#humans love information overload

[majnoonathelibrarian]

I am always so hot for cabinets of curiosities.

What can early museums teach us about modern literacy? 💭

Whitney Barlow Robles' latest piece for JSTOR Daily, "The Age of Wonder Meets the Age of Information," takes us back to the cabinets of curiosities from the 16th-18th centuries–perhaps original examples of information overload.

These "cabinets" were rooms outfitted with items like narwhal tusks, ivory carvings, and even (alleged) unicorn horns. Like today's average social media experience, collections like these overwhelmed the senses and raised questions about power, knowledge, and representation.

In this piece, Robles explores how these early museums can help students develop digital and visual literacy today, offering lessons in interdisciplinary thinking and grappling with colonial legacies.

(P.S.: JSTOR's Artstor collection features stunning images of these cabinets!)

[kumkaniudaku]

Me and Your Mama

Summary: Terry and Patrice learn more about their love through life changing news on New Year’s Eve.

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC

Word Count: 4,436

Warnings: Mentions of Pregnancy

Recommended Reading: Spoiled, Caught

Author's Note: We're at the end of Ficmas! Thanks for all the requests sprinkled in the middle. This has been a fun little ride and hope you feel fulfilled at the end of this one. Stay safe this New Year's Eve. See you in 2025.

Several mornings passed between Christmas, New Year's Eve, and their five-hour drive up north with no attempt to confirm Patrice's suspicion. She'd purposely avoided all conversation about it, preferring to push the thought to the back of her mind until she and Terry could no longer tiptoe around the growing elephant in the room. 

Moments after luggage was rolled into their downtown D.C. hotel room, the pair braced themselves for punishing winds and bitter cold in search of the nearest convenience store to pick up comfort snacks and three different pregnancy tests. Terry did the honors of selecting what he thought were the best options based on his research, while Patrice forced herself to take an interest in potato chips and snack cakes a few aisles over. 

She couldn't bring herself to engage. Talking about it, whatever it was, would make the dreams more real. And if what she dreamed wasn't true, she didn't know how she could pretend that all was well while her heart chipped and shattered inside her chest. So, she stayed away and let Terry put on his brave face for the both of them.

In the bright convenience store nearly empty as people prepared for a night out to celebrate the incoming new year, they felt like children caught doing something wrong instead of an adult couple on the precipice of discovering what the rest of their lives could look like. 

Terry mumbled through passive small talk with the smiling cashier, staying just vague enough in his answers to avoid the glaring topic of the day before ushering Patrice out of the automated sliding doors and back toward their home for the next few nights. 

Once they returned, neither of them spoke. Patrice slowly unpacked plastic bags filled with items, leaving the slender white boxes for last. 

She drug a fingernail across the box on top, then looked at Terry, who couldn't take his eyes off her. "I think I'm gonna pee by myself if that's okay." 

"That's cool," he answered, offering support with a weak smile. "I'll be out here if you need me."

Most of Patrice's time in the bathroom was spent staring at her reflection in the mirror. She slowly lifted the hem of her thick, cashmere sweater to examine her stomach, twisting side to side for the best angle. Nothing of note. The small bump that did exist was no different than any other day. At least, that's what she told herself as she ran her fingers along the slight curve. 

Unfolded instructions littered the bathroom counter, each saying a variation of the same thing: Pee, wait, have a minor panic attack, then check the results. Or something like that. Patrice's eyes were starting to cross from information overload. 

On the other side of the door, Terry stared out of the large bedroom window at nothing in particular as thoughts quickly ran in and out of his brain. He'd never considered being anybody's dad unless Patrice was on the other side of the fantasy. Maybe once or twice when other partners brought it up, but nothing concrete. Nothing this real, nothing that felt this right. 

Sure, it was quick. And sure, it was probably not a great idea to introduce a child into a relationship that was only recently recognized by the state as a legal union. Any boy, girl, or otherwise would be dropped into a marriage not much older than them and cared for by two humans still trying to understand life. But they'd be loved. They'd be showered in affection from sun up to sun down. He had no doubt about it. What greater joy than to hold a child that was half him and half the woman he loved with every fiber of his being? 

But he was only one part of the equation. Ultimately, Patrice was the deciding factor. Patrice and a collection of three pregnancy tests two minutes away from unveiling their fate.

The toilet flushing made Terry blink back into reality from daydreams of diaper changes and kindergarten graduations. He caught a glimpse of himself in the window's faultless glass before turning in enough time to see Patrice poke her head out of the bathroom for his attention. 

She fiddled with her fingers and rocked on her heels. "You can come in if you want." 

He nodded, careful not to appear too eager or unconcerned, and moved to join her for the wait. 

The soft click of the door closing sealed them into the room together. Terry silently shuffled into the room past Patrice to sit on the closed toilet lid and nervously ran his palm down the back of his head. He took a deep breath before looking over at Patrice, who'd gone back to obsessing over how her stomach looked beneath her clothes. 

"Hey," he spoke in a sweet, low tenor to avoid startling her. She looked over, eyes shining from suppressed tears, and found him looking at her with round doe eyes. He grabbed her hand and pulled her closer. "Come here, sweetheart." 

Sweetheart. To Patrice's soul, the word felt like warm chicken soup on a winter evening. She could never question how Terry felt about her. He'd been there to offer comfort through a tumultuous, frightening week. Feeling his large hands grip her waist to pull her between his legs grounded her in the right there and then. Regardless of the results, he'd still be around to kiss away the bad times and laugh with her through the good. 

Patrice lightly placed her cold hands on his face while he looked up at her, waiting for anything she decided to say. 

She closed her eyes and sighed. "What if it's negative?" 

"Well. We'll go out and drink champagne all night like we planned. I hate the taste on its own but know I'll love it on your lips when we kiss at midnight. Then we move on. Maybe have a conversation that we should've had a long time ago on the drive home." 

"And if it's positive?" 

Terry took a deep breath, allowing the words to come out in a mind-clearing huff. "We skip the champagne and keep the kiss. But we have to celebrate either way, baby. Time's gonna pass no matter what." 

For all his mixed bag of positive and negative traits, Terry's sneaky optimism was Patrice's favorite. A short, airy laugh came through Patrice's nostrils as she tossed her head back and groaned. 

"You're always so sure of things and I'm sitting here about to throw up my lunch." 

Terry rubbed his hands up and down the back of her legs with a smile. "I'm not sure of shit, really," he laughed. "I just know that we'll be alright in the end. This Gunny I was close with told me everything goes back to baseline. Don't sweat the bullshit in between. So, that's what I'm doing. Waiting it out."

"That doesn't scare you? The waiting?" 

"Sometimes." A quick glance down convinced him to slowly lift Patrice's sweater with one hand and hold it in place while he pressed feather-soft kisses across her abdomen. Kisses for her? Kisses for who he hoped lived inside? He didn't know. But he spoke against the area to communicate with whoever would listen. "But waiting always brought me something better than what I had. How could I not trust the process when I have the result standing right in front of me?" 

A rush of emotions broke the levees holding Patrice's tears back, sending a wet stream sliding down her hot cheeks. Terry wiped her face with the back of his hand in silence, the gentleness in his care working double time to soothe whatever thoughts and feelings were coming forward for her. 

When the short bout of crying had ceased, and she was left with nothing but her husband, a timer ticking down to mere seconds and a looming result hanging over their heads, Patrice ran her thumb along Terry's cheek and smiled down at him. 

"I love you more than I ever thought I could, but we gotta slow down, Terrence. I'm worn out." 

Terry answered her joke with a low chuckle that bounced his shoulders and spread his smile wide. "I'm with you, baby. That should be our New Year's resolution." 

"Either that or finally getting around to that budget we've been talking about. Might have to add a baby fund line item." 

"We got it. Don't worry." Terry assured before kissing the inside of her wrist. "Whatever happens, we're okay. Gimme a kiss."

Sweet affection in the face of potentially life-altering change offered some sense of normalcy as they allowed the world to turn into abstract concepts with shared, tender smooches. 

They'd almost forgotten what brought them into the bathroom until the harsh trill of Patrice's phone timer ripped through space and time, again placing them smack dab in the middle of the present. 

When Terry reached to grab one of the tests after silencing the noise, Patrice jolted forward to grab his wrist. "Okay, wait!" she panted. "I-I'll grab one, and you'll grab one. Then we'll do the third one together. Does that make sense?"

"Alright. Which one do you want?" 

"I don't fuckin' know! Choose for me! I can't do this, TJ!" 

Terry wore a crooked smile as he calmly plucked two tests from their containers and placed the digital option into Patrice's palm face down. He took the analog test and covered the result with his thumb before swallowing the lump in his throat. 

