#and having no interpersonal contact outside of them

[mikuni14]

I wonder if each episode will start with a confusing scene from the future that will haunt us and drive us crazy 🤡 (I also wonder if 4 Minutes will end with explaining all the plots and threads, because as we know, not everything was in DFF)

I read some theories and I see that the one that is often repeated is that Tyme specifically approached Great to seduce him because he is conducting some secret operation against his family. A few questions:

if he knows this family, it means he knows who Great is (and let's say he recognized his name on the note)

why didn't he approach Great earlier, why didn't he arrange a "random" meeting earlier

why would he approach him and seduce him at all? What good would that do him?

I know that we all live in a BL bubble, but the probability of Tyme seducing Great outside of our bubble is actually pretty small, especially in those circumstances

Tyme would have to base the success of his mission on Great accepting his advances instead of reporting him to the hospital management for inappropriate behavior and maybe even stalking

well, I'm sorry, but even the most handsome doctor standing suggestively between a patient's legs and admitting that he knows their name from a private note wouldn't be able to gain someone's trust, quite the opposite. In reality, Tyme only manages to do this because Great already has visions of him and is intrigued. But please pay attention to Great's body language - if it weren't for these visions, he wouldn't be so "compliant" with the doc

why would Tyme even admit that he knows as much about him as his name and tell him how he found out about it, which was pretty weird. This sounds disturbing and off-putting to any person

if Tyme wanted to get closer to Great, it would be better for him to befriend him, gain his trust as a confidant of his problems, someone who supports him, shows a positive kind of friendship (which is exceptionally easy compared to Great's friends 😬), not to stick out with excessive knowledge about him (and his groin) I absolutely don't deny that Tyme may be conducting his operation against Great's family, it's also possible that seeing Great's name, he decided to get to know him for some of his own reasons. But this meeting is accidental, Tyme may already have some plan going on and by contacting Great right now, he may try to gain something, but he may also jeopardize this plan. Basing all this on Great's unknown sexuality is a game that could end badly for Tyme as a doctor and as a "spy". It's just.... idk. Somehow there is too much coincidence here. At the moment I am leaning towards Tyme being sincerely interested in Great 😉

Tyme is an interesting character in general, and I personally agree with his description here by @biochemjess. Already in ep 1 I was intrigued by the fact that he wants to be a surgeon, which means limiting interpersonal contact. His scenes with patients indicate that he doesn't feel a deeper connection with them and their problems, their pain. I would not be surprised if he chose this profession for a purely economic reason, to become a good surgeon and earn good money and have contact with patients only on the operating table 🤔 I was also intrigued by his reaction to what the nurses say about him.

Of course, this is only episode 2, in DFF all the surprising plot twists appeared later, so now I am writing everything in my clown makeup 🤡

I really like how the characters played by JJay and Fuaiz meet the same way in each universe. Fuaiz stands in the doorway and JJay has an ✨epiphany✨

(The mustache has to go. EDIT: @italianpersonwithashippersheart made me look at the mustache from a different angle, and after much thought I decided that it could stay 😌)

[lilybecca1]

My analysis on Midoriya and why I think he has undiagnosed BPD

Throughout Izuku's childhood, he was always seen as weird, off-putting, an outsider to social norms. Being left out, being seen as "different" is very common amongst people, especially kids, with undiagnosed disorders. So let's jump straight into it. What is BPD and how does it develop? (Contains manga spoilers)

Here are a few summaries amongst many that I have found (also, I'm not a psychologist or a healthcare professional, these are all just based on my own observations):

BPD, short for Borderline Personality Disorder, is a severe mental health condition characterized by a pervasive and challenging pattern of symptoms including emotional dysregulation, unstable self-identity, fear of abandonment, intense and unstable interpersonal relationships, impulsivity, and self-harming behaviors.

People with borderline personality disorder (BPD) experience extreme emotions. Once a powerful emotion is triggered, it is very hard for them to calm down. Because of this, they often have unstable relationships. They also engage in self-destructive behavior.

Researchers think that BPD is caused by a combination of factors, including:

Stressful or traumatic life events (for example, emotional abuse, neglect, often having felt afraid, upset, unsupported or invalidated),

And genetic factors.

Symptoms may include:

A strong fear of abandonment. This includes going to extreme measures so you're not separated or rejected, even if these fears are made up.

A pattern of unstable, intense relationships, such as believing someone is perfect one moment and then suddenly believing the person doesn't care enough or is cruel.

Quick changes in how you see yourself. This includes shifting goals and values, as well as seeing yourself as bad or as if you don't exist.

Periods of stress-related paranoia and loss of contact with reality.

Self-injury

Wide mood swings that last from a few hours to a few days. These mood swings can include periods of being very happy, irritable or anxious, or feeling shame.

Ongoing feelings of emptiness.

Inappropriate, strong anger, such as losing your temper often, being sarcastic or bitter, or physically fighting.

Now, let's get into it.

BPD, like all disorders, isn't the same for every person. Symptoms and the intensity of these symptoms can vary. It can make some people's life and relationships really difficult, but others can go on for years undiagnosed living a completely happy life without even knowing there's anything wrong. Midoriya's case, in my opinion, is the latter. These symptoms don't surface that obviously in him, but I believe, in different circumstances (queue those Villain Deku and traumatized Deku fics) these symptoms and behaviours could actually turn into much bigger problems and affect his life in a much more impactful way. But, in any case, let's analyze these symptoms and how they may have surfaced in him throughout the manga.

Of course, I decided to turn to TikTok as well and watch some actual explanations and experiences from people who actually have been diagnosed with this disorder in order to understand BPD on a more subjective level, not just objective. And what I have found turned out to be very interesting.

People with BPD often develop a very emotionally attached connection with one specific person in their life, which is their "Favorite person". This person can be anything including a friend, family, therapist, partner, etc. This is a person that someone with BPD can become dependent on. They often view them as a person who's perfect and can do nothing wrong. They might overshare, and expect availability from that person at all times. The dependence on this person goes beyond just adoration, because they are idolizing them to the point where it's all consuming. A person with BPD can switch from absolute adoration one moment to absolute hate the next. They might have trouble with boundaries, sometimes even having zero boundaries when it comes to that person. Their life constantly revolves around that person and the favorite person's identity becomes their own, and they can feel literal physical pain when losing that person. You see where I'm getting at?

I believe Midoriya has developed this dependency and attachment towards one particular person, can you guess who?

Yep, Bakugo Katsuki

Midoriya views Kacchan as perfect, as the embodiment of the image of victory. It's like he blindly ignores Katsuki's bad traits and the things he has done to him, and he idealizes him to the point that Katsuki became his symbol of victory. So much so that he himself has absorbed this identity that he built around Katsuki, for example during battles, which we see during the moments he clearly imitates Bakugo and mirrors him. Izuku "ILoveKacchan'sPersonalSpace" Midoriya basically has zero boundaries when it comes to Katsuki, I mean y'all let's not forget he basically stalked him and even knows what body part Katsuki washes first in the shower. Not to mention he gives zero fucks about boundaries when he butts into Bakugo's emotions even though Bakugo has clearly tried setting boundaries for almost their whole time knowing each other. Deku has also overshared with Katsuki(and only Katsuki), when he told him about OFA even though it was literally meant to be the one secret that he should have kept to himself. His life has always revolved around Bakugo to the point he cannot keep himself away from him.

And talk about experiencing physical pain when losing the favorite person...remember when Bakugo was kidnapped? Yeah, remember that kinda cringe and second hand embarrassing, absolutely animalistic scream that Midoriya let out? Yeah, well..... And then when he actually lost Katsuki, when he saw his dead body. Izuku lost control of his quirks in the middle of a freaking battle, LITERALLY started choking on Blackwhip and screaming in pain, and Blackwhip turned into a heart pierced by three swords that symbolizes intense and extreme physical and emotional pain. Need I say more? No.

And if you think Midoriya isn't capable of extreme hate too, ahhahaha, you're wrong. He can fr switch from absolutely adoring his Kacchan to planning how he's gonna rip off his legs in his diary. Yeah, I haven't forgotten about that one, Izuku.

So, it's very clear that Bakugo is Midoriya's FP and that he has developed this unhealthy, borderline toxic dependency towards him. But let's break down his character even further.

People with BPD tend to engage in self-harming and dangerous activities impulsively, diving in without thinking, in order to feel something. Well, we can tick that one too. Problem child number 1 is known to do and jump into things impulsively without thinking, even if it causes self-injury. In fact, he sometimes engages these self-destructive behaviours on purpose, like all those times when he broke his own bones over and over again. All this just so he can make Todoroki use his right side. Seriously, Deku. Yes, they are training to be heroes, but noone in the class is as reckless and impulsive as Izuku.

Which actually brings me to my next point, which is people with BPD objectifying themselves for validation, going insane lengths just to prove their own self-worth, never having a clear sense of self and seeing themselves as bad or as if they don't exist. I have talked about this in a previous theory of mine too, which you can read here. Midoriya Izuku does not have a clear sense of self. He mirrors others around him, behaving according to the mood and expectations of others. He has no sense of self, because he has built his identity around wanting to be a hero. To him, he is only worth something if he reaches that goal, that dream. Meaning he has no self worth or identity unless he does as he is expected to do, aka be a hero and put everyone else before himself, sacrificing his own needs, and in worse cases his own well-being. He basically objectifies his own self and turns himself into a simple puppet, a Deku, an empty vessel that can hold OFA and his dream of being a hero. To himself, he is nothing more than an object that's meant to be sacrificed if it's needed.

Now, let's continue with: emotional dysregulation, extreme mood swings, and inappropriate, strong anger, such as losing your temper often, being sarcastic or bitter, or physically fighting.

Well, first let's talk about something that's called "splitting". BPD is a disorder that causes extreme mood swings, making the person go one second from feeling happy and fine, to the next second feeling complete, pure rage. There is a fine line between these two moods, and it's very easy to fall over the edge. For some people, it can happen multiple times a day and could last from minutes to hours to even days, and for others, it can happen very rarely, it depends on how severe the symptoms are for each person. One thing in common though, is that splitting occurs when a specific memory, trauma or emotion gets triggered.

There are different types of splits, one of them being Rage split. Rage splits usually come with sudden outbursts of anger that seemingly come out of nowhere. When it occurs, the person might feel a tightness in their chest, their vision might narrow. They might experience a burning sensation in their chest as if their heart is trying to escape. This overwhelming emotion of anger can cause them to become infuriated with someone or something for no apparent reason. These episodes can cause impulsive actions, inappropriate speech and violent behaviour. It's almost like a cathartic release of emotion, and oftentimes the person doesn't remember the event fully, or only remembers it as a blur.

Now let's compare Midoriya's rage and outbursts and how they could be considered as splitting.

Scenario One: Izuku screaming his ass off saying GIVE ME MY KACCHAN BACK, charging at the obviously overpowered villains with two broken arms. Now, we can all agree that this was pretty out of character for him, and everyone was like Okay wtf. So the threat of losing Katsuki(which also directly correlates to his fear of abandonment) triggered him and made him impulsively and recklessly run towards the villains, even though he was completely defenseless.

Scenario Two: "Monoma, you b*tch". Midoriya literally unlocking a NEW QUIRK cause Monoma was talking shit about his FP, causing violent behaviour from him, getting tunnel vision, being completely OUT of it to the point they had to use Shinso's quirk to make him snap out of the episode. And now, this wasn't just about some rando insulting Bakugo. In my theory I explained how Monoma insulting Bakugo was essentially Monoma insulting Izuku's own values and identity. Because he has absorbed Bakugo's ideals, his values, his desire to win. Monoma talking shit about him felt like he just insulted who Izuku was as a person, as if he jabbed at the very essence of Izuku's dream, of his ideals. THAT was why it triggered him so bad.

Scenario Three: Midoriya vs Shigaraki 1. FP got stabbed, Midoriya immediately saw red and ran straight into the villain's hand without thinking about the consequences. He almost rage quit y'all. He raged so hard he bit the goddamn tendril like a freaking dog. He disassociated so hard he got tunnel vision and his eyes actually lit ablaze. Bruh.

Scenario There'stoomuchtokeepcount: Midoriya vs Shigaraki 2. Aka Deku AFK-ing in the middle of a freaking war and being like I'm out, y'all on your own now, after seeing FP's dead body. Tightness in his chest, unable to breathe, vision narrowed, in fact, completely blocked because of Smokescreen. A burning sensation in his chest as if his heart wanted to escape = Three of Swords. A cathartic release of emotion as his quirks released and gotten out of control. His biggest rage split moment right there.

But, rage isn't the only type of splitting that can occur. Another type is Isolation split.

Isolation splits usually stem from a deep-seated fear of abandonment. You may find yourself feeling unwelcome and unwanted, even in familiar environments such as school. You might have an urge to push people away, and often cut yourself off from others. For some, this means aggressively cutting people out of their lives for no apparent reason, for others, it might be a more subtle withdrawal from social groups and conversations. All the while hoping that someone will notice and ask them how they are doing. It might also include suppressing anger into anxiety, guilt, or self-hatred, identity dysmorphia, self-sabotaging relationships to be in control, stress-related paranoia, loss of contact with reality, and on-going feelings of emptiness.

Reminds me of a certain Vigilante Arc.

Isolation splits usually stem from fear of abandonment. In Izuku's case, why did he leave UA? Well, on the surface level, it was to protect his classmates from harm. But on a deeper level..

During his Vigilante Arc, he felt like he had to carry the burden of OFA all by himself. He felt like this responsibility that he carried made him a burden for others, including Katsuki, his friends, his family, and All Might. He feared that they would also realize this and feel like he's a burden, so he pushed them away, cut himself off, and left before they could leave him behind. Of course, this is not the truth, but this is what he believed. His feelings of anxiety towards the possibility of losing them in the war, his guilt of being a burden, his self-sabotaging is what made him believe that he is unwanted, unwelcome. During splits, the person views everything as either black or white, no in-between. Either all good, or all bad. He wanted to feel in control by leaving them behind for "their sake", almost maniacally insistent on being alone, like in the scene where All Might wanted to check on him and give him some food, but Deku ultimately ended up pushing him away and leaving him on the ground too.

