every person on Earth is inundated with messages saying, "This is what you are, and consequently, this is how you should act." Our relation to these messages is complicated, and this complexity is compounded by different cultural communities preaching different messages in their stories, marketing, and human interactions. For instance, the US's massive global cultural influence means that those outside the US can still easily recognize what I mean by catching fish, drinking beer, and driving enormous American pick-up trucks. But the location and cultural differences may add or subtract nuances. A person living in, say, Munich is unlikely to have Dodge pick-ups advertised to them the way a person in rural Texas would. Our fictional Munich person does not feel the same social pressures to buy a Dodge and represent their masculinity with a Dodge the way our imaginary Texan would. In turn, the Munich person likely sees a Dodge with an element of absurdity--who the hell needs such a big truck in a European city?--and foreign Americanness. The Texan wouldn't have that concern--why worry about navigating your enormous truck down narrow streets when you live in the countryside?--and sees Americanness as their local default, thus removing any element of foreignness.

That is to say, gendered messages aimed at people (especially women) who live in Japan don't affect me the same way as they impact those who do live in Japan. Like, it's not my dog in the fight, and there are plenty of people who are directly affected who write their own stories and commentaries on gender roles in Japan. Japanese women don't need a random guy in the US to stand up and say, "Damn, your gender roles are fucked!" 1) They already know. 2) They're already saying it. So I come at this from an angle of someone who already has deep, primary frustration with the gendered messaging in my culture and secondary frustrations when similar messages appear in other cultures. I don't have a bone to pick with Japanese media in particular. Plain and simple, reading and working on hundreds of pieces of Japanese media is what I do for a living. It's in my face constantly, and as a result, I am also perpetually bombarded by messages about gender roles in Japanese media.

It's not a hot take to say that Japanese media, like the media of every single other culture around the globe, has a lot to say about gender. There's a lot of slotting people into boxes and telling people what to do. It's chafing, as we see all across history in art produced in reaction to gender roles. In the past couple of decades, global shifts in gender roles have caused media to shift the messages they're pushing, but it's not controversial to say that Japan has lagged behind other countries like the US.

Many, many stories push arbitrary notions of how to be a girl or how to be a boy that don't necessarily come from the author themselves. The authors probably aren't even fully conscious that they're making these choices. If an author writes a story about a library and makes every female character a romance fan and every male character an action fan, it's likely a reflection of endless messaging that says action is for boys, romance is for girls. In turn, this story becomes yet another reinforcing message. If no fictional girls like action, and no fictional boys like romance, it becomes alienating for real girls and boys who don't follow these same rules. These rules are everywhere and have so much to say about gender that it's hard to know where to begin. Girls must like cute things. Boys can't like sweet food. Women must not express sexual desire. Men can't be shy. On and on and on.

Which is why, when there's a relative lack of this in Hypmic, it's kind of a breath of fresh air.

Wrong Ways to Be a Man

Actually, Hypmic does have a few moments where characters claim there are certain things men or women should do, but the writing always frames these messages as incorrect.

Take Samatoki, for instance. After Kuukou and Sasara leave MCD, Samatoki tells Ichirou, "Men shouldn't cry when they lose their friends. Men should only cry when they lose a family member."

(TDD chapter 10)

This line usually appears via Ichirou's perspective. In the stage play, it's told during a song Ichirou narrates, and as shown above in panel 3, the manga frames the line from the angle at which Ichirou sees it. In such moments, the audience is meant to read this as a cool line from a strong mentor figure to Ichirou. That's how Ichirou sees it, and he's a seventeen-year-old with too much on his shoulders who idolizes Samatoki. He is incapable of seeing how much pain Samatoki struggles with.

However, when the manga focuses on more intimate moments of Samatoki's life, we see that Samatoki does struggle quite a lot.

(BB/MTC+ chapter 6)

This isn't a cool, attractive figure meant to be idolized. While Samatoki's cigarette usage and aggressiveness are often framed as sexy or enticing, the juxtaposition with dirty laundry, overflowing ashtrays, and empty bottles make him a sympathetic and struggling figure. Therefore, we should understand that his notion that men don't cry is flawed. It's a means to distract himself from emotions he doesn't want to feel.

Later, as Samatoki begins to process his emotions and open up to his teammates, the unhealthy coping mechanisms recede. Samatoki is more confident, mature, and happier as a result of being more emotionally vulnerable.

We see a similar transformation with Kuukou. As a teen, Kuukou is reluctant to accept help or truly let anyone in. In a conversation with Hitoya, he says (and I am still completely unable to take this seriously), "A man's got to wipe his own ass."

(DH/BAT chapter 4)

However, over the course of his character arc, Kuukou learns that he cannot exist as a good leader or individual without the teamwork of his newfound "family." Only rejecting this classical and toxic notion of masculinity brings Kuukou joy.

In fact, most of the first-line characters have very similar arcs. At the start of the story, Ichirou is insistent on doing everything himself. He has to learn to be able to rely on other people (Kuukou, Samatoki, Ichirou and Jirou) to be happier and unlock his true strength. See below, his final attack and Ability use in the 2nd DRB, which is only possible when his brothers figuratively and literally support him through it.

(BB/MTC+ chapter 25)

Sasara struggles with emotional honesty and trust in favor of using humor to gloss over discomfort. It takes multiple heart-to-hearts with Roshou before he can let humor take a backseat and say how he really feels. Ramuda has difficulty trusting other people and being honest with his emotions when faced with stressful scenarios. Only through Fling Posse is he able to open up and ask for help instead of driving people away when the problems are too big for him to face alone. Jakurai struggles to connect with other people, work through and acknowledge his complicated feelings, and not place himself on a pedestal. Through Matenrou, Jakurai is able to ask for help, be more open, and ultimately be less hard on himself.

The second- and third-line characters follow similar arcs, and this repetition creates a core message for Hypmic: Trust and rely other people. Be open with your feelings. There's a wrong way to be a man, and that's to hurt yourself and other people.

Right Ways to Be a Man...Are Infinite!

But with that being said, there is a surprising lack of commentary on how else to be a man. Hypmic as a whole doesn't do much to constrain the male characters in terms of gender roles.

Sure, some characters do fit into more traditionally masculine roles--Ichirou, Samatoki, Riou, etc. The messaging makes it clear that it isn't wrong to play into masculinity provided it doesn't become toxic. (See above.)

Even then, however, these especially masculine characters are associated with less masculine traits that are either portrayed positively or not portrayed as a joke. Riou is an avid cook, but the joke is never that he wears an apron and knows his way around an outdoor kitchen (tee-hee, men don't cook!). It's that he cooks with horrifying ingredients. Samatoki is a fashionista, but the joke is framed as a counterpart to Ichirou's nerdiness.

(DoD chapter 1)

Here, it's funny that neither of them can shut up (the ペラペラ/blah blah SFX, the long bubbles filled with lots of text that's cut to indicate they kept going for longer), but the object of their attention--a model toy and a pair of jeans--are treated in the same neutral light. It's very common for stories to touch on, even defensively, the social taboo of men being into clothes. Hypmic doesn't even acknowledge that such a taboo could exist.

This is subtle but extraordinarily effective in giving characters the same consideration and weight. The more feminine characters are always treated just as sincerely (or, if there's a joke to be made, irreverently) as the more masculine characters. Take Ramuda, for instance. In Japanese media, a love of sweets is often characterized as feminine and will often be remarked upon, even in LGBT+ media, as atypical for men. Again, there's zero acknowledgement of such a thing in Hypmic. Whenever other characters talk about Ramuda's food intake, it's always framed as a concern about the lack of nutrition.

(FP/M chapter 11... I don't have the source lying around on my computer, so here's the old-ass scanlation lol)

It's also given the exact same weight as anyone else's junk food habits. Here, MCD goes out for burgers (a neutral to masculine-coded food due to the meat and high calorie count) while Ramuda opts to try a sugary Starbucks-esque drink. The parallelism in the comic's framing suggests that the two objects are functionally the same, and there is no comment that a sugary drink is feminine and therefore "inappropriate" for Ramuda. There's also no indication that MCD's preferences are in any way better. They simply happen to be the characters' personal preferences. The punchline is two groups splitting up, only to awkwardly run into each other again moments later.

(DoD volume 4 bonus comic)

Similarly, Ramuda's interest in clothes or fashion is never treated negatively--in fact, the discussions of clothes as a means to find identity and happiness make it a positive!

In ARB cards and promotional materials, Ramuda sometimes wears dresses. It's, again, portrayed in parallel to other characters wearing more masculine clothes and is never commented on as something "unusual." It's just who Ramuda is.

Hifumi is another interesting case. Like Ramuda, his playful personality often doesn't as stereotypically masculine. (To be clear, I read much of this as "gender neutral with a strong emphasis on youth" versus "feminine" in a way that I'm not sure has a good US equivalent...metrosexual/yuppie men's fashion, maybe? In the sense that it's a youth subculture that defies some masculine gender roles but is still focused mainly on men. I wish I was more well-versed in Japanese men's fashion and could give an exact term, but I'm what I'm thinking of is definitely an established thing--young, trendy dudes whose styles focus on poppiness vs. the rugged manly man or "idk, I'm just some guy" subcultures. It's a thing that pisses off old Japanese conservative men in the same fashion as people getting up in arms about "the gayz!!!1!" and their androgynous clothing lol.) Their personalities are often the butt of jokes, but only in the same way that Dice or Doppo are--that is, that they're exaggerated and over the top. There's no commentary on masculinity or lack thereof.

There are also moments when Hifumi, Gentarou, or other characters play feminine characters in roleplay moments, which is usually (but not always) not the sole joke. The audience is supposed to find it funny, but the humor is almost always centered on the absurdity of the scene as a whole. For instance, in a moment where Hifumi and Doppo are pretending to be two drunk karaoke-goers, the humor comes from the composite set-up of Hifumi's hair twirl, Doppo's untucked shirt and tie, Doppo and Hifumi's exaggeratedly flirtatious poses, the spotlights and sparkles, and the same font as used on classic karaoke machines.

(FP/M+ September 2022 oneshot)

Hifumi and Doppo do not perform traditional gender roles in their homelife, and while it's easy to see and often commented on in the English-speaking fanbase when it comes to Hifumi, I find it just as prevalent on Doppo. It's true that Hifumi is taking a feminine role by doing the majority of the household's cooking and cleaning, but if we were to assume Doppo has the masculine role in the household, he would have the breadwinner duty. However, he isn't the main source of income for their household, and he's just as unassertive in finding a (female) romantic partner as Hifumi is. Japanese men are bombarded with media messages stressing the importance of taking an active role in career and romance. That Doppo does not would, in many stories, make him the butt of a joke for not living up to masculine gender roles. But he isn't; instead, Hypmic portrays him as a sympathetic character. It's tough, Hypmic says, for people to get good jobs and maintain friendships/relationships as an adult.

Similarly, it's noteworthy that Hifumi's self-appointed term "Gigolo" is consistently portrayed as a good thing in Hypmic. The meaning of the English term aside, the Japanese word ジゴロ (jigoro) is almost always used as an insult for a man who is financially dependent on one or multiple women. In the strictest sense of the term, Hifumi is a jigoro in that his income derives from his female clients. However, there is never any shame associated with that, and as a whole, Hifumi's career as a host is shown to be a positive thing. I can't express enough how rare that is in any sort of semi-serious media. Certainly, Hypmic acknowledges that his job requires too much drinking (Doppo's verse in Hoodstar), but the overall portrayal is overwhelmingly positive. Hifumi and his coworkers are never treated as uneducated, boorish, or pathetic for "failing" to find other work that does not require flirting with and entertaining women. (This is partially due to the overlapping judgment with sex work.)

All the various harmless preferences and personality traits of the male characters are treated equally with no judgement over what's masculine or non-masculine. Within the broader context of Japanese media, this absence of judgment stands out and reinforces one of Hypmic's core themes: Differences make us better, not worse. In the end, Hypmic suggests, there's no one right way to be a man.

Right Ways to Be a Woman...Are Just as Infinite!

But what about women? This series is, after all, marketed mainly towards women, and while female audience members can no doubt extrapolate the lessons learned from the male characters, it's worth taking a look at the female characters too.

The female characters do receive much less screen time than the men and are not the focus in the series; I'd argue that's less an issue of overt sexism and more that they fall out of focus in the story the writers want to tell. (There's a broader discussion to be had about inherent sexism in the writers' focus which goes hand-in-hand with rap industries across the globe favoring men and rap being an example of exaggerated masculinity, but that's a topic for another day.)

Even so, the framing of the female characters is interesting in a couple key respects. The individual character arcs and motivations of the main female characters are, in my opinion, some of the weakest parts of Hypmic--many times, Otome and Ichijiku do things because the plot demands them to, making them look incompetent or needlessly cruel for characters we're supposed to sympathize with. Nemu's story seems to be handled with more care and takes an interesting twist, wherein she openly acknowledges that she's disenfranchised as a woman in modern Japan but rejects the notion that she needs to find strength on either Ichirou or Samatoki's (male) terms. By choosing to be strong in "her own way" (whatever that means...it's not well-defined), the authors are using Nemu to reject the notion that strength and power are inherently masculine.

What I find to be far more interesting is the character design for the Chuuouku women, both in what is said and what is not said.

To begin with, the characters and their portrayals run the gambit from highly sexualized to completely non-sexual. Some characters (especially Ichijku and Honobono) have conventionally attractive, curvy body types and are often drawn in ways that highlight their bodies.

