#how do i even begin to research this. i just want to see how attainable it is lmao | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bestiesenpai · 4 years

Text

Canidae - Geto Suguru

Ah, my first hybrid au and full on yandere piece for jjk! A momentous occasion, I hope everyone likes it lol, femme reader btw. 7.5k words

part two

Content warnings: pseudo-incest, yandere shit, kidnapping, not a/b/o but there’s mentions of going into heat, size difference(although I’m not sure how well I wrote it), talking about a past murder(but no actual killing), choking, stalking, dumbification, kind of shy/skittish reader, drugging(w/ pills and w/ a syringe), brief mention of drug usage, needles, slimy men...there’s a lot of slimy men in here

(S/N) = stage name

It’s been about two months since you ran away from home. You try not to think about it, but in the quiet moments of the day, the hours that you should be using to sleep before your next shift, during meals and even at work, it creeps up like a sickness that just won’t leave.

You hadn’t wanted to leave your home, even if the people there weren’t really your family by blood. After being adopted by the Getou family in your late childhood, you thought life would get better. They seemed like a wonderful family of fox hybrids, all silky black hair and cunning little smiles. Although they weren’t in your same species family, as a house cat you could get along with them easily, a subtle praise to evolution for making foxes more like cats than dogs.

“Hey house cat, stop sulking by the bar and go talk to customers.” A slap on the wall next to you jolts you out of your thoughts and into the loud and bustling world around you.

“S-sorry boss.” Ducking your head away from your furious boss, you adjust the skimpy shorts and crop top that truly did nothing to hide your skin. Working at a seedy hostess bar wasn’t exactly the plan when you ran away, but they were the only place willing to hire you.

Looking out across the crowded bar floor, at least you didn’t have to worry about going out on the street and handing out flyers to get customers tonight. There were several men of different species and ages, sitting at the bar with dark liquor or having pretty bunny girls pour drinks from overpriced bottles at private tables.

Taking a glance at what table you’d been assigned, your stomach twisted in knots. It was a table full of lion men, their business suits wrinkled beyond hope and their manes even more disheveled than what was normal for a lion.

“Hey pretty kitty!” One of them shouted drunkenly, waving a large clawed hand at you as you shuffled closer.

“H-hello.” Giving a nervous wave, you felt a little better at seeing a coworker - a red panda hybrid - sitting between a few of them.

“Ah this is (S/N), she’s a newbie!” The girl, who called herself Fuyumi, announced. Holding up her glass in salute, she took a sip.

“Fresh meat huh?” Suddenly, all eyes were on you again, but the atmosphere shifted. A predatory look was shared between the group and a few men got up to let you slide into the booth, next to your coworker.

“What a pretty little thing you are.” A lion purred loudly next to you, putting a heavy hand around your arm and squeezing your shoulder.

“T-thank you! Let me- let me pour you a drink?” Shrinking under the weight and his lecherous gaze, you grabbed the liquor bottle they ordered and refilled a few drinks that needed to be topped up. Your ears were pressed flush to your head from the nerves, tail slightly puffed up behind you.

“So, your name is (S/N)?”

“Mhmm!” The stage name was something you thought of on the fly, trying to make it the least like your real name as possible. Accepting a drink from Fuyumi, you tried to ease the anxiety pricking at your skin.

Listening in on a story being told by one of the men, you tried to act like you were paying attention. Faking a smile, laughing loudly and keeping the drinks full - those were the only things on your mind. Not the clients walking by being escorted to secret back rooms or the people so obviously snorting something up at one of the tables in the back.

“(S/N), you’ve been quiet!” The man with his arm around you shook you side to side, his eyes falling to your breasts moving and being squished together when he squeezed you to him. “Tell us about yourself!”

“Uhm-” Taking a quick glance at Fuyumi, you cleared your throat. “Well I’m new to Tokyo-”

“Do you have a boyfriend?” He cut you off, an eager look in his eyes. You shook your head obediently. Even if you did have a boyfriend, you couldn’t say yes. You had to be seen as attainable, just within arms reach if they wanted to have you for themselves.

“That’s good, the boys in Tokyo won’t do you any good.” A man to your left chimed in. His shirt was unbuttoned, showing off his hairy chest covered in golden fur. “But the men in Tokyo are a different story.” He winked at you and you forced a giggle up, covering your mouth with your hand to hide your slight displeasure.

“Yeah, what you need is a man, (S/N). You seem so nervous!”

“House cats usually are.” Fuyumi piped up. Grabbing your chin, she pursed your lips with the tips of her white painted claws. “Isn’t that right?” Cooing at you like a baby, she shook your head and turned you to face the men at the table. “(S/N) was so nervous for her interview she nearly cried!”

A round of mocking teases sounded at the table as Fuyumi let go of you, some of them calling you a ‘poor baby’ while others offered to buy you another round of drinks to help you feel better. Your face burned, embarrassment and the close proximity of all the bodies around you making a light sheen of sweat glisten on your skin.

“I’m fine now, though, promise!” Biting your lip, you did as you’d practiced before your shift: putting an arm under your breasts, you pushed it up and tilted your head down, looking up at the men from beneath your lashes. “I feel much better with all these big strong men here.”

It made you sick, the way they all leered at your body and visibly adjusted the front of their pants. Ordering a few more bottles for the table, the sick feeling refused to leave. It clung to the back of your throat, rising bile that refused to be swallowed down.

Hours later, as the sun began to rise and proper members of society were starting to head to work for the morning, you were finally done with work. The table of lions had bought your time for the whole night, their egos boosted by your show of submission.

“You actually did okay tonight, house cat.” Your boss grunted, thumbing through the cash she was counting. “Here’s your cut.” Holding out a handful of bills, you knew better than to question how much was in it. The last time you’d tried to speak up about being shorted, your only window was shattered by a brick and it cost all of your money to fix it.

“Thank you.” Nodding politely, you took it from her hand. It felt slightly larger than normal, but you knew it wasn’t the full amount you’d been promised to receive when you started working. There was always a bit taken off the top, and since you were a newbie, even more.

Quickly changing into baggy sweatpants and a hoodie, you slinked out of the club's back entrance with your hood drawn tightly. Located in the red light district, no one batted an eye at you or where you worked, but it wasn’t them you were worried about.

Running away from home meant running away from the only family you had left, an over controlling big brother with an obsession. An obsession with you. Ever since you met, got adopted all those years ago, he had been infatuated with you.

As a young, freshly teenaged fox, suddenly acquiring a little sister had been exciting. Especially when it turned out you weren’t the same species. He always wanted to be around you, ask you questions about what it was like to be a cat. At first they were innocent, asking about your diet and favorite toys, but as he got older, his interest in you skewed.

You saw the search history on his computer, he spent hours researching cat hybrid heat cycles and when the best time to mate was. He started to go through your phone, taking it away from you under the guise of just being an annoying older brother while secretly looking through all your messages. Always getting jealous if you hung out with friends or didn’t want to sit in his room with him. And his friends knew about his obsession, feeding into it and talking about how much they wished to have a little sister like you, and if he’d be so kind as to share.

Your older brother became more obsessed with you while he was looking for a job after university. Spending hours applying for jobs and going to interviews, he wouldn’t shut up about getting a good job and moving out with you. And when he finally got that good job he always mentioned, that’s when you had to run.

Walking with your head down through the streets, waiting at a crosswalk to pass had you on edge. Just remembering the way he held your hand in public with a grip tight enough to cut off circulation had you shoving your hands into your pockets. A couple walked across the street with their arms around each other, and suddenly the suffocating weight of your brother's arm around your waist as he slept in your bed with you was back.

Forcing air through your lungs, you ran the rest of the way home. It wasn’t a long way to the crummy apartment block you called home and you were inside your cramped studio space and crumpled against the door in no time.

It didn’t always feel good to be in here with it’s water stained ceilings, barely usable pipes and the one, barely big enough window near the front door. You could hardly call it a home, it was just a room with the mattress you bought second hand and the clothes you ran away with strewn across the floor with a tiny kitchen shoved into the corner and a bathroom that surely wasn’t up to code.

But for now, it felt amazing. Your running had only exacerbated the exhaustion you had from working such grueling hours, and just crawling over to your dirty bed took all the energy you had left. With the sun beginning to rise properly into the sky, you closed your eyes and went to sleep.

The sudden alarm from the crappy phone you bought was what woke you up, the early evening sun and the sound of your neighbors yelling at one another through the walls pulling the last few bits of sleep from the edges of your mind.

And so do the set of crystal blue eyes staring in at you from your window, one that not even you can see out of because it’s too high.

“Sat-” The name catches in your throat, and when you blink again the eyes are gone. Rushing out of bed, you rip open the front door and look up and down the hallway. But there’s no one there, no bright white arctic fox fur to be seen, and certainly not the man attached to it.

Gripping the door tightly in your fingers, you linger in the threshold. The longer you stayed out, the more the vivid eyes watching you sleep became a memory, something your overworked mind must have conjured up as it went from sleeping to being awake. With a shaky sigh, you step back into your apartment to get ready for your next shift.

Meandering through the busy streets, you passed by shops that were starting to become familiar to you. There was the odd convenience store, a few illegal gambling dens with restaurant fronts, strip clubs and sex shops.

With time to kill before your shift, you dashed into a convenience store, it’s stark fluorescent lighting a nice switch from the everchanging neon signs outside. Scrounging up what little pocket change you had, you bought the cheapest food possible and sat down at the tiny table near the windows.

Eating slowly, trying to savor not only every bite but every minute before going back to work, a flash of white caught your eye as the convenience store door was opened. The little jingle that played was the only indication someone had actually entered, you barely saw the door open or close.

You could only see a glimpse of the pure white, not even a full on look. Glancing over your shoulder, you didn’t see anyone standing in the aisles, no ears stuck out to give you an indication as to who had come in.

But there was the feeling of being watched that had you on edge. When you turned fully away from the window to look at the store behind you, there wasn’t anyone watching you, yet the feeling still stuck. The target on your back had just been shot dead center, a sharp pang of fear gripped your heart the longer you looked at the seemingly empty aisles.

“Long way from home, little kitten.” A familiar face emerged from your right, but it wasn’t the man you thought it was.

“N-nanami?” It was a shock to see him in a neighborhood like this, his pristine suit more fitted for the financial district a few train stops over that he sometimes visited for work. He was in his usual suit, the one he liked to wear when he was over at your house, and his blond ears and tail were as immaculately trimmed and proper as ever.

“Hm, you’re not calling me Kento-nii anymore?” He said scornfully, sliding into the seat next to you and leaning his elbows on the table.

“Sorry, Kento-nii.” Bowing your head, you turned back to the table as well. Clenching your quivering hands in your lap, your claws dug into your skin to try and ground yourself. Kento hadn’t even said much and yet you were ready to pass out.

“Why’d you run away? You know we all miss you.” Leaning his head in his hands, Kento stared out the window at the people walking by. His lip curled a little in disgust, and a low growl rumbled from the back of his throat. “This isn’t the place for a girl like you.”

“You know why I had to leave.” Staring down at your hands, your eyes burned as you blinked away tears at the memories forcing their way back to you.

“I don’t. Enlighten me.”

“Kento-nii, please-” Your voice trembled, catching in your throat as it broke.

“Tell me, (Y/N). Why did you leave?”

“S-su-” It made you want to throw up just saying his name, so you didn’t. “He killed our parents.” Saying it out loud made the painful burn behind your eyes grow stronger until you were blinking hot tears down your cheeks.

“That’s not true.” Kento said calmly while turning to you. “Your parents died from-”

“Don’t lie for him!” You shouted, finally looking up at Kento. As soon as your voice raised, he wrapped a hand around the back of your neck, forcing your head against his chest and pulling you into a tight hug. Dipping his head down, Kento’s chin brushed your ears as he pressed his lips to them.

“Listen little kitten, you know better than to raise your voice at me. And you know better than to lie.” The fingers around your neck tightened and Kento dug the tips of his claws against your pulse. “Your parents died in a murder-suicide, nothing more nothing less.”

“Let go!” You sobbed, thrashing around in his hold. It was truly useless to try and fight against him. Foxes - and truly, a lot of other hybrid types - were much larger and stronger than you. There wasn’t any chance you had at trying to beat him in strength, but it didn’t mean you couldn’t try.

“Calm down, you’re making a scene.” Fully enclosing his hand around your neck, Kento squeezed the air from your throat and shut down the subsequent scream that followed. Reduced to whimpering, you stilled your body and tried to tug his hand off.

Gasping and choking when he finally let you go, your body was weak from the lack of oxygen and you fully slumped into Kento’s hold. Struggling to catch your breath, there was little solace you could find in his hand stroking between your shoulder blades.

“Come home, (Y/N).” He said gently, like he was coaxing a child into eating their unwanted vegetables.

“No.” Shaking your head weakly, your body trembled violently. Kento didn’t need to speak for you to know he wasn’t pleased with your answer, the pregnant pause that followed was enough.

“Why must you be so difficult, hm?” With a heavy, disappointed sigh, Kento let you sit upright again. Tsking at your bloodshot eyes dripping with tears, he pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped your face clean.

Your lower lip shook as you looked up at him, honey colored eyes to match his blonde hair. Vertical pupils stared back at yours, the only thing the two of you really had in common.

“I’ll ask one more time: will you come home with me, (Y/N)?” Cupping your cheek, Kento wiped the snot dripping from your nose and the drool that had started to drip past your lip. “If you say no one more time, I can’t promise anything.”

“Kento-nii…” Sniffling pathetically, you blinked hard and shook your head.

“(Y/N).” Groaning in annoyance, Kento dropped his hands and put his head back. “I don’t think you’re listening-”

“Y-you listen to me!” Standing up abruptly, your chair fell over from the force and loudly clattered to the ground. “I’m never going back there! Not ever!” It was dangerous to shout at Kento, especially as you saw his pupils begin to dilate. Out of all your brothers friends, he was the one who took the rules most seriously.

Grabbing the food you had left, you ran out of the convenience store. As your feet slammed against the pavement, you didn’t dare look over your shoulder to see if he was chasing after you. Kento hadn’t been the type to play those sort of chase games back at home, but the desperation to have you back in that house was strong enough that he just might follow you.

Running all the way to the clubs back entrance, you slipped inside and hid in the storage room. No one truly bothered to come back there anyway, it was the perfect place to hide behind a few untouched boxes until it was time for your shift.

“Hey house cat, someone personally requested you.” Your boss grunted when she saw you, a cigarette hanging loosely from her lips.

“Who is it?” Attempting to look at the clipboard in her hands, you didn’t quite catch the name of the person that was written down.

“Who cares, it’s some rich fox wearing glasses. He’s at the back, you can’t miss his white hair.”

“What?” Your eyes shot open, heart stopping as her words bounced around your skull. It was too much of a coincidence that Kento had found you and now a white haired fox had requested you.

“Hey.” Grabbing you by the shoulder, your boss glared at you and turned your body around. “Get to work already and stop zoning the fuck out. You don’t want to make me put you on flyer duty do you? There’s some weirdos out tonight that would just love-”

“No! No, I’m sorry ma’am. I’ll get going right away.” Stepping away from her tight hold, you tried not to tremble as you walked to the back table. As you got closer, your knees nearly gave out on you as the fear you had was materializing right before your eyes.

It was indeed Gojo Satoru, your brother's best friend and the deadliest arctic fox you’ve ever come to know. With his pristine snow white hair and ears, keen blue eyes and those trademark dark sunglasses he wears, there was no mistaking him.

“Hey, little sister.” He crooned as you slid into the booth next to him, keeping a healthy distance between the two of you. “Missed ya.”

“Toru-nii, why are you here?” Keeping your eyes locked on the melting ice in his cup, you could barely breathe from the weight of your fear. There wasn’t anything that Satoru couldn’t - or wouldn’t - do. He’d always been the smartest, the strongest, he could beat any hybrid in anything he set his mind to, even with clear biological differences set between them.

“What do you mean why am I here? I’m here to see my favorite little kitten at her new job!” Throwing his arms open wide, Satoru had an easy smile on his face despite your obvious discomfort. “Although, I can’t say you’re doing very well so far. My glass is still empty.”

Wordlessly, you stiffly poured him a drink and slid the glass over to him. Pouring one for yourself as well, you clinked your glasses together when he raised it and took a short sip. Usually you didn’t drink on the job, getting the bartenders to mix you something that was mostly pure juice. But tonight you needed to take a bit of edge off.

“Please just go.” Forcing the words out of your tight throat, a wave of nausea washed over you as Satoru put his hand on your shoulder.

“I can’t leave here without you.” His lips brushed your ears like they used to back at home, but this time he wasn’t whispering crude little jokes to get you to giggle. Sliding his hand from your shoulder to around your ribs, Satoru quickly overwhelmed your personal space with the size of his body.

“Toru!” You gasped as his claws dug into your ribs, threatening to push through the spaces and break them entirely. Tugging on his hand, you looked around to see if anyone else was paying attention to your lonely little table in the back.

“Don’t make this any harder than it needs to be. Kento already tried to be nice and you were just so mean to him.”

“T-toru-nii, please!” Desperate tears sprang to your eyes as every word he spoke was punctuated with a tightening grip around you.

“And here I thought we trained you to be a good girl, (Y/N), I really did. But good girls don’t yell at their big brothers, they don’t lie and-” Satoru broke off to send a charming smile to a few passing hostesses before returning to you, “They certainly don’t run away.”

A choked sob racked through you, drowned out by the loud music being played overhead. In your struggle to get his hand off, you hadn’t realized Satoru slid you onto his lap until it was too late and he could wrap both long arms around you.

Forced to lean back against his lanky body, his fluffy white tail wrapped around yours, deftly hugging it close to him. Engulfing your scantily clad body, Satoru burrowed his nose between your ears, inhaling the scent he always said he liked back home.

“I’ve always wanted to see you wear something like this, ya know.” Thumbing the edge of your crop top, Satoru dipped his fingers underneath the fabric. “Always wanted to dress you up and play pretend, be my cute little hostess for the night.”

“Stop.” Grabbing his wrist, your eyes desperately searched for someone to come save you. But being seated at a table so far in the back of the club was playing to Satoru’s advantage; no one really paid attention to the back of the club because that’s where the truly shady things happened.