During these episodes, people with BPD cannot logically think the situation through, they don't understand that their intense paranoia and belief that everyone hates them is just the reflection of their own feelings. During this episode, this Vigilante Arc(the episode didn't last for the entire arc, but there were probably higher and lower moments instead) he lost contact with reality and lived in a state of constant paranoia and a feeling of emptiness. He believed it was for the "better", but deep inside, that child inside of him just wanted someone to save him, to pull him back and not let go. Deep down he was just a child who just wanted some reassurance and to be validated. Like in his letter to Katsuki. Although we didn't see the whole letter, there were snippets of "Help me", and "thanks for everything" in it, reflecting Izuku's own feelings of "Please love me" and how even though he said he wanted to be alone, deep down he just wanted Katsuki to save him, to be there by his side.

Lastly, another symptom of BPD that can occur, albeit rarely, is the idolization, devaluation and ghosting of certain people, specifically the Favorite Person. This might just, technically, explain the ending of the manga and Chapter 431. Midoriya subconsciously idolized Katsuki his whole life seeing him as perfect. But as we all know, nobody is perfect. Midoriya had always viewed Kacchan as his image of victory, as someone who cannot lose. Yet, he has. The very person who he believed could never ever lose died on the battlefield. The person who believed was the strongest broke down crying in front of him saying he wants to be on his heels for the rest of his life. And what was Izuku's reaction?

Stop crying, this isn't like you.

Midoriya progressively went through the devaluation of Bakugo Katsuki's character, of his Favorite Person. Now, this is just a theory, because devaluation doesn't necessarily mean anything bad. It just means that he had stopped blindly idolizing Katsuki and realized that he is just a human too.

But in some cases of BPD, devaluation also comes with losing interest. Of finding a new favorite person who they see as their new "idol". Or to put it simply, Uraraka. Now, I don't want to go into more details because I am still very much hurt from Chapter 431, but we have seen an obvious ignorance, almost ghosting from Izuku's side towards Katsuki, something that is completely the opposite of how he would have acted before the war. Instead, he is looking at Ochaco as if she was his hero, and he sees her as a person that he wants to get to know more, to get closer to. Leaving Bakugo behind.

I spy an untreated BPD right there. But how could this disorder have developed in Midoriya? Well, it can be due to either genetics, or a series of traumatic events during childhood, for example emotional abuse, neglect, and going through feelings like being afraid, upset, unsupported or unvalidated.

Well emotional abuse came from the bullying. Neglect came from his father leaving. Being afraid was also because of the bullying and Bakugo. He felt unsupported by his own mother when it came to his dream of becoming a hero after being diagnosed quirkless. And he felt unvalidated his whole life simply because he didn't have a quirk. So yeah. I'm pretty sure these were all reasons that he has developed BPD, although not a severe case. If he actually turned into a villain and never got into UA, I imagine these symptoms could have worsened, making him extremely irritable, prone to snapping and having emotional outbursts and having an even more toxic codependency in his relationships.

I'm not saying that BPD is anything bad, I also have a friend who has BPD and it doesn't make you a bad person, people with BPD just simply experience emotions more intensely than others.

So yeah, I hope you guys enjoyed this analysis, and of course, let me know what you guys think!

[mysumeow]

Tighnari NSFW Alphabet pt. 1 ⊱☆⊰

warnings: aside from the obvious smut, i hint at yandere tighnari briefly.

a/n: i was planning on posting this last friday but i completely forgot...hehe. i've been playing the star rail to the honkai or whatever the title is supposed to mean /j

PART TWO

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Laps up any type of marking he left on you during sex. Bite marks, love bites, etc. It comes to him as natural as breathing, it’s wired into the most primitive section of his brain to tend to his mate’s marks. If you were to point this out to him, he would get a little flustered and consciously try not to do it again (he always fails, by the way). You must let him know that you either think it’s cute or you don’t mind.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

His tail. Have you seen how many voice lines he has talking about his tail? Okay, to be fair, there's only three, I think. Point is, he takes great care of his tail and properly grooms it every day. So soft, fluffy, you could fall asleep on it with how pleasant it is. All thanks to the amount of attention and thorough routine he keeps it on. 

His ears are a close second, if only not for the occasional unwanted attention, they would be number one.

On his partner, he tends to deviate his attention to their neck and collarbones. This is yet ‘nother tendency that stems from his primitive side of marking up.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Mother nature did a great job at ensuring their species lives on for a long time because when Tighnari cums, it's gonna be a lot. And it's of a thick consistency, he always apologizes for how much he cums, because it always ends up trickling down your thighs and leaving you full. That is, of course, if you allow him to breed you. Otherwise, if he's cumming down your throat or outside, it's going to shoot quite far so you might want to be careful with that.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Scenting. Whether that's leaving his scent on you or vice versa. He's not touchy with just anyone, aside from general courteous gestures or when he must take care of some unfortunate adventurer. When he really likes someone, he's more open to receiving physical contact. So, if you want to go in for a hug before you leave, he'll accept it gladly. The first time you hugged him, he didn't understand why he felt so pent up until he realized he could still smell your scent on his clothes and skin. That's when it clicked for him: one, his scent's still on you too, even if your nose might not be as sensitive as his; and two: he really, really likes having your aroma lingering around him. I'll leave to your imagination what he did with his hoodie that day. 

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

We can assume that, since his kin is based on fennec foxes, they put great value on interpersonal relationships. It's not common for them to get too close in that way just with anyone. Therefore, there's a good chance you're the first person he ever gets that comfortable with. If you'll indulge him, make sure you'll stay with him always, unless you want to trigger some not healthy amount of obsession with you. 

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

He tries to be romantic and go with the position he believes is the least nerve-wracking for you both and starts with missionary, which he progressively lets himself go and end up as a mating press. That's at least until you both get used to each other, and then he switches it up to you on your hands and knees, and, occasionally, prone bone. He prefers those positions because he believes it's more comfortable for him to latch on your neck and circle your waist with his arms. A movement which is necessary thanks to how rough he can get during it, his instincts tell him to hold on to you and keep you still to ensure you accept all of him.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Serious but if he sees you're tense he'll make some comment on something dumb to try to take your mind away from your nervousness. Although, he's more inclined to sort to comforting words rather than funny comments.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Trimmed. It can get quite bushy if left unattended, so I think he’d rather keep it trimmed.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

I see our beloved foxboy gravitate more towards being romantic during intimacy. He doesn’t mind telling you how much you mean to him, in fact—he wants you to feel loved. Although his words are sweet when you’re in that mood, his movements don’t get any softer. He really tries to be gentle, but if he notices you have a particular liking to him going harder, he can lose a bit of control.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

A vicious loop. His position as the lead forest watcher is a hectic one, he barely has any time for himself. Which aids on his frustration build up more. On nights he can’t sleep because of all that pent up stress, he resorts to it.

[obstinaterixatrix]

Do u know any good mob psycho 100 fanfics?? Or authors??

well obviously my sister but I’m guessing you’re the same anon so 1) you already know her fics 2) you want different recs from what’s on her list (some of them being fics I rec’d to her lol). recs will skew heavily seri/rei and I’m just going through my bookmarks so it’s gonna be most recently read to oldest read. also seconding sister’s recs of bobmoss and crookedturtle. but I’ll add a fic from each anyway because I already wrote something for one while I was drafting this (oops)

Recollection by CowardlyBean

This is the journal of missing 31 year old Reigen Arataka, distributed with permission from friends and family. The version presented in this document has been kindly edited with added commentary by a loyal customer of his. -Editor’s Note

gen, experimental and in progress at 14k so definitely deserves more love than it’s getting. inspired by house of leaves; as the summary says, it’s some rando writing annotations about reigen’s journal, but Something Weird Is Going On. the 4th chapter updated so I actually need to catch up. also, sister rec’d this fic to me

Like Acid Reflux, or Love by partingxshot

Dating Reigen is like dating a single dad—only with more children, weirder scruples, and an extreme ruthlessness vis-à-vis group takoyaki discounts. He's not hot enough for this.

OR: "Me, You and Steve" by Garfunkel and Oates but with fifteen million teenagers.

OR: Outsider POV exploring Reigen’s dedication to his gaggle of bizarre children through an ill-fated dating attempt.

OR: Serizawa gets bruxism.

gen(/pre-relationship seri/rei), oneshot, 7k. oc/reigen breakup lmao. extremely funny concept, extremely good execution

Dream Dial by Alakazamboni

For the better part of nine years, Arataka has proudly worked in customer service at a behemoth of a company. At least, that's what he remembers, but a strange illness and a mysterious caller keeps trying to convince him otherwise. It doesn't help that this caller has the power to distort reality.

seri/rei, in progress, 16k. great uncanny atmosphere, and also reigen is trapped in time prison as a miserable office worker. hasn’t been updated for a while but read it anyway, the stoping point is fine

What We Make by crookedturtle

Reigen and Tome are kidnapped from the Spirits and Such office to be used as leverage against Mob. They have two goals: to contact the outside world, and keep each other safe. In doing so they engage in a dangerous game of lies and manipulation with their captors—a game with potentially deadly consequences.

gen (bg seri/rei), complete, 36k. Good for whump and high stakes interpersonal maneuvering & drama. I liked how the story extends beyond rescue and goes into how everyone navigates the fallout

Man's Best Friend by bobmoss

A cursed dog gets left at Spirits and Such. Anyone who pets it is doomed to die a horrible death.

Reigen, of course, pets it.

seri/rei, oneshot, 4k. funny and cute and sweet :) there’s a very charming tentative & tender vibe

heart line by ruthwrites

It doesn’t really matter, he reminds himself. He’s making a change, just like all of Reigen’s clients. What’s on his hands isn’t set in stone. He just has to make sure Reigen doesn’t see it— even if it might feel nice to have that steady attention, Reigen’s hands that are so much nicer than Serizawa’s folding around his.

(or: Reigen starts offering palm readings as a service, leading to Serizawa having to confront his feelings for his boss.)

seri/rei, oneshot, 6k. getting together fluff, a fun light read that also highlights serizawa’s insecurities—the internal narration has good character voice

If you won't believe me when I say it, believe me when I don't by deathdefied

Two years after Reigen invited Serizawa to work for him, he still can't quite categorize his feelings for his coworker. Instead of actually dealing with those feelings like an adult and talking to his friend, he decided to get really paranoid and overthink everything Serizawa does.

seri/rei, complete, 26k. reigen drives himself nuts lmao

Obvious by skeilig

Tome’s perspective on Reigen and Serizawa’s developing relationship.

gen (but about seri/rei), oneshot, 3k. I like outsider perspective getting together fics, especially when the perspective character is like ‘I’m actually not invested in this except when it affects me directly’

Cover Me by flecksofpoppy

Reigen’s shadow seems longer as the days move forward, more solitary. The cuts on his face heal and the ache in his bones go away, but a new sting replaces it. It’s loneliness, the thing he had managed to avoid ever since a primary school-aged kid who could make cups float stumbled into his office so many years ago.

seri/rei, oneshot, 3k. getting together fic that shows off a little of reigen’s gloomier side, it’s cute

loved you just a little too much by shcherbatskayas

You learn how to let go.

(It doesn't come naturally.)

gen(ish), oneshot, 2k. 2nd person character study of serizawa’s relationship with touichiro, I liked the ambivalence; effectively captures development over time with a relatively short wordcount.

offering genuine help with genuine results by suitablyskippy

“The curse was pretty clear on me not telling lies,” concedes Reigen. “It was pretty clear on me telling the truth. But,” as he lifts one finger, already sliding into the same educational tone he generally uses for imparting wisdom to Mob about life and love and the overall holistic benefits of making sure he’s always available for unexpected overtime work on weekends, “telling the truth isn’t necessarily the same as being honest, is it?”

“You’re the professional liar,” says Dimple. “You tell me.”

(Being cursed to only tell the truth and being cursed with Dimple as an employee are pretty much equally bad, as far as Reigen's stress levels are concerned.)

gen, oneshot, 2k. the tags include friends with no benefits whatsoever, which is very apt. Very funny to have reigen and dimple be petty and shady

a slightly more miraculous miracle by suitablyskippy

“Rumour has it that something impossible’s happened. Something that could never have happened. That shouldn’t have been able to happen.” In a single slick move Mezato produces a tiny voice recorder from an inside pocket, flips it open and active, and holds it up before Mob’s mouth to ask him, in a tone of devastating intensity: “Do you know anything about… a miracle, Mob-kun?”

Mob doesn’t hesitate. “We had maths homework to hand in,” he says. “But now we don’t have to. We don’t even have to go to the lesson.”

(The sun is shining, the birds are singing, Salt Middle School has been closed by an unexplained miracle, and the only thing wrong in Spice City is the fact that nothing is even slightly wrong at all.)

teru/mob, incomplete, 55k. for the most part I haven’t been repeating authors on this list, but listen. listen to me. I need you to listen. it is extremely unlikely for this fic to ever be completed. but hark, lest this sad probability turn you away and leave you dispassionately scrolling to the next fic, I need you (you specifically) to know that if I were in the same room as you, I would be wrestling the phone/mouse/trackpad/touchscreen/etc from your hands and furiously clicking the link. when I bookmarked this fic in 2017 I described it as having “some breathtakingly sensical prose and the funniest misunderstandings I’ve ever read”. trust me from seven years ago. open your heart.

skylight by inexhaustible

unconnected snapshots in what might, in some worlds, be something a little like recovery.

seri/rei, oneshot, 2k. character study that nails the tension of an escalating romantic atmosphere.

come on, come on, come over (take it off your shoulder) by mortarsmayfall

Reigen's free hand cradles Serizawa's head, curled under his ear just so to turn it for a better angle. He feels his pulse pound under Reigen's fingers, shivers just the slightest bit. If Reigen notices, he doesn't say anything about it.

seri/rei, oneshot, 2k. when I first read this I saved it as a private bookmark because I was so embarrassed by the sheer intimacy of haircuts with severely unresolved sexual tension. I’m guessing this was written after studio bones gave us reigen cutting serizawa’s hair. crumbs no more; for once we had a feast to enjoy. short & sweet getting together fic

Off-White by reigreitz

Some habits are tells.

seri/rei, oneshot, 1k. snapshots of pre-relationship and established relationship scenes, I’m quite fond of it. on my first reading I’m pretty sure I remember not paying attention to the habit piece at all (even with it being right in the summary) so at the last scene I was hit by the double whammy of ‘oh so that was what serizawa was reacting to’ and ‘AW… THAT’S SWEET…’; I think the fic does a great job of hiding/not acknowledging certain things the perspective character knows and is reacting to, which makes it fun to reread and pinpoint what exactly serizawa’s previously more opaque train of thought was. like, it’s the same stuff, but you get to read into more nuance.

the seven stages of falling in love by reigen arataka by matsunoble

You suppose one of the weirdest times to realize you've fallen deeply and irrevocably in love is when it's fuck o'clock in the morning and you're blearily checking your fridge for leftover curry.

seri/rei, oneshot, 3k. I was quite taken by the mundane (and sometimes unappealing) descriptions of love, and I like when serizawa has the upper hand

Mr. Psychic by beefstatic

Looks like trouble in Spice City...

seri/rei, oneshot, 4k. Serizawa Acts Like An Intimidating Bodyguard During Tense/Shady Situations. fun emphasis on that potential aspect of his character, I like how it’s done.