(FP/M+ chapter 4)

(FP/M+ chapter 14)

In some cases, especially Honobono's, the enticing nature of the illustrations is framed as the character's choice; in the above, her words indicate that she wants to seduce the off-screen listeners. The images included above are largely representative of these characters' raps, regardless of illustrator.

But on the flip side, other characters with large breasts or hips are never drawn in a sexual fashion. By way of comparison, here are two shots of Nemu rapping.

(BB/MTC+ chapter 12)

Even in shots with dynamic poses, no attention is drawn to Nemu's figure in any sort of provocative sense. Nemu touches her chest, drawing the reader's eye there, but the artist does not emphasize the size of her chest--they're allowing a chest touch to be no more than an emphasis of the self. At the same time, Nemu's body isn't downplayed. We can see in panel 2 on page 2 that Nemu has a small waist and wider hips, but once again, she isn't being sexualized. The action lines draw the reader's eye to Samatoki and thus put the action first and foremost. This creates the idea that not only can characters portray themselves sexually, but they can just as easily choose not to.

We see similar with Otome, who does not wear any sort of revealing clothing and is never shown in a sexual fashion. However, Hypmic doesn't equate revealing clothing to sexual portrayals either! While I wouldn't call Tsumabira's outfit revealing, she does have more visible cleavage than most Chuuouku figures. However, her bare chest is never sexualized like Ichijiku's.

(BB/MTC+ chapter 4)

Compare the non-emphasis on the chest and the power stance to any of the many shots of Ichijuku where her breasts are front and center in the camera. Speaking of power stance, Tsumabira remains confident in her power stance without being sexy--that is, no stepping on the camera and showing her whole leg.

Which isn't to say that Tsumabira is a sexless character. She's drawn visibly turned on by the male characters in such a way that is cartoonish but not, in turn, overly sexual. Were this supposed to be titillating to the reader, I would have expected to see a larger close-up on her face and tongue. However, the artist (who is no stranger to focusing on tongues!) devotes the majority of the panel to Tsumabira's body language (which, again, doesn't absurdly exaggerate any of her proportions or focus on her chest) and covers part of the mouth with text bubbles. Tsumabira is drawn as engaging in sexual behavior without being sexualized for reader entertainment.

(FP/M+ chapter 4)

The juxtaposition of such different views with little to no judgement attached to any of them suggests that it's perfectly okay to want to be sexy or not, to wear revealing clothing or not, to be involved in sexual situations without being the object of sexual interest, or to simply exist with an attractive body type without sex ever coming into the equation. Just as some characters choose to tie bodies to sexiness, some don't whatsoever--and either is perfectly fine!

The former idea ("I can choose to be sexy") may not sound especially revolutionary to US audiences, where sexuality is thrust upon women willingly or otherwise, but I find it fascinating because it lets the main characters embrace this idea without associated slut shaming. So much of Japanese media insists that women should be sexy but are also wrong for wanting to indulge in their own sexuality. Therefore, having characters who run virtually every iteration of take on the topic (I want to engage in sexuality and be sexualized, I want to engage in sexuality without being sexualized, I don't want to engage in either) with multiple body types (ie, Tsumabira isn't automatically not sexualized because she has a smaller chest; Nemu isn't automatically sexualized because she has a bigger chest) and no judgement involved feels like another breath of fresh air to me.

As a whole, I find the diversity of the Chuuouku uniforms and character appearances quite interesting. They're undeniably all feminine and relatively militaristic, but different characters wear entirely different wardrobes. Skirts vs pants, blouses vs dresses, high heels vs boots... Since every character has her own take on the common theme, it once again feeds into the idea that each character is her own individual and perfectly valid for defining femininity in her own way.

Haircuts, too, range from longer and more feminine hairstyles to pixie cut-esque looks.

(BB/MTC+ chapter 16)

Again, nothing of the framing suggests this short-haired woman is in any way different from her longer-haired counterparts on the edges of this screenshot.

Finally, while most Chuuouku women are conventionally attractive, I find it extremely compelling that Haebaru is a stereotype of an unattractive Japanese woman. To be extremely clear, I do not think these stereotypes should have weight, but the combination of chubby and/or muscular build, freckles, rounded nose, and non-glossy hair is often used as a visual shorthand for unattractive or otherwise undesirable women.

Sure, it's not fantastic that Haebaru is a scheming, two-bit villain. However, so is virtually every other female character in the series, and in particular, Haebaru is (the conventionally attractive) Tsumabira's counterpart. Both are treated with the same respect or lack thereof, suggesting that one's appearance has nothing to do with your ability to be a no-good baddie. Ha ha ha.

It would be lovely if the female characters were fleshed out further and given intelligent choices and diversity outside of the realms of physical appearance. However, I do think the writers' choices are limited by virtue of all women automatically being antagonistic side characters (which, again, is another discussion altogether). What the writers can and have accomplished is further reinforcing a celebration of differences. Just as there's no one right way to be a man, there's an infinite number of ways to be a scheming snake of a woman HAHA.

Intersection with LGBT+ Topics

Unfortunately, this is a very binary look at gender and gender roles, which, while largely representative of the current state of Japanese media, can be disappointing.

Hypmic appears to want to steer shy of LGBT+ topics as a whole, which is a bit of a shame. In a story so focused on gender and acceptance of diversity, it seems the natural next step to explore the notion of those who experiences don't align with a strict gender binary. Such stories are growing in popularity in Japanese media but have yet to be anywhere near the mainstream acceptance in US media (which is still in a fledgling stage at best). I would imagine Hypmic's writers are unable or unwilling to take a definite stance on these topics in the work due to fears of financial or career backlash. If nothing else, the sexuality of the main characters needs to remain in a limbo in order to have plausible deniability for both self-shipping and shipping with other characters. (Some deniability may be more plausible than others.)

The few instances in which Hypmic does wander into this territory are usually clumsy. I am no fan of the handful of scenes where male/male attraction is supposed to be funny purely by virtue of being male/male.

The inclusion of Urumi, the one minor character explicitly LGBT+, is not stellar either. I am hesitant to apply any definite label to her, as the real-life people her stereotype portrays self-identify as everything from trans women to cis men--or refuse to use these English labels at all! Still, we know from her profession (proprietor of a bar heavily implied to be a gay bar by the neighborhood it's in), appearance (poofy permed hair, exaggerated make-up), and demeanor (feminine speech style, a bit flirtatious) that she's AMAB and choosing to present herself in a feminine fashion. By writing Jirou to ask, "Aren't you a man?" in an exasperated fashion, the writers have put her gender presentation in a boke role--suggesting she's over-the-top, exaggerated, comedic. It's not great. I completely understand why readers find it offensive (and it is) even while I don't think the writers intended it that way. Ultimately, it would have been great to see other explicitly LGBT+ characters portrayed without the joking angle.

With that said, I'm not entirely unhappy with her character. She is a stereotype, but the authors have chosen to take only the visual elements of the stereotype and leave the rest on the cutting room floor. In other works of fiction, characters like Urumi are often hypersexual to the point of being in-universe creepy, especially towards underage boys. Other times, characters like her may be eccentric or off-putting in other ways. However, that's not at all the case here. Urumi seems to play a helpful big sister/aunt role in Jirou's life, and he's clearly comfortable enough with her to spend the night at her bar.

(BB/MTC+ chapter 17. "Sorry, but can I shack up here again tonight?" "Of course you can.")

While she seems to engage in some sort of a bohemian lifestyle, as evidenced by the alcohol and smoking, it isn't anything outside of what many of the other characters do. Additionally, while she isn't drawn in a flattering fashion in scenes where she's playing up her persona (which is par for the course with any character in this series, regardless of gender), there are plenty of neutral shots of her being serious. Finally, the art is never outright rude--that is, she isn't drawn exaggeratedly masculine or flamboyantly...snakey? I don't know how to describe this to anyone who's lucky enough to have never seen this--clearly LGBT+ AMAB characters drawn with noodly limbs and huge, overblown lips winding around male characters.

Maybe because I see so much worse continuing to be produced in this day and age, I feel like Hypmic could have done a much, much worse job with this character. She overall plays a positive role and is treated with much the same care as other side characters. It's unfortunate, then, that the writers have chosen to make her gender presentation the subject of a joke.

In other frustrations, I heavily dislike the unnecessary gender divide in background characters. All punks and other background baddies are male, whereas all adoring fans are female. (But Rhyme Anima has done an interesting job of subverting this!) The vast majority of other background figures fall into strict gender roles, which is likewise disappointing. It appears that diversity may be an accepted trait for none but a lucky few that form the main Hypmic cast.

All in all, I don't think Hypmic's portrayal of gender roles is groundbreaking, nor do I think it's fair to suggest that all Japanese pop culture plays into strict gender roles. There are certainly many Japanese works, popular or otherwise, with much more interesting things to say about gender. However, when compared to the vast majority of the titles that cross my desk on a regular basis, I notice and appreciate the level of care put in to Hypmic's commentary on gender roles. The work consistently reinforces the notion that it's okay to be your own individual, no matter how that plays into your gender, and I find that freeing. That's a message we could all do to hear more often, regardless of culture and language.

TL;DR: Oh no, my rapidly approaching deadline. :)

[rin-fukuroi]

𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 [𝐀𝐥𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐦]

Please do not translate or publish my works without my permission.

The originals of my works can be read here

Fandom: Genshin Impact

Pairings: Alhaitham x fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW, Kaveh's cameo, masturbation, dacryphilia, sweet fantasies of rough blowjob;D

Note: English is not my native language, so I apologize if there are errors in the text qq

Oh, words cannot express how much I love Alhaitham, and I was always sad to see that almost no one wrote about how he masturbates. This is a huge omission, I think.

art: @eriimyon

In part, Alhaitham was even jealous of his annoying roommate. Although in many ways Kaveh's lifestyle and beliefs seemed absurd to the Secretary, he couldn't deny the fact that the unnerving architect surprisingly had the ability to easily make new acquaintances and win people over. Alhaitham has never needed such a skill, finding social interactions an empty, and sometimes even harmful, waste of time. Communication with people is not beneficial, which means it is not necessary. So why is he so desperate to communicate with you, stumbling over words every time he tries to squeeze out something more than a silent nod of greeting?

This is illogical. This goes beyond his understanding, and therefore raises more and more questions. He spends whole evenings assessing his physical condition, noting a rapid heartbeat in your presence, distraction, sudden verbal degradation, an inexplicable desire to attract your attention and…

Right now, he was really thinking about the cause of his new problem. Was the aching erection in his now tight trousers caused by irritation after Alhaitham noticed how Kaveh was frivolously cooing with you, while he still couldn't figure out why it was so damn annoying for him? Perhaps. Although earlier outbursts of anger had not caused such a reaction, the Secretary went through several more options, settling on the only one that seemed plausible and reasonable enough to him.

Alhaitham is jealous.

The Secretary is in turmoil, but mentally he ticked off all signs of jealousy, catching himself thinking that his envy and anger towards Kaveh lately were caused by feelings he had for you. How reckless and stupid. Feelings defy logic, which makes it impossible for Alhaitham to even try to control them.

This irritates the poor scientist even more when a hopeless quiet growl leaves his throat and a large palm dives under the table. He can't concentrate. You're not letting him focus. The expression of pleasure from communicating with his roommate on your face and the way Kaveh's hand rested shamelessly lightly on your shoulder, while Alhaitham didn't even dare to speak to you, infuriated the Secretary. He shouldn't have these feelings. He shouldn't be thinking about how he could grab your wrist, yanking you out of a nice conversation with a drunken loser architect living off of him. He shouldn't think that he can give you more. He shouldn't think about how, instead of wasting his time chatting with Kaveh, you could now calm his excitement, which is as uncontrollable as the feelings that are sickeningly bubbling in his chest.

And he doesn't think about it. Not at all.

His long fingers quickly straighten the belt, lowering the soft fabric of his trousers. And Alhaitham doesn't think at all about how your miniature hands could do it. While one of his hands lifts up the top that hugs his embossed torso, allowing a hard, languishing erection to hit his lower abdomen, Alhaitham doesn't think at all about what the expression on your face might be if you were under his table right now.

The Secretary hisses hopelessly, wrapping his calloused fingers around the throbbing flesh. His gaze slides over the papers scattered on the table for the last time before all thoughts of unfinished work leave his head. He can't work while you're dominating his mind like a parasite intent on destroying him from the inside. Alhaitham is so angry. Is his anger directed at you, or is he more annoyed by his own impotence? It doesn't matter anymore when his eyes blissfully close, reproducing your image under heavy eyelids.

He's so pathetic. You've barely exchanged a few phrases since he met you for the first time, and he already shamelessly imagines you sitting on your knees under his massive desk, salivating and greedily looking at his heavy cock, alluringly trembling in front of your face.

The fight against common sense was lost even at the moment when his penis treacherously rested against a muscular thigh, once again reminding Alhaitham that even he isn't immune from the primitive desires of his own body.

He wanted your soft lips to open, ready to take his entire length. Your outward purity and innocence only make the Secretary want to break you, blacken you with his insatiable cock, eager to be inside you. He's still tormented by the pathetic floundering of reason, trying to stop him and throw your vulgar image out of his head, but lust and base need immediately muffle the voice of reason, allowing Alhaitham to become an ordinary person in need of immediate discharge for just this moment.