“C’mon kitty, play with me.” Satoru whined, bouncing you on his lap a few times. He was always childish, always whining for you to pay attention to him whenever he got the chance, and now was no different. You couldn’t see it, but you knew he had that trademark silly smile on his face regardless of the fact he had a death grip on your body.

“Toru-nii.” Jutting your lip out in a pout, you finally lurched your upper body forward enough to look at him over your shoulder.

“There’s that cutesy little face I missed.” Cooing at you, Satoru loosened his grip enough to let you sit sideways across his lap. Forcing you to wrap an arm around his middle, Satoru kept a tight grip on your back.

“Toru-nii…” Fiddling with the fabric of his shirt, you stole a glance at the eyes staring right through you. “Why do you- why are you helping him so much? You know what he did, I don’t-”

“I helped him do it.”

“What?” Your jaw fell slack and you stared right at him.

“Look, there’s no point in lying to you.” Leaning forward, Satoru grabbed his drink and took a generous swig. “I helped your brother kill your parents and stage it. We even practiced on a few drifters before moving onto the real deal.” Satoru’s smile had fallen, an unfamiliar serious look taking its place.

“You have no idea how long we all planned it, all three of us. Kento took care of your trust fund and the insurance, I subdued your parents and got them in position, and Suguru was the one who pulled the trigger.”

Tears were streaming down your face, smearing the makeup you’d put on, dripping into your open mouth. All other noise in the club fell away, leaving your ears ringing loudly from the silence in your head. Air was barely coming in or out of your lungs, your throat too tight to properly breathe.

“We had it all planned out perfectly, but then you just had to go and mess it up.” Satoru landed a swift slap to your thigh. “You just had to be a bad kitty and run off.” A second slap knocked the air back into you and your body jerked back.

“Toru-nii, why?!” Your scream was loud enough to be heard over the music, and Satoru looked around at the few curious eyes that were now looking at you, his ears flattening against his head as he forced a smile.

“We had to do it (Y/N), so we could all live together as a pack.”

“B-but we already had one.” Sure, you didn’t necessarily need to live in a group but it was nice to be in your adoptive family's pack and be surrounded by their love and care.

“That one...wasn’t the right fit.”

“For who?” Sniffling loudly, you wiped the snot from your nose. “Who wasn’t it right for?” It had been perfectly fine for you. There wasn’t any fighting, no strained dynamics and when your parents were alive, there wasn’t an overbearing older brother trying to completely consume you.

“You’ll do much better in the pack we have now, (Y/N).” Gripping your upper thigh tightly, Satoru leaned forward to press his lips against your ears once more. “Your big brothers will take great care of you.” A sound got caught in your throat, something halfway between a gasp and a scream.

“T-toru-Toru-nii.” A fresh wave of tears pricked your eyes and you blinked hard to keep them at bay. “Can I use the restroom? I just- I really need to use it.” Satoru stilled for a moment, sizing up your words and his options.

“Alright, but be quick.” Slowly releasing the tight hold he had on you, you could finally breathe again. Sliding out of the booth, you bolted to the employee bathroom and collapsed against the far wall.

There wasn’t a way out of the club without Satoru seeing. Even if you ran out the backdoor, he would still see you coming out of the bathroom. The front door was no use, there were too many people you would have to maneuver around.

“And then I said- what the hell, house cat? Are you drugged out?” A few bunny girls walked in, their long floppy ears decorated with silk ribbon. They never really spoke to you, but they weren’t mean to you either.

“My client- he’s just- I-” Stammering, you couldn’t find the words to explain the situation.

“Is he being a fucking freak?” Sauntering up to you, they tugged you up from the floor to lean against the sink counter. Sighing loudly as you nodded, one of them pulled out a small baggie from her bra, a few red pills tucked safely inside. “Here, slip one in his drink and he’ll be out like a light. Then you can have security escort him out.”

“No, he’ll notice.” Satoru would notice without a doubt if you tried to slip something into his drink. He was always watching you, sometimes more than your brother was.

“Alright well I’ll mix a drink and bring it to him, tell him he gets a free drink as a first time customer.”

“You’d do that, really?” You were nearly beside yourself with a sudden rush of hope.

“Yeah, why not? It’s been a while since I’ve had to drug a client. Plus, we can’t have our newest recruit quitting on us already!” Giving you a cheeky wink, the girls sent you on your way, promising to handle it swiftly.

Returning to the table, Satoru pulled you onto his lap once more. You didn’t struggle or make a single peep as his arms wound around you again. His grip was much softer now, not threatening to bruise and crush you.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the girls you talked to walk to the bar. They didn’t look at you at all, going straight to the bartender and whispering a few things in their ear. Attempting to make conversation with Satoru, you didn’t have to wait long for them to come to your table.

“Hi sir, we heard it was your first time here!” One of the girls shouted, bouncing on her heels and making her ears flop around.

“Mhmm, so we thought it would be a nice treat to give you a drink on the house!” Another girl came up, setting down a bright pink cocktail. “Go ahead and try it, I bet you’ll like it!”

“Hm, okay.” Shrugging his shoulder, Satoru grabbed the drink and took a sip, smacking his lips together at the flavor and then taking another. “This isn’t bad, thank you!”

“Of course sir, our pleasure.” Winking at the both of you, they walked away slowly, keeping their eyes on Satoru and fully turning away after seeing him down half the drink.

Satoru always did like a bit of liquor, and it would quickly be his downfall. The drink was a sweet fruity concoction to mask the bitter pill as it dissolved and Satoru’s deadly sweet tooth was hooked immediately.

You didn’t even fully wait for him to pass out before getting out of his lap. His heavy head bobbed side to side, his words slurred not like you’d heard before and his arms had fallen slack off of you. Only his droopy eyes could seem to follow you, silently demanding you to stay in place.

Throwing on your outside clothes in the back room, you kept your hood tightly drawn as you ran from the club. You weren’t worried about pissing your boss off and having to deal with the repercussions, you wouldn’t be returning to that place ever again.

Bursting through your front door, you grabbed whatever clothes you could and shoved them into your bag. The small stack of bills you kept hidden in the bathroom was a welcomed weight to your growing pile, there was enough to at least buy a train ticket and a hot meal a good distance from Tokyo.

Under the cover of the moonless night, you tried to stick to the back alleys on your way to the station that would take you out of town. It paid off to live in such a seedy area, you knew all the ins and outs and where to go to avoid being seen.

Popping your head out from an alleyway, the street before you was deserted. A long string of old warehouses called the street home, their brick and mortar facades well worn from time. Dodging the streetlights as best you could, you could practically taste freedom on the tip of your tongue.

“Oh little sister.” A voice rang out into the dead street, an eerie song sung on the lips of the one man you’d never wanted to see again. Keeping as still as possible, your eyes burned from not blinking, and your lungs from not breathing.

His slow, methodical footsteps scraped across the cement ground, echoing in the silence and heightening your anxiety with every slow drag of his feet. As the sound drew closer, you pressed yourself against the doorway of a warehouse. There wasn’t any way you could outrun your brother, so you had to devise a plan to outsmart him when he got close enough.

“Little sister, I’ve been looking for you.” Suguru came to a halt right in front of you, his towering build casting a shadow over you in the already dark alcove. He was wearing what he had on the last time you saw him, a simple black tracksuit and his favorite slides. His hair had gotten a little longer, resting a few inches past his shoulder blades with the top half in a bun.

Quirking a brow, Suguru hummed low in his chest, reaching an arm out and resting a hand next to your head. His long black claws scraped against the wood of the door, his hand easily large enough to encompass your whole face and then some. The natural musky scent of his body was sickeningly familiar, like you’d only gone just a few hours without smelling it.

“Tell me, did you have fun playing hide and seek with your big brother?” Flashing two rows of gleaming white and perfectly straight canine teeth, Suguru leaned over you, the expanse of his chest blocking out any wiggle room. “I hope you did, because I’m done playing now.”

“Y-you’re not my- my big brother anymore.” Screwing your eyes closed, you twisted your head away from him as much as you could.

“Don’t say such things, (Y/N), you’ll hurt my feelings.” Suguru laughed dryly, clearly unamused.

“Getou li- ahh!” In a flash Suguru had his other hand around your neck, lifting you up to dangle on your tiptoes as he choked you.

“Don’t you ever call me that again, do you fucking understand?” Staring at you with unblinking eyes, Suguru squeezed hard. When your eyes started to roll to the back of your head he let go, stepping back slightly to let you fall to the ground.

Struggling to regain your breath, you tried to crawl away through the small gap left between the wall and him. You barely got one full step before Suguru grabbed you by the back of your hoodie, forcing you to stand and practically dangling you in the air like a doll.

“What’s this?” Seeing the sliver of skin underneath the hoodie, Suguru wrenched it off of you. Your sweats came off shortly after and you were exposed to the elements and his growing glare. “Care to explain why you’re half fucking naked?”

“G-” You started but quickly pressed your lips closed at the sharp look he sent you. “Suguru, just let me go.”

“Answer my fucking question.” His tone left no room for further argument, and you slowly drew your arms over your exposed midriff.

“I started working at a...a hostess bar.” Your words hung in the air, the weight of them heavy and clinging to every part of you. Suguru’s face made no change, the only thing that tipped you off to his anger was the intense flaring of his nostrils.

“My precious little sister has been working at a hostess bar for the past two months? You’ve been dressed like this every night, getting stared at and perved on by god knows what kind of men? You ran away for this?” Suguru’s voice was far too steady for the situation, spiking the already high adrenaline in your blood.

“Suguru please-”

“And it seems you’ve forgotten the number one rule. You know what you’re supposed to call me.” Backing you up onto the door again, Suguru’s fluffy black tail flicked out behind him, it’s long drawn out shadow swaying back and forth.

“You’re not my brother.” Licking your lips nervously, your eyes followed his tail. There was no way you could look him in the eye after saying that. Suguru began to laugh, a cold and hollow sound from the base of his throat that sent a chill down your spine.

“And why exactly is that?” Slamming both hands down on either side of your head, he leaned down to make eye contact with you, his pupils blown wide against his already pitch black irises.

“You know.” Forcing the words out of your mouth, you curled into yourself as much as you could.

“No, I don’t.” Speaking slowly, Suguru waited just a few seconds before slamming his hands down again. “Tell me little kitten, right now!” You let out a piercing scream, covering your face with your hands.

“You killed our parents! You killed them and I heard you fucking do it!” Coming face to face with your adopted brother, the man that killed your parents in cold blood, and having to talk to him about it were all making your head spin.

“No, no I didn’t do that, honey. You’ve got it all wrong.” Suguru’s voice dropped low, instantly adopting a soothing tone. His fingers toyed with the edges of your ears, brushing the soft fur gently. “Mommy and daddy...they had problems. And I know it must be hard to believe, but they did it to themselves.”

“You’re such a liar!” Smacking his hand away from your ears, you glared at him, frustrated tears stewing on your lash line. “I heard you shoot them Suguru! I heard mom-” Your voice cracked, and the tears began to stream down your face. “I heard her tell you not to do it.”

Falling silent, Sugurus face remained neutral. His hand remained in the air from when you smacked it away, and the only indication he was still alive was the subtle flicker of his eyelids and the way his chest barely moved as he breathed.

“I knew I should have drugged you more.” He finally broke the silence, putting his hand back on the door to keep you trapped. Everything Suguru did felt like you were watching it in slow motion. The way he drew in a deep breath, expanded his chest and arms out wide and then drew you into a tight, bone crushing embrace all felt like it happened too slow. Like you should have been able to prevent it.

“Suguru!” You screamed his name from the top of your lungs, throat quickly going raw from the volume of your shouts. “Let me go! Let me go!” Writhing around, you felt the air quickly being squeezed out of you.

“It doesn’t matter now though. It’s all in the past!” Laughing to himself, Suguru took a few steps back, going to the middle of the deserted street and under a light post. “That’s right! The past! No need to worry about it, what’s done is done!”

“Su-Sugu-nii! Sugu-nii please!” You finally broke. You finally called him what he had trained you to call him for all those years. Your precious big brother.

“Oh how I missed hearing you call me that!” Still laughing, Suguru let out a loud hum. “I think I should record you saying that so I can play it over and over whenever I need my fix.”

“Sugu-nii, please!” The tears of frustration were now turning to tears of fear and desperation. The squeezing had stopped, you could just barely suck in air, but your feet still dangled off the ground. “Please let me go- this isn’t okay!”

“What does a dumb little kitten know about what is and isn’t okay?”

“Sugu!”

“You’re just a stupid little baby who got scared without her mommy and daddy and ran away. Well don’t worry, my darling sister, Sugu-nii is here to take care of you.” Nuzzling his nose against your ears affectionately, Suguru sighed contently. “We’ll be a family again, just like before. You’ll be with the pack just like you’re supposed to.”

“I’m not- not even a fox, Sugu!” Your chances of leaving his hold anytime soon were quickly diminishing, there wasn’t much you could say - if anything - to convince him to stop. “I don’t need to live in a pack, I don’t- I’m not a canine at all!”

“Hm, like that matters. Foxes act more like cats anyway.” Shrugging his shoulders, Suguru put his hand on the back of your head, raking his nails softly against your scalp. He was holding you now like a baby doll, the arm that had previously been crushing you against him now coming to rest under your bottom and cradle you.

Something caught your eye, making you twist away from Suguru in hopes that it was someone that had heard the screams and was coming to save you. Your heart deflated just as quickly as it swelled when it was Kento who had appeared, a metal briefcase in his hands.

“Look, Kento-nii is here. Go to him.” Putting you on your feet, Suguru nudged you forward. Your knees locked, refusing to move toward the imposing figure.

“It wasn’t nice to drug Gojo like that, little kitten. He’s passed out in the back of the car as we speak, you’ll have to apologize to him when he wakes up.” Kento closed the distance between the two of you, eyes glowering and brows tightly knit together.

“How did you-”

“You think just because you run away we can’t track your scent? How do you think we found you at the club after you so rudely left our conversation? Just a few sniffs and it was like you walked us right there.” Flicking the briefcase open, Kento’s face was obscured as he began to dig around for the contents. “I was waiting by the backdoor of that shitty little club, I had a feeling Gojo wouldn’t be able to convince you to come back and you’d make a run for it again, and you did. It was far too easy to call up Getou and let him know.”

The words Kento was saying were barely sticking inside your head, your complete focus going to the loaded syringe he had pulled out from the briefcase and was now holding in his hands, an almost bored expression on his face.

Taking a step back as he took one forward, you bumped into Suguru’s chest. He made a tsking noise, quickly sliding an arm under your chin and another around your middle to keep you from moving.

“Stop! Stop, Sugu-nii please!” The tears that dripped down your face didn’t matter anymore. Your voice going hoarse from all the screaming didn’t matter anymore. Nothing mattered anymore. At least, nothing you wanted mattered.

“Just try to be calm, little sis. Kento will be quick.” Suguru chuckled darkly, resting his chin atop your head. Any further words you had dissolved into frantic screams as Kento grabbed your arm and wrenched it away from your body.

Pushing the needle into you, he injected you with a serene face. Like he had practiced this before, almost as if he was a doctor giving you a flu shot. Whatever was in the syringe was gone quickly, Kento unloading the whole vial into you before calmly placing it back in the briefcase and shutting it.

“Don’t cry baby.” Suguru cooed, pressing a flurry of kisses on your head as he loosened his hold and began to wipe the tears off your face.

“Sugu- Kento-” You were losing track of the world and fast. Things blurred together, the crisp edges of Kento’s body were melting into the brick walls behind him. Your limbs were giving out on you and Suguru was quick to pick you up and cradle you like he had done before.

“Sshh, just go to sleep.” Pressing his lips against your ear, Suguru whispered softly, giggling at the way you closed your heavy eyes and relaxed into his embrace. “We’ll be home before you know it. One big happy family.”

#tw: pseudo-incest #tw: yandere #tw: needles #tw: drugging #jujutsu kaisen #geto x reader #geto suguru #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen scenarios #yandere jujutsu kaisen

1K notes · View notes

wordsnstuff · 4 years

Text

Guide to Drafting

Patreon || Ko-Fi || Masterlist || Work In Progress

–

Planning v. Discovery

The first thing you must decide when you embark on the journey of drafting a story is how you’re going to get it done. Typically, there are two groups you can fit into, though most writers are somewhere in between. There are writers who plan meticulously before they begin writing to create a very clean first draft, or there are discovery writers (otherwise known as “pantsers”) who find more success in choosing a premise and then using a zero draft to explore the idea before gluing down any details. You are most likely someone who falls between those two methods. Some initial planning to feel familiar with your idea before you do some of the planning through the writing itself. Having some semblance of a method will help you narrow down your own process, which is immensely important if you want to get any substantial project near completion.

Consistency

Drafting is a difficult process because it’s either the revisitation of ideas you’ve already had, or the generations of ideas in quick succession. If you want to have a draft in a reasonable amount of time, you must develop a consistency in your writing. I won’t say that it must be a strict routine because time management can be a luxury, but you must make the consistent effort to write, and keep it in the forefront of your mind. Even if you don’t write every day, it should be something you try to make time for every day.

Know What You’re Trying to Accomplish

To get a draft done, you need to set expectations for yourself and they must be realistic. That doesn’t mean they have to be easy, or an amount of work you’ve been able to accomplish in the past. Considering how much time you dedicate to writing and your skillset, it should be a goal within reality. In addition, you must accept that you cannot create a masterpiece in one draft. For each version of your story that you write, you must have a focused goal, such as maintaining consistent characterization, making the plot concise and engaging, or making the prose more fluid and efficient. If you have a specific and attainable goal that you can accomplish in a reasonable amount of time with a fair amount of precision, each draft will be better than the last.