Late by hamlingo

For the first few days after hiring Serizawa, Reigen couldn’t help but be alarmed when the door opened at eight o’clock sharp in the mornings. He got used to it eventually, and in a month’s time he was more surprised when the door didn’t creak open right on time.

This was one of those mornings.

seri/rei, oneshot, 2k. this is actually among the first seri/rei fics I bookmarked so I can say with relative certainty that on may 20th 2017 I decided that maybe seri/rei was not just a joke of me indulging my own spurious unreasonable whims. fun character study and has that enjoyable tension of pleasant pre-relationship uncertainty.

Quiet Talks by krypkaktus

At some point, Reigen cutting his hair twice a month had turned into a mutual habit.

seri/rei, oneshot, 600 words. another charming snapshot of pre-relationship uncertainty, pleasantly embarrassing unresolved romantic tension.

walk in by ruthwrites

It was then he realized that the reason Reigen and Serizawa were standing so close was because they were kissing.

Mob was not really sure what to do with that information.

(or: mob leaves something at the office, comes back, and walks into something he wasn't supposed to)

seri/rei, oneshot, 3k. an extremely popular fic for extremely valid reasons, this is a shining example of the outsider POV shipfic where the perspective character is like. I’m 14 and did not want to see you guys kissing. and the couple is like. we also did not want you to see us kissing, this is excruciatingly awkward.

tomorrow isn't always another day by suitablyskippy

It’s like Reigen’s been waiting for the question. He stops dead on the pavement, grips Mob by the shoulders, and stares down into his eyes with an expression as haunted as though every ghost the pair of them has ever exorcised has taken up residence behind it. “Mob,” he says. “Mob,” he says again. “Tell me, Mob. Look at me and tell me. Tell me truthfully. Do I look cursed to you?”

Mob looks at him, and tells him truthfully. “No.”

“Well, you didn’t look very long,” says Reigen. “Let’s just stand here for a moment, like so, and you can have another look, a nice long look, and really think about it...”

(There's nothing strange about being called back to exorcise the same haunted photocopier six days in a row. It must just be a very haunted photocopier.)

gen, oneshot, 18k. I didn’t mean to rec the same author three (3) times but this is also one of my top faves. extremely funny time prison where nobody is on the same page ever.

space voyage by Anonymous

Tome Kurata is slightly famous—or notorious, more like—for being... a weirdo, to put it simply. She's definitely a person of interest. Just not exactly in a newsworthy way, which is obviously the only way that matters.

mezato/tome, oneshot, 1k. charming pre-relationship contention, they’re the same type of self-absorbed and tunnel vision (affectionate)

I was thinking of not writing up recs for sister’s fics but since one author got three (3) fics on the list I’m gonna also put 3 of my fave fics of sister’s

Reigen's Comprehensive Fool-Proof Guide on How Not To Be Next Door Neighbors With Your Employee (because that'd just be creepy) by MalkyTop

Reigen hires Serizawa and they somehow end up as roommates.

seri/rei, complete, 17k. a fic sister wrote for ✨ME✨ that shows off reigen’s neuroticism and his decidedly not-normal attempts to come across as Extremely Normal, The Most Normal Man Alive. there are so many comedic setups and payoffs. there are so many shenanigans. reigen gets frog-boiled into romance. actually, I drop that term a lot but I’m not sure it’s a common enough to intuitively understand. it refers to the boiling frog metaphor

If At First You Don't Succeed, Find a Loophole by MalkyTop

Reigen keeps dying; Serizawa keeps trying to save him.

seri/rei, complete, 18k. sister was insane for this because she trapped all of her readers AND herself in time prison by releasing one chapter a day. it was really funny to witness because I was the only person not in time prison by virtue of editing privilege. while we were watching mondays: see you next week (an office time loop movie), sister was saying she was impressed at how effective/efficient the movie was at picking which scenes to repeat. this is to say, as someone who notices these details, sister was very intentional about when things changed and how things changed from the perspective of a character completely unaware of time prison. also, the emotional momentum is extremely good, I loved reading serizawa’s increasing desperation from reigen’s context-less perspective.

in absentia* by MalkyTop

After what was supposed to be a routine exorcism, Reigen wakes up in the wrong body.

serirei, complete, 26k. slowburn bodyswap with mystery and intrigue. a solid casefic! I can be biased and right. there are metanarrative elements that I find fun and that, in my opinion, highlights how sister did in fact get a degree in philosophy. there’s also some fun subtle and messy characterization notes, like when serizawa asks reigen not to cook for him. it’s hard to talk about what I like about this fic without giving away a lot of specifics, so go read it.

[fandomiplier]

bi-han and affection

pairing: character study; no pairing

genre: angst; no comfort

warnings: intergenerational trauma, death

hi there! this was just something i wrote in a hurry because i desperately need more bi-han characterization/character studies. also, yall can snatch autistic!bi-han from my cold, dead hands. hope you enjoy!

bi-han is not a conventionally affectionate person.

as far as he recalls, he never was. bi-han doesn't dwell on childhood memories as much as his brothers do - he doesn't see the usefulness of reminiscing, especially on memories he sees as useless. but, as far as he recalls, he's always been distant, even in the beginning of his training.

(bi-han doesn't have any memory from before he began his lin kuei training; his oldest memory is holding a bo and learning how to use it as a weapon by his tutor. he was 7).

he does not enjoy physical contact. he never enjoyed it, even as a kid - being touched without consent is something bi-han despises with a fiery passion. the cryomancy does not aid in that aspect; the warmth of the touch is bothersome and sometimes painful. but it feels uncomfortable in a different way, almost as if his bones ache inside his body once people touch him without consent or warning. it often leads to an angry discussion or someone leaving with a broken nose. kuai liang tends to deal with the situation for him, especially when the perpetrator is an important figure or of interest to the lin kuei. but sometimes his reaction time gets the best of him - and confrontation is inevitable.

at the same time, bi-han is not verbally affectionate. when necessary, bi-han can lecture his students on fighting techniques, on weaponry, on war strategy and philosophy. he has done it before countless times, each time more eloquently than the last - bi-han is an excellent teacher, even though he lacks patience most times. but when it comes to interpersonal relations, bi-han is a complete disaster. surely, he can converse with other clan leaders, can discuss politics and trade deals, can and has secured alliances with other clans ever since he became grandmaster. he looks smooth - but, in private, bi-han falls flat every single time he has to interact with someone. it feels odd and weird and uncomfortable, both for the person and for him. it feels just like being touched, like his bones creak under his muscles once the awkwardness sets in - it feels physically painful.

so he refrains. he refrains from most celebrations or social gatherings, he does not interact with people outside of work or training. he leaves his bedroom in the early morning, works and trains until exhaustion and, once he's satisfied with his productivity, returns to his chambers to bathe, eat and sleep. that is, if he doesn't sleep at his table, in the grandmaster's office - kuai liang finds him unconscious on top of stacks of papers, sleeping over lin kuei documents and mission reports.

(on those nights, either kuai liang or tomas leave him a cup of tea and some food for once he wakes up. bi-han never thanks them for it, but they know he appreciates the care).

even before he became grandmaster, bi-han had the exact same routine: wake up, train, classes, train again, eat, bathe and sleep. his cryomancy interfered severely with his sleep - something about his metabolic rate trying to compensate for the cold, so he feels constantly awake. insomnia has accompanied him for years and the easiest way to sleep is to just exhaust himself enough that he passes out and sleeps until the next morning. it doesn't always work - but it does the trick on most nights. his mother was desperate seeing her son exhaust himself to sleep, but they had no other solution to the issue.

his mother worried about him. she knew bi-han was the most dedicated of all her sons, even though kuai liang and tomas have always been as devoted to the clan as the eldest. but bi-han's obstinate nature worried her. it worried her that bi-han would exhaust himself to the point of death to fulfill his father's demands. the lack of physical contact and verbal communication, even with his own family, terrified her; and realizing how closed off bi-han had and would always be made her worry for his wellbeing even in her last days.

kuai liang and tomas don't talk about it. they know trying to argue with bi-han is futile - and would end badly for both of them. tomas knows bi-han is closed-off because he feels uncomfortable and would rather die than force his brother into an uncomfortable situation. kuai liang still worries and wishes his brother would open up more, even if only with his brothers, but he also knows bi-han is not the type of person to verbalize concerns or issues. his brother is practical and methodical; the type of person to solve the issue before telling anyone about it. so he knows that, if someone were the matter, he would know sooner or later; but his mother's worry rubbed off on him.

bi-han may not be verbally or physically affectionate, but one can clearly tell when he is worried. bi-han cares for very few people in this world and he unconsciously dotes over them a little when worried - which is a lot, considering bi-han does not dote on anyone in normal circumstances. questioning on their welfare and wellbeing is a very clear sign bi-han is worried (at least for his brothers, who are often at the other end of the question). tending for wounds and aiding with training unprompted are also possibilities, while less common. openly admitting worry is the final and rarest event, only reserved for his late mother.

for bi-han, worry and doting are a display of affection. not that he realizes it consciously, since he rarely dwells on the reason why he acts like this with specific people. but ensuring their safety and wellbeing is how he shows people that he cares, even if he can't verbalize it properly. (he doesn't verbalize it at all; bi-han does not do feelings).

bi-han may not be conventionally affectionate - but he worries plenty for the ones he loves. and that is enough, at least for him.

(c) fandomiplier. do not repost.

[dr-futbol-blog]

The Defiant One, Pt. 2

They contact Atlantis. The fact that Sheppard and McKay are suddenly on the same page, suddenly of one mind, is underlined by the fact that they keep using the pronoun "we". Just a moment ago, they both were using the passive voice and "I" and "you", and suddenly it's "we". It's a noticeable, tangible change. And other characters notice it too.

"We figure the Ancient satellite shot the Wraith ship down in the final battle for Atlantis."

"The wealth of scientific and military knowledge we could acquire is invaluable."

"We have to go down and take a look."

"All the more reason we should have a look. We're already here."

I want to highlight the fact that they are both doing this, and they are taking turns doing it. They are speaking with one voice and one mind, here. And not only that, but Weir is treating them the same. As an item. She definitely noticed something going on between them in the previous episode, first in Rodney's lab watching them get just a little too excited, get a little bit too close to each other discussing... theories, and then definitely during the siege, watching McKay, hearing Sheppard. There, she wasn't a barrier between them, she was their go-between.

And they are not just using words to communicate. The whole call to Atlantis, they are talking to the city but they are having a conversation with each other using facial expressions, exchanging looks, nodding at each other, moving their bodies. It's a whole conversation that's happening outside of the words used.

I mentioned in connection with Home (S01E08) that we see several times that Rodney has managed to talk Sheppard into doing something he might not have originally intended or wanted to do. Usually, we only see the result, we see them on some mission on a random planet or station that McKay wanted to check out. Here, we actually see him do it:

He mouths the words "Help me!" to Sheppard. That's all Sheppard needs. He does it... automatically, like he doesn't even think about it, it's just his natural response. Sheppard looks helpless, like he would probably do anything for this man if he thought to ask (and, um, in the second season we see how far Rodney can push that, but let's get to that later).

The "our interest is purely professional" is not only extremely suggestive. He's obviously referring to the planet and the distress call, but he could just as well be saying that about himself and Sheppard in general and he would be lying. But also, he's speaking for the both of them here. He is. speaking. for the both. of them.

They both also look really miffed when Dr. Gaul tries to get in the way of their budding adventure, and the poor guy really did end up paying the ultimate price just for having been in the vicinity of fire and powder, which as they kiss consume.

It should also be pointed out that while McKay is clearly doing the instigating, Sheppard is the one who goes so far as to lie to Elizabeth. That is, he goes above and beyond for McKay. Also, Elizabeth clearly did not believe for one second that their interest was purely professional, whether regarding the planet or their interpersonal relationship. She has clearly given up trying to reign them in.

Once they're on the planet, we see McKay apply a chapstick to his lips and act like a real bitchy queen toward Dr. Gaul (and as he stands with his hands folded across his chest behind the title card, we're not left wondering who the 'Defiant One' of the episode is supposed to be; McKay is the defiant one in that he refuses to go by Sheppard's plan to keep him at arm's length). They start bickering, with very little gusto. Sheppard interjects with: "Alright, knock it off, guys. I've spent the last fifteen hours listening to you two."

First of all, Dr. Abrams might have a whole different characterization of what the past fifteen hours in the jumper had been like:

Second, Sheppard is both jealous of people Rodney gives attention to and uses projection as a psychological self-defense mechanism pretty much constantly.

There's a scene in First Strike (S03E20), where Sheppard seeks McKay out for no other purpose than to spend time with him (he was just out discussing comics with Ronan and Teyla, being completely useless) and he walks in on McKay and Zelenka arguing. He quips with "Why don't you guys just make out and get it over with?" (which just tells us that he a) wanted to make out with Rodney or b) had done so in the past, but we'll circle back to that later and c) he thinks that the best and possibly the only way to get McKay to stop bickering is to make out with him).

He wants to be the one bickering with Rodney. He does not like it when he gives that much attention to someone else, no sir. By what we saw of their interaction earlier, it doesn't seem like McKay had been talking to Dr. Gaul very much if at all on the jumper, having been engaged in learning how to steer it and focusing on trying to trying to find that straight line.

Sheppard manages to do two things, here: he stakes a claim on Rodney and he attempts to reclaim some modicum of distance between them because back in the jumper, he had just completely forgotten why he had started doing that in the first place. Now, in his fatigues and with his hand on his weapon, he remembers again.

He cloaks the jumper and tells the others to remember where they "parked it". It's a very fatherly thing to do. Like they're a family on a vacation. But are we to understand him as a dad with three toddlers he has to watch out for, or..?

The other scientists certainly act like toddlers. They're basically doing the "Are we there yet?" routine, wondering why they had to park so far. They have clearly never been out on a mission before, so Sheppard explains mission protocol to them; that there's a reason that he does things the way he does. By this time, McKay already understand this. Sure, he also whines about having to walk such a long way, but it's more to connect with Sheppard and to show the others that the two of them are on the same team: "Don't worry, Brendan. We weren't all built for fieldwork. Seriously, we're almost there, right?"