The Secretary revels in fantasies about how you tentatively stick out your tongue, grabbing a salty bead of pre-ejaculate from the urethra with the tip to taste it, imitating this sinful action by stroking the sensitive head with the pad of your thumb. The sweet melody of your honey voice shimmers in my ears as a satisfied moan leaves your heaving chest.

Your seductive charm irritates Alhaitham even in his own fantasies, forcing him to tightly grasp a treacherous erection, repeating his own actions from the picture looming in his mind, where his fingers dive into your disheveled hair, forcibly forcing you to impale yourself on his pulsating length with one persistent and rough thrust. He can almost feel the walls of your narrow throat constricting in gagging spasms as you choke on his cock. You don't deserve mercy. You should feel in full on your own throat how great his disappointment is with his own powerlessness.

His knuckles turned white from the force with which Alhaitham clenched his fist, repeating the aggressive and ruthless pace that he set in your head in his imagination. Ah, your tears look so charming combined with the despair and silent pleading reflected in your sparkling eyes. This is what kind of Secretary would like to see you one day. Your smile makes his heart beat faster in his chest, but just the thought that the corners of your charming eyes would be filled with bitter tears of impotence from his cock destroying you from the inside, delighted Alhaitham. Perhaps he would even like Kaveh to see how you slowly lose yourself and die from his cock. Alhaitham wonders how much he could have angered his roomate if Kaveh had caught him with you doing such a vulgar thing?

The Secretary didn't even have time to notice how his hand began to gain an even more frenzied pace, his hips began to push greedily towards the movements of his palm, and his head fell back on the back of the chair while he was so desperately chasing orgasm, as if, if he slowed down even a little, he would again wallow in these unnerving warm feelings, from which he really wanted to get rid of it, at least for tonight.

Alhaitham can feel the phantom vibrations from your moans in his fantasies. You cry, pressing your nails into his hips, making pathetic attempts to slow down his movements, which further spurs the ruthless scientist to dig deeper into your throat with each new thrust. An image of your neck and the bulge under the delicate thin skin that his dick creates, stretching the spasming walls of your throat, appears before his eyes. How sweet. In his imagination, you choke, but you enjoy the way he defiles you. Your tear-stained eyes seem to beg him to cum in your mouth, but Alhaitham only grins ominously to himself, not going to indulge your desires even in his own imagination. You haven't paid enough for putting him in such a humiliating position yet.

His hips are shaking, and his cock is throbbing and swelling in his hand, which does not slow down for a second at a furious pace. His clouded mind paints a delightful picture of how his impressive organ leaves your warm throat to pour out sticky white threads on your tear-stained face. Hot jets scatter chaotically, settling in viscous drops on your hair, cheeks, eyelids and eyelashes wet with tears as you squint and whimper, still painfully pressing your fingers into his hips.

The palm swings lazily a couple more times before stopping at the base of the shuddering penis. A satisfied low and hoarse moan escapes from Alhaitham's throat and his body finally relaxes and slumps in the chair. It takes him a few seconds to descend from the height of his much-needed orgasm. The thought flashes through the scientist's mind that this pleasure was not even a tenth of what he could have experienced if he had brought all his dirty fantasies to life.

And now your image is finally leaving his mind, leaving behind a sickening aftertaste. For the first time in his life, Alhaitham feels ashamed of his own intemperance, which is completely out of character for him.

Emerald eyes open wide to tidy themselves up. The blurred silhouettes in front of his eyes finally form a clear picture, forcing the Secretary's shame to recede into the background, giving way to a new portion of irritation when he notices wet drops of his own sperm covering his palm, lower abdomen and… Documents lying on the table.

— Damn, — Alhaitham hisses, reaching for the box.

One day you'll have to pay for that too.

[sissylittlefeather]

Your Love's Been a Long Time Coming: Chapter 1

A/N: Ahhhhh a new series!!! This is the one that won the poll, so I hope y'all love it! Also, I decided to play with POV on this one, so I'm telling it from Elvis's perspective. Please let me know your thoughts in the comments!!

ICYMI, this is the Elvis x OC Vivian Choquette series. Want to learn more about her? Here.

PS- I love you @ccab for loving Vivian as much as I do before I even write the story!

Warnings: Not much, this is gonna start slow, but trust me, it'll heat up. Kissing, cussing, alcohol use, smoking

Word count: ~2.4k

By September of '59, Elvis was used to the army. He was used to the routine, used to the work, used to the people, used to the fans, and used to looking for a good time wherever he could find it. On this particular night, he found it at a party at his own house in Bad Nauheim. All his friends were there, along with a plethora of girls to keep everyone interested. Elvis moved through the party easily, making small talk and keeping everyone stocked on drinks, despite the fact that he didn't have any himself. Sometimes he imbibed, but usually he didn't. Although his beloved mama was gone, what he learned from her still lived in the forefront of his memory. That is, unless he found himself at the Moulin Rouge. But that was different. Here at his own house, he preferred to remain in control.

Despite having a girlfriend back at home, he moves through the house looking for a girl to talk to. That's when he notices her in a corner, her dark hair swept into a low ponytail and blue eyes glancing lazily around the room. She almost seems bored. So much so that she turns to the bookshelf that came with the house and pulls a book down. She opens it and begins to read. Elvis is intrigued by the kind of woman who reads at a party. He begins to walk over to her and realizes that the book is in French. He panics for a second and then remembers that the guys taught him a phrase in French. Surely he can figure out how to communicate with her. Besides, most of these French girls speak a little English.

He swaggers up to her, ready to try out his French. He stands there in front of her for a minute before she looks up at him.

"Bonjour."

"Mhmm." She looks down at her book, but he doesn't leave. He's suddenly nervous, but he decides to risk it. She's pretty enough that it might be worth it.

"Uhh, est-ce que tu aimes le sexe?"

She looks up at him suddenly and laughs.

"What? Did I pronounce it wrong?" She laughs even harder. When she finally catches her breath, she holds up a hand.

"First of all, I speak English. Second of all, please don't ever say that to anyone ever again."

"Oh. Why?"

"You just asked me if I like sex."

"What?! Those motherfu- I mean, those jerks. They told me it meant 'how are you'."

"And you believed them? It literally has the word 'sex' in it."

"Well, I don't know! I don't speak French!"

"Obviously." She looks back down at her book. He's not ready to give up, though.

"Hey, if you speak English, why are you reading in French?"

"My mother was French. I speak and read it because of her." She answers without looking up from the page.

"Was?"

"She's been gone for a while now. I live with my stepdad. He's an officer in the army." He feels the pain of having lost his mother too soon and looks at her with even more softness and affection than he did before.

"I'm Elvis." She looks up at him.

"I know." He nods and she notices the look he's giving her. "You know, I'm actually here with someone."

"Oh?"

"Mhmm." She points across the party to Charlie, who's making his way to her with drinks.

"Charlie?!"

"Yes."

"Well, goddamn." Charlie makes it over to them and hands her one of the drinks. He throws his arm around her casually and looks up at Elvis.

"Hey buddy. I see you met my lady."

"Well, not officially..." She holds her hand out to him.

"Vivian Choquette. Nice to meet you, Elvis Presley." He takes her hand and has the strangest urge to kiss it, but he'd never do such a thing with Charlie right there. He's been a good friend to Elvis, so no matter how much he likes her, he won't risk their friendship. Instead, he shakes her hand like he would if she was a man.

"Yeah, likewise." Elvis nods awkwardly and then turns to go back to the party. It's too bad that she's there with Charlie. He wanders around a little more, before he sees a girl that will change the trajectory of his whole life. Still, he never forgets the girl he met first.

******

The next day, Elvis sits at lunch with Charlie.

"So what did you think of my girl?" Elvis chokes a little on his food and tries to think of how he can answer without letting on that he hasn't stopped thinking about her.

"Oh, she's... she's somethin' else."

"Ain't she? I saw you talking to that cute little thing though. She seemed like somethin' else too."

"Priscilla? Oh, yeah."

"Little young, though."

"Yeah..." Elvis tries to focus on Priscilla, but all he can think about is Vivian. If she wasn't with Charlie, she'd be exactly what he's looking for. He's not sure how he knows that based on the half of a conversation they had, but something about her just draws him to her. Maybe it's the fact that she seems deeper than most of the girls he's encountered. Maybe it's because she didn't fall all over herself to talk to him. Maybe it's because she understands the pain of losing a parent. Whatever the reason, he can't stop wishing that she hadn't met Charlie first.

******

About three weeks later, Elvis is walking around town and he passes a cafe. He doesn't think much of it until he sees someone he recognizes sitting at one of the little tables. His heart jumps a bit at the thought of talking to her again. Then, he remembers Charlie with his arm around her. He decides to keep walking, but as he gets a little closer, he notices her shoulders are shaking. She's got her long, dark hair in her face, so he can't see her eyes, but it looks like she might be crying. He can't let her sit there alone if that's the case.

He cautiously approaches the table and realizes he was right. Her sniffling is quiet, but he can hear it. She's got a lit cigarette in one hand, and it looks like she's forgotten it's there. Her other hand fiddles with her coffee cup on its saucer. When he gets to her, he's not exactly sure what to do. He didn't have much of a plan beyond walking to the table. After hesitating for a second, he pulls the chair across from her out to sit in, but it makes a horrible screeching sound and she looks up startled.

"What the f-"

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry. It's just me."

"God, Elvis, you scared me."

"I'm sorry, honey, can I sit down?" She wipes her face and nods.

"Yeah, sure, I guess so." He sits down across from her and watches as she puts out her cigarette and continues trying to wipe her face clean.

"Are you... are you alright?"

"Ha! Yeah, I'm just fine." She pulls out another cigarette and lights it. They sit in silence for a bit while Elvis tries to think of what to say.

"You sure?" Vivian takes a puff of her cigarette and blows it straight up into the air.

"Do I look alright?" Elvis hesitates. He wants to say that she looks beautiful, but it doesn't feel appropriate.

"You seem upset."

"You're very observant." She responds spitefully. He looks down at his hands in his lap. "I'm sorry; that was rude. You're not the one that cheated on me and abandoned me."

"No... Charlie?" She takes a drag and holds her breath, nodding. Finally, she has to exhale, so she does and then starts to cry again. It's killing Elvis to sit there and watch her cry without doing something about it. He stands up and offers her his hand. "Come on."

"What? Where are we going?"

"My house is only a block from here. You can cry in private." She looks up at him and he can tell she's thinking about saying no. "I won't hurt you. Come on."

She puts her cigarette out and grabs her purse, taking the hand he offered her. They walk in silence to his house, but they continue to hold hands. When he finally gets her settled on the sofa, he sits next to her and leans back, spreading his legs wide. He's trying to indicate that she can relax and sit comfortably too. To his utter shock, she slips her shoes off and tucks her feet up under herself, also getting comfortable.

"So, he cheated on you?"

"Well, I guess that's not exactly fair."

"What do you mean?"

"I was the one he cheated with. Turns out he's been writing letters to another girl for a while."

"Ohhhh... and you found out about it." He thinks about the girl he writes letters to at home. What would she think of him here on the couch with this girl.

"Yes. I didn't want to be the other woman. Besides I thought he... well... it's stupid."

"What did you think?"

"I thought he wanted to marry me." Elvis's eyebrows shoot straight up before he can stop them. He never thought of Charlie as the marrying kind. Then again, he can understand not wanting to let Vivian go. "See, even you think I'm stupid."

"No, I don't. I think you just had hope. There's nothing wrong with that."

"There is if you're me." He sits up and looks into her eyes. The sadness rolling off of her is about to kill him.

"Why do you say that?" She looks up trying to keep herself from crying, but it doesn't work and fat teardrops slide down her cheeks.

"Everybody leaves me. My father left me. Then my mother left me. The first boy I loved. And now Charlie. Why does everyone leave? What's wrong with me?"

He scoots close to her and pulls her into his arms, resting her head on his shoulder. She doesn't object. Instead she lets herself be comforted as she continues to cry. He strokes her hair and kisses the top of her head. The pain of loss is something he's all too familiar with. He takes her face in the palm of his hand and looks into her eyes.

"Viv, this is not your fault. There's nothing wrong with you. I know what it's like to lose people too soon and it hurts. But it's not because of you."

"Why does it feel like no one wants me?" This smashes his heart into a thousand pieces. He wants her so badly it hurts.

"That can't possibly be true." Just tell her. Say it. Say 'I want you.' He wills himself to tell her the truth, but he just can't.

"You're sweet, Elvis." He smiles awkwardly and tries to ignore the fact that she pats his thigh. She leans her head on his shoulder again and snuggles into the side of his body. He knows she's just seeking comfort, so he tries to stay focused on being that. But he is a young man and she is a girl with her hand on his thigh and his imagination is running wild with what would happen if he carried her to his bedroom. He swallows deeply and begs his body not to respond physically to what's in his mind.

Still, there's an electric charge in the air that she has to notice too. Almost at the same time, they pull back and look into each other's eyes. He puts his knuckle under her chin and looks down at her lips. When she closes her eyes, he knows he has the green light, so he leans in and softly presses his lips to hers. Something bubbles up inside him and his hands begin to tremble. He backs up slightly and hovers just above her lips. They both smile and he dives back in for a deeper kiss, dipping his tongue into her mouth to slide against hers. She nibbles on his bottom lip a little and he groans. His hands rest on her hips in an attempt to get them to stop shaking and he eventually lifts her into his lap to straddle him. The intensity of their kissing increases as his hands roam over her body.