A deep breath rushed through parted lips. "Turn it over on three. One, two…" 

Three never came for Patrice. Even after Terry had uttered the number and turned his test over slowly, Patrice kept her eyes closed, waiting for him to spill the beans. She couldn't bring herself to verify on her own accord. He'd have to be her eyes and ears. 

Silence hung in the air for a few seconds, making the wait agonizing until Terry broke the seal. 

"Treecey," he called out. "Please look with me. I need you to see." 

A deep breath helped her blink her way back into clear eyesight. She didn't look at Terry or try to peek at the pink test in his hand. Instead, she flipped her test over with trembling fingers and stared at the small digital screen displaying a single word. 

"Oh –" was all she managed to choke out before looking up at Terry's beaming smile and tear-soaked face. "Does yours say –?" 

"Two lines, baby. Two!"

Disbelief gave way to unadulterated shock. "Oh. My. God. Look at the other one!" 

"You have to do it with me!"

Another countdown as they held on to the final test together preceded an excited flip and harmonizing reactions that could only be described as happy sobs. 

Patrice rocked Terry in a tight embrace while he clung to her, crying into her sweater's soft fabric more than he'd cried in years. An avalanche of emotions wrapped in disbelief that he'd been immeasurably blessed after his year started with so much strife. His losses came with gains ten times above what he could ask or think. 

His wife brushed tears from her already stained face before kissing the crown of his head and repeating, "You're gonna be a daddy, Pooh. You're gonna be a daddy!"

Emotions distorted his deep voice. "Swear?"

"Swear, baby. You're gonna be a daddy."

He wanted to scream at the top of his lungs, not caring who he disturbed. Then, he'd run down the hallways, through the lobby's doors, out into the cold D.C. air, and holler to anyone who would listen that his wife, the girl he fell in love with before he could legally drink, was carrying a child that might look just like him someday. 

But he couldn't get past sharing the excitement seemingly gushing out of his pores with the only other person who could understand his joy. He chose to lift Patrice up in the air as he stood tall, spinning her in a slow circle before gingerly placing her back on her feet and pressing his forehead against hers. 

"What the fuck," he laughed as he tickled her sides, causing her to giggle back. "I'm having a baby. With my baby!"

"I guess I couldn't beat teen pregnancy. My parents are going to be so disappointed in me." 

"Stop it." The thought of his parents sitting in their living room without a clue that their firstborn was miles away receiving such big news flipped on a light bulb in Terry's head. "Our parents! Should we call? We should call them now. Do you wanna do a group FaceTime or like a conference call or what?" 

Patrice watched Terry fumble around his pockets for his phone until he came up empty-handed and reached for hers. She pushed the device further away and shook her head. "Nuh-uh. Can we just…enjoy the news by ourselves tonight. I want it to be our secret a little longer. Is that okay?" 

"Of course, Piggy. Whatever you want. I'm sorry, I just - shit. This is insane. You have a baby in there. Should we tell them we're a party of three tonight at dinner?" 

"No," Patrice laughed, finding his unbridled excitement adorable. "If they cancel this reservation because you playin', me and you might have a problem, Daddy." 

Terry bit his lip and lowered his head to kiss at her neck. "Damn, I love hearing you say that. Say it again."

By the time they were approaching a swanky steakhouse on Patrice's long list of places to visit, she'd called him Daddy so much in jest that she almost told the hostess that that was the name on their reservation. 

Pockets of quiet conversation held over candlelight and crisp white tablecloths greeted them as they were led through the dimly lit restaurant to the table for the evening. Terry moved to pull out a chair for Patrice, but she stopped him with a kind smile. 

"I'm gonna run to the restroom. Mommy bladder is starting early. Order something cute for me?"

Her joke made Terry smile like a little boy until she was out of his sight and safely inside the ladies' room. 

Romantic jazz music oozing out of speakers concealed inside the walls like smooth red wine gave Patrice time to replay the day in her head, unable to contain the elation on her face as she washed her hands at the sink. 

Another woman, tall like a model and beautifully sepia-toned, applied lipstick in the mirror and noticed how she tried but failed to stop grinning. She smiled at Patrice before speaking. "You're glowing," she complimented. "I need whatever you've got going on tonight." 

Patrice chewed the inside of her cheek after a bashful thank you. She wanted to keep the words in and pleaded with herself to walk out of the restroom and return to Terry without uttering another word. 

"I'm pregnant," she blurted, unable to fight the urge. "My husband and I – he's the tall one out there waiting on me – we just found out that I'm pregnant. We were best friends over a decade ago, and I still can't believe we're married. Now, there's a baby inside me with half his DNA. I'm having a baby with Terry Richmond. Oh my God." The realization of her social blunder hit her like an 18-wheeler. "And I just told a stranger all my business. I am so sorry!" 

"No, no! That's incredible, girl! Can I hug you?"

Patrice didn't know why she obliged, but she did, allowing herself to sink into this woman's arms like she was an old friend and not someone whose name she didn't know. The woman rubbed her back and squeezed tight before pulling away. 

"Congratulations, sis. Happy Holidays." 

While Patrice received well wishes on the other side of the establishment, Terry gave his full attention to the cocktail menu as a server attempted to provide recommendations. 

"That one is a crowd favorite," the young man pointed out. "Is she a rum lover? It comes with top shelf Appleton Estate if so." 

Terry chuckled to himself. "She is, but she can't have any right now. We just found out she's pregnant before we got here." Further explanation caught in his throat. He didn't mean to offer up their secret. Excited Terry had done the talking, not calm and reserved Terry. 

He watched with wide eyes and an internal scolding rattling around the container of his mind as the server smiled and jotted a note on his pad. "First, congratulations! I'll note that to the staff and see if we can't do something special for you and your beautiful date. Second, no worries at all. We can turn that one into a mocktail and not lose too many of the flavor notes." 

"Thanks," Terry breathed out. "Hey, can you make sure you don't tell her I said that? It was supposed to be a secret." 

"Our lips are sealed, Mr. Richmond. Consider it a little something extra to celebrate the new year." 

Terry made a mental note to leave a handsome tip behind as Patrice reappeared from her time away. Her smile hypnotized him until she was close enough to remind him about her chair. He scrambled to his feet to take care of his duty, nervously pushing her to the table as if this were their first date. 

When he was back in his seat, he watched her survey the room and menu, taking in each of her features. 

High cheekbones passed down from a long line of majestic women. Soft, mahogany skin that mesmerized him in golden hour light every evening. Dark, expressive eyes that told the story of her inner thoughts, even when she tried to hide. Full lips he couldn't resist. The total package. Everything he hoped for was wrapped in one person. 

Terry sat across from her, smitten. His grin showcased all of his teeth and then some while she scanned the appetizers for something to satiate her peckishness. 

Prolonged silence made Patrice glance up and then double-take when she noticed Terry's one-sided staring contest. "What? Why are you looking at me like that?" 

"Just trying to remember how you looked on the second most important night of our lives." 

Sudden bashfulness sent heat rushing to her face. "The third," Patrice corrected with a smile. "Don't leave out New Orleans." 

Terry chuckled at the memory. "Baby, the sun was barely in the sky when you decided to disturb the whole third floor."

"It was time to wake up anyway. That's what's wrong with the world now." 

Jokes and discussions about the possibility of dessert before dinner dominated the conversation until their server returned with two drinks meant to loosen their lips and hips for the evening. A subtle wink between Terry and the server communicated all he needed to know without tipping off Patrice as she excitedly watched beautifully decorated glasses hit the table. 

"To our first night out as Mom and Dad," Terry toasted, prompting Patrice to raise her glass. 

Mom and Dad—parents to be—two bodies forming one in a few months—a culmination of thousands of experiences leading them to a fate written before they were born. The concept sounded so foreign yet so familiar. 

Patrice dabbed at misty eyes, sniffling out a breathy, "To Mommy and Daddy." 

Glasses softly clinked before she joined Terry in a long sip and starry-eyed gazes across the table to officially kick off a night of celebration. 

Or so they'd hoped. Full bellies caught up with exhausted minds and bodies once silver forks hit clean porcelain plates well before their planned 10 p.m. exit. They tried to negotiate the next move with each other: a little walk for digestion, maybe a minute to listen to street performers play go-go renditions of oldies their parents would enjoy, perhaps another dessert to keep the mood high. 

All of their suggestions paled in comparison to hearing the mechanical whir of the hotel's lock precede the door swinging open to a warm room. There were no crowds trying to cram their bodies onto a rooftop brimming with eager folks anticipating good fortune as the clock flipped forward on a new year. There was only each other and the comfort of familiarity. 