Yes, he's kind of tired because he isn't built for fieldwork (and Sheppard knew this perfectly well when he chose him for his team; and we have seen McKay try to learn how to work on the field). But he's also kidding, again trying to get close to Sheppard by pointing out that he has a special connection to the Major where Sheppard tries to keep a distance (emotionally, but he's also walking real close to Sheppard).

They happen across the planet's indigenous life, the shiny space bugs (and tell me Rodney's first instinct here isn't to grab Sheppard's arm), and have the following exchange:

McKay: Oh, what's that? Gaul: Is it a bug? Sheppard: A space bug. Abrams: It's giving off a pretty strong life-signs reading. McKay: OK, did I mention how allergic I was to bee stings? Sheppard: Maybe he smells the food. Gaul: Maybe he's just smelling the girlish fear.

Dude. Dude.

What Dr. Gaul says is not just offensive but a really stupid thing to say on an alien planet in a whole other galaxy. You have no idea what that thing is or what it's capable of. Dr. Gaul clearly never left the lab before. Not only is Rodney McKay braver than he could ever fathom, this man was just afraid of knowing the jumper was moving. Of motion.

Note also that where previously we have seen Sheppard exhibiting many classic signs of attraction, here we get one from McKay: wanting to share personal things, personal information. Over the seasons, we learn mostly through Sheppard bringing these factoids up that he has done this quite a lot. In Spoils of War (S04E12), we witness how Sheppard has both received and retained a lot of this kind of personal information about McKay (remembering details pertaining to someone? Also a sign of attraction), how he feels comfortable sharing what amount to rather embarrassing stories with the Major:

McKay: Don't worry, I've got an excellent sense of direction. Sheppard: Didn't you say you got lost in a garden maze once? McKay: I was ten. Plus, I was running from a bee.

This is really rather important, because this is juxtaposed to what takes place between McKay and Keller in Brain Storm (S05E16), when we are to understand that their relationship is starting to bud. McKay tells Keller: "When I was ten I ate a bowlful of strawberries and threw up. Haven't been able to stomach them since." We are explicitly shown that this is something he does when he is intending to bond with someone romantically. We've seen McKay overshare things about his childhood, as with Sam Carter in SG-1, with him literally telling us that he's doing it to bond with her. Only, he does this with Sheppard a lot. And unlike other characters, Sheppard not only remembers these things later but also returns to them, brings them up again and again to reinforce the bond between them.

It's really quite beautiful how here, Sheppard not only doesn't react to Dr. Gaul's words at all (which probably had the intended purpose of masculine bonding with the Major by picking on Rodney), but he actually soothes McKay's concern. Twice. First, he suggests that the bugs aren't out to get them but just smell the food, and then he uses a really gentle voice, smiles at Rodney and (seemingly punning) says "Well, let's leave it be(e) and it'll leave us be."

Not only is he not ridiculing McKay, he's showing that he's genuinely there for him, both against the space bugs and ignorant lab-rats who clearly don't realize what a hero Rodney really is for him (or what fear is. He knows what fear is).

(Also, returning to Hide and Seek, S01E03, where Sheppard himself calls fear unmanly; we later learn that that's his father talking; the part of his father he has internalized and that Rodney has actually unwittingly helped him combat from the start by showing him that fear and bravery aren't mutually exclusive).

Sheppard and McKay are a team. We see it later in the episode, but already here: they make each other stronger, and help each other overcome their weaknesses.

And Sheppard was never going to join in on mocking McKay.

In the jumper, it was he that actually sought out Rodney to mock Dr. Gaul and his unsuitability for fieldwork, reinforcing the bond between them. And I have to emphasize again how gentle he sounds here. He cares about Rodney and has no reason to pretend otherwise here because he neither cares nor values the opinion of these people. If anything, being able to stand strong for Rodney (for a change!) just makes him feel a sense of pride, being able to be useful to him brings him closer to Rodney.

Continued in Pt. 3

[krugkorien]

Happy New Year everyone! Today I want to show you my main setting: the Divine World. It’s a dark fantasy world that combines both epic (gods, monsters, magic, saving the world) and mundane (death, decay, bigotry, oppression) aspects of the genre. Worldbuilding and lore is a very important part of DW, to a point where if I could write everything I want about DW it would be one of the biggest books in the history of mankind. But this is an introductory post, so I’ll try to keep it brief!

1. While I’m not going to get into any unpleasant details here let’s still get some trigger warnings out of the way first. As I said DW is dark fantasy, and it’s so dark that Marena came up with the name Macabre Fantasy in order to emphasize how dark DW is and how the aforementioned themes of death and decay play a huge role in it, as well as many other sensitive topics. Aside from what has been already mentioned there's also a lot of cruelty & violence (both interpersonal & socio-political) and also topical problems: sexism, nazism, colonialism, etc. All of this, of course, is not for the sake of being edgy, but to make a lot of important points.

2. The inhabitants of the Divine World are appropriately called Divine Humans [1], aka Homo Mirandum. While they look a lot like regular humans, there are a lot of differences between us and them! They have horns, claws, different hair textures and skin tones, three spinal cords instead of one and are also bigger than us: it depends on a lot of factors and the shortest men are actually not that big, being only 166 cm tall, but the tallest women can go up to 350 cm! And yes, you’ve read it correctly, women are taller! Divine sexual dimorphism is somewhat flipped compared to ours and Divine women are tall, muscular and hairy, while men are short, thin and mostly hairless. Meanwhile their voices are pretty similar and androgynous, and also have a metal (as in material not music) vibe to them.

Physically Divine humans are, for the lack of better word, monumental: they are strong, capable of surviving wounds that would kill a regular human ten times over, have a great memory, but are also stiff and slow, both physically & mentally, for physiological reasons as well simply because they can afford to be — their lifespans can be measured in multiple Earth centuries. However Divine humans rarely enjoy their longevity to its full extent. Outside dangers aside, their illnesses and disabilities are just as monumental as they are. For example, Divine albinism means fully transparent flesh which in turn means complete blindness and high vulnerability towards radiation (levels of which are very high on Mirabilis).

Divine souls are just as physical as anything else. They are also Aetheric in nature, and are another example of Divine sexual dimorphism: white souls belong to men and black to women (with rare exceptions). This plays a huge role in Divine society and became one of the reasons why most Divine societies are patriarchal: men, despite being physically weak, can literally mind-control women when needed. It doesn’t help that too much contact with an aether opposite to your soul can lead to death.

While Divine humans are technically the only race of Mirabilis, thanks to magic they can turn into many various creatures: Demons, Angels, Chorts (lesser Demons, roughly speaking), Bieses (lesser Chorts), Beatas, Vampires, Turnskins (Divine equivalent of werewolves), Beasts, Chimeras, Nocturnals, Urials, Cadavredaxes and so on, many of them having sub-types (for example vampires being living and undead).

4. Technology & society-wise Divine civilization can be compared to 19th century Earth: imperialism and nationalism are at their peak, proto-industrial society, recently invented trains & electricity. However Divine civilization also possesses traits more associated with our Middle Ages: religion being the most important social institute, no concept of humanism, plate armor & melee weapons still being main tools of war.

5. Like Divine humans themselves Mirabilis looks somewhat Earth-ish but is actually very different. For starters, when I say that DW is a dark and oppressive world I mean it a bit literally! Mirabilis has high atmospheric pressure (~8 higher than Earth), it’s a much colder and wetter planet, and most noticeably — it has no sun. Despite this, Mirabilis still has light and heat, even if not as much as we do, all that thanks to the White Aether (a very important magic substance) that fills the space around the planet. A Sun’s fire isn’t the only kind Mirabilis lacks — due to the low oxygen level of 15% fire simply cannot exist in normal conditions on Mirabilis.

If the word “normal” can even be used towards Mirabilis — all of the planet’s flora are technically mushrooms and much closer to the meat-side of things, so stuff like bleeding human-eating trees isn’t exactly shocking to Divine humans. Animals are technically the same as on Earth but with a huge caveat — their appearance is based on the medieval depictions of them which means animals like hyperagressive fishes with limbs, talking horses with human teeth, owls with human faces, giant non-arthropodic insects and so on.

While Mirabilis is bigger than Earth, it has only one continent that is sliced in half by the so-called Black Wall —an  impassable wall of Black Aether. The stories I write take place on the western half of the continent, and its inhabitants can’t just cross the ocean to explore the East because of the atrament — a deadly substance that fills the sea and is so dangerous only two western races out of twelve have any level of resistance to it.

The explorers of Mirabilis would be very upset about this if not for the Remnants, mysterious ruins that are both more ancient than anything they have ever seen yet more advanced than anything they could dream of. Exploring Remnants is an incredibly dangerous, often illegal job, but what’s that compared to a chance to learn more about the world? More materialistic folks are attracted by the artifacts that are capable of granting incredible miracles and, of course, even more incredible horrors.

And I think that’s pretty much it for the introductory post! From now on I’m going to repost the stuff I’ve previously posted on my Twitter before but now with all kinds of lore tidbits. There’s other projects we’ll talk about, especially Neon-23, Marena’s cyberpunk setting (that has a crossover with DW we made for fun!) but that’s it for now. Thank you for reading all this! And thanks to @goldporces & ippoteq @ Twitter for beta-reading this text!

[1] — In Russian I call them Дивнолюди, based on an archaic Russian word for “miracle” — диво. “Divine” is a very lucky translation because it sounds similar to the original word and also points at the, well, divine nature of the Divine Humans.

[bluejay-writes]

MysticTober Day 13: Decipher This

Rating: T Prompt: Vanderwood/MC || Secret WordCount: 1263 Summary: The new member of the RFA seems familiar somehow. Author's Notes: This fic is either a massive troll or a Chapter 1, so... let me know if you want to see more of this one.

Of all the jobs that Vanderwood had done for the Agency over the years, they had to admit they were happiest being Zero Seven’s handler.  It wasn’t the most glamorous job, wasn’t necessarily using their best skills most of the time, but it also kept them decently out of danger, and afforded them the luxury of breaking rules they thought were garbage.

They hadn’t really thought too hard about the Agency’s rules about interpersonal relationships.  On the surface it made perfect sense that attachments were forbidden, given that if a job went bad you might have to completely erase yourself and start new somewhere else entirely leaving them behind. But it could also mean that they were used against you.  Of course, Vanderwood knew that the people most likely to use a partner against them were the Agency themselves, but it still stood as a good enough reason, until they started being Zero Seven’s handler.

Zero Seven was an enigma.  They’d started being his handler a little over eight years ago, when he was just a bright kid who would do just about anything the agency asked him to do.  Study abroad? Great!  Track down this person with the explicit explanation that it was for them to be take out? Done.  Over time, in private he had mellowed the way most of the agency techs had.  He did his work on his own schedule, and very rarely did he need to be reminded to get things done before the deadline. Usually he only got behind if it had something to do with that charity group he was for some unknown reason allowed to stay a part of even after joining the agency. Around them, he was still the jokester kid that he’d been when just twelve.  Vanderwood wished the melancholy hacker was the fake version of Zero Seven… but they knew better.

Vanderwood knew that if someone were disappeared for any reason, Zero Seven could find them, alive if possible, but he’d find proof of death if not. And so, the rules from the agency about attachments were revealed to be what they truly were - yet another way to keep a choke-hold on their agents. As long as the ties were sanctioned by the Agency (like that charity group) or kept secret from them, they were safe.

Most of the time, the only potential tie Vanderwood cared about was their charge.  They thought about Zero Seven like the younger brother they’d always wanted.  They knew no family before the agency, but… they liked to think they had a tiny one, now.  Zero Seven seemed to care about the charity group, and occasionally he’d wonder aloud (usually when he thought Vanderwood couldn’t hear him) about how ‘Saeran’ was doing.  So of course Vanderwood noticed when he received the improbable floppy disc of photos of a less-trained version of himself - clearly a twin brother - that Vanderwood understood.  Zero Seven had sacrificed his relationship with his twin in order to keep said twin safe and happy.  They’d taken a private look at the disc, and no matter how they looked at it, all of those photos were taken on the same day.  The boy was wearing contact lenses and his hair had recently been dyed. If it wasn’t for the fact that Zero Seven needed glasses, they might not have thought to look for the contacts - but they were colored. The boy in the photo had green eyes, and there were telltale marks from hair dye along his hairline and the tips of his ears.  How had Zero Seven missed this? Wishful thinking?

Something had happened to his twin, and Vanderwood was determined to find out what it was, even if they had to enlist help to do it.  Clearly the agency was complicit - the disk of photos had come from one of the charity group. They would have to look outside the agency for help.  They’d crossed paths with people from other agencies as well as independents, a number of whom could probably find out the information that they wanted to know. The best choice was the agent hiding in plain sight as an investigative journalist; Cypher Jones. If anyone could figure this out, it would be her.

Seven knew that Vanderwood was hiding something. Every agent had secrets, but lately they would come back agitated about something and an agitated Vanderwood never did bode well for his ability to slack off. Really any emotion out of Vanderwood was a bad sign.  So at least his work was getting done in a timely manner, since he didn’t want to be on the receiving end of Vanderwood’s ire.

On the bright side, they hadn’t gotten on his case about being in the RFA chat so much, so he’d been able to spend more time with his friends.  He really did think of them as friends, even though he wasn’t supposed to get attached to people as per the agency rules.  But if Vanderwood wasn’t complaining even after all these years, well, he was going to run with it.

But that led him to today, when he was out of work to get done and everyone was in chat, which was awesome, but Vanderwood came in tense.

“What is it, Vandy?”

“Don’t call me that. It’s just that I lost contact with someone.”

“I can—“

“No.”

“But if it’s someone important—”

“You can’t.”

“Ugh, fine.”

It wasn’t another agent. There was no way, or they would have used everything at their disposal agency-wise to keep track of them.  Which meant. Vanderwood was hiding a friend.  Seven wanted to tease them to death, but he couldn’t. He just couldn’t.  Having confirmation that Vanderwood was hiding an illicit relationship (be it romantic or platonic, it didn’t matter to Seven) was everything. But the fact that they’d lost contact took it off the table as a teasing subject. He’d just have to try to get Vanderwood to talk to him about it later.  For the time being they’d settled on the couch in his office, and were tapping away at their phone.  Seven went back to the RFA chat, only to realize there was someone new in it.  Someone unauthorized.