Suddenly, she pulls back breathlessly.

"Wait. Elvis, do you have a girlfriend back home?" His mouth pops open. He's not sure how to answer. Yes, he has Anita at home, but for the right girl, for her, he'd end that in a heartbeat. "Answer the question."

"Well... I-I-I..."

"That's all I need to hear." She peels herself off of him and stands up, smoothing her hair.

"No, honey, wait-"

"No. You're basically doing the same thing that Charlie just did. All you G.I.s are the same."

"Hon, please-"

"My name is Vivian!"

"Viv, just, don't leave..." she tries to put her heels back on and stumbles to get the second one on. He uses both hands to steady her as she does.

"Elvis, no. Good luck with Priscilla."

"Wait-?"

"You know she's 14."

"She's 14?!"

"So, you know, have fun with that." Vivian stomps towards the door with him close on her heels. He doesn't know how to make her understand that she's all he wants. Priscilla, Anita, none of them compare to her. But he doesn't know how to say that, so instead he watches as she walks out his front door, catches a cab, and disappears from his life.

******

Or so he thinks. In 1961, Elvis is home from the army and back to his film career. In March, he leaves the continental US to get ready to film Blue Hawaii. He arrives and goes to a cast meeting on set where the director is excited to introduce his costar. His first view of her is from behind and his heart skips. Surely it can't be?

"This is Vivian Choquette. She'll be playing your girlfriend, Maile Duval." She turns to face him and smiles awkwardly. Elvis tries to hide his excitement, hoping his trembling hands won't give him away.

"Hello again..."

******

Until chapter 2. Thoughts so far?

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Taglist (let me know if you want to be added or removed):

@ccab @elvisfatass @elvisalltheway101 @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @tacozebra051 @your-nanas-house @deniseinmn @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @louisejoy86 @rjmartin11 @from-memphis-with-love @deltafalax

[arthur-lesters-spinal-cord]

More thoughts about the dark world:

you choose to keep reading at your own risk.

This is mostly a stream of consciousness as i attempt to work out the dark world. Its mostly open questions. I have written so much. Good luck. I will not judge you if you dont read this.

Is there a dark world for every version of the universes, if so which dark world are we in?

The one where Arthur is from or the one containing castle Kerringford?

Considering Kellin appeared that would suggest that it is Arthurs universe it would suggest Arthurs universe. Or at the very least that Arthur’s trip to the 13th century didn't stop him from existing (it was a world where Shub seemingly still had remnants, maybe it was not dissimilar enough for that Arthur to not make the same initial decisions). Just this other version of Arthur would have a different idea of english history and maybe speak french.

Secret third option: does the dark world take people from every universe?

Are its inhabitants people who become amalgamations of everyone they had been in their different lives? Is this why the dark world has the ability to corrupt? Becoming all those versions of you until it drives you to become something completely different from anything and anyone you have ever been. Maybe the lighter only shows the versions of people from Arthurs universe. Taking away the other versions of them while they are within its light, hence why they return to their base state in the dark world once out of it.

From what the manager has said souls or something soul adjacent exists within this universe (Arthur has no body to go back to). So its possible that it is the intermingling of souls from thousands of different people becoming one and affecting that person drastically as well as that changed person having to cope with the environment of dark world which affects people. Something that is both an innate trait of the dark world as well as a mix of a response to stimuli.

Also on a sillier note, does this mean that our Arthur is mixing with the Arthur-orchestra? Or were the orchestra all alive-semi alive so none of them have reached the dark world. Other Arthurs from the myriad worlds presumably exist, ones that never met John and so Kayne never took an interest in (did he have all the Arthurs in his orchestra or did he pick and choose his favourites. How did he decide?). Its probable that if Kayne didn’t use all Arthurs, these are the ones hes mixing with.

If the dark world runs on a different type of time and it is possible to leave and also place people into it: John and also how the kiy put John back in the dark world, does this mean that there are other forms of afterlife after all?

Do the eldritch gods have the ability to choose if someone goes to the dark world. Able to decide if they want a certain dead person in their courts, they just dont because they have no care for the lives of mortals.

What about Vanguards and those that communicate with them (alia<3) how are they affected by all of this? Does anything change for them within the dark world when they die?

Does the dark world also take the souls of monsters? Since it took John one can assume it is able to take parts of the eldritch and not just people but was John an outlier? Have any other gods died? Shub simply was erased from existence (but also not exactly: see the dark young under Kerringford) and she was the first precedence for a god truly ceasing to exist. My guess is that when a god dies it is not permanent. They are trapped within the dark world same as humans are but have a greater chance of gaining positions of power like John was able to. They would have the ability to break free more easily than a person could due to being more powerful and having a greater understanding of the different universes. Since Kayne has said he used other fragments of John and saw other fragments of John and Arthur my theory that it is all versions of you that change you hold up still. Since there would have been other Johns trapped during the ritual. Instead of making his way out by force John was summoned by Arthur reading the book, suggesting that that version of him only left the different versions of himself piling in around and against his idea of self and some (those whos book was never read) were left behind.

I also think there could be single versions of a person/entity within the dark world because John states he forgot who he was. This was because he wasn't the version of John within our world he was every version of John mixing with one another and reacting to the dark world which in turn created a different being who was still the same but also separate.

This still doesnt answer if monsters go there, but at least gives a possibility for gods. Same question for animals actually? Do they end up in the dark world? A man turned into rats. Was this a side effect of the rat catcher? Was this a side effect of the dark world? Was it a man who was actually a rat who for some reason was turned into a man? Rats and therefore animals can exist within the dark world however, so animals may also exist within this plane when they die. It would make sense if extrapolating from this assumption and the assumption about gods that monsters as well also end up in the dark world. What is the rat catcher? Were they a person who gained more power within the dark world, becoming the hunter and not the hunted? It sounded like where were more of them, a whole level of status/role within the dark world? Do they have power over people and their segment of realm like John did? Why did they turn into rats????

How do power structures work in the dark world?

It looks like how you died or the experiences of your lifetime affect where you end up, like with the trenches and no mans land. But are those places designed or do they just appear based upon the psyche of those entering the dark world?

This suggests that the dark world is malleable. John said that places just appear. It may be that places appear from what is in the minds of the inhabitants, the things that have affected them most deeply.

Maybe those who claw their way into power like John did have a level of control over their surroundings. Instead of shaping to the minds of the most people there the world bends to the will of the most powerful.

If it changes to the thoughts of the most powerful that would make sense. If there is no person of great power/status it bends with what is at the forefront of peoples minds, placing them within spaces that fit to them. Creating places as and when needed.

My guess is that no mans land was created when there was a large influx of people who died in the war. If it had been just one or two they would have ended up somewhere else that fit but since there was a large enough number of people it shaped the dark world and created a new space.

Kinda similar to fear domains in tma i guess, but instead of going where you fear most its whats been the thing that has affected you most in your life. It would also make sense as to why John had a kingdom.

If we assume this then how does it apply to where the rat catcher is, do they have a level of power that is greater than the people that and up there. The rat catcher seems to know they are dead, were they something or someone in life that made them powerful to begin with and in turn created that place or was it a mixture. Something in the people that end up there’s lives that created a niche for rat catchers to inhabit. Rat catchers are either a powerful minority which either have influence over that segment of dark world or were more likely to appear due to the people already there or there are more rat catchers than rats so their perceptions of the dark world affect its reality.

Or maybe the people there are just some really traumatised rat-humans.

What does this mean for the people in the tower? It would seem their intentions are to stop people having to deal with the dark world. Perhaps a kind intent within a place fulled with corruption.

Lastly, how does this fit in with Azathoth and Kayne.

The entire universe is the dream of Azathoth. If it is possible for gods and god fragments to enter the dark world does this affect Azathoth? Considering he’s asleep, probably not. However, Azathoth is the mad demon sultan at the centre of reality. While it’s unsurprising that he's mad (I mean look at all the worlds that guys dreaming!) is it possible that the dark world is affected by his madness. This gives an idea of the dark world as a place closest to Azathoth. A place that we are supposing is a culmination of all realities and is able to be warped by those that exist within it. There are no separations to these worlds and the people dreamt up by the god are merged into one due to the loss of this separation. It in itself is a place of madness. I cant prove it, just as i cant prove any of this but its leads me to this idea that the dark world is the closest it is possible to get to the innermost workings of Azathoth’s mind and the place that is most affected by his subconscious.

That the dark world is the place closest to Azathoth and therefore the place where Kayne will choose to be in order to kill him. While it may not be the case that the destruction of the dark world itself would kill Azathoth, since waking the demon sultan up is enough to destroy all realitys he dreams we know that destroying worlds does not destroy the god.

But if the dark world is the place closest to his mind it would make sense both plot wise (since jarthur are already there) and my wild conjecture wise the more sensible place to go about killing the god. I think all ways of seeing the god that is capable both inside and outside the universe are constrained by the fact that they are still dreams of Azathoth.

While Kayne (or Nyarlathotep) may be able to attack a physical form that physical form is still something created by Azathoth simply due to the fact it exists. Harming the physical form of Azathoth does not harm and in turn kill Azathoth. To kill Azathoth you would need to first kill the dream. (Also you will have to do it without waking him up because hes really fucking powerful and him waking up would probably destroy anyone attempting to kill him likely including Kayne.)

The dark worlds is a place which is closest to the gods mind and closest to the part which is not just a creation of the dream therefore it would be the place where Kayne will be able to strike and attempt to kill/erase the god because it is closest to the thing that is most important to the god and reality: his mind in whatever weird dream logicy eldritch sense it exists in.

Finally, Kayne.

We know Kayne has been to the dark world in order to offer John the deal he makes sometime during season three. We can guess from the fact Kayne has the wherewithal about him to make a deal that he is not affected by the dark world.

This offers three options:

No version of Nyarlathotep has ever died and therefore there were no other versions of himself within the dark world so he was not affected.

Gods do not go to the dark world when they die. Considering how often Nyarlathotep is fought and occasionally killed within call of cthulhu and considering that this is how Harlan’s main go to for malevolent (this is a neutral statement i am just trying to theorise not start drama) then it is likely that at least one version of Nyarlathotep died before Kayne. If this is true, why wouldn’t Kayne have been affected by the dark world, well maybe gods as a rule dont go there. However, this would change a whole load of my base theorys and slightly go against the idea od the dark world as a place that is the dumping ground to all worlds (i am paraphrasing john i cant be bothered to find the transcript.)

Finally, the most fun answer and the one i believe to be true. Kayne is the way he is because he is experiencing how the dark world affects people at all times. Kayne says when we first meet him that he has thousands of other voices in his brain. It is assumed that these are the other Nyarlathoteps. Thus like people within the dark world Kayne has these thousands of personalities that he is fighting against within himself at all times.

This in turn created a god who is not Nyarlathotep. While Kayne chose not to be the god he was before he also at a base level is not the same god in the same way that people within the dark world are not the same person that they were originally. Nyarlathotep characteristically prefers to cause madness rather than death. People in the dark world seem to resort to violence as a first option: Arthur immediately killing the man exct ext. It is a place that makes people violent. Kayne has a predilection towards violence that Nyarlathotep does not have, suggesting that this violent tendency is a side affect of having multiple versions of yourself in one.

All in all, Kayne isnt affected by the dark world because the effects of the dark world are him at all times.

This also means that he would not be at a disadvantage if he did choose it as a place to kill asathoth from.

Im insanely impressed if youve read all this. You can ask for a drawing request or something if you’ve survived this. Feel free to tell me im mad. I enjoyed this immensely.

[quasiquack666]

Okay what language do you think people are speaking in Eleceed?

This maybe sounds like a dumb question but... especially in the World Academy arc, there's almost no Korean people there. And do we really assume that Kayden speaks Korean to Jiwoo? When it might make more sense that Jiwoo is multilingual and switches to uh, whatever Kayden speaks?

In other words, there's no way everyone in the whole comic was speaking Korean the whole time, right?

Although I do acknowledge the potential fact that Awakeners might have a language by themselves. Partially to keep normies from overhearing stuff but also to make communication easier. And there's the possibility that fictional languages exist in general, similar to how there may be fictional countries (one potential reason for why no other country is named except South Korea).

But even if the Awakener language exists, there's zero way Jiwoo would have known that at the beginning of the series. Kayden would have known and likely taught him later, but still. So obviously Kayden and Jiwoo share a language from the beginning, but it seems odd to assume that the language is specifically Korean. Especially when the writers specified that Kayden is not Korean (although he does look like some sort of East Asian. Y'all can pry him being Asian from my cold dead hands, by the way, I'll die as roast duck on this hill).

That aside, could we assume that everyone speaks Awakener language in the non-Korea arcs? Or maybe there's an actual global lingua franca in Eleceed world? In which case, of course anyone can pretty easily understand anyone else, unless they didn't get an education in the common language.

There could be evidence of a global lingua franca in chapter one. Kayden doesn't seem to acknowledge Jiwoo's words up until "Let me check", which is when Kayden replies. So he knows just enough Korean to understand that phrase, simply deduced what was going on from context, or Jiwoo was speaking a global lingua franca and Kayden ignored him until then. Or hell maybe Kayden just knows Korean, which isn't impossible.

Either way, I feel like the easy and simple answer is a global lingua franca, as people's first or secondary language(s). And maybe an Awakener language exists too, just because.