Bottles of Sprite from the downstairs market acted like expensive bottles of bubbly poured into scavenged plastic cups next to a collection of fatty snacks, and cell phones switched to silent mode to avoid distractions. 

Terry and Patrice two-stepped hand in hand to jams playing from the television broadcast, dressed down in comfortable clothes and sporting ever-growing smiles. 

Under warm lamplight, Terry held Patrice's hand over her head to help her spin like a wind-up ballerina before pulling her close. "What were you doing last year around this time?"

"Ugh, don't remind me," she groaned, a sour look making her frown momentarily. "I was in a bathroom stall breaking up with my ex. Then Phee got us so drunk that we ended up blacked out before the countdown. I still don't know how we got back to her house or why we were cuddled up in her bed like that."

"Sounds like the kind of chaos you three get into when you're unsupervised."

"Whatever." Patrice laughed before making her fingers dance across Terry's broad shoulders. "What about you? What were you doing?"

Terry let a wry smile creep across his face. "Alone and sleeping. I didn't think there was much to look forward to, and I had to work in the morning anyway. Don't even think I turned the TV on."

The thought of Terry sleeping in on the night handpicked for blind optimism drew a sympathetic look from Patrice. "We both had a rough go at it, huh?"

"I don't know, mine was pretty chill. You were the one missing chunks of time." Patrice took faux offense at his joke, slapping across his chest before they let off laughs that slowly dissipated into a comfortable silence. 

Terry rested his head atop Patrice's, his mind taking a winding road back to the beginning while she hummed a made-up tune to herself. 

"Fifth-period Forensics with Mr. Turner. Junior year. You were wearing little strawberries crocheted on a pink sweater and your hair in a high ponytail. Kind of like tonight."

Patrice looked up and tilted her head in confusion. "What?"

"That's the moment I fell in love with you. I'd always liked you, but that's the moment I realized that I loved you," he clarified. "I spent so much time denying it, tiptoeing around how I felt and trying to find you in other women long after we were done, but I kept coming back to you acing that pop quiz in a pink strawberry sweater."

Patrice chuckled and smiled, recalling the time when her feelings blossomed beyond butterflies in her tummy at the mention of his name into a full-bodied, ever-present yearning for his heart. 

Terry waited expectantly, longing to know if there was a moment for Patrice – if her love had a spark that rocked her world the way she did so long ago for him. 

Flashes of bright light and distant cheering cut in just as Patrice seemed ready to confess, stealing her attention for a second too long. 

She gasped like a child on Christmas morning. "Look, baby! We can see the fireworks from here." Patrice tugged Terry along, all two hundred plus pounds of him yielding to her will slowly but surely. 

He had to admit, the sight was beautiful. Bright flashes of light turning into whimsical bursts kept him captivated as the clock ticked down the final minutes of the year. He slowly embraced her from behind, needing to feel her warmth combined with his for comfort. Patrice watched in content silence, smiling to herself while Terry watched the show unfold from the reflection in her glasses. 

Two minutes left. Two minutes to cap off a whirlwind 365 days and march triumphantly into a new slate. Two minutes to release long-forgotten truths buried in the recesses of Patrice's mind. She leaned back against Terry and craned her neck to admire him from her vantage point. 

A jawline fit for a man meant to be showcased to the world. Piercing eyes that shifted and changed with his emotions. Skin marked with blemishes telling countless stories – some he'd share and others that would follow him to the other side. Full pink lips that talked her through good, bad, and intimate times. All the features that might grace a child not yet named and growing in her womb.

"Senior prom night. You told me you loved me, and I said it back because I always said it back. But, that time, it felt different. It wasn't like sayin' it to my parents or my friends or the stray cat Mama let us feed. A different part of my heart meant it. That was the first moment."

Terry looked down at her, smirking and silently encouraging her to continue. She turned in his arms and then took hold of his ears to rub gentle circles against them. 

One minute left. Seconds dwindling. She continued. "The second time was today. And I hope there's a third, a fourth, and one hundred more to come. I never want to stop falling in love with you, TJ." 

Terry squeezed her a little tighter as if she might vaporize and blow away if he didn't hold on for dear life. "Yeah, me too," He whispered, drawing closer to her lips. "Never." 

Faint voices shouting a countdown in unison floated through empty streets and up to the 10th floor to surround a couple preparing to embark on a new journey. 

“Ten…nine…eight…seven…”

An excited buzzing, nearly perceptible by touch, sparked across the city. Heartfelt 'I love you's' shared as one breath passed between Terry and Patrice just before they connected lips and tongues. 

“Six…five…four…”

Colors painted their bodies from the window, bathing them in light one last time from January to December. A final salute from the Most High. 

"Three…two…one! Happy New Year!" 

Endless possibilities coated in an extra dose of magic felt real for the first time in forever. A lover's embrace carried hope and a promise. They'd start anew in lockstep the way the stars intended, with an extra set of fingers and toes to usher through life at some point in the future. 

But, for a moment, Terry and Patrice stood suspended in time, drunk off the taste of each other, ushering in the new year the only way they knew how. 

Together.

———————————

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[a-d-nox]

human design: the mind

the mind is considered the place where your thoughts come from. this is where heuristics are born - information is filtered, actions are rationalized, and understanding occurs. not everything is accurate based on what gates are conscious. this is where anxiety, obsessive thoughts, and overthinking begins. but also ideas, thoughts, and other ideas.

defined mind: human computer, constantly reviewing and/or researching, information overload, professional worrier, nitpicking, looking from problems where none exist, can't turn off thoughts, etc.

undefined mind: lax, contemplative, forgetful, clarity amongst chaos, other people's problems become yours, wanting to help others before helping yourself, openminded, being able to read what others are likely thinking, etc.

gates

4 - problem solver: fixing, solutions for problems that don't exist, over-preparedness, needing to always be doing something, puzzle lovers, can't understand something and getting anxiety from not being able to understand, over fixation, needing to lighten up, cleverness, having an answer for everything, whats relevant, etc.

11 - harmonious: imaginative, social harmony, utopia, seeking peace, consideration of others, fresh ideas, constant evolution, responsibility to others, change for the better, etc.

17 - follower: agree v. disagree, flexible thoughts, diplomatic v. healthy debater, opinionated, logical mindedness, understanding, forcefulness, fairness, opinions about everything, dogmatic, fixed on your own views, balance, impartialness, quality over quantity, etc.

24 - returns: rationalizing, constantly playing back the tapes, screenshots/receipts, preoccupied, interest in forensics, finding missing clues, conceptualizing, theorizing, set in your ways, etc.

43 - breakthrough: deep thoughts, one step ahead, unable to express self clearly, profound, wise, shifting everyone's perspective, wrapped up in your own thoughts, stubborn, unconcerned with other people thoughts, etc.

47 - realizing: thinking constantly, love for puzzles, lots of lightbulb moments, problem solver, abstract thinking, etc.

no gates: openminded, overwhelmed by everyone else's thoughts and worries, constantly reflecting on the world around you, getting cluttered with other peoples mental chatter, etc.

channels that connect from the crown to the mind

channels that connect from the mind to the throat

11 -> 56 - curious: seeking the meaning in life, insatiable, wanting to share new information with everyone, speaking your mind, excessive interest in a lot of things, interest in multiple beliefs systems, seeking firsthand experience, etc.

17 -> 62 - organized: strategic, logically minded, absorbing the facts and details available, giving concrete opinions and recommendations, well informed, futuristically minded, methodical, opinionated, enjoying debating with others, etc.

43 -> 23 - structured: giving insight, breaking new ground, changing the views of others, open 3rd eye, empowering others, provoking the reactions of others, lightyears ahead of everyone else, tactful, genius, authentic, confident, blurting things out, etc.

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[maryfailstowrite]

Rose's quote in the crossword of the literature insane girl MV will never not fail to amaze me. I absolutely love it and here's why:

"Ego cogito ergo (turbatus) sum."

First with the basics: "Cogito, ergo sum", the original (not really, because the real original was in french, but whatever) quote by René Descartes, translates into "I think, therefore I am". I don't think the meaning needs much explaining, because it's just... that. It's one of the first principles of Descartes's philosophy, and it states that one's existence is certain because to think, beforehand you need to exist. You can't doubt your own existence because to doubt, you need to exist. It's as simple as that.

But this interpretation of the phrase has little to do with Rose's character. There's a word (or maybe two, but I'll get to that later) that the MV adds, and that changes the whole meaning of the phrase.

“Ego cogito ergo (turbatus) sum.”