Designate Work to Phases

As mentioned in the last section, it maximizes your time and effort to have specific and attainable goals for each draft. This doesn’t mean that you rewrite the draft each time (though that is very common amongst writers), but that you designate tasks to draft versions. I find it very helpful in clearing my mind and soothing my perfectionist anxiety to make a “schedule”, outlining what I’ll accomplish in each version following the zero draft. For example, my draft schedules usually end up something like this:

Zero Draft: Main plot line, basic characterization, key world building

First Draft: Finalize Timeline, research for world building, structure

Second Draft: (Rewrite) Plot Development Fine Tuning

Subplot development

Foreshadowing

Build up to climaxes

Tone & Pace

Third Draft: (Intermittent Rewrites) Character Development Fine Tuning

Backstory

Subtextual Development

Making sure motivations are clear

Relationships between characters

Reinforcing character arcs

Checking dialogue

Fourth Draft: (Give to Beta Readers) World Building & Prose

Descriptions & Flow

Finalize settings

Checking grammar & punctuation

Reader Immersion

Fifth Draft: Incorporate Beta Reader Feedback

Write for Yourself First

In what some call the “zero-draft”, there are no rules. This draft is purely for your eyes. It’s you telling yourself the story for the first time. So, you don’t have to write in chronological order, or know the right word you’re looking for, or take a break every time you run into a problem. The purpose of the zero draft is to get a rough idea of as much of the story as you can and avoid getting snagged on minor details. This part is important. A lot of writers like to outline meticulously before they begin drafting and if that works for you, that’s great, but the majority of writers who attempt that get stuck in the planning phase, or burnt out on their story before a word of it exists. The easiest way to avoid those two situations is to do a zero draft, which can be as long or short as you want if it provides a skeleton for you to add meat to later.

Common Struggles

~ How do you estimate the number of words/chapters?... That depends on the genre, mostly. However, that’s usually something you decide in the second draft and beyond, and it can vary because of factors you haven’t got locked down until the plot and character arcs are firm or final. This is also something you’ll probably do a lot of tinkering with, and receive feedback on, especially from beta-readers, who can advise you on where natural breaks could occur from their perspective.

~ Why, after planning everything out, do I always struggle to write the draft?... 99% of the time, it’s because you’ve either burned yourself out, or accumulated too much pressure. When you put that much effort and time into a story, you can either slip into a headspace where you feel little excitement about it because you’ve already done all of the problem solving and had all of the revelations. It’s usually beneficial at this stage to take a step back (even if you’re not burnt out) and give your story some space, so that once you come back to it, you’re enthusiastic enough to fully realize your vision. If instead you’re struggling to write because you feel a lot of pressure to do justice for a story you’ve put so much love into already, take a step back, remember that the first draft is just for you, and work on letting go of the idea that the zero draft is meant to serve any purpose beside simply existing.

~ How do I come up with the necessary scenes to move the story forward between major plot points?... Most writing problems can be solved by asking yourself the right questions. When you’re trying to figure out what your reader needs to see next in order to effectively set up the next major event, ask yourself “What would happen between event A and event B that would add context or make event B more impactful?”. Treat it like a real situation and try to map out all of the tiny, notable moments that would take place between the major plot points, and then assess those moments on the basis of how impactful they would be to the coming scenes, and whether they can add context, set the tone, or aide in the rising action.

~ How do I balance sticking to the draft and following my own creative instinct in the moment?... This is a judgement call. Sometimes you’ll realize that maybe you should have just stuck to the outline, but remember that you can always go back, rewrite, test things out, etc. Always save every version of every scene, just in case, and go wild. Don’t be afraid to take detours just to explore. The writing process is anything but linear.

~ How do I maintain momentum in my writing progress when I constantly have distractions or other responsibilities that take priority?... Work at it. There’s no magic trick or piece of advice I could say that gets rid of your personal responsibilities. Write when you can, don’t make excuses on top of the reasons you have no control over, and remember that you create your own deadlines and expectations. Be kind to yourself, do what you can, and don’t spend potential writing time punishing yourself because there isn’t as much as you’d like.

~ How should I designate space (words/pages) to specific scenes/description/conversations, etc?... Trust your instinct and remember you can always cut/add later. In the earlier drafts, I’d advise you try to create as much material as possible to work with, and in the later drafts, be ruthless when determining what is necessary and adds value, and what doesn’t.

~ How do I finish a draft if I regularly lose motivation or interest in my projects?... Accept the fact that motivation is fickle, and that no writer in history has ever maintained “inspiration” for any project from the beginning to the end. There are going to be days where you’re like “ugh this is not what I want to do right now”, probably more than there are days where you’re stoked to work on your project, but that’s reality. If your goal is to finish a draft, you must recognize that writing is work, and nobody wants to work all the time. Try to supplement the lack of motivation by setting a positive and enjoyable routine so that, even when you’re not particularly motivated, you still know that your writing time will be peaceful and comfortable.

–

Masterlist | WIP Blog

If you enjoy my blog and wish for it to continue being updated frequently and for me to continue putting my energy toward answering your questions, please consider Buying Me A Coffee, or pledging your support on Patreon, where I offer early access and exclusive benefits for only $5/month.

Shoutout to my $15+ patrons, Jade Ashley and Douglas S.!

#writing #writeblr #writing advice #writing tips #writing resources #resources for writers #writing reference #writing help #writespo #writing inspiration #writing motivation #inspiration #motivation #drafting

547 notes · View notes

scarletarosa · 3 years

Text

Basics of Using Crystals for Magick

Crystals are just one of the many tools a witch is able to utilize, but the basics of using them are often not taught nowadays, causing many to be unaware of the foundations of working with them. In short, crystals act very much like amulets and talismans, but this also means they must be properly activated in order to operate. There are many things that they can assist with, but of course they cannot do everything, so plenty areas of magick will require alternate methods.

Every crystal has the potential for certain types of magick, but this potential must first be unlocked. This is done through meditating on the crystal through a basic ritual, or a more advanced one if you wish for maximum effect. Each type of crystal has a unique energy signature that connects it to certain frequencies for specific areas of magick. This also means that not one crystal can replace every other crystal, this saying about clear quartz was a rumour. Clear quartz, just like every other crystal, has a unique energy connection and its own specialties. The energy connections of crystals also cannot be changed to whatever you wish, these energies are like their DNA.

When you are selecting a crystal to work with, make sure that its energy connection is associated with the type of magick you are needing. The Crystal Bible by Judy Hall is a very good book to begin researching the specialties of each crystal type. But remember, a witch who is experienced in sensing energy can simply hold a crystal and connect with it in order to know which areas of magick it corresponds with, as well as its associated planets. It is a good idea to experiment with this beforehand in order to test yourself and make sure the sensations you acquire are correct.

Another important thing to know about crystals is that each one is sentient, some more than others. This is because each crystal is the body of a minor earth elemental, which remain as the consciousness of the crystal. Some few crystals may have an additional spirit inside them- a nature spirit that sought out the crystal as a temporary home, sometimes to recuperate from injury. If you are fortunate enough to obtain a crystal with a nature spirit (which are other elementals), they may be willing to assist you with your magick. However, only around 30% of crystals contain one of these. Among these are some few elementals that are especially ancient and powerful. If you have developed clairaudience, you can connect with this spirit and write what you learn from them. Also remember to always treat the spirits with respect; you do not own them.

Crystal shapes: The shape of a crystal also effects its power and usage. Different shapes have different frequencies and ways of directing the crystals' energies, for example: rose quartz is ideally used as a sphere, but it doesn't work well as a pyramid. Fluorite works well as a sphere or prism, while lapis lazuli can be used well in all forms. White quartz and calcite can also be used well in every shape. Amethyst varies a lot depending on what form you get it in, but if you want it to be associated with your dreams, buy a raw amethyst (the ones with spikes).

Cleansing: Once you purchase your crystal and take it home, the first thing you need to do is cleanse it. If you do not, whatever toxic energies that were absorbed from its previous environments and people will affect it and yourself. Cleansing crystals can be done in several ways, such as placing them in sunlight, clean water, or a bowl of salt. However, keep in mind that some crystals have adverse reactions to these and must be cleansed in a different way. Although if you are skilled with using energy in magick, you can cleanse the crystals by burning them with astral fire. Make sure to sense or astral-view the crystal afterwards to make sure you did it properly.

Once cleansed, the crystal will begin awaiting your instructions as to what you seek assistance with. For example, there are crystals that can be used for healing, protection, attacking, attaining wisdom, becoming better at meditation, astral projection, lucid dreaming, etc. There is also Maximization, which is obtained by special ritual keywords that the spirits give you, or by complimenting your meditations with a ritual involving planetary hours- similar to when making a talisman. The purpose of this is to synchronize the crystal with certain energies in specific planetary hours to maximize its magick effect.

Meditation: A basic ritual meditation is done by focusing on the crystal until you get to an altered state of mind, then you must imprint the crystal with your specific intention on what you want help with (according to what the crystal is naturally connected to). To meditate effectively, both your mind and body need to be relaxed- you sit upright and breathe deeply, using your breathing to lower your heart rate. Do this slowly. Allow your mind to go inside the crystal, as if flowing through it. This helps you see certain things about your crystal, such as symbolic images, so write these down and investigate them. This also helps you to develop a trusting bond with the crystal.

Continue doing this while focusing your intention into the crystal until it has been activated. This takes various amounts of time to complete depending on how experienced you are with meditation. If you are someone who is a beginner or has trouble with meditation, the process should take around 45 minutes straight. But if you are skilled with meditations, it can take around 10 minutes. For those who are experienced with sensing energies, you will be able to confirm for yourself when the crystal has been activated during meditation.

Once completed, the crystal will be more powerful. The last step is to tune into the frequencies of the crystal, thus creating a binding node. Basically, now you and the crystal will become linked, making it truly yours. This close contact allows a better connection and better magick between you and the crystal. This is similar to going to a merchant, and if you befriend them, you are more likely to receive benefits. It can still be used by someone else or given away if you choose, but remember that it's like giving away a friend. You have to explain to the crystal what you are doing, especially since they have been your companion and they may react with opposition towards having a different keeper. Another note is that if you wish to use your crystal as an amulet against being cursed, it can be extremely helpful against curses of death towards you. If you have the crystal on you when this happens, the crystal will absorb the curse, keeping you safe. But in effect, the crystal’s spirit will be damaged, and its crystal appearance may become discoloured or even cracked.

If you wish for a crystal that is attached to jewelry, the entire piece of jewelry must be ritually consecrated in a similar manner, including meditating on it during the days of the week corresponding to its associated planets. If you wish for extra effect, draw the sigil of the planet your crystal is strongest with, then keep them together during meditation (during that planet’s day only). After, the jewelry must be kept in a dark place while you meditate on it for a final time. The next day, keep it under your pillow for three nights straight, allowing a further bond. If done correctly, your jewelry will be enchanted and ready for use.

So in conclusion, these are the basics of using crystals in witchcraft. A crystal that has not been ritually consecrated in this way (or any more advanced way) will simply be a crystal with only a very small amount of magick use. These are more like display items than magickal items, so ritual consecration is extremely important as it makes all the difference. A crystal is utilized by being kept with you so you can receive its influence (again, they act how amulets and talismans do). Using crystals for magick is a beautifully complex spiritual-science that requires a lot of study and practice, but I hope this introduction will assist in getting you started.

#crystals #magick #witchcraft #occult #rituals #crystal magick #consecration of crystals #cleansing crystals #elementals #magick practices

209 notes · View notes

gothicprep · 3 years

Text

Meditations on True Crime: A Very Long Post

In around February of this year, I was researching a potential video related to how true crime media portrays websleuths, contrasted against their efficacy in each specific case. The introduction was a brief primer on the genre’s evolution, beginning with its general association with low-budget LifeTime films, to a hobby with more dignity than that. I remember finding an article talking about Serial, and there was some commentary in there from another large true crime podcast host.

I didn’t think it was particularly useful for my purposes, but it said something to the effect of “true crime as a hobby can help women reconcile the trauma related to being in a world that is so hostile to us.” I rolled my eyes at it. It seemed dishonestly saccharine, like it was giving a sort of post-hoc legitimacy to just enjoying whodunnits. I didn’t think about it again for around seven months after I’d read it.

One of the subjects that I intended to talk about was Elisa Lam’s death and the online reaction to it. The story was adapted into a Netflix series a few months prior, and I was freshly reminded of how poorly it all sat with me. If you aren’t familiar with her name, she disappeared in Los Angeles’s Cecil Hotel in 2013, and her disappearance went viral after the respective police department release footage of her behaving strangely in an elevator. The case attained quick viral status and extensive discussion, due to the nature of the video and the hotel’s morbid history. When her naked body was discovered in a rooftop water tank a few weeks later, speculation exploded. But an autopsy isn’t an immediate followup, and the online sleuths would lose themselves to their imaginations in the time between. Many people wanted the murder solved, but many let their speculation fly off the rails. Shady hotel coverups. Metal musician murderers. Fear of the homeless. Ghosts. Demons. Government tuberculosis research. The gang was all there.

If you weren’t active online back then, it’s difficult to properly convey how huge this all was. Everyone was expecting Elisa to have been murdered. Iron-clad. Beyond the shadow of a doubt. She wasn’t. Her death was ruled an accident. She had a severe case of bipolar disorder and she wasn’t taking her medication. The severity of her illness was also not previously disclosed to the public. The working theory is that she experienced a manic episode with psychotic features, climbed in the tank in this state, to eventually strip out of her clothes in late stage hypothermia and drown there. It’s a horrific and painful way to die. All that’s left of you is water contamination – insult to fatal injury.

People weren’t happy with this, but not out of any sympathy for Elisa. There was palpable rage from many who had been following the case. No, she was definitely murdered. No, her killer needs to be brought to justice. No, this isn’t the real story. I don’t like it. I’m not satisfied. There needs to be an ending better than this.

Tragedy isn’t exactly in the habit of being kind to us.

When news of Gabby Petito’s disappearance was spreading, I noticed a lot of similarities between hers and Elisa’s. A woman in her early 20s vanishes while traveling, under very unusual circumstances. Footage was released during both investigations, which portrayed these women in mentally vulnerable states. The story was viral online. People rifled through Gabby’s instagram in the same way they did with Elisa’s tumblr. Social media detectives established an inappropriate amount of investment. Everyone is sure of a specific outcome. The family deserves answers.

Let’s talk about answers for a second. I’d like you to spitball a comprehensive explanation for this one: how could something like this happen? I’m not looking for a “how” in terms of events or circumstances. In this case, this isn’t a question. It’s a protest of the unfairness of it all. My daughter. My sister. My friend. Someone who meant so much to me. It’s a prayer to a vacant sky. It’s not a question, it’s agony. Nothing shy of resurrection can feel like justice. Even if the case leads to a criminal trial and conviction, it does nothing to fill the void loss burns within us. There is no good answer, because there aren’t answers at all.

Let’s talk about ourselves for a second. I noticed many people draw parallels between what they’d seen on the bodycam footage and their own experience with abusive partners. “This could have been me.” Do you really think this is appropriate? Could have been, would have been – these are statements with hypothetical validity. It has nothing to do with you. To emotionally identify with someone does not evidence anything. You’re here. She’s gone. This isn’t about you. She isn’t in the position where she can co-sign anything you say. If she can’t speak for herself, don’t invoke her.

Let’s talk about true crime for a second. It’s funny how true crime marketed to men has a distinctly different texture than true crime marketed to women. The former seems to involve knocking the perpetrator down a peg. It portrays them as something worth our disgust and ridicule. The latter tends to foster emotional identification with the victim. Podcasts and other media in this category tend to be by women, for women, and generally discuss women. This story is presented as catharsis for women who see themselves as similar to them. This woman is no longer a person, but an idea. And it makes me think of that stupid article quote that I resent myself for not having bookmarked. This is reconciliation. These women, in their passing, can be a motivating factor for us to break up with that one dumbass guy. I’m so happy this was a wakeup call. I’m so happy that this made me think about my own experiences. I’m so happy that this did so much for me. Sure, someone actually died, but what is that when compared to my own self-actualization?

I made a comment on Twitter about how disgusted I was with how people spoke of Gabby in such an evasively self-interested way, and someone who likely was of no relation to her interjected with how the family deserved the truth. Truth? What truth? What peace will grisly details give them? Is there any meaningful difference between knowing your loved one died of murder or collapsed from exposure? Or are you just a nosey person who’s projected an inappropriate emotional dog in this fight? Do you want answers for her family, or for your own curiosity?

I really don’t trust shit like that, nor am I willing to give leniency to people who say such things. I think we’ve been conditioned to relate to dead women in a way that’s completely separate from who they actually were. Alive, they’re deep, multifaceted individuals, with an array of likes, dislikes, quirks, and endless little details. Dead, they’re a concept to serve a purpose. The purpose is generally a form of narrative catharsis. The creep gets thrown in prison. A woman’s abusive partner gets the comeuppance he deserves. The story needs a good ending. The story needs an ending that satisfies me. People aren’t stories. Life is not a novel.

The real trauma of others will never belong to you. This not your therapy tool or plaything. This is real pain that will never be theoretical for plenty of people. Know your place. Keep your distance. Don’t objectify the dead.

#you know i'm going for the jugular if i bother to punctuate my posts #also do take my warning: it is long

41 notes · View notes

luckyspacerabbit · 3 years

Note

would you ever share the background you created for kai leng? i'd be so interested in hearing it!

Hehe, yes! Thank you for waiting anon. I wanted to really think this through and make sure I was working with all the possible details of his character.

Okay, so my goal with fleshing out Kai was not to excuse him as a villain or to necessarily redeem him, but to humanize him and hopefully incur sympathy because I find his depiction as a mysterious lackey boogeyman to be 🙄 one dimensional and playing on racist tropes like the yellow peril ✨ (also bioware making him predominantly chinese + a lil russian. extrapolate what u will lol)

So here is my background for Kai :) Lots of childhood headcanoning and then some general talk about his character/why I chose certain elements as I did (such as dumping that dumb phantom blade for butterfly swords AEORHIG)

Childhood: According to the wiki, Kai is Earthborn, and from his general heritage we can assume that he grew up in Northern China (omg that's where my ancestors are from). The most populous city there is Beijing, which, if there was a spaceport or alliance recruitment anywhere, it would be there.

I headcanon that he was born to a bit of an unsteady family, where it was likely there was estrangement and unsafe conditions between the mother and father that may have created a sense of helplessness and neglect from a young age.

In my canon, Dan Hyun's mom, Hannah Shepard was the head of an agricultural research facility on Trident, and was an old friend of Kai's mom (From University, possibly).

As conditions worsened throughout Kai's childhood, his mom decided to take a chance and flee with Kai (age 10 at the time) to Hannah Shepard's science facility on Trident (Sentinel Agricultural Research Facility), where she and Kai would stay for about two years as his mom worked to save enough money for their own place .

Since Dan Hyun was already being homeschooled, it was easy enough for Kai to join up alongside her.