On that note, if there is an Awakener language, I wonder how it's spoken? Awakeners have different biology than normals. Potentially their language could literally be powered by their force core, which would make it genuinely incomprehensible to normals. Similar to Spatial Isolation that only other Awakeners can use and interact with. So I don't think it's a huge leap to say they could make a spoken language that only Awakeners could use and understand.

An Awakener sign language might be more difficult to make Awakener-only though. Since making force power modify your vocal cords (or at least the sound coming from said vocal cords) temporarily is different than full arm or hand modification. So I guess deaf Awakeners are screwed? Or maybe they've come up with signals instead, moreso like Morse Code using flashes of power.

At this point I'm rambling, there is almost certainly no thought towards deaf Awakeners in this comic when other shown disabilities are given little thought already lol. Although I do still think a spoken Awakener language could be real.

As for why I didn't mention English, I'm hesitant to say that Kayden and Jiwoo might have been speaking English to each other. Because although it's a very common language in real universe, there's really no confirmation in the comic that English exists at all. So I've stuck to mentioning only Korean, which presumably exists since South Korea exists, and mentioning unnamed but relevant languages like the global lingua franca or an Awakener language.

[notsoblackandwhite101]

Na'lright, so that last ask made me lose my damn mind. Spent the last few hours doing this! Behold, Fergus's family tree... currently. I may tweek it down the line. I previously said in past asks that Fergus was being raised by his parents and siblings in London, but I'm altering that!

Fergus's mum, Vivienne, was born and raised in Ireland, youngest of three pups. Her family were hardcore wild foxes, who rejected all facets of 'civilized' society. They hunted for their food, lived in burrows, ect ect. Only Vivi didn't vibe with that. She was a bit more lazy. It was so much easier to steal from dumpsters than it was to hunt. There were less hunting dogs in the towns and cities to! This started a big row with her folks and her brother Aidan, until she decided to leave. London was the biggest city around, so she snuck on a ship and made her way over. She enjoyed living in London, away from her traditional parents and brother. Things got a little harder when a one night stand unexpectedly left her expectant, but she raised Fergus the best she could. She taught him all about living in the city and while Fergus is a bit of a runt due to a lack of good food in his kit years, Vivi thinks she did alright! (Extra fun note, Vivienne is based on Fergus's design in the pilot!)

Of course, even if the family had a bit of a fight, they never really leave each other alone. Aidan and his wife would come to visit when they could. Aidan was intent on making his nephew appreciate his wild heritage, and maybe try to turn his life around, unlike his mother. Aunt Keeley is just a soft, go with the flow fox who tried to make peace more than anything, and Findlay is very chatty, though he mostly speaks Gaelic, like most of the family can . (Fergus only knows bits and pieces as his mum raised him in England. Findlay is also still learning English so communication can be tough.) Findlay is also very good at hunting, which can be awkward in London, as Fergus is friends with plenty of the 'Prey' around. (Findlay also has siblings, but I'm too tired to think of them now.)

AND FINALLY Aunt Muriel. Eldest of the three. She moved to a nature preserve in Ireland after her leg was injured. She's a 'Species Representative' who teaches other creatures about Foxes and how they live. Aunt Muriel is rather flat and unenthusiastic. She never wanted kid or to get married. She just dose as she pleases without hurting anyone and expects the same as everyone else. She also has a very sharp wit and tongue to match. Aidan and Vivienne both keep their fighting to a minimum around her, as Muriel tends to put them in their place easily enough.

Oh and Aunt Muriel is literally just Sister Michael from 'Dairy Girls' if you want to see what she's like.

Now these names aren't set in stone yet. I was hoping to find some more traditional Irish names but I'm very tired, so feel free to suggest some! (Also sorry for any spelling errors. Its very late at night/ early in the morning here.)

[princess-of-thebes-bc]

The Prince of my Dreams.

33 Year old Single! Ronaldo x Younger! Female Reader.

Your parents came from Afghanistan.

Enjoy.

That anime you watched in Eight grade became more understandable as you age. Death Note. A mundane and rotten world.

Existing was expensive. Living is impossible for the likes of you despite living in the greatest country in the world. The rulers and corrupted politicians would use tax money to fund useless wars and not to help the poor. Such as yourself. A fresh out of highschool young lady looking for any job. You were desperate. You don't want to see yourself.

But, a minimum wage job would help. Sadly, the standards went high. You had no job experience and no degree. Even community college is pricey. You were stuck in life. Were it not for your religion. You would have ended your life. Miserable and pathetic were two perfect examples to describe your way of being.

You gave up on Job hunting. Maybe you should prepare yourself to go to a women shelter in the future and know your days are out numbered once your father dies.

You don't trust your brother.

Your dysfunctional family gave you allowance and free housing in exchange for slavery. Cleaning, cooking, driving your nephews and nieces around school, clubs, parties etc, errands and grocery shopping.

Life was not worth living but livable.

It was not enough.

You didn't want to drink or do drugs so. Your escape was fantasy. Fictional romance books and movies. Especially cheesy Bollywood and Disney movies were your favorite.

You hated reality and couldn't handle it.

It was Sunday morning and you told your father you would take a small break. So, you would go to this small yet successful halal restaurant. It sold the best sandwiches in town and smoothies. Mango and Guava lassies.

You were about to step inside when you heard a deep and accented masculine voice.

"Look out!"

You halted in your heels and noticed a soccer ball in front of your path.

"Sorry. Are you okay?" A man with a mustache and beard along with sun glasses jogged up to you along with a white dog.

You gave him a small nervous smile. This man was six foot tall at least and you could notice he was muscled behind his sweatshirt.

He could easily hurt you.

But, his smile was genuine. You knew it somehow. You don't know why. And noticed he had the straightest and whitest teeth ever. As if it was fake.

"Aren't you a cutie?" He slightly pulled down his sunglasses to scrutinize you.

You furrowed your brows in offense. What a creep.

"Aren't you inappropriate?" You snapped back sarcastically.

All men are evil.

The man seemed confused and held his arms up on defense. He claimed to be joking.

Your face reddened. You sighed in exhaustion and pressed your fingers against your aching forehead to calm yourself.

"I am sorry. I am not good at socializing. I can be awkward."

The man was quiet for a moment. He nodded. "I understand." He whispered huskily. It sent a delicious shiver down your spine.

Gulping you smiled a little bigger than the first. "I am about to eat. Would you like to join me?"

You saw his thick yet plucked brows raise up. "Sure."

He held the door open and the two of you walked in.

"This is the best halal restaurant in town." You led the man to your usual table. He sat on the opposite side and took off his glasses. His almond shaped eyes and chocolate eye color made you feel hungry for sweets.

He bit his lips. "Not to be rude. What are you?"

You tilted your head.

He chuckled nervously. "Your look like a foreigner. Yet you speak English perfectly."

You explained how you were born and raised in America. But your parents immigrated from Afghanistan thanks to the Soviet Invasion.

That caught his attention. "Afghanistan." He repeated. He claimed you were the first he met.

You shrugged and explained how the terrorist attack.caused Afghans problems in getting a Visa here.

The man was about to say more but the waiter came.

"Hi, Name." Idrees smiled took out his pad. "What do you want for today?"

You ordered the most expensive dish for the man and a Mango Lassi. As for yourself. A vegetarian sub sandwich with berry energy drink.

Idrees nodded then left. While you were ordering the food, the man was staring at your lovely face.

"A lovely name that suits your face." He grinned.

You thanked him and bit your lips in nervousness then looked around to avoid his eyes.

Amused the man leaned in. "Aren't you going to ask for my name?"

You shook your head quickly. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want. I am sorry for being rude earlier. I don't really talk to men unless I have to."

"I see. Afghanistan is tough on women. I am sorry."

You shrugged and said nothing.

After two minutes being awkward and silent, the food came.

The man looked at the plate you ordered him. And you took out your debit card to give to Idrees.

Your friend seemed to have about to object.

"Please don't resist. I invited you. Not the other way." You gave your debit card to the waiter. "Besides, I don't think I have spoken to anyone but my family in perhaps five months or so."

"Wow. " The man whispered. "Five months?"

You explained how you were usually working for your family and your friends that had real jobs or school hardly had time for you. And you would text or call them. Hardly hang out. It was nice being away from your dysfunctional family.

Always yelling or criticising you.

You two began to eat. The man moaned when he took a bite out of his lamb kabob with tahini sauce. He asked what was he eating. You explained the grape leaves rolled. And the falafel balls.

Then before you were to stand up. The man stood to his full height and it made you sit down.

He asked for your number.

"Sorry. I cant text you."

"oh, right. I am sorry." The man explained how he thought you were cool and a good genuine person that radiated a good soul.

An odd compliment. "Oh?" you thanked him. "I had fun eating with you."

He nodded and stared.

"Please. I want to be your friend."

Wow. You blinked. He was so forward. Maybe he was not a creep and you stereotyped him unjustly and ignorantly.

He sat down.

"okay. There is an anime movie in theaters. Want to watch it tonight? I think I can make it."

You can lie to your dad and say you were hanging with a girlfriend.

"Anime?"

Before you could explain. The man asked for your cellphone once more

And you gave it.

What could go wrong?

[polyhexian]

Does Hunter know Boiling Isles sign language when Will first catches him or does he only do written communication with his uncle at first?

I actually think BI sign language would be structured quite differently from ours; magic can be easily used to support visual communication, and because magic is SO important here and uses ones hands, I don't think that visual language would develop the same way. Also, facial expression is super important in sign language. It's not like- vital. Native speakers can read just fine without it, but hearing people generally can't, not at length.

So will who wears a mask and has no natural magic and cannot let go of his staff to use magic and especially to use both hands- well, it's not conducive. Worse, the only people will regularly speaks to, Belos and public officials, do not, as far as we have seen, use any kind of nonverbal communication. And we know that- well, okay, disclaimer, I only actually have read about this in children and not in people who later became deaf or nonverbal and needed to learn sign language, young children learning asl as a first language very much adapt to the language around them. I recall a specific case of a young deaf girl with deaf parents who spoke in full ASL sentences at six, then began school at a deaf school, but because most of these children did not have deaf parents who spoke ASL as their primary language at home, the language used at school was significantly simpler, and her own language regressed dramatically to match those of her peers. This was bad enough they pulled her from school and homeschooled her.

Will isn't deaf, but without anyone else speaking ASL around him, or at least, very few, and the primary language all those around him being English/common spoken language, it IS going to affect his own vocabulary and natural speech. Most people around him he can't sign to because they wouldn't understand it.

All this is to say, I think it's very likely the form that sign language takes in the demon realm is both different from ours and extremely difficult for him to communicate in effectively AND he has very few opportunities to actually communicate that way. As a result, I don't think he actually signs fluently or even particularly well. In lament, I establish that will and Gus and Matt learned ASL from the human internet because it simply is far easier for will to communicate with, and he was just born so he doesn't have to RELEARN a new language, he didn't know BI Sign in the first place.

I know that's A Lot but I have a lot of thoughts. I write a lot of nonverbal characters and it's something I put a lot of thought into how I write it. I don't mention it too often but my brother is legally deaf and blind, and we knew he was mostly deaf before we knew he was mostly blind, so my family- well. Me and my dad spent a lot of time learning asl. Then we found out about his vision, which explained a lot about why he was struggling so much, and as he got older it became clear he did not have the manual dexterity to sign anyway. We got him one of those little tablet communicative devices just a few years ago, they're really expensive and it was actually bought by his school- like, people from the school, staff, personally donated money to buy it, it didn't come from the budget or anything. The government sucks. They don't help much. That's all a sidenote tho

So like I don't claim to speak ASL or anything, it's been a little over a decade since I gave up on learning it seriously. I'm left with a fairly rough understanding of syntax and a smattering of random words that have stuck in my brain. So that's all just a bunch of thoughts from my silly brain about Stuff and I hope it's parsable LOL

[asksuccubussides]

What if you were an asexual succubus, wouldn't that be fucked up or what Chapter 7

Masterlist of chapters

When Remus speaks his native language (demon) it looks like this

-

At least Remus could still open normal doors. He took his eyes off of Janus for now to walk around the outside of the college building looking for a door with a mail slot. In the distance he could hear faint music but it wasn't so close as to need any worry.

Finally he found a good door and looked around before slipping his tail through the mail slot. He tried to feel for the doorknob and quickly twisted it around when he felt the metal against his tail. The door easily swung open and he closed it quietly behind him.

The hallway was pitch dark with the only light coming from the glass doors leading to the library. Remus quietly slid the knife against the back of his arm to see how sharp it was to which a thin line of his skin immdiately opened. For a moment all he saw was the white of the upper layers of his flesh before blood filled the space and tried to pour out.

It wasn't the sharpest knife he'd seen but it would be enough for a human.

His jaw still ached from the sudden loss of speech as he crept closer to the library while making sure to not walk in the light. The sound of Roman's screams were still ringing in his ears as he hid the knife under his shirt and walked into the library.

"Don't call the cops, I'm allowed to be here even at nighttime" Janus immediately said in a tired tone as if he'd had to repeat it way too many times. The man briefly looked up from his computer and his eyes stayed on Remus' bare and dirty feet for a moment "You have a point. More people should go barefeet at 3 am on a tuesday in april. Really brings a bit of zest to life"

That was all he said before turning his head back to his computer. Up until then Remus had still been in a bit of a numb dissociated state but his heart started to beat out of his chest as he realized he had not thought this through at all. He had no fucking clue what Janus had just said because he didn't speak any human fucking languages!