Rose’s quote translates into “I think, therefore I am (troubled).” This is not her doubting her existence or whatever, this is about her memory. “Thinking” here isn’t meant as in literally just thinking, but as in Rose’s thought processing and reasoning. Her photographic memory makes her have an overload of information to process at all times, and after processing it, she’s unable to discard it no matter what. She’s troubled, troubled because no matter what, she can’t forget. Every murder, every drop of blood, every gasp, every word is engraved in her mind, and no matter how hard she tries, she’s doomed to remember it all for the rest of her life.

A lot of people see having a photographic memory as a blessing. Almost like a superpower. They think of detectives solving murder cases because they remembered the exact position of one of the curtains at the victim’s house, or in Rose’s case, they imagine her making perfect replicas of a painting just after seeing it once. And, sure, maybe she can do that. She is the Ultimate Art Forger, after all. But I still think her photographic memory is much more a curse than it is a blessing for her.

Humans aren’t made to remember. We are made to forget a very big part of our lives, in fact. Do you remember exactly every meal you’ve ever had? Every shower you’ve taken? Every outfit you’ve worn? No, of course not. You don’t. Just like you don’t remember every single time someone has given you a strange look, or every time you’ve done something embarrassing.

Do you see where I’m going with this? Forgetting is a coping mechanism. Not only does it prevent our brains from overloading with useless information, it also helps us heal from bad experiences. If we remembered every single detail from all of our bad past experiences we would go insane, we would never heal from those memories and emotions. We could replay the memory over and over and over again to analyze what could’ve been different, what we could’ve done in another way, and what we could’ve ultimately done to avoid the situation. But as humans, we forget. It takes time, but the details start to fade one by one, and by the end, the bad experience is just a foggy distant memory, a mix of lingering feelings and a blurry outline of what happened, an outline that can’t hurt us anymore…

Except for Rose. Rose remembers everything. This is why the world is so overwhelming for her (let alone the killing game). She dozes off half of the day because if she wasn’t sleeping, she’d have to remember everything that happened at that time. I think it’s easier to picture it if you put it like this: Imagine if you were forced to memorize every single thing that happened around you for a day. Not just what you do, but what everyone in your view and hearing range does. It sounds exhausting, right? Well, welcome to Rose’s mind.

Rose is troubled because she can’t forget. Or rather, she remembers, therefore she’s troubled (see the parallelism I did there with the quote we’re analyzing???? see it????). She’s condemned to remember every detail of everything that has ever happened to her, to replay moments like movies and analyze them until she finds out what could’ve been better, what could’ve been worse, what she could’ve done different. The problem is, the past is the past, and no matter how much you replay it, it never comes back. It’s just an illusion, a nightmare that appears in front of you, and yet you can never reach. You can just watch as it unfolds, unable to change it, unable to do anything, unable to look away. She can never look away.

As an ending to this post, I’d like to take a closer look at another detail. The original phrase is “Cogito, ergo sum”, as it’s already been stated before, but the version used in the MV is “Ego cogito ergo (turbatus) sum.” “Ego” simply means “I”, so it doesn’t add much meaning (in fact, the original French is “Je pense, donc je suis”, so the pronoun was already there from the beginning), but I still think adding it emphasizes the meaning they want to give to the phrase. It refers to Rose’s personal experience, so instead of making it a general quote anyone can say “I think, therefore I am (troubled)”, they emphasize the personal meaning of it by adding the “I”, which can be perfectly omitted in Latin without losing the phrase’s meaning. It’s something more like “I think, therefore I am (troubled)”, and I think it’s a great detail to see how different Rose’s experience of existing is compared to everyone else’s, or at least, how different she considers it to be.

In conclusion, I’m a nerd that loves looking too much into things. Thanks for coming to my TED talk 🫶🏻.

[mayashesfly]

Unassorted RadioStatic Headcanons

Alastor used to call Vox "my good pal" while Vox used to call Alastor "Al" after a long time into their business partnership

Alastor had been the one to find Vox when he first fell into Hell and was the one that mostly offered the start of their business partnership. He had been quite curious about the strange fellow and his striking blue eyes and face (Taking into account the headcanon Alastor is colorblind)

The other Overloads were getting on Alastor's case for not providing anything that was required from an Overload even though Alastor didn't even want to become an Overload. So "mentoring" Vox becamr a sort of excuse for him

Alastor was somehow able to get audio of Vox's non broadcasted lines in Stayed Gone during their battle. Which may or may not have partially causes the blackout as he used the information he gotten from Vox's lines to throw them back at him. Welcome home indeed :)

Alastor was the reason for Vox and Valentino's matching broken antenna after a fierceful battle between the two where Valentino interjected in the middle of it. (Their picture together showed the two with undamaged antennas)

Vox and Alastor was trying to patch up their relationship after Vox accidentally wronged Alastor with his "upgrade" mindset but Alastor took more offense to Vox bringing Valentino into their business and promptly fucked them up while he also got fucked up himself

Vox was the one that made the Radio Hack Star Logo. And Alastor was the one that provided the "Bar" and "Record Store" building as their first official place of business. "I'm so glad you've noticed the delightful smiles on the roof railings, my good pal!" "Delightful? More like tacky, you old-timey prick"

Their "vintage" and "upgrade" aesthetic used to be a harmless running joke between the two of them

Vox gave the idea of calling their business partnership "The AV" Alastor frankly loved it even though he wouldn't say it outloud to not overinflate Vox's ego

The way Old TV Head Vox blushed was through static. They would start at his cheeks before fully consuming his projected face when thoroughly flustered. Alastor would sometimes say he was "snowing, my dear"

The way New TV Head Vox blush though was through red lines on his cheeks, beating in tune to his heartbeat. Well, if he was truly flustered beyond belief. Normally, he just seemed to have a normal cartoonish blush if his heart wasn't truly moved.

Alastor was able to increase the strenght he would be given once he arrives in Hell while he was in the Living World which was why he was able to overpower the Overlords he took down. However, a certain present deal has restricted the powers he was granted through that method.

Neither of them actually put in their all when they fight each other physically. Even when things get heated between them, they can never truly bring themself to completely kill the other. (Even if they'll regenerate)

When Vox was human, he had heterochromia eyes. Which gave people some questions if he was actually mixed unless he covered up his right brown eye. He was able to keep it under wraps through the use of contact lenses despite the possible danger of using them (especially so early on in its development) so he could be a part of tv.

When controversy aroused because of his actual appearance, he may or may not have caused a little scarring in that area. (He hated how he looked liked)

He died shortly after, and the scarring and mismatched eyes never left him in Hell. Much to his chagrin.

Vox was the one that photographed them for That Picture since he knows Alastor wouldn't want anyone else to know that he even allowed himself to be photographed in the first place.

Alastor still has his copy of the picture, fully intact if not properly folded up in one of his pockets. Though we all know what happened to Vox's personal copy....

[sugar-grigri]

The nail that sticks out gets hammered down

Guns, nails, katanas: I think it's interesting to read this title not just in terms of the chapter's construction, but as three notions serving the same idea, which is what we're going to develop. 

The chapter opens with the students, followers of the Church of Chainsaw Man, who don't really know what to do with their weapons. They weren't even aware that they had so many, which marks a continuity with the last chapter, when Nobana wasn't even aware that there were weapons.

Their reaction becomes the opposite when their superior gives them a reason to interpret the weapons differently - they're no longer guns in the hands of children, but a continuation of Chainsaw Man's message and power.

I think that's an easy interpretation to have, but it's one worth establishing for the sequel. The guns are only a third part of the reasoning, after all. 

When the fiend arrives on the scene, it's also interesting the moment and the way they's cut off. Strangely enough, the fire doesn't start until they begins to suggest that children shouldn't be holding weapons, as if someone wanted to prevent them from provoking an awakening of conscience. All symbolic, of course. 

I insist on the fact that the response of the weapons is instantaneous because in French the line is well cut (I read both versions because sometimes it helps me to have a re-reading on certain lines and I perceive better the indicators notably on the tone… And yes, you missed the fiend saying Ouh Là Ouh Là Là… )

The fiend seems to have a strong desire to protect children. Which gives us an idea of the demon they might embody. A common trait that could be given to fiends is that they are beings (and I say this with all the love I bear them) intellectually limited or rather who have a way of reasoning that is more animal and demonic (logical, they are demons they embody) than human.

Whether it's Power, who only reasoned through the prism of domination, or Beam, who considered himself Chainsaw Man's pupil and follower, the possessed reason strictly through hierarchy, or rather through a kind of food chain, which is typically bestial. 

Seeing what looks like a fiend, or even a devil, reasoning in terms of child protection induces the idea that they must have something to do with these children to reason in such an abstract way as child protection. 