“Holy shit.” He said, pulling up the app code and tapping away to dig into the user database and figure out where they came from.

“What, Zero Seven?” Vanderwood asked from the couch, and Seven knew they were probably expecting his usual silliness.

“There’s someone new in the RFA Chat.”

“Huh.” Vanderwood said. “New recruit?”

“Well that’s just the thing. No. I think they hacked in.”

His fingers were flying over the keys, and he even told the chat that his fingers were trembling as he hacked.  Not true, but they were going fast enough that no one could tell if he was lying, excepting maybe Vanderwood, who saw everything.

Vanderwood had perked up behind him, watching his screens, which was eerie, but he was pretty used to it. 

“Huh, she’s in Rika’s old apartment.” Seven said, even as Vanderwood stood and came over to… well, he’d normally have said inspect his work, but it seemed like Vanderwood was just standing there for moral support. Weird, but not unwanted.

Seven clicked a few times and brought the camera feeds from Rika’s apartment up onto one of his side monitors. There, standing looking down at her cell phone with her long brown hair half-obscuring her confused expression, was a girl.

“What?!” Behind him, Vanderwood seemed to choke on nothing and their phone clattered to the floor. 

“What is Cypher doing there?”

[aita-irl]

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[fictionadventurer]

Ages ago, I talked about a portal fantasy idea I had, titled Lily Between Worlds. The premise was that a girl fell into a portal fantasy world, but didn't fall into any adventures. She just had to settle into ordinary life there and wait for a portal to open up to take her home. Except no portal ever showed up, and it's not likely one ever will. She's getting older, and the family she's staying with can't support her forever. So she has to consider settling down--namely, marriage. Which is a huge deal because starting an adult life here means she's giving up on any chance of going home. Plus trying to find someone to marry when you're literally from different worlds is difficult.

It never moved much beyond that initial premise, because I couldn't develop the world or the characters. But it's been coming to mind again, and I have some ideas for worldbuilding that would offer some more detailed plot possibilities, and I want to talk about it before I lose it completely.

The first breakthrough came with the idea that I could adapt an idea from my Lost Library universe as the basis of the worldbuilding. Centuries ago, some calamity caused large hunks of land to break off and float in the sky. This broke up societies and left the people on these landmasses isolated from each other for a long time, and they're only recently coming back into contact with each other. It's useful for Lily's story, because we can say the calamity that fractured their world also opened up fissures to other worlds, and some people here are aware that people sometimes fall through from our Earth.

The other key idea is that this world is dangerous. The calamity that broke the world also caused a population explosion of various chimera-ish beasts, many of which attack humans. Society is built around the fact that we need to be able to protect people from these beasts. Women and children need to be protected, because the monsters go after the weak. Men are expendable and need to defend women and children--but women also need battle skills because it's dumb not to know how to defend yourself. There is also a lot of competition over resources--I'm not sure what, but maybe one of them is the same energy that caused the fracturing and can be used to power technologies. Things have settled down in recent centuries and they've come to a level of civilization (I'm thinking Regency-ish) where you can have classes and trades not totally devoted to survival--but those survival skills are still highly valuable.

Lily is not adventurous. She's a very quiet artistic type who heard about all the dangers of this world and decided she was never going to step outside alone. She's spent the last few years in the household of a scholar who's fascinated with Earth. He's got a few kids several years younger than her, and she settled in among the children, focusing on learning the language and the basics of this world. But now she's come of age and has to enter the adult world. Even though she's been in this world for years, we still get the portal fantasy sense of discovery because she's learning all the details of the culture surrounding courtship and adult responsibilities. This is a domestic fantasy, focused on the interpersonal relationships and the culture of this specific place. No world-changing quests, just characters interacting. At most, a few monster attacks to liven things up.

The story would focus on Lily's attempt to find a husband. She works with a young matchmaker-in-training (who thinks she's from some distant floating island rather than another world) to find good candidates. It's tough because Lily has no family ties here and outsiders are suspect. She's got a lot of the feminine skills this society values, but has zero combat ability--a major handicap when a good wife has to be able to protect the children from monsters. This world values beauty, social status, and strength. Lily's got the first and needs a husband who can provide the other two (and is willing to overlook her lack).

We can use the suitors to explore different facets of this world and Lily's personality. A good partner needs to be similar enough that they can connect, but different enough to draw Lily out of her comfort zone; he needs to draw out her good qualities without reinforcing her flaws. She could interact with a lot of different men, but four types are coming to the forefront as potential husband material.

The scholar: A young man who works with the scholar who houses Lily. Fascinated by Earth, knows Lily's true history. He and Lily casually get along, but don't quite gel. (He treats her a bit like a science experiment, for one thing). He doesn't have much strength to protect Lily, but he's got a decent status (enough that his family would want him to marry better than Lily). He would be the safe choice, allowing Lily to more-or-less remain the same woman she is now.

The warrior: An ideal catch by this world's standards. Very high status, excellent combat ability. Already has several heroic achievements. Socially awkward enough to need the help of a matchmaker to attract a wife. He and Lily share almost no interests, but her dynamic with him would force her to confront her own prejudices about this world--just because he's a fighter, it doesn't mean he's brainless or has no feelings. Could really draw Lily outside her comfort zone, but maybe too much so.

The explorer: A man who has spent the last several years exploring far-flung floating isles and has only recently returned home--to a lot of rumors and distrust. He's got strength, but almost no status; he's scandalous to this neighborhood. Lily likes his travel stories, and he believes her tale of being from another world--he's seen portals before. They get along well enough, but he's as adventurous as Lily is cautious. He says he wants to settle down, but he's not the type to be happy with an ordinary life. A life with him would be either a life here under the cloud of scandal, or a life of dangerous travel. But he would draw out Lily's adventurous side and introduce her (and us) to more details of this world.

The artist: A man who's working on some project for a high-status person in the neighborhood. He and Lily connect most on a personal level, sharing a love of art. He's got a middling sort of status, and is a weakling. Perhaps he's disabled from some monster attack; it would explain why he'd been allowed to take up a sedentary (and frivolous) trade (though if that's the case and she *doesn't* choose him, it could look like we're reinforcing this society's idea that he doesn't deserve to marry). He would be sort of like the male version of Lily; they would connect very easily, but he wouldn't push her to grow.

At the moment, the explorer is most compelling as endgame, though I can see potential in the warrior and artist as well. The interactions with all four can shape her character. There'd also be subplots of other monster attacks and political/social conflicts happening in the background of this courtship.

I'd probably have to end the story with Lily and her chosen guy teaming up to defeat some kind of dangerous beast--showing that Lily has developed the courage to face this world's dangers and has found a partner capable of facing them with her.

If anyone's read all that--decent ideas, or too many holes? Interesting or the dullest thing you've ever heard? I'm treating this as a worldbuilding game for the moment, so you can play along if you like.

[commiegoth]

Fun writeup on the goth subculture of the 1990s from FringeWare Review #6(66), published in 1995

Full text under cut

Subcultbabble 101: Magdalen on Things Gothic

So who ’zactly are these legendary Goth creatures? As with any subculture, it’s hard to pin ’em down. Let’s start with an image nearly all our dear readers will have seen at some point: kids with flowing black clothes, white faces, and lots of black eyeliner. You have perhaps wondered WTF is up with them, and with people who try to look like vampyres, and pouty twentysomethings in black T-shirts who seem too pointedly haughty to be generic Gen-Xers, and gorgeous fetish babes who sorta look like they’re dressed for the grave rather than for the dungeon.

Writers like yers truly just fuck it all up when they try to explicate subcultures, but somebody’s gotta do it. My own experiences have brought me in contact with the so-called goth scene intermittently over the last decade, though I should warn you that mine is a fundamentally West Coast point of view. YMMV. Like many others who end up returning to goth clubs and music every few years, I seem to have a fixation with Death which finds itself soothed and fulfilled by Things Gothic. Despite my propensity for slovenly attire and no-bullshit communication, I’m also addicted to the sense of ritual and aesthetic which differentiate the goths from most other American cultures.

I Wear Black On The Outside… ’cos black is how i feel on the inside

The two most prominent subcultures I’ve run into are punk and the hippie trip. In them, participants usually adhere to a loose cluster of aesthetic parameters, but everyone involved pretends that exteriors mean little to them. (Let’s bypass the hypocrisy involved, when they like the rest of society typically wear certain signifiers to identify themselves with the group.) Hardcore punks and hippies don’ t necessarily bathe very often, or wear makeup. Punk and its bastardized commercial offspring, the media-titled Grunge movement, aspire to externalize their rejection of conventional society by substituting fucked up, comfortable clothing for the clean, rigid, and perky duds yer stuck-in-the-fifties parents always wanted you to wear. The aesthetic relies upon potentially-violent sloppiness (or a carefully-reconstructed pretense thereof) and the attitude that you honestly don’t give a fuck what people think of you. Mortified though many latter-day punks might be to think of it, a similar motivation lay behind the original hippie anti-aesthetic, where organic materials and shapes sought to externalize the flowing qualities of nature where Cold War man had instituted three-piece suits and all they represented. Pardon the irony, but both mohawks and stringy long hair try to signify the rejection of a shallow society intent on keeping up with the Joneses and little else.

The goths fled in the opposite direction: past conventional fashion, whose crime isn’t its rigidity but its sheer dullness and tendency to follow embarrassing trends, and onward to a hyperstylised self-presentation reminiscent of the Courts of centuries past. Goths are renowned for their vanity and apparent shallowness; I believe the goth aesthetic is actually quite honest, embracing the notion that externalizations such as clothing and gesture form an intricate interpersonal art form, a dance of communication. It’s refreshing compared to the equally intricate games played by those who present a studiedly “casual” facade, hoping their Gap shirts will help them blend in with the wallpaper. Practitioners of theatre understand very well the subconscious semiotic games being played in the guise of supposedly “normal”, casual conversation: how the body moves, what it is draped in, the choice of words, tone of voice or the flick of an eyelash can determine the outcome. In the theatre, these external elements are mastered to create ritual and entertainment.

Walk into a goth club, and you see this same cunning, playful manipulation of details taken from the stage and thrown into what might be a costume ball. Black is everywhere: hair, clothing, eyes, lips. Perfectly blood-crimson lips and hair extensions materialize next, along with deep purple dresses and tresses. Proper white collared shirts glow in the dim light, while the occasional off-white Victorian wedding-gown or ivory ’30s dress will float by as well. The goths, who go out of their way to be a sensual set, get off on the tactile beauty of their gear as much as its visual effect: velvets, satins, leathers, brocades, sheers, laces (though lace has fallen by the wayside since the ’80s) — anything lush and sumptuous. For a group of people rumoured to be exceptionally dictatorial in their tastes, they can be most creative and eclectic. Cheesy classic deathrock bits like torn fishnet sleeves, and Robert Smith hairdos straight out of the early ’80s, nuzzle up against the hippest new fetish gear. Goths manage to dig up gorgeous period pieces, mostly evocative of the ’20s or of Victorian fashion, and many can even wear the things properly, playing the appropriate body language to the hilt.

You should be able to kick around a few Byron quotes here and there, and recount Shelley's death with heartfelt accuracy (didn't he like die on a boat or something?)

As you nervously approach the crowded bar for a dollar-drink special, you’ll notice some other things. Makeup ranging from pale to deathly white on many faces, both male and female, accompanied by exotically-applied eyeliner and severe lipstick. Lots of curious if pretentious objects: fluttering fans, scarves, silver cigarette cases, lunchbox handbags, crucifixes, hats, and miles of silver jewelry. A man bending at the waist to kiss a woman's hand. Angelic, dour boys in long skirts and pointy boots. Expansive, melodramatic dancers flailing and swirling, refusing to acknowledge each other even when they collide. Impeccably-dressed, attractive women sitting all alone yet not being harassed. Frankly, you may find them all ridiculously snotty poseurs, what with their wannabe-regal airs and seemingly unbreakable attitudes. Stay long enough, though, and the drugs and alcohol will kick in thoroughly, revealing kids with fake IDs and eyeliner drooling drunkenly down their cheeks, stoned speedfreaks giggling, drunk speedfreaks dancing and fighting, bedraggled gentlemen hiking up their skirts to take down the lights. Though it may appear otherwise, people have dressed up and come out to have a good time, and to do so in the most decadent of ways.

If you asked them, the majority of these people would not admit to being goths. Most of those who would are the sort of irritating obsessives you find in any cultural group, like the self-proclaimed hippie that buys every new Dead shirt as soon as it hits the market or the poet who wears a beret and turtleneck. These are the folks who desperately needed an identity to cling to, a pre-existing aesthetic to buy and adopt rather than create; they’re invariably the people who uphold and propagate the codes and cliches of a subculture. So what’s the stereotypical goth of this sort like? Where hippies have hyper-friendliness and Luv, these goths have a comical level of snobbery, cattiness, and a calculated air of impenetrable mystery. Where punks often pretend to be less cultured and articulate than they are, yer local cliche-goth will likely present hirself as well-read and emotionally intellectual, with a vocabulary of words and gestures gleaned from faerie tales, Victorian literature, and heroic ballads. The correct political stance is apolitical, and while the proper drags change over the years and according to geography, speed’s the classic drug of choice. The face will be pale and powdered, the eyebrows painted in black points which shadow the inner eyelids in an immaculate line; the clothing will most definitely come in black.

As The Millennium Turns: the emergence of a NeoGoth scene

What’s interesting about this culture isn’t the surprisingly small group of people who wear full costuming and whiteface 24/7, but the way that its recent resurrection integrate a variety of musical and aesthetic tastes. Odd as it may sound, my theory is that the increased popularity of Things Gothic owes much to the Rave trend at the turn of the decade. As, that pushed repetitive techno music into regular discos and radio formats, people started delving into darker technology-driven music such techno-industrialists Skinny Puppy. Much to chagrin of oldschool industrial types, a new “industrial” movement started gaining momentum, showcasing Ministry’s industrial deathmetal crossover and the Top 40 success of Nine Inch Nails. The explosion of general indie and "alternative" music as a popular phenomenon helped out, too: all these newly-mainstreamed bands had common influences from the days when frat boys would beat you up for having a leather jacket and funny hair, instead of jumpin' into the pit with ya at a Dickies show (Dude!).