Remus took a long walk around the bookcases while imagining houndpuppies eating corpses to calm himself down.

By instinct his mouth opened to let out a string of swearwords directed at the Manager but no sounds came out, it only made his mouth hurt like acid had been poured onto it.

He randomly moved books around to not seem suspicious while thinking. That motherfucker Manager had sent him out to seduce and kill a human that he knew damn well Remus couldn't communicate with.

Easy. Easy! Remus told himself- Oh god he couldn¨t feel Roman, he hadn't realized how clear he used to feel his brother until it had suddenly disappeared- Easy. Focus on the murder. Murder's fun. Blood! Guts! He was already gulty of violent assault, why not add manslaughter to the list!

He just had to make that stupid human sin a little. Easy.

He was fluent in sign language and he was kind of sure that was based on english so if he thought real hard he could maybe jump loops in his mind to make sense of the language.

Remus took a deep breathe and jumped up and down on his toes to give himself the last push to walk back to the table where the human was sitting. He tapped his finger against the table to get his attention.

The manager had said he should be able to still talk to humans "...hhHHIIi" The words was like an old oak door being pushed open after decades of decay. A glimpse of white seering pain flashed before Remus' eyes.

"Oh thank god" Janus closed his laptop and looked to him "I was looking for an excuse to keep procrastinating. Hi" Remus couldn't tell if he was sarcastic or not.

He could tell his neck was soft and since Janus was sitting down it would be easy to hold him still until he'd lost enough blood.

He couldn't tell if he was a sinner though so he leant forward with his palm against the table "Uhh....Sex..?"

Janus opened his laptop again and loooked away "Nevermind" When Remus didn't move Jan gave him another glance and said "Unless you're practicing how to say the number six in Latin, no"

Remus pretty much only comprehended the word No and it was enough for his heart to start beating out of his chest again It beat so fast he could hear it in his ears. He tugged at the chair at the other end of the table from the human and slumped down with his head pressed against the cold wood.

He covered his head with his arms as the urge to scream filled his throat but all it could do was choke him. In that moment he really did want to stab the human in the guts over and over again. What if Roman was being tortured right now- That's silly, why would she be- What if Remy was being tortured- What if all of hell went through a apocalypse as soon as he was thrown out- He couldn't remember the last thing he'd said to Roman, or Remy for that matter. Or anyone. Was Roman mad at him. Happy he was gone. Was-

Even if it had happened just a bit ago he couldn't remember Roman's facial expression while he had gotten his voice taken away. It was like there were stains all over his memories. The sound was the only thing intact.

He should have tried to pull The Manager's eyes out or break his ankles or bite off his fingers. He should have put up more of a fucking fight.

Janus was honestly trying to work but it was quite hard when there was a stranger sitting by the end of the table with his head in his hands and his shoulders shaking.

Still he did his best to ignore the stranger and continue writing but eventually it got too distracting and therefore he had to finally ask the stranger

"Are you alright? Don¨t get any ideas, I'm solely asking because you are annoying me"

It took a moment before Remus looked up and to Janus' surprise he didn't look sad, but his face had frozen into the most rageful glare imaginable.

When the stranger didn't answer Janus repeated "Are you alright?"

The gears turning in the stranger's mind was practically visible before he burst out a few half yelled words "YEs! An-" He tried to force a smile but it didn't reach his eyes "And I...I...am?...I am sexy!"

He tried to strike a pose that was probably meant to be sensual but it just looked like he'd been caught with his foot in a beartrap.

Janus grimaced before replying "Are you plastered, high or did someone simply dare you to ask me out?" He waved his hand around while rolling his eye "Let's ask the flamboyant fag with the fucked up face for sex, hilarious"

Remus didn't really pick up on much aside from the way his voice dripped with sarcasm. He searched for an answer but all his thoughts wandered back to Roman.

He flinched and nearly barred his teeth when Janus snapped his fingers in front of his face "Hello?" A cold smile spread on Janus' lips as he leant back in his chair "I understand. You're just taking the piss on me by not answering"

Without another word Janus closed his computer and moved to leave. In a wide eyed panic Remus grabbed ahold of the knife and held it up as the human turned his back on him.

"My brother-" The words slipped from remus without him meaning to. He was still holding the knife. "My brother I- I-"

The words of this language failed him. His knuckles turned white from holding the knife as he tried to speak in his own language.

"I don't know where my brother is or what the fuck is happening to him so now I gotta kill you. Could you just give up and make this shit easy to me! Humans always want me! It's all they ever want! You gotta want me!"

Janus turned towards him once more and for the first time since meeting him Remus could see a glimpse of interest in his eyes.

A chill went up Remus' back. Oh god what if Janus was a demon too. What if all of this had been a test. What if they were going to execute him now and Roman too just because he fucked up.

"Which language is that?" Janus asked.

"If I keep talking demon will that seduce you?" Remus thought it was worth a try. He'd managed to shove the knife down into his pocket and now he could feel the tip of it cutting into his thigh.

"...Okay...Well darling I only speak english but I have been studying etymology lately and the sentence structure you use is fascinating. Do you know what a clause is?"

To his relief the human sat back down to which he did as well. The human was staring at him like he was awaiting an answer so Remus took the 50/50 chance and nodded.

"You're not taking the piss at me again are you" Janus leant forward with his hand under his chin "Are you aware if it has a VOS or more of a VSO sentence structure?"

Remus decided to go the random chance route and began to sign 'Do you know sign language?'.

"Oh dear, sadly I don't know any sign. Though it is on my list of things I wish to learn" Janus let up into a cheeky half smile "So? What language is it? The pronounciation of the letters are quite unique I must say"

".....Spain" Remus blurted out. Humans always assumd he was from spain or "..Latin...Amorica..." He added.

For the first time Janus let up into a short laugh, more like a quick snort really "Well darling I know for sure that isn't spanish...excuse me, for a moment I completely forgot the vast array of languages over there. Is it an indigenous language?"

Remus just nodded.

"No wonder I didn't recognise it. There's far too few resources about those topics"

"Mhmmm. Yes. Mhhmm"

Janus took a look over his shoulder to see if the library was still empty before letting himself look just a tiny bit more genuinly excited "Want to hear something?"

"Yes!" Please be sex. Please be sex. Please be sex. Just get it over with.

"English speaks of the past being physically behind us. So there have been studies showing that we physically gesture behind us when speaking about the past but people who's mother tongue speak of the past as physically being in front of them gesture in front of themselfs when speaking of the past. Isn't that fascinating?"

Remus nodded again and hoped he was answering right.

The smile faded from janus as he leant back. For a moment he looked like he'd been caught redhanded before returning to look as grumpy as he'd looked when Remus first came in.

"Anyhow that's one of the many things I've learnt that I will never have any use for in the real world. Brain sugerons and austronauts can suck it, I know the really important facts. How about you?"

"Huh?"

"What are you studying? Why're you here?"

"...Thrown away" Remus notioned to himself "The manager asshat dickhole assflame fucker threw me out" He said it to try and help with translating it in his mind "I....am...thrown out.." He shrugged "No place to walk"

Janus did a double take. He started to roll one of his dreadlocks between two of his fingers while thinking before asking "Do you mean no place to go?"

Remus nodded. "So uhh sex?"

"Do you need me to call someone or? You mentioned a brother? Should I-"

He violently shook his head as he saw Janus beginning to look worried. Worry wasn't sexy!

"I am gone...going...going! here" He tapped his finger into the table before looking a bit proud of himself. He did a thumbs up to be extra sure.

"Look, you don't have to worry about me calling the pigs- The police" Janus corrected himself as he tried to be as simple for the stranger as possible "Darling whether you're about to burn down the building or is attempting to make me pay for a shag I will not tell. I might keep telling you about etymology if you stay here, just a warning"

"Etymology" Remus repeated it to taste the word. He smacked his lips "Etymology" It was tasty to say.

"Etymology" Janus added in.

"I like also words hmmm Cannibal! Vehicular manslaughter! Rapscallion!" He only kind of knew what they meant.

"Ah! Wonderful choices! I personally like soloiqou, nincompoop and hmm probably lackadaisical. Nearly forgot perjurer. That's a good one as well. All these words using a large range of phonetic sounds has aboslutely nooothing to do with us enjoying them, Definitely nooot"

"Fuck!" Remus helpfully added.

Janus did a dramatic gasp "How could I not think of that. Fuck!"

"FUUUCCCCKKKKKK!"

"Fuck! Fuck ! Fucked"

Remus banged his fists into the table "FUCK! FUUUCKKK!"

"Fuck!" Janus fanned himself with his hand while pouting a little "It's just such a shit choice innit?" He waved his hand around in the air "This whole system of academics! It's sooo not stressful being told repeatedly that you have to choose one subject to pour years of your life into just to survive in today's society. 6 months ago I couldn't stop myself from devouring books about law and justice and then suddenly all I could think about was strange theatre plays from the 90's and now out of nowhere I'm knee deep in this" He motioned to the page open on his computer about language and etyomology "And I'm supposed to choose only one thing? For years? And it has to be useful as well!? When I was 10 I had a phase where all I could talk about was greek tragedies! Which motherfucking 10 year old has that! Who let me read Antigone at that age!? And my favorite musical was Les Miserables! I've read Kant! How can anyone expect someone like me to be..normal about jobs and life and uggghhh"

Janus dragged his fingers through his hair making one of the dreadlocks loosen from the yellow band holding them tied up and fall in front of his face.

"I am aware you probably couldn't comprehend most of that but as we all know ranting a bunch totally never helps in the slightest. I'm definitely feeling worse now"

"I like it" remus replied caught Janus by surprise "The" The succubi leant closer to point at the computer "I like the uhh"

"The etomology?"

"You speaking"

"Well thank you" Janus did a hair flip with the one loose dreadlock "It's my endless charm and fantastic way I carry myself"

Remus mimicked him and banged his head to make his fluffy hair jiggle around. The succubus caught himself smiling and felt his body turn cold as he realized his thoughts had drifted away from his brother, his friends, his entire fucking home. He'd been sitting here rubbing elbows with the human he was supposed to have murdered by now.

He looked to the human and asked himself for the first time why he would be sent to kill him. What made this bag of meat so special.

His eyes trailed up and down the human and the only thought he had was how unsymmetrical humans were. Janus had long dark dreadlocks tied up in a bun by a yellow bandana, though some of the locks had been dyed a dirt blond. One of his eyes drooped a bit lower onto his cheek than the other in the same way there were more laugh lines on one side of his lips. He had on yellow gloves for some reason though only the right one had stains from pencils on the tips of his fingers.

It was all....unperfect. Not created with the sole intent to be as widely accesible as possible as succubi were. Janus didn't look like he had been created with anything particular in mind even, other than to simply exists.

His lips were full but placed low on his face. He had a double chin and his arms flabbed when he moved. His nose was bigger than succubi's usually were because humans had gotten it in their heads smaller noses were hotter. Though his shirt had been meticously buttoned and his skirt ironed the clothes were still slightly illfitting. He had bushy eyebrows and a mole on his neck.

And the scar.

The only reason any succbi would ever have a scar would be to entice humans who had a fetish for those kinds of things. The slight wound on Remus' arm would simply be overtaken by a new layer of identical skin. He could never have a scar no matter how interesting he found them. In contrast a big jagged scar in hues of purple, dark brown and light red spread all across the right side of Janus' face. It was jarring and portruded from the rest of his skin.

Remus hadn't noticed the scar before because he hadn't bothered to look at the human for long. It was.....pretty....the way the skin had sewn itself together like layers of cloth overlapping.

"You're...You're the first human I've ever actually looked at for longer than like 5 seconds" Remus said as he trailed his fingers over his cheeks without really noticing it "Your faces are so messy and fucked up. I wanna look like that too! No matter how much trash I throw myself in I still end up looking sexy to humans"

Janus had an amused smile as he tilted his head slightly and nodded along as if he understood what Remus was saying "Uhu mhm, So the moon landing was faked. Huh mhmm interesting, Aliens too huh mhhmm"

"Aliens yes!" Remus instantly joined in on the bit.

"I absolutely loooathe the sound of your voice. Very ear bleedy and irritating too. Real rusty chainsaw style"

Something about the way Janus' skin wrinkled slightly from smiling and how his voice was smooth as silk made something stir like an echo deep within Remus.

"I'm being sarcastic of course" Janus continued before dramatically flipping his loose dreadlock back "Or am I" He chuckled at his own joke before leaning a bit closer "If I may ask, were you only asking me for a one night stand because you need a place to stay? Obviously I won't mi-"

"Hot" Remus interrupted while pointing at him.

Janus was visibly caught off guard "So you're, I mean, Are you- you're gay?- Or bi?- I mean I don't- You don't have to answer "

Jan faked a cough to give himself an excuse to cover his mouth as he collected himself. Remus tapped his toes into the floor while thinking.

"Gay?......Sure.."

"I'm the most heterosexual person there ever was in history ever. You might think the king who married so many wives so quickly he permanently changed church rules was the most heterosexual one but no, it's me" Janus checked the clock "Half an hour into this conversation what's your name by the way?"

"Remus!"

Janus held back a laugh "Oh that's very cute. Do you have a twin named Roman as well" He snarked.

"How you knew?? TELEPATHY!?"

The human let out a stunned wheeze that was almost a laugh "Your parents must have a great sense of humor"

"I do not have parents" Remus blurted out because he has less filter than a broken coffee machine.