Especially as it's something they embodies rather than understands themself, since they remains demonic, bashing in the skull of a child they themself wanted to protect, but had spoken to wrongly, as if this "lesson" were also part of his upbringing. 

That's why I interpret this fiend as harboring the devil of studies. Which is logical? It's one of the main fears of young people in particular, whether it's the choice of direction, exams, or even because it's related to the future, studies are a subject of anxiety. 

Particularly in a Japanese system in which the costs of studying are considerable, with university rankings that can be quite anxiety-provoking for high-school students. 

That's why this fiend is so revolted by the sight of children with weapons, and nails them to walls rather than brutally killing them all.

Moods and compassion are not necessarily inherent concepts in the fiends, even if they are capable of them, as we saw with Power.

But then again, if Power changed her behavior, it was only with regard to Denji and Aki, because they were part of her pack and her entourage, just like Meowy.

Sacrificing herself for Denji, even if she did in the end, was by no means obvious, hence the fact that there were several pages before her second death where she considered two options: her survival by helping Makima and her certain death to protect her brother. 

That's why the fiend's words are so strange and put me on the trail of the study demon.

Skull-hammering, or being overloaded with information and knowledge to be accumulated, is symbolized by this protruding brain. 

In the same way, the fact that the demon possessed has no eyes symbolizes the school system, whose aim is to develop students without actually seeing them. 

I was thinking about the hammer, but the title indicates that it's the nails we should be thinking about.

Hence the title of this analysis, which takes up a famous saying :

The nail that sticks out gets hammered down

Obviously, this saying alone cannot reflect the complexity of Japanese society, which is sometimes even used as a caricature by the Western media. 

Nevertheless, without falling into caricature, it symbolizes a simple idea: Japanese society, unlike Western society, puts the collective before the individual. 

This doesn't mean that the individual is completely erased, but that he is encouraged to consider his behavior from a more global angle, one that transcends himself. 

It's simply a saying that can be understood as advice: if you step out of line, you can expect to encounter more difficulties.

This is as true for a Japanese society as it is for a Western one. I'm not establishing any hierarchy of values.

Hence the nails, which freeze individuals where they belong. 

That's why this possessed person has an aversion to seeing students with guns: it's not just for protection, it's also for compartmentalization. Society doesn't give students the role of assailants; their role is to have a criterion in their hands. 

We continue with this superior, who also happens to be possessed by the demon of justice. His posture is not only interesting in that it's a completely instrumentalized justice in the sense that it puts children in danger for a better purpose, but it's above all the thesis of necessary evil, i.e. fighting evil with evil. 

If human morality were to be summed up, it would be through this maxim: preventing wars with wars, protecting like Chainsaw Man while endangering students - that's the whole human contradiction.

So, of course, the fiend find him vain when he argues that he is the best incarnation of justice.

It's typical of man to imagine himself superior to other species. 

We end on Katana, who arrives with a cutaway (which I loved) to declare that there's no justice with Chainsaw Man. 

So, in one line, we put back in place all the originality of this character, and I find it incredible. 

This line is both true and ironic!

True, because Chainsaw Man humiliated him by killing his grandfather, winning against him and beating his private parts with Aki to avenge Himeno. 

But above all, Katana Man has been brought up among the Yakuza, who he believes are governed by the same principles as his grandfather, to the point where he firmly clings to this position.

Katana Man hasn't evolved at all on this issue .

Ironic, given that Katana Man's grandfather was Denji's debt collector, the man who ended up ordering the overindebtedness and dismemberment of a child.

Indeed, Denji has no idea what justice is, for his life is profoundly unjust, whether it's being indebted for his father's misdeeds or dying prematurely. 

Above all, he doesn't take justice into his own hands; Denji didn't take revenge on Aki and Power with Makima, he saved her, just as he pursues his own personal goals of killing demons; they don't slaughter demons to bring justice to all those unjust deaths, he fights because they turn him on, he's an instrument, not a vigilante. 

What the chapter speaks to in these three themes is the whole paradox of protection, whether it's seeking justice through the church by sending children as gunpowder.

Whether it's trying to protect these children by enclosing them in a school system.

Whether it's protecting ideals that are unfounded. 

Once again we follow the analysis of the last time, public hunters choose weapons or possessions that limit the damage to the teenagers who constitute the nation's precious asset. The church uses children as a kind of barrier, not because they think they're good soldiers, but because they're moral barriers. So they send a possessed man convinced that he's protecting the children.

Or a weapon who thinks he still has a man's heart.

It's not just a clash between the two camps; it's also a battle for public approval.

Katana Man and Chainsaw Man are two sides of the same coin, the same story. While one has known a loving grandfather whom he loves so much that he closes himself off in denial (to the point of always refuting Denji's version that he murdered his grandfather as a zombie, even though the only legacy he left him was a zombie weapon), the other has known the monster and has therefore not internalized concepts such as love, compassion or justice.

Katana Man is a weapon who has been instrumentalized by the Yakuza, and is still deluding himself to find meaning in his existence, while Denji is one of the few weapons living strictly for himself at the moment.

He's the only one who truly follows his heart !

[the-nysh]

Oh Meryl.....:') This will be a longpost commentary on the events of Trimax vol5 & 6 primarily from her perspective, so let's get into it!

Alright, so remember the foreshadowing in Meryl's line about seeing Vash's 'entire enigmatic past' from Trimax vol3?!

Well in Trimax vol5 all that becomes true! When getting 'touched by an angel' directly connects her to Vash's memories through contact with his feathers, she gets a front row seat to personally SEE, feel, and experience ALL the worst pain and trauma Vash has endured over his functionally immortal lifetime of horrors!!! Bearing witness to just how heavy a burden of sorrow and torment he's suffered carried with him that she's always wondered about; now she knows the full context of everything.

From witnessing his lone struggles as a younger child first learning how to use a gun, grinding through all his bloody mistakes, losses, and failures, to the worst calamity that he, as a transformed nonhuman 'gun' himself, became capable of unleashing on the planet: the terrifying destruction of July itself.

As Vash regains his lost memories of July through a meltdown of grief, regrets and revelations of his own (how firing his power inadvertently killed everyone he knew and loved), all at once, his pain while reliving those horrors of the past resonates to become her pain. (Remember this for vol6!)

And just to grab a mic to reiterate, Meryl is only a normal human woman here, with no special powers or superhuman training to prepare her how to handle any of this! (This disaster exceeds her realm of expertise!) She’s also the only one who gets to see, understand, and resonate with the entirety of Vash’s pain and feelings on such a direct, private, and literally mind-melding intimate level of connection. (Linking the human with the inhuman/monstrous.) So of course she’s terrified! Being thrust into such an unprecedented dangerous situation, witnessing inescapable horrors beyond human comprehension, AND by getting a very real demonstration of Vash’s power (on the verge of exploding out of control) and his transformed inhumanity RIGHT UP CLOSE AND PERSONAL!  

So it’s truly a testament to her mental fortitude and resilience that she didn’t just break from the information overload or succumb to the level of despair and terror right there--no, she bravely keeps her wits about her, and despite everything she remains on Vash’s side, shooting first to defend him (aiming right for Legato using the gun she picked up from Zazie's corpse) as the one who breaks the multiple-way stalemate between all their enemies instead! GO MERYL!!!!

(It's why this moment's probably one of my top favorites in the whole manga!!! ;o;) Cause the entire time, even while under severe mental distress, crawling through the rubble with his powers and feathers surging everywhere, Vash had kept her safe and physically unharmed within his wings, and then her first action upon surfacing was to take charge to protect him in turn!! I love it; cause even during such a dire emergency and all the mental stress she's put under while in the heat of the moment, her faith and dedication (to fight without hesitation at his side) still aim true~

And even after Legato critically pushes the crisis from bad to worse, to the point Vash is provoked into almost firing his Angel Arm in feral-retaliation to stop him (holy foreshadowing of their future duel!) with Meryl literally stuck in the middle of all this chaos (while shocked, powerless, and terrified--bless her heart) as Vash struggles to regain control of himself...

(Note: even Wolfwood was blown back by the surging energy, but with Meryl literally RIGHT THERE under Vash, it's amazing she didn't get hit being that close to him.) ...she STILL doesn't run away from him once the dust settles, and is in fact the first one to approach him in concern to ask if he's ok after...

(So whew, a relieved round of applause for Meryl remaining strong in the active face of so much strife!!) The immediate aftermath of this whole experience gives her the tangible proof and perspective from Vash to understand and fear that Knives--as his twin in power but having the actual intent to destroy the world behind it, is fully capable of ending humanity's future.

Of course, the experience doesn't also leave her unscathed without any lasting mental scars to cope with...as Trimax vol6 so graciously shows us how things will always Get Worse before they can get better...