People new to these genres of music and the subcultures they spawned started digging up those influences and giving 'em a spin, and pretty soon there was a fresh crop o' youngsters gazing at Blixa's made-up face on old Einsturzende Neubauten videotapes, discovering Bauhaus for the first time, finding Al Jourgenson's cheesy '80s dance tunes, and praying that the entire 4AD catalogue might be released domestically on compact disc. Some small group of goth types had endured through the '80s in most large cities and hipster towns, and found their ranks swelling as the population at large gained exposure to music and fashion previously confined to the underground and to independent music labels. For several years now, the goth capital cities (London, New York, San Francisco) have boomed with golf clubs, local bands, and 'zines. The resounding success of House of Usher, the East (SF) Bay club the proved you really could rejuvenate this tired old scene enough to make serious money off it, owed much to its owners' creation of two separate dancefloors in a single club: one industrial, one gothic.

But wait, there’s more! In addition to marrying the black-leather-wearing New Industrial scene to the extant retro-gothic scene, the neo-goth resurgence has cross-pollinated nicely with the fetish scene, the cyberpunks (yes, I hate that word as much as you do) the exponential growth of the Internet, the underground comic and ’zine network, and a rising interest in the arts of self-decoration (piercing, tattoos, etc.). As always, other marginal groups with proclivities for theatricality — SCA members, RPG fanatics, | drama geeks, Renaissance Faire guildmembers, wiccans, and the terminally suicidal — are still attracted to the goth set. It all makes for quite the tasty brew once it has fermented long enough.

Weeping, Wailing, and the Gnashing of Teeth

Music acts as the cornerstone of most popcults, and can’t possibly be treated thoroughly in this space. If you’re into the idea, get ahold of the fanzines listed under SOURCES. Suffice to say the music wafting out of gothish clubs ranges from historical deathrock (Bauhaus, Siouxsie and the Banshees, Joy Division) to second-wave gothic (Fields of the Nephilim, Christian Death, Sisters of Mercy) to new indie-goth hybrids. Some of the most distinctive music associated with Things Gothic can only be described as mood music, whether it’s ethereal, ominous, or sparse. Dead Can Dance and Cocteau Twins have popularized the ethereal sound, usually featuring lush arrangements, swooning female vocals, and often incorporating elements of Irish folk, medieval, classical, and middle eastern music. From the cruncher sounds of My Bloody Valentine and lovesliescrushing, and the symphonic chaos of Cranes or the recent Miranda Sex Garden releases, a whole new generation of post-ethereal bands continues to evolve.

Ominous mood music ranges from the Wagneresque horror of In Slaughter Natives to the soundscapes of Caul; again, subcultural crossbreeding has birthed a wide range of techno-industrial-cybergothic soundtracks. On the sparse end of the scale, the Death In June/Current 93/Sol Invictus formula combines morbid lyrics, hypnotic acoustic guitars, and experimental sounds: for a heightened experience, be sure to keep razorblades poised at your wrists while listening. And you’re bound to find old farts who still keep some guilty pleasures around — ’80s English popsters like early Cure, Smiths, and Tears for Fears, the deathpunk of 45 Grave and pre-glam TSOL, or the moody disco of New Order and Tones On Tail.

Face it, kids, you live in a society whose obsession with Death is matched only by its insistence that one continually maintain a mask of cheerfulness or neutrality. Colonial-style religion, which used to provide a ritual release for feelings of fear and deah has largely been exposed as a patriarchal scam. You will watch Cops, you will run to see Natural Born Killers, but you will still toddle into work and smile after your best friend commits suicide. The hippies tried to make you too uniformly joyful and mellow; your foray into punk let out some anger but did nothing for the lingering melancholia. The poets gave you deep verbiage but they didn’t know how to dress, and the sullen slackers sneered at anything remotely dramatic. And while the Protestant preacher gave you lots of Death, and Mass gave you ritual satisfaction to breathe in like incense, they expected you to believe in GM, fer Chrissakes!

I can’t stomach being around it too much, but sometimes it’s a relief to sip Chartreuse with an entire room full of people who’ve given up and welcomed death. A good goth club or party feels like a Christian funeral smashing into a raucous wake: some are there to mourn, others to celebrate the dead with wine, song, and incoherent rambling. No one is going to stare at the scars on your wrists in such an environment, nor try to stop you from driving 120mph on the bridge after you’ve snorted up a quarter and chased it with a litre of bad red wine. No one’s gonna care whether your sour, aching mood arises out of severe pain or out of the need to make an impression. Nor does it matter whether you've actually punctured human flesh with those ridiculous fangs you had custom-made.

The house, club, or cemetery you’re partying in is likely decked out in Things Gothic. Among all the dead flowers, skulls, and candles, who’s gonna look askance at the crucifix around your neck? The props of Death attract people for different reasons. Some have a heartfelt reaction to religious iconography, often rooted in childhood experiences with the church; others are attracted to the mystery of the post-corporeal life represented in objects which evoke thoughts of mortality. Some just want a solid talisman to grasp while they mourn life itself, while many are drawn to the classical aesthetic often employed in rendering icons. And there will always be those who don’t really care to think about art, Death, or afterlives, but who want to look cool. Regardless of the motive, people who want to play with the props of Death aren’t given much of an opportunity to do so in conventional society.

Except in religious subcultures, of course. Is the goth scene religious? While a fair percentage of its members are ex-Christians or current pagans, goth has nothing to do with religion. The closest thing to a Deity it offers would have to be Peter Murphy or Andrew Eldritch — mere mortals who happen to be the subject of much fawning, rather like Elvis. Laughing at the corniness of Deathprops and quasi-religious elements is probably more common than revering them. Goth appropriates from religion, using its imagery in decadent stylization. It has no interest in either approximating religion or fostering it.

Deadly, theatrical, and a bit over-the-top, Things Gothic definitely hold a selective appeal. I for one will be thoroughly amazed if the goth subculture ever gets adopted by the mainstream, but then again in 8th grade I wouldn't have imagined punk ever crossing over. Times change, and if folks stop dismissing the goths as absurdly pretentious we just may see Rozz on the cover of Rolling Stone in a couple of years. Stranger things have happened.

[spontaneousglitterbees]

What's a scene you'd like to work on for TAPPS, but in reality (even with a working laptop and a non-fucked shoulder) would take too much time and buildup to make work. Like, the daydream scenario?

[Talent Acquisition Pilot Program AU Masterpost]

Hmm. Fic time.

This Heart of Mine is Guilty (Not Remorseful)

---------------------

Gonta Gokuhara is not stupid.

A fool, as much as anyone willing to whittle themselves away into something ‘more palatable’ can be called one, but not stupid. His insistence to the contrary only chips at your respect for him. He is a liar, and you cannot stand liars.

Case and point: the raucous lack of resistance from your classmates. Even the most sickeningly-sweet of your mutual acquaintances find themselves “too polite” to lend their appraisals a voice; it isn’t just a lie, it is a spineless lie of omission, and it is contagious. Gonta entwines himself in a positive feedback loop of self-deprecation, and if they did not notice, it would be unfortunate, but within reason. Instead, they praise themselves for their abilities to ignore it. As though it makes them ‘good people’ to let someone else say the quiet part loud.

Disgusting.

Gonta was not an idiot. It was simultaneously true that he was not an idiot and you were a liar, so it stood to reason that if you enthusiastically indulged his self-destructive words (you were certain that was all they were, back then, and you were not a font of pity) somebody ought to connect the dots sooner or later.

The Ultimate Maid seemed promising at first. Her talent, people-pleasing taken to a logical extreme, should have given her a level of interpersonal insight few achieve. Rather than spiking that serve into becoming the Ultimate Fly-on-the-Wall, Kirumi let it consume her. The face chosen for her— "selfless devotion", down to the very core— hollowed out the rest of her. (You do not know how much, if any, of that was her ‘choice’. How much of it she literally, logistically could have resisted if she’d ‘only tried hard enough’. You do not like that thought. Thoughts you do not like are one of the few things you can still outrun.) She was willing to do anything for anyone, weighing pros and cons to do the greatest good for the most people with the information at her disposal.

The “selfless” one appointed herself judge, jury, and executioner on behalf of people she couldn’t prove existed. It was never out of the question that Monokuma was lying, either at any point or every point thus far; the world outside could have been (was) fine. The looming threat to the country’s people without leadership could have been a complete farce (it was) but she decided anyway. Even on the off chance it was completely fabricated (good odds, in your book, even back then) the then-twelve of you were expendable. Killing you all, in her mind, was justified.

And you thought she was reasonable.

(You can’t reconcile the Kirumi in your head with the Kirumi in your post-trial nightmares with the girl who also stays sitting while the rest of the class does warm-ups, catching your eye as you idly glance about the room, gently nodding in some silent sort of solidarity before you break eye-contact and ponder how you might have even gotten here, that girl, who also calls herself ‘Kirumi.’)

“Selflessness” is a lie. All altruism is, on some base level, self-aggrandizing shielding itself with other people. Kirumi couldn’t have cared that deeply for an indistinct swathe of people she never could have known, or even known of, hand-over-fist clinging to the vines skewering the nerves just under her palms. She wanted out. She wanted out, wanted so badly to indulge in a single, cruel ray of sunlight, and she wanted more than anyone else, clearly. She’d earned it. The rest of you hadn’t. The rest of you, as far as she was concerned, could die in that place, as long as she could have another moment of—

“Selflessness” was Kirumi’s lie. She did not deign the dignity to believe it.

And you hate liars.

(You hate yourself, so, so much for bowing to self-preservation. “To end the killing game,” you’d said, and believed. It was for the “greater good”. Can’t be a hypocrite if you commit to your convictions, so why do you still feel—)

But. That’s a lie.

You do it all the time. Easier than breathing, really, falsehoods sprinkled in for spice (‘...and that’s why I can’t set foot in 20 yards of a swimming pool, but only in three cities.’; ‘Oh, I beat it on the first try! It’s totally simple, just don’t get hit.’; ‘10,000 members, Momota, and you’re gonna have to manage them all when I’m gone!’) or by compulsion (‘Actually, if you factor in the time period, yellow roses are a death threat. You’re thinking of the blue ones they picked to extinction!’; ‘Yeah, I know a guy who owns a junkyard, could scrap you real good. How dare you think I’d leave DICE vulnerable to the Robot Uprising, you’re so mean!’; ‘Ooh, the anticipation’s the best part, I’m sure there’ll be a body announcement any minute!’). You will lie, even without a soul to hear you (‘this is good. This is fun. I am having fun.’) and make certain the world knows precisely when you are lying. You will lie about nearly anything, save for the act of lying itself.

Eventually.

Sometimes, your lies are carefully calibrated.

"The more that you suffer, the more I enjoy it."

The subtle differences are woven into you, logical patterns encrypted so many times over even Kii-boy couldn’t reverse-engineer them consistently. (You'd hoped he might have been 'weird' enough to try. Sometimes your projection disappointment leaks through your facetious tone toward the worthless robot, like bloodstains seeping through the tight-bound fabric of a pristine white jacket—)

It all makes sense. It always has, to you. You cultivate this mysterious air around yourself gauged only on the reactions of other people, because it all tracks for you. Whatever is confusing them is a blind spot, and one you have learned (been programmed?) to deftly navigate.

Then there was him.

The fool, Gonta Gokuhara, was a liar. His stilted turns of phrase, infectious smile, bright eyes and penchant for staying gentle and patient with even the shortest-lived scum of the earth... it was a lie. It had to be a lie. You knew he was a liar, because, in over-excitable conversation amid the Others, you saw something familiar in his eyes. Gonta had to buffer for a moment and process the words around him before he'd react.

Just like you.

You had to keep an eye on him.

The facade he'd constructed was too kind, too manicured to be half as spotless as it purported to be. You had claimed him as your henchman under the guise of his utter gullibility, just to see what he would do. How he would manage to weasel his way out of your grasp and continue on with... whatever he was scheming. Nobody scrutinizes the sweet spice of cinnamon. Maybe he wasn't Mastermind material, but he was hiding something. You would find a way to force him to give you information. The how. The why, why-why-why Gonta had to be so damn likable to everyone he met, and how it just kept WORKING for him.

He called your bluff. He agreed. So you'd guessed you had a henchman.

Gonta never looked at you with the same inherent unease of your classmates, and never insisted he look you in the eye. All the better, as far as you’re concerned, eyes are the windows to the soul after all (and it gave you a brief reprieve from That Skin-Crawling Sensation, the two of you often either comfortably looking past one another or along the ground for some variety of insect you never could find.) The more you practiced obscuring your tells, the better a position you would place yourself in to lie strategically. The total lack of feedback from Gonta, a man apparently dead-set on taking you at your word no matter what, was counterbalanced by the lack of pressure around him. You knew at the time that the moment you let your guard down, the trap would snap and your neck could with it. It was a tempting facade, even so, master-manipulator Gokuhara so engrossed in his act with conviction Kirumi lacked, it was hard to remind yourself to keep him at arm's length.

After all, it's just the way of things. He's big, you're small, and the second you'd let down your defense would be the second you'd be stabbed in the back.

(It's true. It must be true! It has to be true, and you cannot forget it, because if you do not believe this is the truth then you leave yourself open for betrayal, and you cannot handle that from someone you started to think of as—)

You would augment the cognitive dissonance by saying something vile, snapping everyone to attention including him, and revel in slotting back into your proper place as the heel in this story. (But how much of that is really on your accord, and does it actually matter if the outcome is the same?)

You stayed close by one another when the class came together. It had the desirable effect of making the Others question your motives, certainly, making your station as Supreme Leader of Evil that much more obvious, but you'd be lying if you said it was purely for the tactical advantage. Not at this point. You stood by him because you could tell he understood. Getting too close to other people sets off magnets under your skin that gently nudge you in the opposite direction; you used to rock idly on your feet before you realized it was better to have a cause like boredom to blame. Keeping contact pupil-to-pupil can be an interrogation, and they'll have better luck cramming toothpicks under your fingernails than boring straight through your eye sockets with theirs. From the moment you met him, Gonta said nothing about your chronic inability to look at who you're talking to (or your penchant for approximating a look close enough next to them to subdue suspicion, because you cannot get through even small talk without at least an un-truth). You thought it may be a total lack of observational skills, but then he went and noticed the way you flinched accepting his "gentlemanly handshake".

It's a bizarre thing, bonding with an imperfect stranger over the course of a quarter of a conversation. You could sit at the lunch table without worrying about elbows toppling over an uncapped half-bottle of Panta, or stand in the library wanting to reach out but waiting for the crowd to disperse knowing nobody is going to trample you, and he brushes his hair out of his face while you curl your fingers into the smooth layers of your scarf and nobody says anything, and it's great.

Said, anything.

Then you killed him.

Hmm.