"Suppose that makes us the same then" Janus started to gather his things and put them into his bag while continuing "It was the classic car accident for me, very dramatic I know. I think dramatics go in my genes. That and the tax evasion"

Janus stood up and looked over to the demon who in turn stared at him with wide eyes like a stray dog.

"Are you coming? You needed a place to sleep for the night didn't you?"

Remus stood up so quickly the chair fell to the floor. He had to physically stop his tail from picking it up, instead doing it by hand. At the back of his mind some thought huffed on about how much of a Patton he was being. Doing such a human thing. Talking to a human for this long. Such a Patton....Such a Roman.

He followed the human out of the library and looked over his shoulder as he locked the door to the library "Best feature of working as a library help" Janus explained while rattling the key.

The dorm room wasn't far from the library but was tucked into the corner of the hall. A few plastic spiders were hanging from the top of the door and unlike all of the other doors it didn't have a whiteboard hung on it.

"I do have a roomate just so you are aware. He's a bit grumpy but he doesn't bite" Janus warned before opening the door and holding it open for Remus to enter first.

"jESus Jannie! Learn to knock! I could have been smoking drugs or had a- a girl over or something!" Virgil yelled as soon as the door opened.

The other human was huddled under a big purple blanket with a hoodie on in his bed on the opposite side of the tiny tiny room to the bed that presumedly belonged to Janus.

"No you wouldn't" Was Janus' only response before pointing over to his bed "You can sleep there"

"Who's the...uhh" Virgil squinted at Remus "...Guy?"

"This is Remus, named after the greek legend apparently, he's staying for the night. Remus this is Virgil, he's a bit of a wet and soggy kind of person"

Remus squinted just as hard at Virgil and sniffed in the air "You smell weird"

"Did that motherfucker just curse me!? He just threw a bloody curse at me! He can't stay here!"

"It's just another language Viv- Wow he's already out cold, that was quick. Quite impressive"

Raggedy snores came from Remus as he had passed out the moment his head hit the soft fabric. He had curdled up with his knees to his chest at the end of the bed. Janus sat down on the edge of Virgil's bed and lowered his voice as to not wake the stranger.

"He's not wearing shoes" Virgil pointed out while sticking his chin out to look more broody than usual.

"Darling I love judging people but in this instance I won't. Seems like he has some family issues, something about his brother?"

"You can't just waltz in here with a stranger"

"That's why I tangoed in here-"

"Uhhh Tangoed in here. Very funny asshole"

Janus laid his back against the bed so his head hit against Virgil's legs "Cooomee ooon dear, don't you want to do something unpresedented sometimes. We never do anything fun" He pouted a little while fluttering his eyelids.

"I have fun all the time. I was having fun rereading creepypastas right before you 'tangoed' in here with some guy"

"Well I think he's fun at least. And I must say, for someone who doesn't seem to be in a stable state right now he sure hasn't missed leg day because that-"

Virgil swatted at Janus' head with both of his hands "Shut it!"

"Woooow. The homophobia on display here. Woow Virrgil. I didn't think you were like this" janus replied in his most sarcastic tone.

"I hate when you do that joke"

"HAH! It's hilarious every time! Sorry you don't agree!" Janus rolled over on his side and closed his eyes "Anyhow I have work tomorrow so good night-"

"You're going to sleep?? With a stranger in our room??? He could be a chainsaw murderer!! Or just a regular murderer!! A nonce! A chainsaw nonce!"

Janus let out a slight sigh but didn't turn to look at the other man "He thought I was hot and he didn't say anything about the scar for the entire conversation-"

"The bar is burying it's way through the floor"

"Let him stay for the night.....please..or whatever"

Virgil was quiet for a moment before rolling his eyes "Finee. But I'm staying up"

[prodigal-explorer]

here are some of my favorite sanders sides rp responses i’ve written lately!! enjoy perusing, some are angsty, some are sweet, some are in between! (also cw for violence, implied s/a, relationship abuse/violence, and implied ableism)

Roman shook his head. He took a very, very long time to speak, his mind hazy and busy as he scrambled to figure out how to say what he needed to say in English. It was already hard enough to speak in English when his mind was perfectly clear, but in this state, all the words, even the simplest ones were escaping him.

"C'est- mauvais. Tu ne veux pas savoir. Vraiment."

He narrowed his tear-filled eyes, frustrated, so angry with himself for not being able to communicate the right way. He felt trapped and lost, like a child. Like a child too young to say what they want, so all they could do is...

Cry.

Roman cried.

He felt so exposed, never having cried in America yet. He wanted to come across as this adult, this blossoming, mature feat of majesty and poise. And now, he was falling apart, blood dripping between his legs, in front of his boyfriend's little brother.

"Je veux ma maman..." he whispered. He wanted his mother. He barely knew his mother.

What he meant to say was that he wanted a mother.

—

That whole evening in Roman's head had been a blur. Ever since the trial ended, Roman had started to forget the details of what happened that night. It turned fuzzy, and that was how Roman liked it. He didn't want to remember the pain, the suffering, the betrayal he experienced. But now that he saw all the blood and substance on that carpet, dried up and crusted, and smelling like death, he couldn't forget it anymore. It all came flooding back to him like a tsunami. Tears formed in his eyes.

"It's all still there," he whispered, "I was so close to forgetting it for real. It's not fair. It's- it's not fair!"

In a fit of sudden anger, Roman grabbed the nearest lamp, sitting on top of a side table, and he threw it at the carpet. It shattered, the pieces splaying all over the place.

"It's not fair!" Roman shouted, kicking the side table until it fell over, starting to wreck everything in the room. Pictures, pillows, chairs, tables, all of it was coming down. It was only when he got to that dreadful carpet, the place where his body was destroyed, where he stopped, falling onto his knees and sobbing so hard he could barely breathe. "This is where he-...he...he was trying to teach Janus a lesson. He said I was his favorite."

—

And Roman was honestly amazing at his job. He had a lot of spills, and struggled a lot with things like remembering orders and handling the busy environment, but he rarely got an order wrong because he always sang them to himself while he made them, and he was nice to customers, often going above and beyond to make them happy. He was paid just as much as the other employees, but his paycheck had a few dollars less because of how often he gave people free things. As hard as his managers tried to explain the concept of “we don’t have infinite cake pops so you can’t give one to every little kid”, it never really stuck with Roman. He just thought kids needed cake pops.

—

“I’m not treating you like Roman!” Virgil sputtered defensively, “What on Earth makes you say that?”

Roman, who was quietly listening in from the hallway, faltered a bit in silent confusion. What was so bad about being treated like him?

“Stop that,” Virgil said, his tone icy and terrifying. He was never angry. Ever. So this was a first for Logan and for Roman who was watching. Virgil had the patience of a saint and the temper of a rabbit. He didn’t get angry easily. So this was very new territory that not even Virgil knew how to navigate. “You’re acting immature, and I know you’re more mature than this, Logan. Why can’t you see that I’m just trying to help you? You’re still a child, whether you like it or not. Whether you feel like one or not. Just because Roman is the way he isn’t doesn’t mean that you’re the smartest guy in the world, so stop acting like it.”

—

"It doesn't matter," Roman repeated, "You can watch Dogs 101 and eat cookies with me. Yeah, we can all spend nighttime together, just like we're supposed to do."

Roman grinned and bounced on his toes. Virgil seemed just as hesitant, worried about getting too close to Logan after the huge mistake he had made. But Roman was already off, singing and laughing as he got everything ready in the living room. Virgil lingered. "You don't have to," he whispered, "If you don't want to. Roman will understand." No he wouldn't. And they both knew it.

—

Roman squirmed where he was sitting, biting his lip so as not to cry. If he cried, he would be a baby. But he just had no idea how to express what he really wanted to say to Logan. He was starting to realize how Logan, and really, how the rest of the world percieved him. It was all hitting him at once, and it was hurting. Really, really bad.

He had always felt smaller than he was. But it wasn't until now when he realized just what that would mean.

—

A free spirit such as him didn't seem to be the type to approach music with such scientific detail, but Roman had such a love for music that that was just what ended up happening when his mind was so wound up in it. One can't help but be accurate in something when it's a piece of them. Nobody is inaccurate when they breathe. Nobody is inacurate when they blink.

A few times, Roman found himself making eye contact with Logan. At first, in a cautious way, as if to silently gauge whether or not he was doing a good job. But as the song progressed, Roman grew more comfortable, and eventually, these little glances turned into something more playful, as if he and Logan had a secret that the audience didn't know, but were dying to find out, and the two were sitting on it like kings sharing a throne.

—

Roman took a deep breath, closed his eyes, light brown and always glimmering with wonder, and opened them again as he started to sing. His voice was fluttering, like a bird's cry in summer. The kind that gently wakes you up at seven am, but it's so pretty you can't bring yourself to be mad for very long. He did some soft vocalizing before getting into the words.

And my goodness, were these words horrible.

It was like Logan and everyone else had stumbled into a third grade book report presentation, except it rhymed and it was even more terrible. It was like if One Direction got immensely drunk and decided to write all their lyrics with Dr. Seuss' vocabulary.

"Oh, baby, you're like the sky

You go so high

You're my babyyyy"

How was everyone else tolerating this? How was everyone else cheering for this?? Was it pretty privilige?? Was it alcohol poisoning??

"I love the way you dance

With your feet and hands

You're my babyyyy"

[lgctee]

☮ LGCU STUDENT PROFILE ☮

NAME: Theerat "Tee" Pongsak YEAR: Fourth MAJOR: Creative Writing SUBJECTS RANKING:

DANCE HISTORY

PHOTOGRAPHY I

WRITING FOR MASS MEDIA

ENGLISH IN SOCIETY

INTERPERSONAL COMMUNICATIONS

3 RANDOM FACTS:

He came to LGCU as a first year exchange student. He didn't speak Korean and struggled a lot during his first year due to being unable to communicate and understand. Now he knows enough Korean to survive but he's not fluent.

He's had a crush on @lgcjinseo since his first year after Jinseo became his tutor. He is taking the photography class just so he could be in the same class as Jinseo.

Even though he's a writing major, Tee loves dancing and it's his passion but he knows he can't make money out of dancing and so he's studying writing but still dances.

MORE FACTS:

He has a twin but his twin is the complete opposite of him in terms of personality.

He is quiet and keeps to himself. He's very introverted.

Tee is very naive and can be easily fooled.

His best friend is @lgcdaeho (and Wookjin).

He's very studious and often studies when he can. He has a high gpa.

Tee is stubborn but passionate and this can sometimes lead to crazy things.

[grayparticlecollective]

Homes becoming Houses

My Grandfather on my dad's side grew up in Winston-Salem NC, in a beautiful spacious and modern home on Reynolds Park Rd. He was the youngest of 12 kids, and his eldest siblings were well into their 30's by the time he was born in 1923.

By the time 1942 came, My Grandfather left his job working at a local clothing cleaner and enlisted after the attack on Pearl Harbor. He soon crossed the Atlantic as a member of the North Carolina National Guard Signal Corps, fresh from basic training at Camp Crowder, Missouri. He crossed the English Channel with the largest Armada ever conceived by mankind as part of Operation Neptune. He landed on Omaha beach, thankfully, a couple of days after D-Day. Unfortunately, it wasn't time enough to spare him from having to see a beach full of G.I.'s that didn't make it off the sand, or out of the surf.

He spent countless nights trying to sleep in holes dug by himself. if he was lucky, he found a hole dug by another soldier who had since moved up the battlefield. Sometimes he slept in craters made from artillery shells. He recounted to me that on one occasion, to avoid mortar rounds, that he and another GI dove into a hole that turned out to be a latrine. He was figuratively and literally in the shit.

I can remember him telling me how the night sky lit up from a combination of tracer rounds, anti-aircraft guns, and the barrage of shelling from Destroyers and Battleships. I could feel just how conflicted he was about this experience. On one hand he had to have been terrified, and on the other hand the different bright colors blitzing across the otherwise dark night sky. In retrospect, I imagine it provided means of dissociation for him, and many others as well.

He also had to see the horrendous sight of fellow men, women and children, both deceased and living who had been decimated by the ghastly ambition of evil men. He was one of the lucky men who made it back home, especially considering he also had a purple heart tacked onto him. The story goes as such: He was sitting in a classroom during training when a bullet came up through the floor from a room below via accidental discharge, entering through the back of his knee and went clean through. Luckily it missed the significant parts of the knee itself, allowing him to recover before even leaving the US for war. I still wonder if that is actually what happened. He didn't speak much on it.

He made it back and met my grandmother. They had four children, with my father being born in 1954 as their third child. He built a house on Reynolds Park Rd. just across the street and down about 70 yards from his childhood home. all of the surrounding neighbors were mostly all family members. I can remember bits and pieces from that house. I remember the rod iron columns that held up the front awning, and the ivy that climbed up the front of the bricks. My favorite part was the climbing sized Magnolia in the front yard.

Fast forwarding to the early 1990's, the neighborhood had seen a steep decline in safety, as the crack epidemic raged. I used to get scared sleeping over there at night, mainly because the curtains were backlit by the streetlights, and shadows constantly moved across them. It was right beside the road so when cars passed, they were easily heard. In my mind as a 4-year-old, I was convinced that the shadow monsters were outside coming to get me.