Dan Hyun (12 at the time) was extremely happy to have a friend since life on the facility could be really lonely-- but with all these changes Kai was having a difficult time adjusting, especially when Dan Hyun felt put off by his competitive attitude. After so long feeling neglected and growing in a tumultuous home environment, he craved external validation: homeschool provided an avenue for that. They developed their own academic-based competitive rivalry that counted towards friendship, but grew distant when he moved out with his mom about two years later.

When Dan Hyun was 18 (Kai at 16), she managed to apply to an Alliance Research Training program and receive admission-- something that was considered highly prestigious, despite her parents' reluctance. Kai had already begun to build resentment towards her due to the way her parents treated her (very preciously, sheltered, and without exposing her to the difficult parts of life) in contrast with what he lacked in family and world kindness, creating a drive to supersede her and compete with her once again, if only to have tangible proof that just because he began in a lower place didn't mean he couldn't surpass the vision of success.

After this event, they would strike up a still somewhat friendly rivalry again that continued until Kai enlisted in the Alliance at the age of 18 (his attempts to join directly at 16 failed in my canon lol, but he sure tried )

Alliance Service:

Kai took the combat-driven route while Dan Hyun was receiving training for her eventual research establishment in Akuze, meaning that in their line of work, they never crossed paths-- Though they maintained occasional communication and met up here and there whenever Kai was back from his tours.

This is where I believe his decline truly began.

Some habits, like his desire for tangible proof of success and seeking external validation, manifested more heavily in this time. Collecting badges off of dead soldiers (To remember his skill first hand) is a notable one, but I speculate he relied heavily on the word of his commanding officers to counter his self-esteem. Titles were incredibly important because they were proof. When he began to feel a loss of control which led to emotional outbursts and breakdowns, he would fall back on these bits of evidence that he had done something, anything.

The weight and violence of service combined to break away his mental strength and conditioned him to that of a soldier.

Famously, he was discharged in 2186 after his N7 designation. In a bar fight on shore leave, he murdered a Krogan (OKAY. Listen. The wiki says "first-degree murder" but first degree requires premeditation and bar fight implies heat of the moment. So IDK I think the details around this one are a little fishy. He was on leave but he was a soldier, so ? he probably just had a weapon on him? Okay, I'm not excusing him but premeditation is a bit different from manslaughter so just something I've pondered. It separates intentional killers from accidental murders).

At this point, he is formally incarcerated and set to serve a twenty-year sentence.

Cerberus Contact:

The year is 2177, and Kai has lost everything he's ever worked for. His prestige is gone, he is at the worst place he has ever been, his mom won't talk to him, and he has no one. He had even stopped hearing from Dan Hyun, the only person he could have considered a friend once.

Through a small TV in the prison, he is able to hear about the attack on Akuze, and its one survivor: Alliance Scientist Dan Hyun Shepard. In the attack her biotic abilities (Which she had kept secret for many years) were revealed, prompting immediate recruitment into the N7 Program and a contract for ten years of service. This drove Kai into rock bottom-- while he had nothing, Dan Hyun was steadily on track to uprooting the only thing he had ever felt like he had accomplished.

This is when Cerberus intervened, promising him a home, freedom, belonging, and success.

So of course Kai agreed. Why wouldn't he? He had nothing left in his miserable life and there would never again be a place for him.

Cerberus Intervention:

It's my belief that Kai wasn't necessarily "alienphobic" in the beginning. Instead, I think The Illusive Man saw a very clear opportunity to recruit and nurture a broken man into a pawn of service. TIM is incredibly smart-- everyone who works for Cerberus is. He knew what Kai needed was validation, the promise of success held directly on the tip of his tongue to drive him into tenacity and action.

Organizations like Cerberus, even in real life, prey on people at weak points, fulfill their needs and drape their ideology on top like icing on a cake. That's not to say that Kai is completely innocent-- he ate the sweets and readily threw the world to the side in order to attain more-- but it does give some perspective.

Kai in Cerberus:

In ME2 we know there is some apprehension on Kai's part about the role Shepard will play. He is already starting to feel slighted from failures with Rasa and takes even the possibility of rejection from TIM extremely hard and with violent emotional outburst. This evidences how much TIM has whittled him away over the decade of service. Kai feels as though he owes everything to TIM, that TIM saw something in him-- failing him is disproving that and accepting what Kai has feared all along: that he truly is a worthless and incapable person.

Kai and Shepard:

Kai is best known for his direct antagonism towards Shepard in the events of ME3, directly killing their allies and potential love interests in a way that is extremely personal. Yes, it is part of the job, but at the same time, it's clear Shepard gets under his skin. It's because in the end, after all that setup, Shepard is the one person who can take it all away from him.

They can replace him as TIM's prodigy/ They can bring an end to the organization that gave him everything (From his cybernetic enhancements (uh indoctrination cough couch) ) to his purpose in life. Kai threw it all in with them because he didn't see another choice.

My Canon: The End

So how do things end for Kai in my canon?

As you're aware, you can unalive him, violently. But Dan Hyun is very emotional and due to their shared childhood, I like to believe that there was still a grand feeling of kinship between them, a recognition of the other due to shared insecurities. I don't think there was ever a time Dan Hyun looked at Kai and saw anything other than her slighted friend (which is very romanticized, but SHE is very romanticized), it was just about getting Kai to see that too.

She locked him down the best she could, yelled, cried, and beat the shit out of him, but ultimately, preserved his life. After the crucible had been fired and Thane (alive ofc) attended to, she sought to right things between her and Kai: whatever form that takes. Who knows if he'll ever be able to live comfortably in society again-- but at least here, he has the chance.

Random Tidbits:

Some notes! At his best, I like that Kai is portrayed as Loyal, Hard Working, Methodical, Clever, Tenacious, and Factual. I think sometimes he can be written off unfairly as wimpy or scared, but in truth, he's very sure of his abilities and able to calculate his chances extremely well. He's smarter than fandom gives him credit for.

He has an interesting conflict between arrogance based on title and humbleness. He knows he wants to be the best but he never airs it-- like when Rasa suggests that he wants to be the leader for Humanity but he grows quiet and says to just focus on where things are at right now.

His time as a soldier absolutely affected him in ways I think sharpened him to the killer he became. It instilled values that remained with him in Cerberus, such as when he berates Bates for abandoning his squad and calls him a traitor. Kai doesn't betray-- he's quite literally ride or die.

Also? The ninja sword is super dumb because Kai is Chinese and the swords and Phantom's themselves are designed to appear Japanese in aesthetic. Ninjas= Japanese, but China did have their own sect of Assassins which I believe gave birth to Wu Ching as a type of Martial Arts? Or was drawn from it hmm

To keep to accuracy, Kai would have trained more towards their martial art techniques which focuses on close combat and quick movements, as well as the use of dual blades called butterfly swords (You'd likely recognize them as a set of rogue daggers).

That's all for that meta! Phew. If anyone actually read to the end, hey wassup, hope you enjoyed, and take most of this with a grain of salt since it's my headcanons and background work :) Thank you again for reading!

#my meta #kai leng #anon #asks #PHEW #THAT TOOK A WHILE #HAHAH #dan hyun shepard #mass effect #meta

57 notes · View notes

pyrrhiccomedy · 3 years

Text

the People have requested my book report on The Library at Mt. Char so this is now a Mt Char book club.

if you have not read The Library at Mt Char there is no reason to keep reading. I hope you're having a nice day, stay safe and don't do drugs.

So Mt Char has a couple of problems, but in my opinion only one grave problem.

Not a grave problem:

Erwin doesn't need to be in this book. An astonishing amount of ink is spilled on giving us Erwin's POV and I am at a loss in regards to what that's supposed to bring to the story. I mean, it's kind of neat to see Carolyn's "trick shot" from the POV of one of the people being manipulated, but that perspective could have just been provided by Steve. Everything Erwin does of any plot significance could have been done by Steve, a character who actually matters.

Please note that I don't hate Erwin, he's perfectly fine as characters go, he just contributes nothing, and it is baffling that he and Carolyn get the last scene in the book (instead of just ending on her reunion with Michael, a scene that was emotionally affecting and felt like a natural end point to her story). We are taking no questions, Erwin needed to be cut.

Also not a grave problem in my opinion, but I am sure others feel differently and I understand why they would:

Yo, the scope of what the catalogs cover is mad vague. I mean, I get that that's the point: when you have a character whose magic powers are "anything that has to do with death or murder," that's a broad license, and I'm fine with that. These are supposed to be demi-gods. I don't require a rigorously explicated magic system.

But then like...why can't Jennifer, the healer, also heal minds? That seems weird. Or like, it's implied that she kinda can, maybe, but none of the kids talk about their therapy sessions with Jennifer: they explicitly call out that she heals their bodies. But then she talks about how Margaret and David are sick (meaning mentally) in a way she can "no longer help?" Aren't you supposed to be the God Of Healing? Why can't you help anymore? And were you actually trying to help them before - or anyone else? That's never shown. You could have just said you only healed bodies, not minds, but then it's repeatedly implied that she CAN diagnose mental and emotional problems (and therefore should probably be able to do something about them).

So that's weird.

Or like, why is there Alicia, who "sees the future," and Rachel, who "sees possible futures?" That, uh, just sounds like the author was running out of ideas. Also, if Alicia could see the future, she probably shouldn't have been in that house when the SWAT team hit, yeah?

Stuff like that. The magic the kids can do is very "they have the powers the author needs them to have when the author needs them to have them, and they can't do anything the author would find inconvenient for them to do" but that's not a deal breaker for me because overall the vibe being put off by their various magical specialties works for me. Still, there were ways of getting us where we needed to go without begging quite so many questions.

Also not a grave problem, although more of a problem than the other stuff:

You know that anime trope where a super-genius character is having an entire conversation with another super-genius character through a screen, and it's revealed that the whole conversation was a distraction and pre-recorded so that Character 2 could Complete His Scheme against Character 1? And used his super-genius brain to predict every single thing Character 1 would say? And your suspension of disbelief staggers bloodied into the alleyway and collapses because you're really trying to hang in there, Code Geass, but that's fucking stupid, you're asking for me to believe that this character's intelligence is flat-out supernatural now and you've given me no reason why that should be?

That's how I feel about Carolyn, by the time she takes over the Library. Like, okay. The kids canonically have not even been at the Library long enough for any of them to master their catalogues except for Jennifer. None of them but Jennifer are masters of even their own subject.

Carolyn has been studying in secret from multiple catalogues - which is cool! I like how she slowly reveals over the course of the latter half of the book that she has powers from other people's specialties.

...But like...

She seems close to mastering her own catalogue. She is a competent healer and can raise the dead (Jennifer's catalogue). She can block attempts to read her mind, beats David in a fight, and understands how to kill Father (David's catalogue). She speaks lion and controls the dogs that surround the Library (Michael's catalogue). She could make the mathy "Denial That Rends" thing that kicks off the whole plot, and she can make a new sun and correct orbital rotations around it (Peter's catalogue). She can predict the future with such specificity that she knows how to cause Steve to drop a clip of bullets while he's being attacked by dogs exactly where Erwin will need to pick it up later (Rachel's catalogue, also this one is stupid, she could have just given Erwin an extra clip or something, but whatever).

That's half the catalogues. Carolyn doesn't seem prodigiously more intelligent than the other kids. She's smart, sure, but they're all weird demi-gods with a genius for their specialties. The rest of them haven't even mastered their own catalogue, and I'm supposed to swallow that Carolyn has attained 'competent or better' status in six? When she has to research five of them in secret? Without falling behind in her own studies?

It would be fine if they had all been masters of their own catalogues for years and years; that would mean they would begin to stagnate, while Carolyn kept learning. But that's not the case. By the end I wasn't impressed anymore at Carolyn's resourcefulness, it just felt like she could do anything and everything, shh, don't ask questions, she's the Chosen One so she just can.

The reason this isn't a grave problem to me is because Carolyn's journey isn't about becoming more powerful: it's about her emotional journey, which isn't affected by her being stupidly OP for no reason by the end of the book. She still sucked at the things that mattered, like "feelings" and "relationships" and "not being a shitty person." But I do think it hurt the story. I should be cheering on my protagonist when her wild schemes come together, not rolling my eyes.

Anyway. All that was the aperitif. Let's talk about

THE GRAVE AND GLARING PROBLEM AT THE CENTER OF MT CHAR.

So everything that happens in the book stems from Carolyn's thoroughly justified hatred of Father (and David, but David was made that way by Father). Father treated her, and all of the other kids, with extravagant cruelty. If you haven't read the book in a while, here's a sample of the kinds of things Father did to the kids, or, if David did them, that Father did nothing to prevent:

- Cooked David alive over 2 full days in a giant bronze bull (and made the rest of the kids bring the fuel)

- Put Michael's eyes out with a hot poker every night for 2 weeks (and made the rest of the kids watch)

- Murdered Margaret every few days, often in drawn-out and painful ways

- Made Rachel repeatedly give birth, raise the babies to about 9 months, then murder them with her own hands

- Allowed David to rape all 11 of the other kids (except Jennifer, probably because she was the healer and he wanted to stay on her good side)

- Allowed David to crucify, brutalize and rape Carolyn and Peter

- Gave Carolyn a loving new family for a year when she was nine years old (those two deer), then had David murder them in front of her and blame it on her for not remembering her homework well enough, then served the two deer at a feast to 'celebrate' her returning to the family

- Whippings, skinnings, and bone-breakings as standard disciplinary actions

Whoo-ee! Okay! We are talking about mythological cruelty. I am fine with this! The story takes place on a mythological scale. As outlandish as all of that is, the cruelty feels proportionate in a story about killing and replacing god. Father is cruel, indifferent, controlling, and alien. I have no questions, Carolyn please proceed with your revenge. We seemed on track for a tale in which Carolyn defeats Father, but in doing so she runs the risk of becoming him. Will she step back from the brink and retain her humanity after all of the trauma and brutality she's endured? Let's find out!

And then

and then.

Oh boy.

And then.

...It turns out, Father is a good guy after all.

And let me be clear: THIS IS NOT, IN AND OF ITSELF, A PROBLEM.

By the time you learn that Father is actually benevolent, and loved those kids, and cares about being a responsible steward to the world, and tried to leave the universe a better place than he found it, and genuinely regretted the suffering he inflicted on them when they were growing up, it feels kind of...natural? Like, I was surprised, but also not, because there were 90 pages of book left and Carolyn had already become god. This seemed like a thematically meaningful place to take the rest of the story.

It turns out Father was training Carolyn to replace him the entire time. He had to make her hate David because it was important that she "defeat a monster" on her path to becoming god. (It's not explained why she had to defeat a monster, but sure, okay; it's the kind of mythic feat that fits with the story we're in.)

Why did he choose Carolyn to be his successor? Well, originally he chose David, but David wasn't strong enough: every time Carolyn was the monster in David's story, she defeated him, and went on to rule the universe as an unspeakable tyrant. Since Carolyn always won, Father swapped their roles. He knew he had made the right choice when he put David into the bronze bull, and heard David begging for mercy: because when Carolyn had been the fated monster, she had never begged.

...Okay, so...hang on.

Hang on.

The only rule that we've established on "how to become god" is "you have to defeat a monster," right? I'll even grant you for free that it has to be a monster who is personally meaningful to you, although that part is never stated. Overcoming a great evil which has cast you down and abused you many times before, sure, okay.

...Why the FUCK did all that other awful shit have to happen??

I did not have this question when Father was just evil! That was a good enough explanation! But now that he's not evil, you HAVE TO EXPLAIN why he treated all of the kids so brutally!

Like dude you're GOD. If you need a monster for Carolyn, I'm sure you can make that happen without TORTURING CHILDREN FOR DECADES.

There didn't even need to be any other children! You could have two kids: the languages-kid, who is the chosen one (the chosen one has to be the languages-kid so they can read the Onyx Codex or whatever it was called at the end, the one written by Original God), and the war-and-murder kid, who is the monster. They could have just been forbidden to read the other codices, if it's important to you that your chosen one still prove her resourcefulness or whatever.

Why include all of the other kids??? It wasn't to give your chosen one a sense of family: Carolyn didn't feel close to any of them except for Michael (who I liked, but whose contribution to the plot was negligible).

Or keep the kids! But then why make them, and Carolyn, hate you?? You could just say, "Hey Carolyn, I am raising you to be my successor, you have to figure it out yourself because part of proving your worthiness is this kind of abstract, big-picture thinking, but I love you and whatever you end up deciding to do, just believe in yourself." And meanwhile you're off torturing the fated monster in order to get him piping hot and ready to be served.

Was the idea that Carolyn had to endure so much horror in order to prove she was 'tough enough' to be god?? Because that's not how trauma works! Kids who have been brutally traumatized are usually not made tougher by the experience! A fact that even the book understands, because 10 of the 12 kids are completely destroyed by their upbringing (I'm giving marginal exceptions to Michael and Carolyn herself).

And like

if Father doesn't have a good reason for having treated them so badly, the whole book falls apart!

Because getting revenge for that cruelty is Carolyn's whole motivation!

We are clearly supposed to feel okay about Father going to make a new universe at the end of the book: he's going with his cool tiger friend and that little girl with the connection to the elemental plane of joy who used to be the sun, he's happy to see Carolyn embracing compassion and kindness, which means he cares about compassion and kindness. He invented light and pleasure. Carolyn does nothing to try to stop him from going. He seems like a pretty good candidate for god. And I do feel okay with him leaving! I was convinced! Father is not evil after all!

But then you have! to explain! the abuse!!

It can be a throwaway line!! "Carolyn realized that everything she and her siblings went through had to happen the way it did, because [X]," embedded in the middle of a paragraph! That would have been enough! But I need an explanation!

"They were raised the way Father was raised himself" WHY? He was raised by the Emperor, an on-the-record awful fucking dude! Father proceeded to rule the universe in a far more benevolent way than the Emperor did, why would he feel like he had to raise his kids the way the Emperor raised him?

"Carolyn needed to overcome challenges on her path to godhood" how is TRAUMATIZING HER SO BADLY SHE ALMOST BECOMES INHUMAN - SOMETHING YOU WERE OSTENSIBLY TRYING TO PREVENT, see Steve being preserved as something that could give her hope, etc - A "CHALLENGE??"

Again, none of this is a problem if Father is just evil! YOU CHOSE to make him not evil! And that's fine!! I think it's a good choice for the story actually!! But then you have to, you have to, HAVE TO explain why all of that bad shit happened!