Gonta may have been a liar, but he doesn't have the heart for DICE, either. You liked that about him. He contorts himself to slot in to a puzzle he was not made for, shaving down slivers of cardboard with a pocketknife and worrying about completing the picture later, but he at least bothers with a base coat of paint. His mask is skin-tight; it's obvious he is not Other.

Somehow (infuriatingly) he turns that into an advantage.

He was strong, he was tall, things that can't be helped; he was cloyingly sweet to counterbalance the assumptions his stature set for him. Gonta created his persona the same way you did, but his conviction in the construct, in that lie, did not waver.

You wished you could be like that, too.

Gonta was his lie, as far as anyone else was concerned. Fully masked in an ecological niche much more interesting than the ones his precious bugs ever occupied, inherently self-debasing (to deal with the lowest form of creature willingly), pre-emptively humble (to deal with the guy nobody likes willingly) and praised all the more for it. Non-threatening, on purpose. Controlled. He has the capacity to do harm and hides it, so is that not itself a kind of lie?

You waited for the other shoe to drop.

But.

How was he not sick of you, everyone gets sick of you, YOU are sick of you–

Even as you saw the lively light drain from his digitized eyes, viscerally horrified by the flashes of atrocity you'd just shown him, he remained steadfast. Upset, clearly, but resolute. He chose to help you. He wanted to help all of you.

You suppose Gonta was the closest to “real” of all of you.

-------------------------------------

Kokichi scoffs, his back to the freshly-decorated interior of Class 79's homeroom. Simply surviving for a couple months as a class hardly seems like reason to celebrate, as far as he’s concerned, but the weather already vetoed “let us have class outside” and their homeroom teacher has no interest in fielding a riot. He lightly pulls on the sleeve of a borrowed jacket, noting the way woven fabric feels over his fingertips.

"I don't know what you're doing, but I am gonna get out of dodge. This is a Category Four shitstorm waiting to happen." He half-shrugs, not even passing a glance toward the gentle giant holding out his hand.

"G– Sorry. I'm sorry, Kokichi, I know you hate–"

"No." The boy smiles, lips drawn tight in contempt. "No, actually, that's not how this goes.” He taps his index finger to his chin, in faux-thought. “I mean, yeah, it's how this was always gonna go, but I'm pretty sick of scripts! You should be too."

Gonta looks over Kokichi for a moment. The small smattering of classmates in the room with the two of them look twice as confused as Gokuhara himself. He adjusts his glasses. "I'm sure I don't know what you mean," he says with practiced ease despite the tension in his throat.

It seems Ouma had expected him to back down by now. He smiles just as wide, but. Softer. Impressed?

"Aww, that's no fair! Can you believe it, a whole execution and Monokuma didn't even have the decency to knock some sense into you! I'll file a complaint for'ya," his expression hardens. (Pouring into a mold, too malleable to stand on its own.) He takes a step forward, then another. Favoring his left side, today.

There's a muffled 'you little menace, you can't talk to Gonta that way,' but glares from the other three bystanders in the room quickly convince her to save it. It's not that what he's saying is okay by any stretch; it's that Kokichi has completely avoided even looking at Gonta for a solid month, and there are few forces stronger than morbid curiosity.

Gonta takes back his hand, silent on the matter. Disappointed. But a true gentleman does not let petty emotion impede his work, particularly when his cohort is counting on him. Still, he watches Kokichi go.

Go on.

Go.

Kokichi... hesitates?

"You comin' or not?"

Of course, Gonta catches up within a couple strides. Ouma lacks the spoons to distract from the way his eye twitches.

"Hey, Dipshitticus, where the hell do you think you're going? Party starts in ten minutes," bellows Miu, not looking up from the pile of gears and fittings on her desk.

"Please, I got free reign of this place, ya' stupid whore~!" he chirps, though the venom has long since drained from those words. "I'll kidnap who I want. Call it 'talent development', if you gotta. Besides, I finally figured out why girls always go to the bathroom in groups! I mean, someone’s gotta call Tsumiki-chan in case you pass out and bang your head on the way down, right?"

Click. Pop, goes the foot of his cane, rubber peeling from tile pronounced in the stunned silence of the room. He turns the corner.

Gonta elects to follow.

The pair of them walk down the emptying hall for a good half-minute as the remaining students settle in their own classrooms, stopping at a set of chairs in the hallway. It’s a bright “study space”, a corner lit by incandescent yellow light with gaudy chartreuse couches a little too stiff to qualify as proper furniture that nonetheless provide an oasis when you’ve been walking long enough. Gonta nearly trips on the coffee table in the center, too low to write on and just low enough to hit below the kneecap.

This little corner of Hope’s Peak is surrounded by long windows overlooking little other than sidewalk. The sun-catching ornaments hanging from the ceiling are depressed by the dark blue-grays of the overcast sunrise. The heavy, hazy feeling to the air glazes over the glass; the insects outside are surely taking shelter.

Gonta takes a seat, twiddling his thumbs.

“Gon— I. You were bluffing.” Gonta shakes his head, looking nervously over his shoulder. Properly. Knees together, sitting up straight, arm kept loose at his side in case Kokichi needs to lean on him. Adamantly, the boy does not. In fact, Kokichi sits across from Gonta with his feet up on the table, ankles crossed. The position will become incredibly uncomfortable in a few minutes, but it’s about looking nonchalant, not being.

“You aren’t gonna get in trouble, you’re with me. Not a lie. They kinda owe me big time,” Kokichi shrugs. “Even Ishimaru-chan knows better than to call me out at this point. I hope he swings by, the look on his face knowing he can’t turn me in is amazing.”

“It would be terribly inappropriate to get in trouble, G— I don’t want to mess up my permanent record if I don’t need to, but it’d still be worth it to help a friend! A gentleman puts his friends first,” Gonta nods, sounding more certain of this than Kokichi has ever been about anything. “Besides, Taka is Gonta’s friend! Gonta is sure if he were to explain Kokichi has a good reason to be out of place, there would be no problem.”

A ha-second later, Gonta cringes, softly berating himself under his breath.

“You don’t have to correct it every time, you know. If it’s part of whoever you are now, everybody else can deal.”

“, , Gonta… isn’t sure how to feel about it. Knowing he’s the only one talking in third-person this way make. Makes, it seem. Like he’s not trying enough to be normal? But he’s too used to it to stop without thinking about it,” Gonta sighs.

“Nah. Just another TAPP side-effect. Well. At least that's the story I'd stick to. Dunno what you think a Gentleman does, but considering you aren’t currently an aristocratic asshole lounging in his ivory tower I’d say it’s good that you’re wrong.”

It takes Gonta a moment to take that one apart and put it back together. (Kokichi, seeing so, takes a second to stare blankly ahead and do the same. He will deny it.)

“G-Gonta is wrong about being a gentleman? How so! Gonta’s classmates haven’t told him he wasn’t following the rules correctly.”

Kokichi shakes his head.

“You’re not missing anything, really. That's no lie. You know Togami-chan? The short, pouty one.”

“Gonta thought the twins were the same height… ?”

“Not the point. The one with a stick up his ass, that’s what some people think of when they hear ‘gentleman’, so you’re actually ahead of the curve, believe it or not.” Kokichi picks at his nailpolish. Then at the shredded cuticles beneath.

Gonta considers this for a moment, looking the Lying Liar Who Lies up and down. He searches through his pocket, for a moment.

Kokichi is intrigued. He sits up, elbows on his knees. “Ooh, what’cha doin’?”

Gonta comes up with a crumpled bandage or two and a small thing of vapor rub. He puts the latter away; bug bites don’t seem to be the issue, here.

“Alright, then. Keep your secrets,” Kokichi rolls his eyes, Annoyed (peeking over to Gonta with a more neutral expression awaiting his response. Nothing.)

“Kokichi is bleeding,” Gonta says, eyes wide with concern. He holds out the bandages. “Please take some care of it?”

Kokichi looks baffled for a moment, eyes flicking down to his fingers. Huh. Oh yeah….

He takes the bandages, not looking away from Gonta’s expression the entire time he dresses the small wounds with bumblebee-stripes and monarch wings.

Gonta lets his broad shoulders relax. Kokichi finds his own do too, though he hadn’t noticed he'd been tense in the first place.

“Thanks,” Ouma mutters into the galaxy-print lining of his sleeve.

“Thank you for letting Gonta know he's not too stuck-up to talk to,” Gonta half-laughs.

Silence.

“… he does wish that Kokichi could say something nice without needing to say something mean about someone else,” Gonta offers softly with his head down. He winces with anticipation.

Kokichi merely blinks.

“Yeah, well. Well. I thought you people didn’t like lies to spare your feelings, I’m getting major mixed signals!” he shrugs into the jacket.

"That okay. Gonta. Gonta get signals mixed up too, all the time," the boy smiles, much too meek for his stature. It looks as though it could shatter at the lightest touch.

Ouma tilts his head, eyeing it with a sledgehammer.

"... You wanna know the truth?"

Gonta nods. It's a rare opportunity, isn't it?

"I thought you knew."

Kokichi mumbles the inane little phrase, and his chest heaves like he's pushed a boulder off of himself.

He knows in his heart Gonta will look at him confused if he lifts his head from this spot, still staring at the gaudy nineties-office carpet between them. He knows he will not be able to handle it.

Gonta, however, merely nods again.

"Gonta should have known. If Gonta were smart, he would have known. He would have tried harder to save everyone, instead of. Let Monokuma make him 'leave.'"

"Stop that."

Kokichi's ragged nails dig into the armrest beside him. He is seething, but does not raise his voice.

"Gonta sorry–"

"You, do not apologize, to me."

Gonta nods, nods, biting his lip to hide how it quivers, pulling at the ends of long locks of hair.

Violet eyes ignite.

"You just won't get it, will you? Oh, you can, you just don't want to. You should be angry at me. I treated you like shit, and it was not okay! You keep blaming yourself, but how the hell were you supposed to know what would happen?" he throws his hands in front of him, the thoughts flooding out into the empty space. "They didn't even let you remember computers! They actively took that when they re-made you, that cannot be on you, it’s just playing dirty!”

“There’s lots other people know that Gonta does not, though…,” Gonta hiccups, struggling to keep composure.

“None of us knew what swapping the cords would do. Miu fixed the damn thing, and she didn’t know. You didn��t say to yourself ‘hmm, I think I’ll wipe my own memory of the past few hours for funsies and make life harder on myself’n everybody because I can,’ so why should you apologize for it?”

“… B-Because it still happened. It was Gonta’s fault!”

Kokichi pinches the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes shut. (Jeez, you suck at this whole “reassurance” thing. Some leader you’ll make.)

“Okay. You know what, okay, let’s say– just humor me here– that it was your fault, even though it wasn’t on purpose. Why the hell would anyone be mad about it?”

“Because Gonta couldn’t. Couldn’t, either defend himself or, o-r turn himself in, whichever helps classmates!” Gonta croaks out, shaking his head.

(You were going to mercy-kill them all. That’s what your Alter Ego said. You would save them from the killing game by getting it over with. You were the person who proposed that. Just thinking about it now has you sick to your stomach, wracked with grief over a crime gone un-committed, but you have the blessing of hindsight. In the moment, you know you would have done it. You would have, had you not forgotten everything coming out of the simulation, and as much as you want to deny it, pretending you never could have done something so vile is insulting. You can’t insult your friends that way. You only wanted to help. Your heart aches on.

Or maybe that’s old wounds acting up again. They feel nearly the same.)

Kokichi looks at a shell-shocked Gonta and sighs. It would be all too easy to pull one over on him now, to claim this was the reaction he wanted and walk away, to convince Gonta to stay away from him lest he get himself hurt.

But something inside him refuses. A feeling he first can recall feeling on the cold metal slab of the press, not. Remorse, but guilt. He cannot say he regrets letting Gonta take the fall if it got them closer to ending the killing game for good. That does not mean he wanted this.

Kokichi offers Gonta his checkerboard scarf to dry his tears. Wordless. He looks away, but hesitates to stand.

“… Kokichi–?” Gonta stammers, counting how long to hold his breath in little intervals. It tends to help with getting his emotions back in check.

“Call it forgiven,” Kokichi sighs. “Miu has already. You should know that. You talk to her enough. The rest of the class has too, ask any one of them. The only one who hasn’t is you.”

Gonta gently wraps the scarf around balled-up fists, running the smooth texture over rough calluses. Kokichi says nothing of it.

“Gonta killed Miu, and didn’t follow through on helping. Gonta hurt Miu for no reason.”

“You kept her from killing me,” Kokichi leans back, pulling his arms through the sleeves and covering himself in the jacket like it’s a cape. “Can you call that nothing?”

“You died anyway!”

“So did most people. Miu probably would have too, if it hadn’t been to you. And look around. Turns out, you got the two of you out early. Right?”

The stormclouds overhead crackle with streaks of lightning, arcs of electricity refracting through the raindrops on the outside of the glass in fractal patterns of organized chaos.

(The sky here still doesn’t feel real, some days.)

The pair look at each other for a long moment, each daring the other to bend first.

To look away,

or even just to blink.

The rain pitter-patters in the gutter above, rolling lazily down the window pane.

“… But that’s a lie,” Kokichi says. Without leaving room for objection, he carries on: “Because I killed you both.”

Gonta knows, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Kokichi had meant it when he said he was willing to be executed instead. He knows those tears had to be real because, with no audience to sway and no strategic advantage to gain, Kokichi is making the very same expression right now. Only this time, without being overwhelmed by the stakes, he’s a bit more successful at keeping the tears at bay.

“Gonta don’t think so! Gonta killed Miu, with his hands, and Monokuma k–”

“I got you killed!” Ouma’s composure snaps. He hadn’t meant to raise his voice so much, but such is life. “It was my fault for showing you the flashback light, it was all bullshit, I should have KNOWN it might be bullshit, why get you involved! To save myself? Like I’d ever make it to the end? Stupid! It was a stupid, impulsive non-plan, because I panicked, and it killed the two people that actually gave a shit about me, and how can you call yourself a leader after a fuck-up like that?”

He hiccups, shaking his head.

“I-It's okay, Ouma. See? Gonta is fine, now. Miu is fine….” Gonta tries to placate him, but getting any closer only makes Kokichi curl in on himself more.

“No. No-no-no-no I kn, I knew this would happen, that’s not even conceit I just know I have no idea how to convince you to give a damn about yourself and talk about this without making it about me, it’s about you, and Miu, and you have no reason to comfort me right now,” he points at Gonta.

Caught in the same spiral of teary-eyed, frantic breathing as Gonta was not long before.