Both of my grandparents were very strong in their Christian faith. Both of them were actively involved with charitable organizations, and very active in their church, Oaklawn Baptist, which was roughly a mile and a half from their house, as a crow flies. Community outreach is what gave both of them a deeper appreciation for life.

One night in early autumn of 1992, a man in his twenties knocked on their door and my grandmother answered. He claimed to be hungry, so my grandmother made him a sandwich and handed it to him on the front porch. My father and my uncle soon both heard about this and strongly cautioned her that what she was doing was dangerous, and that she must stop answering the door at night. Unfortunately, her core nature to be compassionate to everyone on the basis of her faith changed everything that she and my grandfather thought they knew about life.

One night soon after the conversation happened, my mom and dad had taken my sister and I to the Dixie Classic Fair in Winston-Salem for our annual pilgrimage for carnival rides, caramel apples, jazzy hair and plastic trumpets. It was perhaps the closest thing to experiencing Disney for most of the kids in Winston-Salem. The city had drastically changed from the loss of textiles, and the collapse of the old tobacco industry that made it what it once was. People were poor.

On that very night, the man came knocking again. My grandmother opened the door to pass him some food, and he pushed his way inside, striking my grandmother in the face. My grandfather, around 68 at the time, got thrown down the steps into the basement, and was locked out. The man was trying to rape my grandmother and struck her with his fists many times. My Grandfather managed to make his way back upstairs, grabbed the man who was much younger and quicker, and managed to get him out of the house, and then boxed and scrapped with this vile human, attempting to get him to the road to throw him in front of a passing car to stop the attack. All three of them ended up in the emergency room-- the same emergency room. That was the first time someone had to explain to me what stitches were, as both of my grandparents had quite a few, along with their faces being battered. that was the first time i ever saw someone with a black eye. My own grandmother.

Someone thought it permissible to have the man who assaulted both of them in the same hospital. All i know for sure is that my family was furious about this.

If i remember correctly, they sold that house and moved within a month. The man was sentenced somewhere between 10-20 years. I remember around the age of 9 or 10 noticing that it was always a good idea to announce myself on my way up the steps to the kitchen in the new house. I didn't know what PTSD was then, but she had it bad. Somehow, I remember the feeling of knowing that I needed to do so, though at the time I couldn't put two and two together on what made her so easily startled.

Most of my memories with my grandparents happened at the house they moved to after the incident. It is the Grandma's House that I remember, though I am certain that it wasn't the same for them, as my eyes fill with water at the thought of losing comfort in the place I call home. Looking back at all of it, the worst part was the impression that was made that made me believe that when I grew up, the same thing could happen to my own parents. That still scares me to this day. When it happened, I truly thought I was learning what I had to be able to do to protect my own parents later in life, and a fear of being away from them, as I wouldn't be able to protect them.

I often wonder who the man is, and if he's still alive--- and if he is, who is he now. I wonder if I have been in the same store as him, or if he had children my age, that I might know. I don't know his name, and I think it is best that way. In a way, it is one more layer of security, just not knowing. I like to think that I can see evil as it approaches, but it's hard to see evil coming if evil sees you first. I think the most important thing I can take away from all of this is the fact that my grandmother never lost her faith, or her faith in the good will of mankind, and that in itself is a miracle.

This is written In Loving Memory of my Resilient Grandparents, and the things that they did to make it in spite of what happened.

[ntshastark]

nults comics from the last... oh my god it's been a month

Ultimate Black Panther #13

sorry i don't think this haircut is doing much for her

==

ugh i kinda hate when they give sentience to iconic non-sentient things ngl (this sounds way too specific to be a trope, And Yet)

(disclaimer: idk enough about 616 bp lore to say if this is true there too, but if it is it's definitely not relevant/old enough to have come up in my avengers/events read-through so far)

==

oh my god they actually fully anthropomorphised it. it has clothes.

==

same.

==

POOKIES

==

yeah i'd also be embarrassed to reply "vibranium's human-sona"

==

also, vibranium has been purple this entire run, why is its personification blue????

==

i'm sorry, this is so stupid

==

he agrees with me

==

Ultimate Black Panther #14

this plot is so stupid oh my god, i was enjoying this run so much, how did we get here

==

YESSSSSS NOW WE'RE TALKING

==

HER HEART!!!!!!!!!!!

(enemies to lovers adultery (in my head), thank you god for this food!!)

==

if she really cheats on him with t'challa this scene is gonna be SO funny

==

stormpanther adultery is really the only thing that can salvage this, like. "what if vibranium had emotions" what are you, pixar???? bfr

==

Ultimate X-Men #12

i've honestly given up any hope that i might enjoy this comic :/

==

Ultimate X-Men #13

ok i'm TRYING not to criticise the art but like.

come on.

==

oh my god it's not even doing its basic job of communicating what's happening, i thought this was supposed to be her hitting whoever that is, but apparently they managed to swerve??

==

omg kuwabara yu yu hakusho hiiiii

==

Ultimate Wolverine #2

this book should just be called "ultimate winter soldier" and i'm 150% sure the only reason they didn't do this is bc the name wolverine sells more

==

every bald bitch that shows up in this title i'm like 👀👀👀👀👀 chuck?? charlie boy??? mr professor??

==

i always forget the maker stretches too

==

oh damn i think it actually might've been charles

==

i wonder how fans of either rasputin siblings feel about this book, bc my first instinct is to assume they hate it, but maybe they're enjoying an evil au, who's to say

==

hate the random russian words sprinkled in, it completely breaks the immersion. am i supposed to believe they're speaking english the rest of the time???

==

now i kinda want a winter soldier book fully set in bucky's brainwashed years :( preferably with nat in it too

==

Ultimate Spider-Man #14

oh he's got the 'tism

==

again, i'm surprisingly into the richard/felicia thing, i just think it's bullshit that he's the one getting this storyline instead of mayday

==

oh my god not them bypassing that stupid-ass 100% self-imposed "each issue is set in a different month" bullshit rule by making #13 and #14 happen in the last and first days of their months

==

comic of all time, honestly. also, how is this not by ryan north.

==

oh my god i'm barking

==

💅🏻

==

what 17 year old talks like this lmao

==

the elephant in the room of the fact that peter can easily carry him but it'd be kinda gay

==

checchetto is using so many csp assets on this issue, good for him

==

just last week i had a friend visibly reassess her entire worldview upon finding out peter parker spider-man is Hot, Actually. what a sad life that mus be. sam raimi you will pay for your crimes

==

oh i was gonna be SO mad... but it's totally an illusion isn't it, i love it

==

comic of all time, sorry!!!!

==

Ultimates #10

ooo steve and charli in the cover, this will probably be great (or annoy me tremendously)

==

oh my god, usamericans and their perpetual fantasies of having been the ones to win ww2 jesus fucking christ

"killing nazis is what we do!!1!" no, it's hiring them. put yourself in your place and stop trying to romanticise your shitty ass past.

i'm already annoyed.

==

oof, punisher-idolising neonazis. tragically accurate.

==

==

TONY IS UP!!!!!!! but also

==

i'd give my life for nults!hank

==

i LOVE the smoke that comes out of him when he flies. it's apparently an incognito thing, but it'd be a great bit of character design, makes him really feel like an "older model" when compared to johnny (and it's also a bit more machine-y, i think)

==

wait so this bucky was a kid in the war?? bc steve talked about going to bars with him...

==

NOOOOOOOO NAMOR IS DEAD

==

oh my god fucking usagent looking like a 3 door fridge

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USAGENT WAS LISTED AS A HERO????? FUCKING USAGENT??????

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thank you jim.

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yeah same. wtf

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no but i'm genuinely so upset namor is dead, i was really looking forward to his dynamic with jim :( i hope the thing with his body not decomposing means he's not actually dead

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wait, on the base????? who's fucking on the base????? is it thor and sif, i bet it's thor and sif

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oh no.

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hm i'm actually not.. happy about this.... like, it's one thing for him to be a brainwashed assassin that's more weapon than person (and eventually recovers his sense). it's a completely different one for him to be the leader of a neonazi cult, like... that's pretty upsetting. especially as bucky was supposedly originally conceived (by jewish men in the 1930s) as an answer to the hitler youth. i hope it turns out he's just brainwashed again, but "steve's son(-figure) becomes the red skull as a rejection of his legacy" is literally straight out of the original ults, so hopes aren't high

[grimmplacehq]

CHARACTER INFO:

Character name: Greta Catchlove Age & Birthday: 20 & October 10th Gender & Pronouns: Cisfemale & She/Her Occupation: Author & Magical Cheese Maker Blood Status: Pureblood Previous House: Slytherin Previous Affiliation: Neutral Face Claim: Jennie Kim

Greta is taken by Kay an NPC

BIOGRAPHY:

As a child, she hadn't realized just how different other parts of the world were. Growing up in South Korea was quite a different experience than most of her friends in England. Bo-da had been born into a Pureblood family, it was quite rare for Wixen and muggles to mingle in Asia, meaning half-bloods were nearly non-existent. On top of learning to speak Korean, Bo-da was expected to learn Japanese and English as well. Japanese so she could communicate while attending Mahoutokoto School of Magic, and English as it was the most common language in the world. Tri-lingual by age seven, Bo-da was ready to attend her first year of school.

Her first three years of school flew by in a blur, and she was excited to finally begin living at the facility for her fourth year at age eleven. However that summer came with some bad news. Bo-da’s mother had been offered a job within the British Ministry of Magic, offering a salary that was nearly impossible to achieve in South Korea. It was a very easy yes, and so the Chungsil family packed up and relocated to Northern Ireland, choosing to change their names in order to fit in better. Settling on the surname Catchlove, Bo-da had chosen Greta for her first name. It sounded just similar enough to Bo-da that she was comfortable with the transition.

Hogwarts was… boring. Her fellow Slytherin classmates were way behind, learning simple spells that Greta had mastered by age eight. She used the opportunity of being ahead to brush up on her English, and of course slack off alongside her best friend. It was entirely unexpected to see a familiar face at Hogwarts, but Greta and Kitty were attached at the hip, having similar experiences to each other, they easily got along.

Greta excelled in her classes, even as she got older and the rest of her classmates caught up with her. Magic was quite natural to her and it was easy to catch on faster than others. What a shame, considering she wasn't really planning on using her skills outside of school. While her parents had good Ministry jobs, Greta’s dream was to become a chef. It was frowned upon, it was a waste, but she didn't care. With some extra pushes from Kitty, Greta did begin to work in a high-end restaurant, learning from some of the best magical chefs there were. By age eighteen, she had found her specialty: cheese.

Magical cheese was difficult to work with and easy to mess up. Greta stayed late at the restaurant almost every evening to ensure they would have enough cheese for the following day. There were always complaints from customers on days Greta wasn't working, stating the cheese wasn't nearly as tasty as when she made it. Deciding it would be best to write down everything she knew, step by step, less complaints would come in as she taught her co-workers how to work with the cheese properly. It wasn't long before she had enough recipes written out to publish her very own cookbook. She may not be an Auror or a healer like her parents wanted, but she was a published author and that was much more important to her.

Of course Greta was aware of the war happening, it was hard to avoid it. Newspapers filled with stories of attacks and murders, friends whispering about what side they were on and who they supported, her parents even having a pair of ugly masks they only wore when there was some kind of attack. She knew it would be easy for her to fight but to be quite honest, Greta was most concerned with her career. She'd rather die doing something she loved over fight in a war that didn't have any direct affects on her. And eventually, it was over, just as she expected it would be. It was easier now for her to go on a book tour, signing copies of Charm Your Own Cheese across Europe and Asia.

Her book tour finished in winter and she returned working at the restaurant. Her father had passed away during the war, being crushed by falling debris. While visiting South Korea, Greta had spread his ashes in the Han River, mourning her loss in her home country. Since returning, Greta had plans for herself, potentially writing a second cookbook, but certainly wanting to open her very own restaurant that specialized in cheese. She always said she would do it someday, and it seems that day keeps getting closer and closer.

[max1461]

I think "learn just a bit of the local language if you want to visit somewhere as a tourist" is sometimes good practical advice, e.g. for places where not a lot of people speak English, but I've never heard anyone say "full on learn the language of the place you are visiting to fluency, even if you're just going for a short time", and if anyone does say that it's completely ridiculous.

I think it is true that if you're planning to move somewhere, you'll probably connect with people better, make friends more easily, interface with bureaucracy more easily, and so on, if you learn the local language. The point about bureaucracy might change as machine translation gets better and the world globalizes generally, but I don't see the other two points really changing.

I think learning the language of the place you are actually living is not actually as hard as it seems. It's certainly not as hard as learning a language in a classroom. Remember, you're not being graded, you don't have to remember every grammatical structure, you just have to be able to communicate well enough. To a certain degree this happens automatically once you get your foot in the door with a native-speaking social circle. I know someone who came to the US at age 20 and didn't speak a word of English; she says she learned by watching Sesame Street and trying to talk to people. She's never taken a formal class of any kind, but I've never had difficulty communicating with her in English in the many years that I've known her. Deep mastery of a language and "good enough" skill at a language are completely different goals, and the latter can be almost automatic in the right environment. I think the only people who really avoid it are those who stay in an "expat bubble".

I'm genuinely confused by how common the take "Learn the local language if you want to go somewhere" is. Learning a language requires literal years of work? Like. Is this a position that's just generally against tourism? I guess that's coherent. But it's also deeply odd to me. Tourism is so obviously fine. Like it's annoying. But it's your right to be annoying.