Where sure enough, she's already having difficultly sleeping with night terrors and loss of appetite--it's honestly no surprise the terrible experience has given her symptoms of ptsd she'd be made of something unbelievably superhuman if she weren't affected, and consulting with Wolfwood unfortunately doesn't offer her anything (helpful) she doesn't already know...(cause at this point, she's literally seen more of Vash, especially the amount suddenly exposed to all at once, than Wolfwood could possibly know how to advise her on. He's still struggling with plenty of his own fears vs loyalties towards Vash himself.)

Only that he stresses the importance she weighs her options now to make the decision to quit her job while she still can (a choice and the freedom to 'get out' that Wolfwood comparatively doesn't have under direct orders from Knives) to remove herself and Milly from getting further involved with Vash--specifically the life-threatening danger he poses as a living weapon (despite his best intentions and character as a person!) set to explode with the firepower to raze the world--if Meryl values her life.

But truly, how does Meryl feel about that? What does she value and care for more, that'd be most important to her--her life or her job? Is following Vash (surveilling him for 'risk management') more than just a job to her at this point? What about her feelings towards him as a person--the man she already knows, vs her need to reconcile with the truth (that he's not even human!) that she didn't know until just recently. Is the level of imminent danger and risk she's putting herself into, now that she fully understands how dire, truly worth it (for him) this time? And if she still truly cares for him, does it even matter what he is? Despite any pros or cons and conflicting feelings about it, which will ultimately remain the stronger reason compelling her choice to stay?

Whew! She has many things to evaluate and consider going forward, especially if she wants to continue at his side. (And as Wolfwood stresses, continuing puts Milly at risk too, so that's even more weight/responsibility to balance on Meryl's shoulders.) Including processing the very nature of her fears--to identify what it is that truly terrifies her (is it truly Vash or something else?) before she can hope to face or overcome them. Before this biggest hurdle tips the scales to debilitate her resolve or outright prevents her from continuing her job at all. For now, she thinks and relates back to the firepower she gained when she first fired a gun...

And ah, HERE IT IS, she recalls what's scared her the most from her own past memories: "I gained the power of death at my fingertips. It was terrifying." Cause the first time she ever shot a person and realized the weight of the power she holds, she hated it. Shocked, collapsed, paralyzed, coming undone in the streets, closing herself off from others, regretting her action terribly... It was all too much. (Sound...familiar to the guilt and regrets of someone else we know? Meryl's shooting style is also notably non-lethal...because she too doesn't like to kill! When her first time wielding 'death' with her Derringers upset her this badly that she needed to adjust to be able to continue her job that required arming herself with this type of power...)

So remember when she resonated with the pain of Vash's memories? Seeing when he first struggled learning how to use a gun too, and all the blood and loss that accompanied it? However...his experiences didn't just end there, with only his first time shooting a person.....cause the first time he shot his real power (without him knowing what would happen) he caused the destruction of an entire city, killing everyone he loved in it! He didn't just 'gain the power of death at his fingertips,' he literally BECAME it, armed with the power to end the world. Hating and regretting his action so terribly, the catastrophe traumatized him with amnesia and led to a full-blown meltdown in grief and despair once he finally remembered. With Meryl there, witnessing and feeling all of it along with him. (His pain became her pain; his trauma became hers...)

That the sheer magnitude of wielding that kind of terror, as an intrinsic, inseparable part of himself (unlike a handheld gun you can choose to put down; he can't), let alone carrying the fear of it going out of control again if he's not careful, is indescribable. And if Meryl can now understand the gravity of that in relation to her own gun experiences (when the memory of firing her Derringers was already enough crushing weight for her to fear) then as the peace-loving person she knows him to be, who's always tried his hardest not to kill anyone, the crushing multitudes she knows he must feel now upon recovering his memories filled with so much death unleashed by his own hands must be unbearable. Feeling precisely just how much MORE terrifying and overwhelming the burden must be for him. It makes her wonder HOW can he still even bring himself to pull the trigger?!

Just look at Meryl's collapsed posture, it's the same she felt in her own past experiences...only this time it's directed in relation towards him--almost expressed in his place for the crushing weight he must feel. She's outright screaming/crying/bawling for him in empathy for the pain he must feel every time he's forced to fight and shoot someone with so much baggage behind it. Oh Meryl....:') (This is probably the strongest we've seen her cry for him...and it certainly won't be the last she cries in concern to relieve the pain of his burden.)

And Meryl, watching him fight on regardless, becomes struck and speechless for another reason, as she realizes how much his incredible strength and fortitude allow him to push past his unbearable pain to continue his job: "I felt...his determination is even stronger than the regret he carries."

Which is true, for the same stronger feeling that compelled him to stop at nothing, despite being on the verge of total collapse bearing his regrets of July, when he grit and forced himself to continue on his mission to save her from the Dragon's Nest. :') This is how he does it; how he continues to fight for what's important. (And yes she was that important, as the thought of losing her like his loved ones at July, is what fueled his determination back then to keep going.)

However, the struggle is never easy, as Vash, for his own part, masked behind his new goggle-edged glasses and kind Rem-like smiles 'as usual,' has not been coping well behind closed doors at all. (That Meryl could even sense an air of unusually 'off' distant/detached/avoidant behavior from him that she asks Milly about it.) We see him immersing himself in thousands of rounds of (non-lethal) target practice til his hand bleeds, and when drilling that level of focus + exposure isn't enough to take the edge off, he visits a church during service to hear a sermon on forgiveness...only for him to deem it hopeless there's no possible release from his sins when he can't even forgive himself, and there's even evidence he'd been drinking in not-quite-so savory (healthy or responsible) ways--unsettling even Wolfwood that something's uncannily off with him. (All being different attempted coping methods to drown out and escape the pain of his past regrets, but even Vash knows it's impossible now to forget...)

So all it takes is one slip-up when he's depressed off his game for everything to tumble into a trainwreck... Where Meryl seeing him block a bullet with his powers (instead of his usual self-aware dodging?) triggers all that terror to come flooding back into a panic attack.

Where it's truly unfortunate (and oh it hurts...) as an accident, something involuntary--a messy, instinctual reaction completely beyond either of their control. Cause Meryl didn't anticipate her ptsd to manifest and incapacitate her like this! that a single flash of his feathers would remind her of Everything--of all the worst horrors those powers are capable of when unleashed, the weaponized death and terror it represents, and the very moment she felt and experienced all of it while trapped powerless and panicked to do anything... No no no, returning to that headspace is horrible; it's all still too fresh to relive and TOO MUCH trauma for a human like her to bear; she couldn't help coming undone in the streets in a far worse way than she's ever had before (and I don't blame her.)

And Vash didn't mean to publically out himself as a nonhuman 'monster' to everyone either, when tensions were already high following Knives' mass murders for them to link the same culpability towards him, while he's still struggling to get a handle on his newly awakened powers too--ohshit indeed when they suddenly manifest and the truth breaches containment freaking everybody out in a witch-hunting mob of scorn, fear, misunderstandings, and hatred. (Ouch...)

What's more, Vash probably didn't even know Meryl had seen his memories, or had been affected by his trauma to such an overwhelming degree--since the transfer happened more as an autonomous side effect of his powers activating rather than anything he purposely intended....(once again, unintended consequences beyond his control; he never meant to cause any of this harm!!) So from his perspective he probably doesn't fully understand how to interpret her distress (apart from the crowd's?!) or know what to do to help. Cause reactions from strangers are one thing to bear, but if he sees her reaction to him--and his nonhuman display, as anything like theirs...then it's so much worse cause it's Meryl, who's known and been with him since the beginning. She's someone important he cares for...and now she's hurt and visibly scared from yet again another mistake he can't undo. ohno ohno he knows he messed up...

(Plus poor Milly has no context to understand what's wrong, or why Meryl's so upset either, since she'd been knocked out during the later parts of the Dragon's Nest to know what happened. So now she's alarmed and concerned trying to process why everything's suddenly gone to shit, anchoring Meryl the best she can, while shaken by the pain and cruelty Vash endures in such a situation masked with a smile...)

Despite the stones thrown by the crowd (nooo~) Vash's first priority concern is to run straight over to check on Meryl...

*And here's where I scream bloody murder* Cause that single flinch--from reaching towards her with that arm too, probably hurts him more than any of those stones thrown at him in hatred and revulsion that he's a monster. Cause to him it probably reads as a perceived rejection from Meryl (noooo~), and the amount he's hurt from realizing he's the one who hurt her this way....ohhhhh his crushing guilt must be heart-shattering...;A;

But there's no time, as before Meryl's even ready to speak or clarify how she feels, the choice she previously had on whether she wants to leave or stay is taken from her as Vash is the one who's forced to leave her instead. :')) The only thing Vash can do is repeatedly apologize as he runs away he can't even say goodbye--Wolfwood has to say that for him...and admit to Wolfwood how much he 'really feels like crying.'