“… In for four, hold for eight, out for four,” Gonta nods, matter-of-fact.

Kokichi wants nothing more than to wink out of existence entirely, not die, just disappear as though he’d never happened at all flip him the hell off for the audacity to give orders to his commander, but he is left with little choice than to comply if he wants any chance of saving face.

Fine. In for four, hold for eight. Out for four.

Silence.

Has the rain stopped overhead?

“Miss Marigold told Gonta to try breathing differently last he went to visit,” Gokuhara offers.

“… She’s right about a lot of things,” Kokichi nods, losing any trace of weeping. Their group therapist was, if nothing else, an interesting woman. Enough to consider in passing, even if not to her face.

“You deserve a better apology than I can give you,” Kokichi’s voice crackles. “I should be sorry. And. I am, but I’m. Not? I didn’t want you dead. But I still wanted to live. I didn’t want Miu dead, but it had to happen. I didn’t want anybody dead, I thought you knew what happened going into the trial. Okay? I fucked up, really bad, and I’m sorry it didn’t work. I’m sorry my plan B was to say a ton of shit I didn’t believe in, and have that all go down the drain too, I’m. Sorry I failed you,” he picks his head up. He looks at the bridge of Gonta’s glasses.

It hurts to smile, but it’s all he really knows how to do.

Gonta ponders this, for a moment.

As breathless seconds tick by, Kokichi finds himself trapped in an eternity of personal hell.

(Why do you care what he thinks so much? Why have you? You’ve lost the right to ask anything more of him, for certain, so why do you need to hear what comes next?)

“… Kaito punched me after. Which. Fair. Y-ou can get a shot in too, if you want,” he tries to laugh, but the sound is strangled beyond recognition.

“Is Gonta still that scary?” Gokuhara says without hesitation, a sorrowful look on his face. “Gonta sorry! Gonta doesn't want to escalate things that way! Not ever!”

“No. You aren’t, Gonta.” (And that’s a lie, but it’s not his stature that’s scaring you. Or anything about him at all, save the idea of his scorn.)

“Good! Gonta won’t hurt Kokichi. Kokichi hurts enough anyway,” he nods, still processing. Now he’s doing it out loud. “Gonta knows Kokichi won’t want him to say ‘sorry’ again, and Kokichi probably doesn’t accept forgiveness either. Yeah?”

Kokichi blinks. Over and over, as though it were somehow an answer.

“Gonta takes that as ‘yes,’” Gokuhara says, smiling. “That's okay. Gonta is… a little mad, at Kokichi. Not because he tells Gonta to be mad! But in Gonta’s feelings,” he looks down at the table. He nods to bolster his spirits, reassure himself. “Gonta wanted to talk to Kokichi a long time ago, but Kokichi always walks away. Kokichi pretends Gonta is not there, and it feels… really bad. Gonta is glad Kokichi stopped to talk to him now, even if he is still a little mad.”

This, apparently, Does Not Compute. Kokichi’s expression turns blank, utterly uncertain of what to do with itself. Kokichi is too busy puzzling things out to worry about performing the appropriate face.

“You don’t. H-Hate,,”

“Gonta don’t want hate you. Not before, not now.” Gonta looks off at the wall above Kokichi’s head for a moment. He puts on his best imitation, clumsy but sincere– “It’s true!”

Kokichi laughs harder than he has in ages. Gonta beams.

“Alright. Alright, what do you want, though? For now, for later, for the good of the order,, ?”

“Hmm,” Gonta enunciates, just so Kokichi doesn’t look quite so lost again. “Gonta wants… to be. Friends? Sometime. Not all at once, but some time. If Kokichi wants, too.” After a small deliberation, he adds: “Not henchman. Not subordinate. Gonta will listen to Kokichi sometimes, but if Gonta doesn’t want to he won’t! And if he does, he will.”

Kokichi gathers up the energy to make an Appropriately Large Display of ‘thinking this over’ before finally letting himself say “I think I can manage that. You drive a hard bargain, Gokuhara-chan! But who am I to deny a fine negotiator?”

Gonta’s expression turns sullen again, a hair’s breadth from whispering ‘oh, it’s okay, you can if you want to I don’t want to impose,’ only for him to nod with the realization. He gets a little starry-eyed with the approval. Kokichi makes a mental note.

“Well, bet you the party’s started by now. Do you feel like elbowing your way back in to a loud, crowded classroom, or do you wanna come look at worms on the sidewalk with me?” Kokichi smirks, like it’s a forgone conclusion.

Gonta is so, so tempted to go with his gut instinct, but. No. Consider what Miss Marigold has been telling you. What Kokichi told you, too, care about yourself. What is it you want?

“Earthworm is an annelid, totally separate phylum from arthropoda– ‘bugs’ go in arthropoda, separate clade too since arthropods have no evidence of spiral cleavage in the makeup of bodies during early development. Earthworm is more like mollusk than bug, more in common with octopus than bumblebee, evolutionarily. In fact, ‘true bug’ classification does not even include bees, or flies, or most colloquial ‘bugs’!”

Kokichi rests his chin on his right arm, having put his jacket back on properly. “Okay. Mm-hmm… d. Do you wanna, though?”

“Gonta would be happy to escort you,” he nods, standing up. Gonta offers his arm to Kokichi.

Kokichi takes it, but still pulls himself up. Progress.

“Such a gentleman,” Kokichi says in a teasing tone too-tainted with a twinge of sincerity. “You were saying?”

Gonta, on his own terms, is happy to oblige.

The checkered scarf stays tucked into the front pocket of Gonta’s suit, Kokichi’s fingers are covered in insect-patterned bandages, and nobody says anything of it.

[ageofpiracyrp]

PLOT DROP 37: THE BAT RAY

"I'm disbanding The Bat Ray as a pirate crew. We've had a good run, but I don't have enough money to keep this thing going for longer. Besides not even having The Bat Ray as a ship anymore, most of my crew are too tired. Prison was rough, and I run a tight ship. And besides..."

Julia looked over at Kenna and nodded. "I have higher priorities right now than being a ship's captain. Kenna's been making her rounds, so a lot of you already know, but we're going legit. We're starting up a gym. KJ gym." Julia gestured at Kenna. "For Kenna and me. We're co-owners. But if you see us out there, we'll be sformed. I'll be Jessie and she'll be Kelly, but it's still just us. Seetha's agreed to make sure our business doesn't fall to pieces. We're gonna be teaching self-defense to people who need it. Like kids. And people who think they're not as good as they could be at protecting themselves. But it's a business so we're charging money. I'm still passionate about it, though."

The (now former) captain cleared her throat. "But just because we're not a ship's crew anymore doesn't mean that you're not important to me. It's been my highest honor to serve as your captain. If you're ever here in Rungung again..." She wasn't going to cry. She wasn't going to frigging cry. "I hope that you'll stop by and spar with me."

---

Julia decided that it was time to focus on what really mattered: her children. Kenna persuaded her to stay in one place. The kids loved going to school and making friends. Even their son Jack was starting to be less of a little jerk.

Besides, ships were expensive, and it was going to be a lot of effort to get enough money and morale to raise up a ship again. Much of the crew were burnt out and looking for something less risky. The Prosperity was overall a less intense work environment, so it was not too difficult to persuade some of the former crew members of The Bat Ray to join them for contract positions (with options for extension).

The new electro-technical (to replace Laurie) and lead mechanic (to replace Marshall, who decided to follow Samira and work on the KBW) picks were pretty good. Nothing too bad to say about them.

Mark was a helpful find as well, as he was a good shot and got along well with the rest of the crew well enough. However, he was an Espionage, and also Gwen's ex-husband, which was complicated.

The new gunner, Leo, was competent, but had some interpersonal issues with some of the Prosperity crew members. Leo also happened to be very annoying.

Aya was a decent pilot with education credentials and flight time under her belt. She also had an unusually good understanding of the ship's mechanics and fuel economy for an operator. However, her weak point was apparently shaking another ship that had already started tailing the ship. Aya blamed herself for the ship being captured by the Galactic Police.

The doctor, Antigone, was a perfectly good doctor... but not a surgeon. Daphne isn't sure why Julia hired someone who wasn't great at surgery, but any doctor was better than no doctor at this point.

Not everyone wanted to or could join Prosperity or KJ Gym's staff, so most of the rest of the crew chose to go through either Gwen Volnal or Makhaira Espionage to assist with placement in a new crew or job. Some like Ekka (who went to be physically closer to Blue Sreleku) chose to leave work on pirate crews altogether.

---

Due to The Bat Ray's former crew members technically still being fugitives, the ones on the ship took some steps to disguise their appearances and identities a little better. Some were better than others:

Leo took on a new sformer-ed appearance altogether, and outside of the ship, has decided to use the name "Colt". (NOTE: Leo's former faceclaim Omar Rudberg is being retired, and his new faceclaim is Jordan Fisher)

Mark dyed his hair. He meant to dye it blond, but did it himself, and it went a little green... He has also started wearing violet contacts and going by "James" (like James Bond) outside of the ship.

Aya also dyes her hair to help her disguise, but it looks better than Mark's dye job. She went to a salon to do the initial bleach session and has dyed her own hair before, so the results are much less green. She has also started wearing silvery-gold contacts in public (she used to wear a different color when pretending to be an Erkuss when the time called for it). Aya has also started wearing glasses (non-prescription even though her erkuss-color contacts are prescription) and goggles outside of the hsip too. She has insisted on being called "Sonic" outside of the ship. Yes, like the hedgehog. Gotta go fast.

Antigone's sformer is a new appearance for her, and she has asked to go by "Auntie" (pronounced Ant-ee) in public.

---

The now fully-staffed Prosperity prepared to take on some new lucrative jobs. Clause Mazrinon had some particularly interesting leads for a few quick jobs that could be prepared for on Earth. Before traveling to Earth, the newly staffed crew would take time to gather supplies, bond as a group, and prepare for the next adventure.

---

New NPC biography:

Antigone

Updated NPC biographies:

Seetha, Leo, Mark, Ekka

Kenna

Julia

Aya

[hemerasiae]

there were a lot of reasons why several of the other talons, as well as many crows, saw teia’s rise to talon as undeserved or even illegitimate. since the faction’s inception, leadership has been passed down largely by nepotism and/or favoritism of the wealthy.

teia was unattached by way of birth family and came from squalor. she was (and still is, despite the wealth amassed from her exploits) a direct threat to the system in place.

this is in spite of the fact that, since being taken in by the crows at age 8, she has worked harder than almost any other crow. there is no other way she would have become the youngest talon in history without working harder, performing better, and sharpening her cunning.

many of her colleagues dismiss her methods, suggesting that her looks play the most impactful role in her success. the truth is, she is wickedly intelligent.

no one can read people better than she can. she will have a baseline, tells, and microexpressions down within a minute or less of meeting someone.

her memory is one of the strongest in the faction. something may be minor to someone, but teia has filed that away for use years down the line.

she’s innovative and clever. she thinks outside of the box and isn’t afraid to get her hands dirty in ways many crows won’t. just because she is a talon, doesn’t mean she stops taking certain jobs. she refuses to be out of practice in any regard.

teia’s interpersonal skills are unmatched. she’s likable and actually enjoys people. where many assassins are antisocial, she thrives in the company of others and has built an intricate web of connections and contacts because of this. she’s essentially the crows’ pr department and social media manager.

she is a master manipulator. she is a hard read, even for those closest to her, and very few can parse when she is being genuine versus when she is playing one of her games.

she actually cares about everyone in her house and most of the crows in general. to her, the crows are family. it matters that she is in good standing with as many of them as she can be. after all, those who trust or like her are easier to bend to her whims.

all of this is to say, she has earned her place tenfold and is one of the most prominent leaders, despite being from the seventh house, for a reason. her power isn’t an illusion; it’s tangible, and over the years, many who were against her have come to realize their misjudgment.

[aberrantbeast]

basic From the Front, since i rarely draw him fullbody

hearth-grampa notes under the cut :)

- his name is Tin !

- he uses he/they, he/him being adopted from one of his paramours. he doesnt accept 'he' from anyone else and will correct those who mistakenly use it

- he was 5'3, now he's 5 foot even. suits him better

- still about 52-55 years of age

- horrible rbf, even for a fish person, though he's not that much nicer initially either! his outward personality is is the definition of abrasive; he is blunt and will not hesitate to knock someone down a couple pegs if he believes they are doing something truly, truly stupid. which is more often then not

- that aside, if you take the time to gain his trust, he's actually really truly sweet under it all! he's soft hearted and really just wants to settle down and have a family, he's just extremely quiet about it

-he has a lot of simultaneous conflicting issues goin on; mostly solitary and keeps to himself, however, craves contact and company. flirty, confident, and charming for certain things, but struggles to form meaningful bonds for others. ykno, that kinda stuff!

- alcoholic to a fault and struggles with fertility issues due to it. it winds up being a HUGE problem in his first long term relationship and the cause of a nasty fight just before said partner's death (hull failure on launch)

- he doubles down on brewing, drinking, smoking and fighting (over flight-safety concerns) after their passing and loses his job as one of the secondary engineers for owv. whoops!

his whole 'story' is grampa is going through a midlife crisis because he never figured out how to manage his emotional state regarding his partner's death (and all the fun that comes with forming new fucking polyam relationships with THAT going on). it is extremely interpersonal and honestly he just looks like he goes missing every few days when something happens (bc no one outside of it knows wtf hes doing)

extra bits!

- usually found wearing heavy clothing, though curiously is often without shoes. he simply dislikes how they feel and uses handmade 'grip tape' in place of them.

- he is touch and texture sensitive, the heavy clothing he favors also mitigates the feel for him. outwardly it translates to him nearly never taking his jacket off even when he is dying of heat stroke

- nearly everything he's got, he's made or grown himself. or he's traded something for a schematic for it and made it himself, with alterations. he is extremely technically skilled and picks things up quickly, but stunts himself by not trusting the work of others. it takes a while, but he turns out to be less of an ass about it over time

[kiindr]

studying counselling has to be one of the best things i have done in my undergrad academic life so far.

we were learning about counselling skills in class and one of the things we covered was about how nonverbal gestures matter in a therapeutic setting.

doing a few simple things like nodding your head, humming affirmatively, leaning forward, maintaining appropriate eye contact (not too much or too little!), and keeping an open body language can go a long way in helping a person feel seen and understood.

we can even take these skills outside the counselling room and apply them to our interpersonal connections. i’m sure we’ll see them getting improved, and our loved ones feeling closer to us because we do something as simple as ‘paying attention’ :)