Because all of that bad shit is the reason Carolyn made there be a story.

And it turns out it doesn't make sense.

#the library at mount char

50 notes · View notes

nodameshield · 3 years

Text

how are we doing? have the tears dried yet? I know mine haven’t ::

let’s start light : research fellows count ! (also, lady, only ten years old? - I resent that).

Goh understands this?? he’s got a silly proud smile and it’s following Ash’s butchered storytelling??? love

research fellows count !

perfectly attainable dream

sure, go for it. (look at both of their supportive lil smiles, we love best friends)

we all know the scene that’s coming ahead, but I thought this was a beautiful demonstration of growth already on Goh’s side.

Listen before the sad part begins let us appreciate for a moment how Ash and Goh were smiling at EACH OTHER after the interview was over. cuties.

behold : the last frame we have of baby Sobble. I’m going to miss you, bean. thank you for everything<3 (he was so proud of his good deed as well!! my very heart)

just how fast the night changes, indeed.

Drizzle went through shock and pain at record speed and swiftly landed on anger - only to fall into ✨depression✨ just as quickly.

and then we just stayed there.

someone

(oh hey Cinderace ! good to see ya)

having

a rough morning

(I’m sorry, this scene was just fucking funny - the drama)

Cinderace’s proud big bro moment was just too sweet to leave out - let us not forget, he’s been a big bro since he was Raboot (and even as a temperamental Raboot, he was always gentle to Sobble). And now his baby bro has evolved as well. precious !

Goh handled this situation very maturely from the beginning. And here’s when the build up starts. He’s saying ‘hey, let me help you how I think you need to be helped” and he genuinely doesn’t mean any harm! naturally, his reaction is to help his Pokémon, in the way that has worked in the past.

but then he starts to understand maybe that’s not the best approach this time around.

and he’s ready to respect those new boundaries (of course, there’s no blame on Cinderace, either. Much like Goh, he - and everyone, really - was just trying to help in the way he thought was the best).

shoutout to the animation on this bit because Pikachu’s ears darting down was a delightful detail. Chloe’s expression and Grookey’s simmering down drove the point home as well.

ah, you coy little thing. Did you forget how your trainer almost left you behind because of how rebellious you were??? Because you made him feel as though you’d be better off without him?? (Cinderace has selective memory, you can’t change my mind, don’t be miss-leaded by the cuteness)

this build up was wonderful - we begin to hear all these reasons why, yeah? maybe he just wants to be alone.

maybe he’s still very afraid and careful of his surroundings, and his evolution made it worse? (he’d been popping up in random places in previous episodes, hiding, which was also great foreshadowing for this episode !)

maybe he’s cocooning himself until he’s ready to evolve again? (which, considering his disappointment and how badly he wanted to be Inteleon already, is a very plausible reason)

but Prof. Cerise gets it right when he says ‘we can’t really know for sure’ (which ties greatly with Goh’s upcoming scene) - is it your Drizzle’s quirk? are they all like this? who cares? Isn’t wonderful how he’s a living creature? how he’s got nuances and a personality? shouldn’t that be enough of a reason to look after him, and try to help him right now?

my child, still thinking he’s got to do everything on his own.

and these two are just like ????? Goh ??? watchu talking about ???

can you imagine how MUCH this moment means to him?? he was ready to keep going alone (it’s what he knows) and even when Ash and Chloe prove him, time and time again, that he’s not alone, there’s still something in Goh coded to believe others won’t care as much/won’t be there when he needs them. and that’s why he insists: I’ve got this. I can do it alone.

and, sure, but you don’t have to. that’s the beauty of friendship.

you tell him, Chloe. (actually, without Chloe calling him out, he might have taken longer to figure out where Drizzle was. so...) // but also, it gives us a glimpse into the fact that, while Goh might have felt very lonely, Chloe has been observing and caring for him - in her way - for a long minute as well.

my very point above.

HEY, LISTEN: he doesn’t know, either. he’s a child, words are hard, and you rotate along the four moods of childhood (happy, upset, scared, hungry (?)) and don’t ponder much on anything else because you are a child, there’s no emotional intelligence to speak of, no need for it, you’re being shaped by your environment and all the stimuli of the world being a new place. things like loneliness, confusion, anxiety... we can’t put those into words - hell, they’re fucking abstract and confusing even when we are adults.

and Goh’s stimuli and environment was, given what we know of his family life, a rather lonely one. Did his parents have a lot of spare time to take him to the park? I don’t think so. Was he good at going out there and asking other kids to play? ... probably not.

Chloe doesn’t strike me as an extrovert, either, so even if she wanted to get close to Goh or invite him to hang out, perhaps she was too shy as well. Heck, perhaps Goh’s reaction would’ve been like the one above, he simply didn’t know. Maybe he didn’t want to ! and that’s perfectly fine as well.

am I forgiving the anipoke team for making Goh cry? no, never. but this was beautifully executed so I can grow to live with it.

“why are you depressed?” “you have nothing to be sad about!” “look at all the wonderful things you have!” “just be happy again!” - sound familiar? yeah, this was incredibly well done.

as adults, perhaps we see this and think ‘shit, how cool that they’re prodding on these topics, it’s important’ and it is !!! so important !! but if it’s this impactful as young-adults/grown-ups, imagine how impactful it must be as a child to see this and feel perceived. I’m honestly so proud of this moment, this whole episode. I’m grateful they took the time to look into this maturely. and even if children don’t do a full-fledged analysis on it, if they relate (like I know so many of us did) they won’t forget it. and that’s beautiful.

darling I’m blanking on your TW handle I’m so sorry - but someone in a tweet SO RIGHTFULLY pointed out that these are the words Goh would have needed to hear when he was younger. saying them to Drizzle it’s a full circle moment for him, he’s hearing them as well, and it’s helping both of them grow.

He’s not forcing himself as Drizzle’s trainer. Goh bears no entitlement here. He’s saying ‘Hey, if you’re comfortable, if you want to share , I’ll be here’ / as a kid, people did care for him, they kept wanting to know what was going on, but Goh couldn’t put that in words and people pestering him only made it worse, but if someone had said ‘hey, when you’re ready...’ then,,,,yeah,,,,maybe it would’ve been different.

he’s offering that safety now to his Pokémon, something he didn’t have, but he grew to understand is what he (and now Drizzle) needed. If that doesn’t have you breaking down in a teary mess then you are stronger than I’ll ever be, because my glasses were cloudy by this point.

why, why, why. because you needed to hear all that as well, baby! so did a number of us. thank you.

I’ll say that, however it was that you connected with this moment, that’s yours to cherish.

Personally, I too had a lonely childhood marked by parents who overworked, and I too spent a lot of time alone in kindergarten and through elementary school because it was hard to make friends (turns out i’m an extrovert, ha, talk about breaking out of your shell...) so, obviously there were easy common grounds for me in this episode.

but I LOVED to read the reactions and realize so many people still connected with it, one way or the other. So many of us felt seen and understood and acknowledged in emotions that are so hard to put into words !!

so, again, if you identified with Goh or Drizzle or any of the topics in this episode, that’s very beautiful, and I hope the underlying message that you’re not alone gets through.

With Sobble, and now with Drizzle as well, Goh is very adamant to remind us that, however we are, that’s fine. there’s something that makes us special, regardless of other people’s opinions, or their ideas of how we *should be* // that’s the message I’m taking with me, at least.

and i can’t wait to see how this story line evolves !! I have no doubts that, when the moment comes, Inteleon will be a wonderful addition to the team, but Drizzle is here now, and he’s plenty wonderful already x

Bonus:

ha ha, yes. I watched this episode three times. And all three times I was a mess.

side note but a very important one: the animation, the voice acting, the dialog, the scenery of the starry night - the entire scene was so beautifully executed. so carefully crafted. ugh, amazing. just perfect. so happy.

#all right this took forever #if you are still reading thank you #anipoke #pokemon journeys #ep 62 #we won't be forgetting this one now will we #journeyshipping #Pokémon Journeys: The Series #SatoGou #Firstfriendshipping #Goh #satoshi #Chloe #ngl Chloe was the mvp #calling Goh out on his bs #we love to see her #Goh I'm so proud of you #please keep growing #you're beautiful and i love you

96 notes · View notes

representshinjuku · 2 years

Text

Akabane vs Asakusa (Part 1)

(Note: This song has no officially released lyrics and has been translated entirely by ear. May contain errors.)

[Saragi]

Asakusa’s naught but research material

Guinea pigs dancing atop the palm of my hand

The moment we begin it’s checkmate

Before you can make a move it’s game set

[Doshiro]

Ha? Don’t make me laugh you psycho

You think I’m listenin’ to your fake ‘science’?

I was born to Represent Shitamachi

While your rhymes are still amateur

[Kokuri]

You’ve got spirit but you’re still nothing but a kid

Those bratty lines are all within expectations

I’m gonna take this narrow stage

And build your gallows

[Masamune]

You act big but you’re just a moron

I’ve already seen through you

If you haven’t figured it out, Akabane

That just means you’re stupid after all

[Kazu]

No matter the enemy I’ll rout them out

Because my opponent is him alone

I have no time to use on weaklings

There’s no room for you here

The sights we see aren’t even close

Hell’s rules polished our skills

Not enough! Give me some more

This is your grave Asakusa

[Jinpachi]

Can’t stand watchin’ you overconfident fools

Acting all strong when you’re really just chicken

Just admit you’re scared to shit of losing

We’re just scared of ending up like you

No matter how many times we might fall

When we’re together we rise back up

Trust in our bonds and drive the rest out

We won’t let you take a step through Kaminarimon

Hosen: Have you exhausted yourselves?

Abusaki: How foolish. You never realized you were tangled within the Spider’s Thread.

Hosen: Let us go. Everything as the Spider’s Thread guides us.

Itonokai Members (all): Everything as the Spider’s Thread guides us.

(The Itonokai members attack Akabane and Asakusa)

Hosen: Quite impressive. All of you are rather tough.

Kazu: You… What do you all want?

Hosen: We are the Itonokai. We who will end the Party of Word’s reign and lead the people to salvation… The chosen ones!

Kazu: Itonokai?

Hosen: In order to achieve our objectives, we need capable soldiers. In order to gain your power, we pretended to be your friends.

Jinpachi: Sounds about right. I always thought you were fishy. No one who says they love Asakusa looks at it with such filthy eyes!

Abusaki: Filthy eyes? Shut your mouth, you vulgar snob!

Hosen: There are two roads prepared before you. Obey us and strive for paradise, or fall into hell here and now.

Jinpachi: Don’t fuck with me, bastard. Who the hell would choose you?

Hosen: You’re already worn to pieces from this fight. None of you can continue to resist us. Isn’t that right?

Kokuri: Damn! I’m running on empty!

Saragi: So this was your aim in having us fight?

Doshiro: You don’t have the guts to take us in a fair fight!?

Abusaki: Don’t get ahead of yourselves. We are the chosen ones, granted power by our leader, Oogumo Danjyo. You lowly strays can’t possibly be a true match for us.

Hosen: If you come with us, I swear to you that you can attain great power, too!

Kazu: Power?

Hosen: Now, make your choice. Will it be paradise? Or will it be hell?

Kazu: I’ll gain strength.

Hosen: Well then--

Kazu: One that doesn’t oppress anyone. A true strength.

Hosen: You bastard. So you don’t want power after all?

Kazu: No, I want it. But I was taught just what it really means to be strong. If you conceal your true nature in order to attack your enemies, that’s not real strength! I’ve got no need for fake power anymore.

Kokuri: That’s our boss for ya.

Saragi: We’ll have to show you just who the ‘vulgar’ ones here are.

Jinpachi: Hey, Akabane’s young man. Despite how you look, you’ve got real guts. We’re not losin’ either!

Masamune: Yeah! Don’t underestimate Asakusa!

Doshiro: I’ll carve our answer into your faces!

Hosen: You fools! We’ll demonstrate the Itonokai’s power to you!

[Saragi]

Whatever you might do is nothing but a cheap trick

I’ll topple you all with this Mic

[Kokuri]

I’ve seen how this plays out

By the time you get it you’re down for the count

[Doshiro]

You’re way too old for dirty tricks

I’ll fight fair and square against you losers

[Masamune]

If you can take this much I’ll pay out

But once you take this business is gonna collapse

[Kazu]

I’ll choke out all the fakers now

An unjust victory means nothing

I’ll bring my ideals to life

And you have no escape

[Jinpachi]

True that we can’t stop

Once the target’s marked there’s no escape

If your plan’s just to use people

I’ll destroy you all

#rule the stage #flava edition #aad live #north bastard #onigawara bombers #akabane vs asakusa #hypstagetl #koutranslates

4 notes · View notes

insomniacowl · 3 years

Text

Neon Genesis Evangelion analysis chapter 21: Kaji Ryoji Lies and Silence

Hi, it's been a while. I'm sorry I disappeared for 5 months while working on the graduate thesis. From now on I will try to upload once every two weeks at 7pm on Saturday.

From here on out, the analysis will focus on the important characters of Evangelion with 15 chapters left to go. Thank you for your patience so far and I hope you all stick with me for the remainder of the ride.

Also, I realized that Tumblr now allows maximum of 10 photos a post, so I am thinking of moving or co-posting on a different site. I'll update all of you when that happens

================================================

Sakiel: The third angel, the first real opponent of Nerv. A portion of voice recordings of the battle attained

Shamel: The fourth angel, visual data gathered and backed up. Will send recordings of Unit – 01's battle against it.

Ramiel: The fifth angel, portion of remains attained and analyzed. Will send information about AT field.

Gagiel: The sixth angel, visual confirmation. Information attained from the UN. Will send information along with Unit – 02's battle data.

Israphel: The seventh angel, visual confirmation, will send data through channel 11-B. Attained sample of material composition

Sandalphon: The eight angels, confirmation through a still image. No further information

Matarael: The ninth angel, visual confirmation. Used the blackout to obtain a sample.

Sahaquel: The tenth angel, photographed attained. Will enter into the database through channel 57-F

Ireul: The eleventh angel, visual confirmation, data erased by Nerv. Will retrieve physically and send them over.

Reriel: The twelfth angel. Unit – 01 went berserk again

Bardiel: The thirteenth angel. Data attained from Mitsushiro facility

Zeruel: The fourteenth angel, visual confirmation. Unit – 01 went berserk. Will send video data.

---Excerpt from "The memos of Kaji Ryoji."

"2015: the Last Year of Ryoji Kaji" was written by the head scriptwriter Yamaguchi Hiroshi and was published in 1997. It contains Kaji's observations of various Incidents and set pieces in the series. It is not anything too particular; however, the fresh perspective Kaji's writings provide makes this an essential material in our understanding of the world of Evangelion. The excerpts mentioned above are essential proof of Kaji's identity as a spy and prove that the blackout during Matarael's attack was deliberately caused by Kaji and Seele.

Furthermore, it explains how Seele had attained information regarding Iruel's existence and its attack on the Nerv facility, even when Nerv/Gendou tried to hide this fact.

The memo above seems to be the observation of Nerv and the angels made by Kaji. While Kaji officially belongs under the Japanese government's command, as we have covered in Chapter 17, the Japanese government is unaware of Lilith's existence. It, therefore, has a different numbering system from Nerv and Seele.

Adding on to this point, the public in the world of Evangelion is unaware of the existence of Lilith. High-ranking Nerv officials such as Misato are aware of Lilith only as of the cause of the First impact and no more. Thus we can deduce that Kaji made the memo while he was on Seele's side, considering that he knew about Lilith in detail. But Kaji never once wholly and permanently sided with any organization. Like how his main character trait is a "flirt," he is never loyal to any organization, just like how he is perceived to be with women; two, perhaps three-timing.

Kaji: You've lost weight

Ritsuko: Are you flirting with me? Stop. A scary-looking friend is watching.

However, it is wrong to say that Kaji was a cheater by any means. His heart belonged only to Misato, and she was the one he trusted the most. His flirting with Ritsuko and Maya made others view him as a superficial person and did not take him too seriously. This got some eyes off his back. This would have given him more freedom to act in achieving his goals (but also, it might have been fun to get Misato jealous in a playful way).

Kaji: Not like you are going to repay that. I added some dummy information in case.

Now, let's take a closer look at Kaji's actions throughout the series. He makes his first appearance in episode 7, having a phone call with Gendou discussing the Jet Alone (JA) program. Because JA was developed as a competition to the Evangelion projects, its implementation would have caused Nerv's authority to weaken and jeopardize the HIP. Making it a top priority to prevent its further development. Minus the actions taken by Misato, the proceedings of JA going berserk and being miraculously fixed were likely a scenario manufactured by Gendou.

Kaji: it has been restored up to this point. It is frozen in a thick layer of bayclade, but it is alive.

The key to the HIP

We first see his face in episode 8 on a new mission: Transporting Adam and Unit – 02 to Nerv headquarters. He likely attained Adam's body in Germany, stealing it under the nose of our dear old friend Keel. The question is, how did he do it? We will never know the details, but we know that Seele's projects that required Adam were complete at this point (Creation of Evas and Tabris). They may not have had much use or concern for the leftovers. Since Adam's fetal form is small, it would have been easy to swap the original for a copy before he left. Of course, this would not have gone unnoticed for long, and it did not.

In episode 10, we see Kaji talking to an unknown woman about the initiation of protocol A-17. It appears to be a measure that limits and shrinks Nerv's authority and freeze their funds. Just like the JA plan, it shows the hostility of the Japanese government towards Nerv. Because Nerv and Seele are still on agreeable terms, Kaji is seen as a double spy between Nerv and the Japanese government. But in episode 11, the Nerv blackout happens. With clues spread over the episode pointing to Kaji as the culprit with Seele's support, we begin to see him in action as a triple spy.

The reason why Kaji undertook such a dangerous role is to get closer to the "Truth." Upon realizing the Japanese government's imbecility, he begins to walk the rope between Nerv and Seele to seek the truth.

Kaji: Is that an angel? This is not the time to be doing my job

We first see him in action in episode 13 while the HQ was distracted defending against Ireul. Here we see him collecting information around the central dogma. While doing so, Kaji notices the angel while passing through the passage in level 28 and hears the announcement that the "Sigma unit (the Eva simulation chamber) will be shut off in 60 seconds. Bearing in mind that Magi is located in level 40 and that a lower number refers to a deeper level, we can see that Kaji has already infiltrated deep into the complex. As central dogma and Lilith were information that Nerv and Seele wanted to keep secret, this infiltration was likely Kaji's initiative. With the same logic, we can also say that the information he gathered regarding the Marduk institution in episode 15 was his individual action as well.