(And once again poor Milly, left with no other explanations, can only read how much his pained empty mask of a smile has broken...)

What sucks even more, is knowing how much Meryl had already empathized with his pain (she could already feel that strongly for him!) and being in no condition to explain herself or her fears to him, once her panic subsides, she's bound to feel that much more terrible with guilt from realizing how her reaction (especially her flinch) had unintentionally hurt and pushed him away....leading towards a bad result she simply couldn't help and had no power to change...what a disaster.

But is someone as usually brave and tenacious like Meryl going to let that be the end of it? Broken on a disastrous parting and painful misunderstanding (she never meant to 'reject' him!!!) she literally had no say over? What of her brand of determination--especially towards what she feels (and decides) is most important, becoming stronger than the pain and regrets she carries? (Just like Vash! Can she find it within her to continue, or start over, inspired just as he does?)

Her struggle now becomes finding that strength (even a driving belief) to tentatively (re)build that trust and acceptance between them towards recovery. To endure, fight, and conquer those horrors to bridge (reconnect) the gap between the human and monstrous that separates them. (Especially if she truly cares and wants to do it--for the sake of what Matters, for what'll make the effort Worth it.) It'll be huge and seemingly insurmountable for any other person bearing the same strife she carries, but you can do it Meryl, I believe in you~~

[infiniteeight8]

Since you mentioned having more Tony & Soul ideas I would love to know what comes next in that verse <3

It’s been awhile since we returned to Tony & Soul! :D 

The rest of the series can be found here: https://archiveofourown.org/series/3910384

For the record, although this ficlet involves shapeshifters, it has nothing to do with Secret Invasion. This whole ‘verse goes AU after Titan, so none of that applies. These are just generic shapeshifters, rather than Skrulls.

-

“They’ve started mimicking us,” Natasha says tensely. “Be careful who you leave at your back.”

Tony swears. These shapeshifters had started off hiding in plain sight as objects and had moved on to copying civilians, which had made them difficult but not impossible to identify. Apparently, whatever it is that enables them to take on a shape had adapted again. “They won’t have comms, though,” he says.

“No, but we’ve already lost contact with Steve,” Natasha says. “We can’t tell a damaged comm from a compromised comm.”

“Tony,” Stephen calls out, flying over. Tony tenses; does the mimicry extend to flight? “They can’t hide their souls from you,” he says when he’s close enough not to shout.

No one but Stephen knows about Soul. Tony relaxes. “Look for people without connections to me?” he guesses, already tapping into the sense that shows him the soul threads. Most of the civilians have cleared out already.

But Stephen shakes his head. “A battle might be enough to establish a connection. You need to look for the shape of their souls, not just their relationship to others.”

“Shape, right,” Tony mutters, but he concentrates, letting Soul help adjust his perception. Suddenly the few civilians still hiding from the battle flare brightly. Tony rears back and curses, automatically shading his eyes even though this brightness has nothing to do with vision. 

“Tony! Are you okay?” Stephen’s hovering close by, and his soul is the brightest of all. Tony is seeing so much, he can’t even process it.

Soul steps in and suddenly everything eases down until he’s only getting a general impression of people. Tony lets out a breath. “I’m okay,” he tells Stephen. “Just a little information overload. I’ve got it now.”

It turns out that aliens have very differently shaped souls than humans. Tony has no trouble at all telling them apart. With Stephen’s help, the remaining shapeshifters are quickly rounded up and secured. 

“How’d you pick them out?” Natasha asks while she, Tony, Stephen, Steve, Sam, and Bruce wait for the appropriate authors to retrieve them.

If he says he adjusted his suit sensors, they’ll want to know how, for the future. But Tony isn’t ready for anyone to know about Soul. Not yet. One day he’ll have to explain, but—

“I cast a spell,” Stephen says. “It took some time to adapt; these shapeshifters aren’t like those I’ve seen before.”

Natasha raises her eyebrows. “There’s more than one kind?”

“Many more,” Stephen assures her.

She shakes her head. “Great. The universe is a wonderful place,” she says dryly. 

“Thanks,” Tony tells Stephen later, when they’re alone in the Sanctum. “For covering for me.”

“Any time,” Stephen says, smiling.

“I will tell them, eventually,” Tony promises. 

Stephen leans forward. “They’re not entitled to know, Tony. Whether or not you share this with them is entirely your choice.”

Tony has to laugh; that’s not an opinion he hears much. But he can feel Stephen’s sincerity, and he can’t help but bask in it a little. “Eventually, someone is going to notice I’m not aging, if nothing else.”

“There are illusions I can cast that would take care of that,” Stephen says. “I mean it: What you share with others is entirely up to you.”

That promise leaves Tony a little breathless. “Thank you,” Tony says again, because he can’t seem to find any other words.

[accenderesposts]

Remembrance and March 7th Theory

Just started on The Herta's part of the quest so I haven't fully finished yet, but what I have a theory that's been on mind.

Himeko said at the beginning that it's doubtful that March has a connection with Amphoreus. And honestly, if March does then it's way too obvious.

I have a feeling that rather than having a connection with Amphoreus, perhaps March has to do with Fuli or the Remembrance as a whole. Remembrance is one of the three Paths of Amphoreus, maybe Amphoreus is a red herring or something.

Oronyx refers to Fuli as "Sky Father" (as it's heavily implied), and is looking for "Mother" after they saw March's camera. Remembrance Path is heavily associated with ice so maybe... March is like, Fuli's wife or love interest? The Memokeepers (or even Fuli) themselves sealed her memories.

Just hear me out, I've been trying to find references of the other games since Hoyo likes to parallel characters (like how Furina is a contrast to Nahida). I started with the Flame-Chasers since most of Amphoreus' characters are expies and found a character that might be a good contrast to March; Fu Hua. Haven't delved deep into Honkai Impact lore yet (but I've been spoiled by the story), but I know a few bits of Fu Hua's character.

Fu Hua is fire while March is ice. Iirc, Fu Hua also has perfect memory (I think from her Mantis experiments?), which caused problems for her since her human brain can't handle tens of thousands of years of memories. That was why she had to erase parts of her memories to prevent information overload. On the other hand, March has amnesia and is still trying to regain her memories.

There's also the Honkai Impact 3rd X Honkai Star Rail collab trailer where March is placed against Fu Hua. What if this is foreshadowing?

Maybe March really is an ancient fossil (like, probably even older than the Xianzhou Alliance) and was probably frozen for many, many years (kinda like Griseo) and had only recently drifted to space.

What do you think?

[mychlapci]

Maybe Synth-En Ratchet, when he pins the miner Vehicon instead of burning them, gives into his instinct after chasing him down and rips off the panel and just pushes in. He's convinced himself not to give into any urges even with the Synth-En on Team Prime. But a Decepticon? A Vehicon?

The wailing makes it sound like torture until Team Prime gets close enough to hear the squelching and see he has the Vehicon head pushed into the ground aft pulled up pounding in while its babbling out anything Ratchet wants because he manually turned off the ability to overload. Team Prime just freezes unable to do anything but watch as he slams in getting the ladt of the information and still leaves it whimpering and begging aft up and shaking creampie overflowing for another overload. They all get a eyefull of Ratchet’s huge spike and knot being ripped out and Arcee whistles while Ootimus is frozen. He was a "good kid" and while he geard of Ratchet’s wild reputation Ratchet was always careful to put on a nice face around sweet innocent Orion and Optimus suddenly wants nothing more than to get pushed down and used just like the Vehicon.

Optimus shakily scolds Ratchet sending everyone back with their new Vehicon prisoner. Bumblebee sent first to clear out the base. He tries to ignore the spike still hanging out and how drenched he is while Ratchet rolls his eyes.

Things are tense when they get back, and Optimus can't sleep still horny and finds another sample missing, Ratchet gone and follows the pounding to find Ratchet going out the now gagged Vehicon again. Optimus freezes until Ratchet finishes overloading and without looking at him tells him to get inside and lock the door. Optimus is light headed as Ratchet pulls out grabs Optimus by the hips and throws him down telling him how slutty his waist is and how he knows damn well he wanted this. Optimus panels open before Ratchet has to ask, and Ratchet still hard is shoving in lifting Optimus half off the floor to get better force behind his thrusts.

When Optimus can't keep quiet Ratchet tells the Vehicon to fuck his mouth and if he does good enough he'll let him cream himself on Ratchet's spike finally.