Later in the episode, he is found by Misato as he was trying to infiltrate the central dogma. But Kaji does not seem surprised by this fact and opens the door without hesitation. What they see on the other side was the white giant Lilith. However, we hear Kaji refer to it as Adam. Why? There are two possible explanations for this. First is that Kaji knew that it was Lilith but deliberately lied to Misato.

This explanation is weak at best. It contradicts the characterization of Misato being the only woman Kaji trusts. Further, it contradicts the portrayal of their relationship in the following episodes. It is also difficult to explain why Kaji would distinguish between Adam and Lilith in his explanation to Misato.

The other possible explanation is that Kaji believed this to be Adam, and I am personally more convinced of this explanation. As we have seen in an earlier episode, Kaji passed on the Adam sample to Gendou. Both were fully aware of what he has gotten into his hands (puns perhaps intended). Then why did Kaji believe that it was Adam in central dogma? He likely at this moment believed that the white giant was the manifestation of the Adam sample that he stole. Although it looked different, Kaji, who saw Sandalphon transforming at an unbelievable speed, would have drawn parallels.

Kaji's misunderstanding is also supported by the secretiveness of the existence of Lilith. The information being top-secret accessible only to the Gendou and Seele. Even when Gendou referred to Adam as "The first man," it could be him trying to misdirect Kaji on the identity of the white giants. Although the reason for this secretiveness is not apparent, we know that Seele was ashamed of their status as the descendent of Lilith, this being the reason for conducting the ritual of atonement.

The HIP Seele type is, in essence, based on the feeling of perceived inferiority against the Adam-based angels. Thus it can explain away why Seele would want to keep the project a secret from the public. Even without such reasons, Lilith's identity as a being in the same caliber of existence as Adam might have created a need to keep her locked away and kept secret. This to minimize unnecessary friction and interference in their plans by other organizations.

To add on, let's touch on the strange phrase written on the container of Adam's sample that Kaji brought over. "Who is you? He is living. Why?". There are no explanations given regarding this phrase. It is likely written by one of the researchers in the german facility that was studying this sample. Being the only remaining Adam sample that seemed alive with the absence of a soul, it would have been baffling to look at it.

This lie about the identity of Adam and Lilith is a recurring motif. In the earlier chapters discussing the angels' identity, I have mentioned that due to the enemies being the "Angels," Evangelion fundamentally rejects the narrative of Good triumphing over Evil. During one of the sequences in the opening song, there is a frame reading "ADAM," and it is unique as it is the only one that is black words with a white background. This likely foreshadows the fact that information regarding Adam that we receive is different, thus, at some level, inaccurate or lies.

Either way, the truth of the White giant's identity is revealed near the end of the series. The audiences are made aware of it through the exposition of Tabris. For Miasto, she receives this truth from Kaji along with all the information and data he collected by himself. Through this 'Truth,' we can infer what Kaji wanted to protect and what his 'will' was. This 'will' to live is passed on from Kaji to Misato, from Misato to Shinji, and influences his decision during the end of Evangelion.

Kaji: Shinji, the only thing that I can do right now is to water these plants. And as much, there are things that only you are capable of accomplishing right now. No one is going to force you to do anything. Think for yourself. Decide for yourself. Determined what it is that you need to do right now.

So that you will not end up in regrets.

The alliance between Gendou and Seele began to show signs of schisms in episode 19 after Unit – 01 consumed Zeruel's S2 engine and became a being as though god. This was more in line with the plan of Gendou, who sought for the creation of a new god, the material conditions misaligning from Seele's plans of atoning for the sin of Lilith. Kaji was very much likely to have been aware of all this. When the schisms showed, Kaji had to choose the side he had to stand with. He seemed to have concluded that Nerv is closer to the truth that he wanted. Therefore he ended up helping Gendou achieve his version of the HIP.

I say this as Kaji played a crucial role in convincing Shinji to return and pilot Unit – 01 during the battle against Zeruel. Afterward, Kaji released Fuyutsuki, who was kidnapped by Seele, and began his pro-Nerv strategies. This leads up to his assassination by Seele's orders. To borrow Seele's words, "The bell around Gendou's neck lost its will to ring."

Fuyutsuki: Is that you Kaji?

Kaji: It's been a while.

Fuyutsuki: You will lose your life if you do this.

Kaji: I am just heading towards the truth that I believe in.

Let me talk a little more about his death. In episode 21 of the renewal version, an additional line was spoken: "They found out that I handed over Adam's sample to Gendou." This draws a line connecting the importance of Adam's Sample in Kaji's death and its role in the HIP.

Regarding the Assassin identity, due to the scene of Misato's grief being placed right after Kaji's death in "Death and Rebirth," some believed that it was Misato killed Kaji. One of the rare things that Anno came forward and cleared up was that Kaji's assassin was an unnamed individual that we do not see ever on screen. An additional argument made by those suspecting Misato as the culprit claims the evidence of interlaying of Misato's apartment door label right after the gunshot. This was later removed in the renewal version.

Kaji: No one can understand another person to a full extend. They can't even understand themselves.

But that is why people try their best to understand the other.

And that is what makes life such a fun experience.

Many of what Kaji says touches on the critical messages of Evangelion. It is also why I am starting off this section, the analysis of characters with Kaji; understanding Kaji is integral to understanding the series as a whole. He loved Misato but could not tell her his true feelings during the happiness of reunion after eight years. This was likely the greatest form of love that he could have given her, knowing that he is close to his death. The reason for Kaji's obsession with the truth and the sufferings he experienced in the past is fleshed out in detail in the comics version. He was orphaned as a consequence of the Second impact. After a failed attempt at stealing food from the military base, all of his friends were killed, leaving him alive and questioning the reason for their suffering and death. Kaji sought to avenge his friends by understanding why the Second impact happened.

But even without going into the details, we can try and understand the pain and suffering he went through as the generation living after the Second impact. Yet, his general attitude towards life and his ability to call living to be fun is his unique charm. He even managed to have a smile on his face while looking at the face of his death. His smile was not a forced fake that he made to mask his fear of death; he has probably smiled from the bottom of his heart.

Yo. You're late

Because he would have already reached the truth that he worked so part to attain.

TBC Chapter 22: Katsuragi Misato Part 1 With a cross in hand

#Neon genesis evangelion #Evangelion #Eva #End of Evangelion #Nge #Nagisa Kaworu #Lilith #Sci-fi #Ikari Shinji #Soryu Asuka Langley #Asuka #Ayanami Rei #rei #Anno Hideaki #Katsuragi Misato #Kaji Ryoji #Anime #Analysis #Review

51 notes · View notes

imcreatingchaos · 3 years

Text

Biology 101: We kill nuance, not kids.

Yesterday we had biology class on zoom and were just ending the lesson on reproduction. So far it was going perfectly fine and dandy. Reproductive systems? Fine. STD’s? Acceptable. Menstrual cycles? Annoying to learn but whatever.

Abortions?? Let’s teach kids the most biased shit ever in the name of morality.

Honestly I don’t know where to begin with how misinformed the lecture was (and my brain is too tired to make coherent sentences) but I’ll try my best because I really need to rant right now or I fear I might lose it.

Basically, my teacher began the lecture about sensitive topics as she normally does with the promise that she’ll be as unbiased and objective as possible.

Yeah it was fucking objective alright. Because the only thing I felt like in that class was a fucking object.

Anyway, we started off with a couple of points.

Family must help the mother (especially emotionally) because she could be going through postpartum depression.

I don’t disagree too much with this except the fact that you should expect help from your family. Because I don’t think you should. Especially if you do jack shit to help them before and suddenly expect everyone who shares one percent of DNA with you to treat you like their personal Jesus. However this is not too much of a disagreeable point and I do realize that some families are close to each other so I’ll let it pass even though I hate babysitting.

Yeah, that’s the only agreeable point. Brace yourselves people.

“If you are aborting a baby by three months you are actually aborting a human being. You’re simply destroying the life of an innocent, living thing.” (It’s a fucking fetus, lady. And you’re our fucking biology teacher).

“The heartbeat can be detected even at the fourth week. (And??? So could the chicken you ate for dinner yesterday but we aren’t gonna talk about that, are we? Are you sure it’s the heartbeat you care about). So we are killing it, and that is not an acceptable thing.”

“You aren’t children anymore. You are sexually mature so you have to be responsible for what you’re doing. Attaining puberty means you are capable of bearing a child, therefore you should be responsible for your body. But in search of certain things, like love and romance, you may end up doing inappropriate things instead (just call it premarital sex, woman. We all know that’s what you mean). Whether it is appropriate or not you should ask yourself. Don't fall into a situation where you’ll have to kill an innocent baby.”

She went on a bit and ranted to herself for a while because half the class were probably asleep on their screen and the other half didn’t want to lose marks by saying something stupid like pointing out the hypocrisy of her words.

Then she told us about this story she read from somewhere and the fetus shaped snowball only got bigger until it rolled further downhill and destroyed more lives.

Basically, it was about a mother who had a one year old child and by chance, suddenly got pregnant again (an unplanned pregnancy, if you will). She went to the hospital for a month to try to get the doctor to abort the baby. The doctor tells her that the abortion can lead to certain medical conditions that can threaten her life because the remnants can stay inside her body and lead to a cancer (please can someone tell me if this is possible. I’ve done some research and it seems the only time abortions end up being deadly is when they’re done incorrectly. I’ll appreciate any solid research that supports the point in the story as long as it’s credible). The mother said no because it was getting hard to afford for the baby she already has.

And you know what the fucker did? He passive aggressively offered to kill the existing baby because “that’s exactly the same thing you’re asking me to do with the human inside you. It doesn’t make a difference whether you can see and feel the baby or not because they are both the same.”

Excuse me, what the actual fuck? Are you really trying to tell me the translucent reptile- parasite is the same thing as a breathing, walking baby? Did all the doctors suddenly miss child development classes or are they that deep into their pro-birth stance that everything inside a female suddenly starts looking human.

So obviously as all Dhar Mann stories go, the mother finally realized the errors of her ways and decided to carry out the pregnancy instead.

Yeah. That was something alright.

Then she went on about how she had a friend back in a levels who managed to get herself pregnant with her boyfriend’s child. Eventually she dropped out of school and didn’t end up doing the exam (which is really important if you’re trying to find a company to hire you) and got married to her boyfriend as soon as she turned eighteen. She’s currently living happily ever after with the ever increasing inflation rates. The end.

I mean, the core story wasn’t too bad since it’s more or less realistic but my god the theatrics she put in between were unbearable. She literally said that had she aborted, she would appear innocent to everyone else but guilty inside, because she would be a murderer and liar, and live with the knowledge of killing her “child” forever.

Yeah. Definitely not pressured into keeping it.

I actually feel sorry for that woman because our teacher confessed they used to bitch behind her back for “ruining the reputation of their school” (though now they are okay with it since they realized how much she sacrificed for the baby).

Anyway, after forty five years of preaching we got this precious video.

https://youtu.be/WKv5ABgqPTw. (Be careful because it’s a bit disturbing and bloody. Don’t watch if you feel uncomfortable with that).

I do have a few more things to say. Mainly about how pro-birthers preach about adoption and don’t even look into it because they want their genes to spread (there’s obvious defects of the system but no adult has brought them up whenever I ask them why they didn’t adopt so yes I’m bitching about their logic) but I don’t want to go on for that long so I’ll stop here.

I’m truly sorry for the excessive sarcasm guys. I’m just mad that we weren’t given solid facts instead of anecdotes, and about how abortion is literally banned here but no effort is being made to teach kids about birth control (dedicated half a page to be precise).

I’m also super pissed that someone was probably influenced by this lecture and now thinks that motherhood is the end all for every walking uterus (because let’s face it, that’s exactly how they see us).

Side note:- I’m sorry for making this so long. I wanted to include everything because if I didn’t I might unconsciously pick out the worst parts and make my teacher look even more judgmental than she is. Not that she isn’t. I just didn’t want to be biased.

#child free #sarcasm #conservatism #pro birth #abortion #life rant #education system #swearing cw

12 notes · View notes

murdereraisuha · 4 years

Text

Actually, Jamil is Snow White

Now that I have your attention with my batshit theory, let me explain it along with my other predictions for the future events of chapter 5 in a 2,500+ word mess of an essay.

The past chapters have all correlated to the plot of the original Disney movie in some way. So how does chapter 5 correlate with Snow White? For the movie's story, it starts with Snow White living with her stepmother, who is vain, self-centered, and afraid that one day Snow White will surpass her beauty. The Queen makes efforts to suppress Snow White's beauty by making her a scullery maid, but Snow White does eventually surpass her. This causes the Queen to order her Huntsman to kill Snow White, but the Huntsman can't bring himself to do it and he presents the queen with a decoy heart instead.

What's interesting about TWST is that Neige has already surpassed Vil at the very beginning. Furthermore, rather than focus solely on his own beauty and beat down potential rivals, Vil attempts to nurture the beauty of the rest of his dorm and the VDC team. So how in the world do we correlate the events of the chapter to the original movie? Well, we know from previous chapters that the person twisted from a character might not be the one to actually take that character's role in the story. Though Farena exists, the one Leona tries to sabotage is Malleus. Though Rielle exists, the one Azul makes a special deal with is Yuu. Even though Neige has played a bigger part in the story so far compared to Farena and Rielle, he still might not actually be the Snow White of this story. So who are our possible candidates here?

As the person meant to rival Neige's cute appeal, Epel is the first one to pop into mind. Perhaps the NRC team's performance during the VDC goes well enough that Epel suddenly gets tons of popularity. The internet latches onto him, so much so that, at least temporarily, he ends up surpassing both Vil and Neige in Mira's beauty calculation. However, this wouldn't make sense. The Queen is supposed to hate and sabotage the Snow White, and Vil has no reason to do that to Epel after spending so much effort helping him with the express goal of having him beat out Neige. So who else?

While browsing Pixiv one night, I came across a funny comic (it was long ago enough that I don't remember how to find it again, unfortunately) where Azul actually did livestream Jamil's evil monologue in chapter 4. Rather than becoming a big scandal though, it actually becomes famous because of how good-looking Jamil is, so much so that Vil finds out about it because Jamil's name is the one Mira tells him when Vil does a beauty check. Vil proceeds to change his plans for the VDC by dumping Epel and choosing Jamil as the sole main vocal so that Jamil is his "poison apple" against Neige instead.

With the recent update, Vil's plan for the VDC is officially finalized, so that comic is firmly in AU territory. However, what if something similar happens? The NRC team's performance goes amazing. However, it is not Vil or Epel that gain attention, but Jamil, the 3rd main vocalist. Against Vil and everyone else's expectations and plans, the internet goes wild over this mysterious pretty boy, boosting Jamil into the position of most beautiful. Even Neige had to spend some amount of time getting gigs and whatever to attain his fame, but Jamil has done basically nothing outside the VDC and now he's suddenly the best... How would Vil feel about that?

With the whole trend of the previous overblot causing the next, this theory of Jamil = Snow White makes sense. Though they could always make it so it's Neige and Epel doing the stuff and then at the end Jamil delivers a speech or something that gives the final push to overblot, it would be a lot more interesting (and funny) for Jamil to be thrust into the spotlight earlier on and be a main reason for Vil's overblot.

However, all of this assumes that the beginning of Snow White correlates with the beginning of chapter 5. Let's consider that the beginning of chapter 5 actually correlates with the situation later in the movie when the Queen is plotting to get Snow White with the poison apple. In this situation, Neige would actually be the Snow White of the story. However, unless we pull some funky timeline stuff, the theory I've seen of Rook betraying Vil wouldn't happen then, since we're already past that point in the movie. So what is next? In the movie, Snow White bites the apple and falls asleep. The dwarfs return to their cottage and chase the Queen, who eventually falls to her death when a lightning bolt destroys the precipice she's cornered on. (Fun fact from Wikipedia, her scream while falling was reused for Sleeping Beauty when Maleficent gets stabbed by the Sword of Truth). Anyway, the dwarfs proceed to put Snow White in the glass coffin until a year later when the prince kisses her and takes her to his castle.

Welp, look here, we have the dwarves in TWST, so they could definitely fulfill the try to hurt Vil part here. But what would lead them to do that? Assuming that as RSA students they are heroic, they would hurt Vil if they felt that he had hurt Neige. Vil's plan for the VDC competition seems to just be performing like normal and hoping that their hard work and effort will shine through and win them the competition, so either something has to happen that causes a last-minute change to that plan or some sort of misunderstanding (Vil getting canceled) happens. How would a misunderstanding happen? It could originate from fans angry that Neige didn't win, but Vil has plenty of his own fans to counter that and make an even-sided battle. Some new falling out between Vil and Epel could occur, resulting in either Epel himself going and hurting Vil's reputation or someone else (the media or Neige) seeing Epel distraught and believing that Vil is abusing him in some way. If it's Neige that could be interesting since it'd kinda be a situation where Epel is Snow White and Neige is his Huntsman. Neige x Epel new otp??? haha anyway, there's also the possibility that the RSA students are not heroic, and the dwarves go and make rumors about Vil themselves as an underhanded strategy to give Neige the victory.

All this talk is making me forget about my boy Jamil though. How would he fit in here? Again, from the previous overblots, we know that Jamil will likely oppose Vil in some way. We have also established that this chapter 5's start = the Queen's poison apple plan's start, so Neige is the Snow White. The remaining roles for Jamil are the dwarves (unlikely since we have actual dwarves), the huntsman (unlikely since timeline and also Rook exists), and finally, the prince. Jamil x Neige new otp??? lmao anyway, What would this role mean for his involvement in the story? Well, the prince only shows up at the end to wake up Snow White, so that would make this a situation like I mentioned before with Jamil just showing up to do a speech or something that pushes Vil over the edge. Boring, what else could we do?

Well, what about the original fairy tale of Snow White? In there, the dwarves don't kill the Queen. Instead, she lives until the day of Snow White and the prince's wedding, where the prince makes her dance in red-hot slippers until she dies as punishment for trying to kill Snow White. Why would Jamil give enough of a shit about Neige to go against Vil like that though? Well, y'know what fuck it let's squeeze someone else into the role of Snow White. Kalim certainly has the hair color for it. Since Kalim is just one of the backup vocals and hasn't had much going on aside from his personal character development this chapter idk what Vil could possibly do to him. Perhaps something pertaining to his family's wealth and fame? Whatever it is, some sort of threat to Kalim would be enough motivation for Jamil to do something to Vil. Interaction between Kalim and Jamil would also serve to finish up whatever development is going on between them. Seriously bro I know Jamil was probably just stalking Kalim in that one episode to make sure he's safe but that scene is really haunting me WHAT DOES IT MEAN?

Whatever, let's keep this circus rolling with some Rook discussion! Again, we got the theory that Rook will betray Vil like the Huntsman betrayed the Queen. To discuss this idea, we gotta discuss Rook's motivations first. In episode 5-27, quoting from the translation on the wiki by Kanade Musings, Rook claims that "being a mere spectator to beautiful people and beautiful things provide [him] with such happiness" and he is "here to offer what help [he] can to help save beauty." However, he points out that "Vil does not need [Rook] to save him;" instead, what Rook wants "to protect is not Vil himself, but rather the 'beauty' he possesses." The chapter ends with Rook saying that the others would understand what he's saying if they encountered a "beauty that is blinding" and would "bring light to [their] lives."

So, with this information, would Rook betray Vil and why would he betray Vil? Well, there's the possibility that RSA's performance wows him and he switches to protecting Neige's beauty. However, this doesn't feel right to me. Neige is very famous. His first appearance was in a commercial that Cater got even when not specifically trying to find stuff on Neige. I would seriously doubt that Rook has not already done research into Neige and observed what beauty he has. If Rook doesn't already find Neige extraordinarily beautiful, I doubt that a single dance performance could transform his opinion of him. However, what if that was compounded by some loss of Vil's beauty? However, would Rook allow that to happen? He expressly said he wishes to protect Vil's beauty. If Vil lost beauty, would Rook really abandon him, or would he work to bring Vil back to his senses and restore his beauty?

Now, going back to the idea of Rook doing a betrayal, we already established way back at the beginning of this monstrosity (if you made it this far please take a hydration break or something alright? take care of yourself I love you) that Neige is not necessarily the Snow White of the story. So, we have the possibility of Rook turning against Vil on Epel's behalf, which... doesn't seem right. Idk it might be because I still just can't envision a scenario with Rook outright betraying Vil. Again, Rook has spent a bunch of time observing Epel and watching him grow. What could Epel possibly do that could mega boost his beauty in Rook's eyes? He's spent time observing Jamil too, though not as much as he observes some other people. Like, Rook is a hunter, extremely skilled at assessing targets and figuring out what makes them tick. For his opinion of someone to seriously change, it would require equally exceptional deception or change on the target's part. Seriously, why would he betray Vil?

Okay, how about we consider what exactly Rook finds beautiful. As we know from the auditions (ボーテ！100点！), Rook was able to find beauty in every person's performance, no matter how clumsy or unskilled they were. So, we get the sense that at the very least, Rook considers things beautiful that most people wouldn't consider beautiful. Then, what makes Vil beautiful to him? We know Vil is beautiful by normal person standards, but Rook doesn't go by normal person standards. Does Rook feel drawn to his determination? His power? Something we don't know about yet? I don't think we know for sure, so we don't know what it would take for Vil to lose beauty in Rook's eyes.

Well, there's a part of Rook that hasn't really come up in the main story yet: his fascination with the nonhuman students. This just brings up more questions. Since Vil is human... as far as we know... Rook's behavior towards him is motivated by something different than that which motivates his hunts, even if that something different is just a different way of being beautiful. ARGHH I DON'T KNOWWWWW we're going into his voice lines

Alright, ceremonial robes home tap 3 (from twstarchives): "There is beauty that some are just born with, but the beauty you work hard to achieve holds immeasurable power. Isn't that right?" Okay now we're getting somewhere, he appreciates hard work! Oh yeah didn't Vil say some stuff cause he felt defeated by Neige being better even though Vil put in all this hard work? The development of that sort of attitude would probably constitute a loss of beauty. Hard work would therefore also make someone beautiful in Rook's eyes.

So, who works hard? Yep, Jamil we're bringing you in again. Remember, a change is needed to drive the plot and prompt a change in Rook. Haven't we had a major change in Jamil's attitude already? Starting with having to funnel all his hard work into Kalim and keeping himself under Kalim, after chapter 4 Jamil is now channeling his work into himself and finally showing off his true talents. Given that Rook can't possibly stalk everyone in NRC in-depth, he likely doesn't have a complete idea of Jamil's capabilities especially given how Jamil was specifically trying to stay under the radar. This may give Jamil the possibility to surprise Rook with his full power, potentially shifting Rook's opinion enough to give him a significant appreciation of Jamil's beauty.

With all this information, I think I can try and build a rough simulation of events. So, the VDC teams do their performances and wow the crowd. In the meantime while the judges are deciding who wins, some shit goes down: Vil gets canceled or something, Jamil gains popularity, idk something with Neige & the dwarves. Vil's mental health takes a turn for the worst and he resorts to underhandedness. He enlists Rook for some plot against Jamil or Neige. However, Kalim gets caught in the crossfire. Inspired by Jamil's beauty and efforts to help Kalim, Rook ends up going against the plan and Vil. Vil overblots, blah blah backstory, then the judges release the results of the competition, and the winding down/aftermath/party time is the 2nd day of the festival whatever when the gang can go see all the other booths and stuff.

Even after all this I sincerely doubt my final prediction here will come to pass but y'know, all about the journey not the destination. Honestly, I thought of the title of this post when I was only partway through like "Haha isn't this theory about Jamil being Snow White so out there" but nope that's actually a foundation of my ideas now. What am I doing??? Anyway, hope you enjoyed reading this mess. Please feel free to message me or something if this rant gave you any ideas that you wanna share.

#twst analysis #twst #twisted wonderland #vil schoenheit #jamil viper #neige leblanche #rook hunt #epel felmier #twst theories

72 notes · View notes

the1stn0elle · 3 years

Text

Parasyte -The Maxim- Analysis

Summary:

When parasitic alien-like creatures descend from the sky on a dark and silent night, they come along with a bloodlust for human flesh. In order for these parasites to survive, they must invade and take over a human host. Unfortunate high school student Shinichi Izumi has a frighting encounter with the largely unknown parasites lurking in the darkness, and he almost becomes completely taken over by a parasite. Despite Shinichi’s brain not being taken over by the parasite, it has managed to find a home within his right hand and is soon after given the name Migi (right). Parasyte tells the story of a world that is slowly being taken over by alien-like creatures as the parasites can take on human forms and can almost seamlessly live amongst humans. The duality of humans and parasites is expanded on by Shinichi’s character as he is living as both a human and a parasite.

Analysis:

Defining Humanity

Parasyte brings up one major question that the viewers must try to grasp in the duration of the show, “What does it mean to be human?”. Defining humanity is a difficult thing to do mostly because of the subjectiveness of the term, it can hold a plethora of meanings depending on the individual that is assessing it. When Shinichi becomes the partial host for the parasite Migi, his whole life is flipped around as he is forced to share his body with another living organism that understands nothing about humans. Migi’s lack of compassion or “human” emotions leads Shinichi to strongly dislike him as he only uses stone-cold logic when assessing any given situation. In the series, humanity is although, subjective, takes a more concrete form through the progression of the show. One’s humanity can essentially be chalked up to the dynamic emotions that are associated with humans. Shinichi in his current situation is technically living as both a human and a parasite and is continuously asked “what does it mean to be human?” and “what makes humans special?”

Shinichi’s struggle in being both human and parasite comes with having to question what makes parasites and humans so different? We as humans prey on other animals to survive, some kill their own kind, and many humans commit many terrible crimes, but who is anyone to call the parasites monsters when humans themselves never fail to embody the characteristics of monsters themselves? Parasites only take over the brains of humans so they may be given the chance of survival, shouldn’t any living creature be given a chance at life? If not, who are we to decide? The idea is highlighted in a comment made by Migi “If you have the right to live, so do we, granted I believe rights are a concept unique to the human species.”. Migi also discusses the concept of demons and their relatedness between humans “Upon researching the concept of demons, I believe that, among all life, humans are the closest thing to it. Although humans kill and eat a wide variety of life forms, my kind eat merely one or two kinds at most. We are quite frugal in comparison.” if Migi, a parasite who landed on earth knowing nothing about its existence or the world is able to conclude that humans share numerous qualities with demons, couldn’t the same be made by other humans if we all took a step back to see the full picture? There is another question of if humans are possibly worse than parasites; due to the complex emotional intelligence of humans, we can use these emotions for self-gain and can exploit others because of the very existence of human emotions and how they can make us just as vulnerable and weak as they can make us strong.

Losing One’s Humanity

One of the most important plot points in Parasyte is when Shinichi is on the verge of death after he is stabbed in the heart by a parasite that has taken over the body of his mother. As a solution to the problem, Migi decides to combine his cells with Shinichi’s to keep him alive, Migi explains his reason for doing this was that if Shinichi were to die, Migi would die as well since he’d be without a host to sustain his life. The event marks Shinichi’s gradual loss of humanity; he ultimately loses his ability to cry or even outwardly express the prized emotions that make an individual human. Shinichi originally hated Migi due to his lack of love, compassion, or understanding, but now Shinichi is finding himself in the same situation. The struggle Shinichi faces is truly heartbreaking to watch as we see him struggle to a point where it causes physical pain as he isn’t able to express sadness. He begins to adopt the same cold logic previously belonging to Migi and he’s distraught when he knows what he should be feeling but simply isn’t; Shinichi all but loses the altruistic characteristic humans are known to possess. We also see Migi start to show more human emotions as he gradually begins to consider Shinichi a friend and not just a host needed as a means for survival.

Redefining Humanity

Parasyte is bursting with the discussion of ethics and uses Shinichi and Migi to showcase the two ends of the spectrum to decide what is “right” and “wrong”. As the story progresses Shinichi becomes desensitized to killing other parasites as he views them as monsters. Reiko Tamura, one of Shinichi’s high school teachers, flips the belief on its head in a scene crucial to the plot and Shinichi’s regained humanity. Once obtaining a host, Reiko had a plan to bear a child as an experiment to see how the child would develop, but during the last half of the show, it is easy to take note that Reiko does in fact care about her child and even gives her life to protect her baby. Shinichi, who is around to witness the series of events notices the unusual emotions Reiko is showing to her child. It becomes apparent that she has attained some of the emotions once thought to only be possessed by humans. The event brings rise to the question of “is there really a difference between humans and parasites?” the once major distinction was the inability of the parasites to express love or empathy, but Reiko’s character completely proves this incorrect. After witnessing the death of Reiko, Shinichi can finally shed tears for the first time since fusing with Migi and is able to once again grasp his humanity.

What makes Humans Special?

In the final battle of Parasyte between Shinichi and Gotou, a highly dangerous parasite that is a major threat to humanity, Shinichi can accept the weaknesses that come along with being human and having the ability to feel complex and dynamic emotions. The fight between Shinichi and Gotou is gruesome and intense and depicts Shinichi, a man who is lacking in physical strength but is overflowing with emotions fighting against Gotou, a parasite who showcases exemplary physical prowess while lacking emotions giving a battle of human versus nature. Once Gotou is finally standing with his last bit of strength and on the verge of death, Shinichi at first decides to let nature decide the fate of Gotou and whether or not he should live or die. He decides this because he doesn’t want to “impose human values” onto an individual that is not human. Shinichi later concludes that Gotou is to die by his hand as it is the responsibility of humans and all other living species to fight for survival in the face of a predator. Shinichi kills Gotou with the prospect of protecting those dear to him from harm and succumbs to the selfishness of human nature.

#parasyte #shinichi izumi #migi parasyte #anime analysis #morality #ethics

41 notes · View notes

highsviolets · 4 years

Text

ne plus ultra

summary: you encounter acclaimed scholar obi-wan kenobi after an academic conference

rating: mature (not explicit)

notes: all my love and affection to brit and mia. @profkenobi you are my prompt muse & @goldenkenobi you win many awards by listening to my endless rambles about this fic. // CHAPTER TWO

ne plus ultra (n).

(1) the highest point capable of being attained

(2) the most profound degree of a quality or state

the story starts in medias res, as all lives do. the beginning of your life is always in the middle of someone else’s. your death coincides with another’s gallant ebullience, your semi-colon failing to incise upon their life. so the scholars say.

the conference — your first since you passed your dissertation — had made you nervous, and you were glad to be spending an extra night before returning to the real world tomorrow.

your palms are slick, as they always are after too long spent in the company of other academics. the anxiety that swells in you is ballast and the deadweight forces you to slump forward slightly, the visible seam on your the shoulder of your shirt sashaying inwards.

when you smile at the concierge, it is tight, like a formation of soldiers in Napoleon’s day, and does not quite reach your eyes. still decked with traces of freckles and darkened by a summer spent abroad under the sun’s penetrating gazes, your skin fails to comply with demands of minuscule muscles pulling and stretching, commanding it into a thin arc.

but it is no matter — you receive your key and you sign the paperwork and are ascending the winding staircase to the seventh floor. emerald green carpet is your guide, swathing your ascendancy in a sheen of dark-hue velvet. sir gawain chasing after the knight in green armor, a lecture on virtue streaming from the knight’s mouth, materializes on the steps. the galloping thought makes you smile, this time more relaxed. that story is something you know. something you know so well you could almost touch it. indeed you had fingered its pages, during your apprenticeship at the British Library.

hope. the words springs forth, nearly unbidden, from your lips. the word is spoken so softly — merely a breath and a hint of sound disturbing the stairwell’s precious physics. it is a reflex of association. green means hope, the scholars had said, and during the course of your studies you had been disappointed to find that you agreed with them. you did not want to agree with the fashionably smug expert in the field. you wanted to rattle him. shake him to his sacrosanct core, the sanctimonious scum.

you had never met the man: the mysterious OWK. your advisor had raved about his breakout lecture series that had taken place years ago, when he was a newly minted phd and you were still in undergrad. sipping a cup of cafeteria coffee (they always forgot you preferred tea, all these years later), they had rambled on about the poetry of OWK’s phrasing and his decisiveness in speech and the unparalleled skill of his primary source research. the lectures had been sadly lost, the footage deleted, or archived, they didn’t know which. just that the man had refused to distribute them and speak on the matter further, nearly abandoning academia entirely.

the beverage was bitter but you laughed lightly. “is this thomas moore and his lectures on st. augustine, then? so legendary that no one can find them?”

your advisor had inclined their head, congratulating you on your witty reference. “i suppose so,” they had mused, leaning back in their office chair and staring at some point above your head, at the oaken bookshelves with brightly colored book jackets lining the walls. “now, your latest draft—“

the memory fades as your purpose alters. a simple twist of the key and the door opens. but you remain on the threshold, stuck between two modes, between here and there.

there is a man in your room, and he is as handsome as sin. he sits in a chair in the corner of the room and one leg is resting on the other’s kneecap at a ninety degree angle. he is wearing glasses, and has short auburn hair that gleams in the dull light of the lamp beside him (although, a few wayward strands obscure his eyes, layering over the frame of his glasses). he is reading. the cover is folded over so you cannot see the title but it is hefty, judging from its position on his thigh. shadows have formed over high cheekbones.

the man removes himself from the task, focusing his gaze on you. you see now that he has bright blue eyes.

“hello there!” his greeting is polite, and amiable, and accented, though not pleasantly so. “can i help you?”

“I’m afraid there seems to be a mix-up!” you say in your ‘adult voice.’ it’s same one you used on your dissertation defense. “it seems we were placed in the same room.”

“ah.” he nods sagely, as though this were to be expected, and unfolds himself from his chair.

you place a hand on your hip — near the phone snug in the back pocket of your jeans — and shrug. “I’m sorry.” the apology is saccharine and tastes like grenadine. “I’ll pop back downstairs and find out what the problem is.”

he urges you to stay, to let him call from here rather you lugging your things all the way down and all the way back up again. “it’s not proper,” he insists, dragging you in and closing the door behind you. in the time that his is so near to you and you feel the way his frown matches the steady grip on your upper arm, something warms in you at his indignation. your hand drifts away from your phone. he retreats to his corner to make the call while you linger just beyond the threshold.

the conversation is hushed and decorated with the raised tones of inquiry. when he hangs up, he sighs.

“they were under the impression that we were a married couple. apparently we booked under a similar last name.” his voice turns down at the edges. he sounds the way his frown had earlier: weary, confused, and a dash of inexplicable certainty.

“but—“ you gesture to the beds — “two beds?”

something of a grimace shadows his face. “all that was available, apparently.”

“oh.” there is a pause. he does not continue. “but they got me a room, right?” if you sound slightly desperate, perhaps it is because you are. you are sweaty. you are nervous. you want to relax. in your own room.

he zooms past your query. “i know you,” he says, and sounds as if he is surprised he knows how to speak.

“i —“ you shake your head — “i don’t think so.”

when you give your name and recognition fails to present itself, he falters and twists to stare through the glass behind him. “i thought…” but he breaks off. in the end he rights himself and tells you of the situation — how there is no vacancy, but he does not mind the sharing a room with you, just for the night, it wouldn’t be a bother.

there is something different about him. maybe it is the way that he emphasized the word can. maybe it is the way he is pushing the hair from his eyes, and removing the glasses from his face. maybe it is the way that, now pausing his actions, the man cants his head and furrows his brow.

air grows thick with the brush strokes of caravaggio: he is in the spotlight, sure and solid and steady, pure against the whirlpools of unknowing realism.

you are on the cusp of stepping into his white light when he offers his name. the first letter of each word drags itself from his mouth and burrows into your ear, until you almost divorce the meaning but for the particulars.

the first instinct that you are aware of is one you cannot name — it is an anger that is sweet, and one that is shielded by sadness, yet fueled by frustration.

there are dozens of others that your heart and mind have already examined, of course, turning them this way and that, inspecting their corners with bloodied hands. but they are rejected, and expelled into the waxy shadows, without your being aware of them. that is the job of the soul: to know before you are even aware.

he senses the shift. perhaps uncertainty has clouded your eyes. obi-wan kenobi, OWK, takes a step back from rising mist and shadow and once more turns to gaze out the window. through the glass there is a gentle village scene, all cobblestones and iron street lamps and hills keeping time on the horizon.

“i — “ you start, but you stop again. you must start, you feel, but you do not know what path to take, and you halt. the time he thinks you consider you are in fact not considering at all. there is only one answer (answers that are wrong are never really answers, after all, just more questions).

“i’ll stay.”

—

Obi-Wan is courteous and deferential and demands that you permit him to treat you this evening as an apology. he departs to give you privacy as you shower, and the flash of shimmering emerald carpet you spy as he exits makes you wonder if you are the Lady Bertalik to his Sir Gawain.

the steam and the water beat down clenched muscles with gentle hands and lingering touches. it is for several minutes that you linger in their warm embrace, but as you wipe away fog from the mirror you cannot help but encounter the sensation that you are alone, and wrongfully so. you cannot feel Obi-Wan’s presence and the air feels stale without him — like there is no current disrupting the atmosphere’s mundane course.

droplets decorate your shoulders and the hollow of your throat. they hold fast even when you pad softly to your belongings for a fresh change of clothes.

The ache in this room is stronger. The walls themselves are mourning his absence. You feel it settle in your gut, a gluttonous mass that lightens when you consider that he should be returning soon. the sky outside the window is orange and gold, flattering the leaves of maple trees in autumn.

the room is pretty, in a simple way: the emerald carpet of hope has been exchanged for a darkened hardwood. Chrome accents gleam in the reflection of the wood, and two beds — one at opposite ends of the wall — are smothered silver-white sheets. a series of Malevich paintings are hung up in a neat grid, as though the dissembling artist would come barging in, screaming of the devil, if the French theories of symmetry were not obeyed.

as you dress and begin to comb your hair, you wonder why you miss someone whom you have just met, and someone you are not disposed to like. can you miss someone you don’t like? he is sporadic and paradisiacal; in motion and steady. his kindness had surprised you, as had his beauty. he was less corrosive than your advisor had made him out to be, less ambitious than the accolades awarded to his name. but he is zealous, hungry, seeking: you could see in the way his eyes bunched around the edges, in the crick of his neck when he sought wisdom from the hills, how he had contorted his body in the chair.

(he is like you, both here and not here, and although you did not yet know, your soul was aware and reflective in wonder)

when your flesh-and-blood sir gawain returns, you muse that you are a poor temptress in an thick-knit ivory sweater that encases your body from neck to wrists. it had been a steal from a second-hand store a few years back, and you had never found the heart to give it up. it was like a childhood book, or a favorite mug — the object, in all its durable materiality, was akin to you.

Your smile pleases him. Obi-Wan says he has found a place for this evening, nothing special, but nice. “We are celebrating after all,” he says, shrugging off a dark woolen coat.

“We are?” you look at him through the reflection of the mirror. blue eyes meet yours.

“Of course!” the phrase suspends itself for a moment, maybe two, as though it is waiting for something to slip in and complete its trinity. but it falls, tumbling back down to terrestrial concerns. “We are celebrating our meeting.”

He is absurd, and you laugh. Obi-Wan’s theory of festivity is not so mercurial as his speech — the declaration sticks to your ribs, pumping blood to your heart and flooding your cheeks with a natural flush.

Obi-Wan continues to examine you. “Might I ask,” he starts, hands stilling in their expedition of finding suitable attire, “where you bought your sweater?”

you respond: it was from a second-hand store, you found it during your apprenticeship, it was the only thing that kept you warm that terribly dreary winter, it was your constant companion.

“does it have a trio of red threads on the left cuff?”

satisfying his quench takes precedence to mystery of his request.

Obi-Wan’s smile engulfs the spirit of the room, and the two of you, and the bedding, and the glass window, too.

“that was my sweater,” he says. “my uncle made it for me, and i gave it to my brother after we adopted him. he wasn’t used to the dampness of English winters, but he didn’t like the itchiness of the knit. he always had an aversion to gritty textures.” he reaches out a hand with a faint smile, like the combined power of his simple offering can cross space and time and memory and return him to the days of him and his uncle and adopted brother.

you do not know what to say. you watch him for several moments. you want to speak, but your mind is blank, thrumming with the idea that it is so very right that part of him has been with part of you all of these years. parts have him has seen you through the long hours of a dreary apprenticeship and discovering the healing properties of English tea and catching tears and wisps of smiles and witnessing ink spill over pages as you churned out dissertation drafts until the argument was smooth and refined.

the idea makes you feel very alive, and alert, and you want to offer him comfort. “would you like to take it back?” one hand tugs at the edge of the cloth, near your waist. “it’s yours anyway.” the pain of parting is lessened by the joy of giving.

he demurs, you coax. eventually it is determined that he will wear the garment for the evening, but only if you wear something of his, too. “that way it’s even,” he says, and you laugh again to hide the dip in your stomach at thought of wearing something of his, of wrapping yourself in his scent, of placing your body in a place his had once inhabited.

you settle on a light gray blazer that you think must compliment his eyes, which sparkle with aquamarine and crystal. it is paired with a turtleneck and when you emerge to show him the completed ensemble, spinning in a circle, he chuckles.

“you look like me,” he says, one hand cupping his chin.

a feeling pulses in your mind but you let it go. you may like him after all, but that doesn’t mean he wasn’t a pompous academic whose theories had made your life hell.

—

you expect him to take you to a cozy place. somewhere where they serve the local brew and make homemade shepherd’s pie, but he doesn’t.

he takes you a bar that is sleek and modern, with soft yellow lights and paneled ceilings and marble counter-tops. Obi-Wan escorts you to a high table in the corner, a hand on the small of your back. the warmth from his palm spreads through his jacket and your turtleneck and it feels like cinnamon and candlelight.

later, you will not remember what you ordered to eat, but you will always remember the two cups water that appear on the table.

the glasses have smooth edges and and rounded sides, curving around themselves ad infinitum or perhaps reductio ad absurdum. faint golden orbs hunch against the surface; integers of light cling to any sort of tactical reassurance. even the glass will do.

the cups are hefty, and not just with the font of life. the vessel is weighty, durable. Obi-Wan tells you that they are recycled.

he does not talk about what he does now and how he teaches, and you do not mention your work. you do not need to: what these truths have taught you is in every swallow, every glance, every gentle barb. the two of you do not need shields of citation guidelines to understand one another.

the conversation dances. he pulls you in with a question. you twirl around him, brushing his five o’clock shadow. artifice glistens and then falls away. with every pass and dip and pas de chat resentment and assumption weaken, and your eyes become bigger. he changes the time signature, the style (first it was a waltz, and then a swing step, and now it is easing into something unknown). the fabric of his jacket is smooth, and comfortable, and smells like him — warm and spice and clean. you ease into it like it is your birthright.

you do not see, but Obi-Wan notices, and grins into his water.

he does not see, but you notice, the way he couches into your sweater, and your eyes curl in some form of elation.

“what were they about? the lectures, i mean.” this is the question you have been waiting to ask. here, in the bar, with glass, you are emboldened to let go of one last grudge.

he looks at you, and his gaze stabs you, but then it softens — like the needle from a shot easing into muscle before retreating as swiftly as it came.

“what did your advisor say they were about?” he fiddles with his glass.

“they said…” you close your eyes in recollection. eyelashes flutter against freckles. “they said the lectures were about grief.”

Obi-Wan’s smile is wry, but he does not seem displeased. he is still too relaxed to be angry. how you can read his body language so quickly, you are not sure — maybe it is because he is wearing your sweater. so many things you are unsure of, but he is not one of them. not really.

uncertainty is different with him. he is not an ever-fixéd mark, nor a staid anchor in the waves. but he is resolved, and you can separate him from the rest of the particulars that impede your life. he is not just krei: distinguishing and judging and explanatory and crisis all at once, all at everything.

yes, uncertainty with him is less about judgment and is rather imbued with mystery. it is krei mixed with mysteriam: separating the hidden things from that which is known.

Obi-Wan taps his finger on the glass and the sound returns you to the present. he has caught you wandering, again, wandering the wayward halls of esoteric remembrance.

“they were about grief,” he nods, staring at the transparent material in his hands.. Obi-Wan’s voice is kingly and aromatic, like basil. it lilts and sways around the words he speaks as in a courtly dance, like those Anne Boleyn performed for King Henry.

lifting his gaze to yours again, he adds, “and they were about joy. those lectures were about everything, and nothing.” a hand rises, and rhythmic fingers sweep away invisible cobwebs. “they were,” Obi-Wan concludes, “about life itself. phenomena, as it were.” the hand floats down and rests on the table.

it is perilously close to yours now: mere inches from the edges of your body. you both look down at his hand in a brief moment marked and scratched with silence, and you are alone with your thoughts. his hands are worn, like they have been used — little scars and wrinkles and a slight puffiness that tells you that he spent a lot of time writing today. you like that.

you point to the swelling, at the v of his hand where thumb and palm meet. the tip of your index finger hovers above the spot and your confession must linger too, because it takes several moments for him to drag his eyes upwards to study your face.

“how many ACE wraps did you fray while writing your dissertation?” he asks, and you want to push him for being such a competitive brat.

your hand is still suspended above his.

you tell him your answer, and he cups his fingers around yours in a spasm of revelation. “me too!” his grip tightens. “academia is one son of a bitch.” he catches you in a sideways glance, and when you laugh, he relaxes into a smile.

“I read your dissertation, you know.” the sweater itches against your wrist, where the sleeve of his blazer has ridden up and exposed skin.

“i didn’t.” you take a sip. “but i do know how you feel about scholars such as myself.” another sip. are you biding time? you are not sure. “you feel very strongly about the color green, Dr. Kenobi.”

his grip slackens but he does not release your hand completely. “please. call me ben.”

“no?” your eyebrow arches. “not OWK, either?”

“I don’t use that name with friends.”

“Are we friends?”

his eyes are earnest, open, porous, like blue tulle on ballet costumes. “yes. i dare say we are.”

—

when the two of you stand to leave, there is a still a table that prohibits unity. emptiness subsumes you; he is so near and yet so far; Ben should be next to you. the distance continues, grows, as you exit, and an ache pours forth from your soul, because you now know what you did not know before. you had seen it in the glass, and in the reflected light, and the way you had seen yourself in his eyes when you danced with him without touching his hand.

you halt, he pauses. you take a step forward and Ben watches you. darkness blankets the town’s cobbled streets; the stones gleam dully and swallow the street lamps all into an abyss. except his eyes: Ben’s silken azure eyes are your anchor.

people don’t make sense but you do.

a few steps more and the two of you are very close. you tilt your head to look at his face. you are there, reflected in his pupils. “maybe i am you.” you mean for it to sound teasing, but your soul knows before you do, and the words are laden with imperial import, like a royal seal.

those gemstone eyes flicker over your face. he has felt it too, he is telling you, but how you know this you cannot say. “no, i do not think so.” letters drip out, leaking in a slow stream. “but i think perhaps we are a part of each other.”

and then you have narrowed down the sum to its composite parts. the glass has shattered and the left hand swims in its sand and calcium carbonate and ash, drifting through a process of becoming. particles glimmer on skin, under nails, brandishing depth and texture and a pantone coloring book of the human heart.

it is a mutual kiss, one where individualism no longer endures. his hands — swollen, calloused, firm — are grasping your cheeks. your arms are around his waist, winding around sweater and skin and soul. when you close your eyes, you think it will be dark. you are wrong. tenebrism creeps away and shadows vanish, and there is only him, and a resounding tenor of colors.

ben’s lips are soft, and his breath is warm, and it is the kiss for which you feel like you have spent your whole life preparing. he is safe (tender) and unexpected (his tongue grazes your teeth). he likes it when you grip him harder, the knit no longer coarse against your palms, not when his hand is wandering through your hair in flashes of blue and gold and pearl.

when you pull away, and nuzzle his cheek, Ben smiles — soft and comforting like the garment on his back. maybe this is why glass shatters and cracks around your feet, crunching as you sway slightly in each other’s arms — you have worn his jacket, and he has worn your sweater.

—

it is predawn the next time he kisses you. the two of you are on his bed, near the window. sweaters and blazers have been exchanged for baggy t-shirts and sleep shorts. Ben is facing you, cross-legged on the pale sheets, and he watches you as you take in the metamorphosis of the sky, from black to navy to the merest smidgen of blue and grey on the horizon, skating across the silhouette of the hills.

he watches you as you speak, too, about the way you loved the ocean as a child, and your favorite book is Moby Dick. it was so very ethereal to you, the way that sailors used the stars to navigate. it was like they were communing with the heavens.

Ben thinks that your voice glitters. it is weary with much talk and too little sleep but it shines the way diamonds do when they are stitched onto spanish lace, supported with the strength that is only found in delicacy.

your eyes, he thinks, are more like satin, for the way they gleam and mix their depth and shadows without losing their sheen, glassy in their wonder.

but you notice his regard, and you pause. he cannot see it, but he can feel a blush jogging from your neck to your cheeks.

you stare at each other. and then — he is next to you, and laying you down, and you are learning his labyrinthine ways even as you begin to come undone.

he is coming alive, or waking up—you’re not sure. his ends and beginnings are still a unknown to you: you must fashion yourself a mystic to enter his realm. somehow you suspect he is yours. your alpha and omega, the moral force that has driven you forward to now, to this point, where his forehead is meeting the jut of your jaw as he kisses his way down your neck.

you are hot and cold all at once and when he licks your pulse point, and sucks, you gasp. it is a gentle thing, more like a deep breath than an exclamation. you feel yourself leaning into him, straining for his touch. his auburn hair under your fingertips is soft and slick with his gel and you tug at it in an act of encouragement.

he pulls away. hovering over you, eyes blue and silver in the pale light — twin moons, perhaps — he smirks. “are you trying to tell me something, darling?” he asks lowly, and his voice is dark molasses. it is sticky and sweet and bitter, inching down your body. you want his kisses to follow its tortuous path, staining you with vermillion and black and dying you with pleasure.

he is color. you are cloth.

the durability of your nature returns in a rush marked with grains of steel. “no.” you swallow and the action traces where his lips met your skin just moments earlier. “i rather thought you were trying to communicate with me.” you sound ragged, coy, on the verge of aching.

Ben does not take your bait. “i was.” his breath is hot against your ear, and arresting. he pauses. the molasses continues to drip. “i was just wanted to make sure i had a clear answer.” and he nips your earlobe. you bite your lip in response: the two of you are in sync.

“yes.” you are fabric, and your voice is terrycloth.

“Yes?” he repeats your fiat. Shards of glass collapse around you as he again meets your gaze.

this must be how the Virgin prayed her Magnificat, you think as his heart errantly beats against his throat. She must have been like he is now, brimming with humble righteousness and bound by understanding. Tenderness cords through you; it tempers your breathing, smoothes the bubbles of molasses. Reaching up to to cup his face, you let your fingers splay over his cheek, resting on stubble and skin. your pinky finger meets the angle of his cheekbone. the image falls into place and the symmetry causes you to smile.

“yes. etiam. ja. sí.” you are about to conclude in greek — ναί — but he halts your litany of assent by placing an offering on your lips. the greek is in the twists of his tongue in your mouth, and so is the hebrew, and the arabic, and all the languages yet to engrave themselves in your memory.

it is like the first time you experienced champagne at your father’s christmas party. one of his students had poured you, then sixteen, a glass and said with a wink, “the monks declared it was the taste of the stars.” you had raised the flute to your lips and drank as you were bid, and when you had swallowed, you knew the world was different now. or perhaps the old world had not changed, you had merely adapted to fickle ways.

your tongue did as it had then, skating across your front teeth onto your upper lips in quick, jabbing motions. unsatiated and incomplete.

he pulls away again and you frown. eyes closed, you tug at his shoulder in a nonverbal ask to come back.

silence meets your plea and you open your eyes. he is still above you, weight resting on his forearms, and he is smiling. “you are so impatient.” the rebuke is fond and he soothes its burn with a kiss to your cheek. your eyes flutter closed, briefly.

“i am not impatient.” arms cross over your chest and eyes roll. “i am —“ the phrase is paused as he kisses your other cheek. you open your eyes. “i am.” he waits for you, as he always has, but after a few heartbeats he gleans the completeness of your meaning. existence is the watchword of this night, or this dawn: let sartre and his kind be put to rest.

so the two of you kiss again, and when his arms get tired, you drape your legs over his lap and press yourself into his chest. the last vestiges of moonlight have settled upon you, but it is no thing, not when skin feels what eyes cannot. lips are languid and hands stroll up and down pathways and alleyways and sidewalks. brittle substances of impatience are burned away through the silk of his fingers. you are content to rest in chiaroscuro.

there is another breaking: transparent and fortified compound of ash and sand — let in by the moon and the rising venus — twinkles around your head, his spine. a whispered ask, a tender assent: shirts glide over shoulders and he guides in your descent.

breathing is knowing, feeling is seeing: for here essence and existence bleed into one consummate act of communion.

lips touch your collarbone, your breast. your hands plane over his chest in a crusade of knowledge. he does not begrudge your gasps, now, or the arches your back erects to his honor. ben’s lips, hands, the vehicles of his words to the world, at once analyze and soak in praise.

clothes fall away, skin uncovering skin, manifesting a reality that had resided in your souls far before today. before the bar, the hotel, the sweater, there was always the two of you, striving for eudaemonia.

“this is phenomena,” he whispers against the curve of your hip. ben presses a kiss to the bones that give form to your body politic (the totality of your shattered glass made whole).

fin.

Tags: @profkenobi @goldenkenobi @ohhellokenobi @obitwo @nobie @cherieboba @lazzwhile @rentskenobi @master-obi-wan-kenboneme @justrunamok @citadoll @obirain @catsnkooks @royalhandmaidens @kyjoraven @mcu-padawan @anakin-danvers @snips-n-skyguy0501 @saintlaurentkenobi @answer-the-sirens @videogamesandpoorlifechoices @likeshootingstarsinthenightsky @icedcoffeeandgays // please send an ask or fill out this form to get added to my taglist!

#userkarina #userlilylils #usernobie #ayatlovesme #obi wan x you #obi wan x reader #obi wan x y/n #obi wan x reader insert #obi-wan x reader #obi-wan x y/n #prompt requst #cristina writes #prof kenobi #fic: ne plus ultra #i have been so fucking excited to post this #also i actually proofread this one

117 notes · View notes