Optimus is taken for a hard ride livibg his belly swollen and the last thing he sees is the Vehicon shaking apart as he is bullied on Ratchet's spike.

The Vehicon does manage to escape with a whole litter using the Groundvridge and not thinking to get the location and when tge Nemesis hears Ratchet's spike becomes everyone's White Whale and the Vehicon actually gets praise for bringing back potential medics.

Optimus meanwhile is very pregnant and Ratchet can't leave without being accosted for spike which with his sire instinct going wild to fuck means he's knocking anyone who flashes panels at him up after he pins and fucks them post "chase". Something that Megatron certainly doesn't expect or the strength of the grip not letting him even wiggle slightly away.

Sorry for the long rambling, but all the yes to Ratchet.

that vehicon is about to have the weirdest fucking day and a half ever. Ratchet manages to trap him under his foot and the synth-en is basically turning his processor into mush so before he knows it, he’s fucking up into the tightest hole he’s had the pleasure of fucking in milennia (did you see how small that mining drone was?), while the vehicon is mewling out information between begging for permission to overload. It is not at all what team prime expected to see, it’s just plain obscene. Everyone gets to see Ratchet’s huge spike with his knot swollen at the base and throbbing, and he doesn’t even mind. He’d probably walk back to the base with it hanging out, they have to stop him bc they don’t want humans to see that.

I fucking love getting that vehicon involved though, can you imagine that was you – the Autobots’ medic is clearly high out of his mind, fucking the Prime so hard he's squealing and moaning like a bitch in heat and Ratchet tells you to put your spike in his mouth (The Prime’s mouth) to keep him quiet? How can u say no to that.

Ratchet knocks up Optimus, a random mining drone, and when he goes after Megatron, instead of trying to kill him he uses his moment of surprise to pin him down and fuck him through his panels. Megatron probably enjoys it though. Then he goes back to the Nemesis carrying fat ambulance babies, and he can shake hands with that poor little mining drone.

I wonder who else Ratchet can knock up. His siring coding is making him feel even crazier than the synth-en, I wouldn’t be surprised if he ended up fucking the rest of team prime in the end.

[mlarty]

Hi! Do you have info about UTROBA anywhere? I've been looking through your tags and couldn't find any- sorry if i missed it.

I understand it's a work in progress and as such, things might not still be set in stone, but really, i just wanna know more about it. Any little crumb of info. What's the setting like? What is life like in this world? Is there magic, or is it science? What about the characters? And what are the godess and the deity? What is UTROBA?

As a sidenote, i absolutely love the illustrations btw. They are amazing. Love the colors, the composition, the smoothnes, everything! And they really make me wreck my brain trying to piece out a story, which i think is awesome as well!

Oh thank you very much... No, really wow, your attention and questions make us so happy rn :D We haven't really shared any detailed information here, yeah, but we publish all the texts on our Patreon - including open and free access. So far, we’re not talking about everything, but gradually sharing info about the world and characters more and more. But maybe now we’ll duplicate posts here :)

Tbh, we're not fans of sharing all the secrets right away, so if you don't understand something, it's totally okay. It's part of the process. We just don't want to overload you. And ourselves. But thank you for the questions. We love them

So, about the project… UTROBA is our original world, embodying metaphors of life and death, physical closeness and greed, love and fear. Even the name itself represents both birth and the act of devouring — Utrobа's predatory nature shows itself in countless ways, both real and mystical

This project is inspired by a mix of genres and influences, combining elements from dieselpunk and biopunk, body horror and psychological thriller. Utroba brings together the concept of “human monster” and “monster-human,” where the lines between the two are blurred. Here, we’ve included in everything we love: horror aesthetics, the beauty of the grotesque, and the darker aspects of human nature

Utroba also draws inspiration from artists like Giger and Masahiro Ito. Games like Silent Hill, Disco Elysium, Pathologic, and Dead Space shaped us deeply as creators too. And on top of it all, there’s a lot of influence from the post-Soviet space and the spirit of the Soviet era — that specific vibe and aesthetic have always been close to us and are something we want to share with others. To enjoy, intrigue, and, well…to scare too ahah

Through Utroba, we’re also finding ourselves as artists and creators, and we’re so grateful for the interest in our baby 🖤

[emotionallyattachednerd]

Sensitive ❙ TP Starscream x f!human reader ❙ NSFW 18+

Word count: 1700+

Warnings: Smut ( touching and grinding ) possessive behaviour and robot x humon contact. NSFW 18+.

Notes: Love my favourite seeker! This was a lot of fun to write and I really enjoy making Starscream a little creepy. Thanks for sending through and hope you like it. 🥰

Tips☕

You are a specialist, just like Agent Fowler, both working together with the autobots. Only difference is you've never even met the autobots or visited their base, you only pass on information from Fowler to the president.

That was Starscream's mistake. You end up in Starscream's clutches and are kidnapped from your home. It was his idea to gain the location of the autobot base from you. That fails.

Once you are proven to be telling the truth your usefulness is doomed. You expect yourself to be disposed of at that moment, but Starscream doesn't do such a thing.

He keeps you, as a pet.

As annoyed as you were about this you knew death was something you didn't want, so you sucked it up and tried your best to tolerate Starscream.

Being trapped on the ship for so long did have an effect on you, and you find yourself missing the dirt ground. Much to your surprise Starscream allows you to get sun and fresh air from the desk, as if he cared about your wellbeing.

He talks a lot, complains a lot, dreams big, just like most others do. You can only simply agree with him because it's what he likes, for you to listen and agree. That's all you needed to do for him.

The months you've been held captive on the Nemesis has felt like an eternity. You were excessively bored and tired of waiting to be rescued, if you were going to be rescued.

In Starscream's quarters you have your own little area he made up for you. Escape wasn't an option unfortunately, you've tried, and it only got you no food and water for three days. You didn't want to go through that again.

All you could do to survive was behave.

But you needed release, something to help you get through, and the only thing that was managing that was simply touching yourself and bringing out as many orgasims as you could without being noticed.

Your hands are both deep under your sweat pants, fingers pumping into your depths as the other is rubbing at your clit in fast circular motions.

Eyes closed you tried to picture something to help you come undone, squeezing your legs together as you wiggle your hips in sync with your hands.

It used to be so easy but lately you've been struggling to bring yourself to an orgasim. Your imagination was going bland.

Letting out a long exhale you keep trying, picturing anything, even Fowler. He was a decent handsome man. Surely there has to be something there. However, that is a solid no. Nothing.

"Fuck!" You curse out of frustration as you roughly remove your hands and slump them against the bed you laid on, breathing heavily and feeling so uptight.

Your heart sank when you heard the familiar loud snicker. Turning your head you see Starscream, leaning against the wall with crossed arms, that smug look you just want to scratch away. How long has he been watching you? The pervert!

"Having trouble?" He asks, his grin never leaving. Sick bastard is enjoying this.

You don't answer and try to bury yourself in you small bed, eyes averting from his lingering gaze. Your heart only picked up when you heard him approach and open the glass cage he had you in.

"Oh you poor thing, are you unable to overload yourself?" His tone is mocking, and your silence only makes him cackle lightly again. "You know, our kinds are not so different. We all have needs."

Suddenly his servo is reaching out towards you. You want to move away but his warning glare told you to be still. His razor claws remove the thin blanket off you, making your breath hitch.

What is the bastard doing?

You watch nervously one of his sharp digits ghosts over your loose clothes and down against the outside of your thigh, causing you to make a sharp intake followed by a whimper.

You've always had sensitive thighs, and it only added to your growing arousal, which he mistakes as fear.

"Are you frightened my dear?" His voice purrs closely. "No need to be. If I truly wanted to hurt you I would have done so a long time ago."

He was right about that.

But that doesn't help with your nerves from what he is doing. His claw catches onto your sweatpants and tugs them, ripping the fabric and causing a surprised yelp to leave you.

You don't try to stop him, or tell him to stop. Confusion runs over your face as you realise what is happening. You're getting turned on by this, by Starscream.

Well shit.

Your sweatpants are in ruins and gone from you. Your breathing increases as you feel his claw snake up under your top, ripping that fabric as well in half. The sudden exposure makes your face heat up in embarrassment. But you don't try to cover yourself. You were curious where this might go.

Starscream is rather pleased with himself; he is able to have this kind of reaction from you. Over the time he's had you he's been watching, even when you didn't know. He sees everything.

As you lay naked under his gaze he can't help his curiosity and thought perhaps he might be able to help with your little problem. Using the back of his digit, careful to not cut you, he drags down from between your breasts and against your belly, rubbing back and forward gently and bringing interesting sounds out from you.

You swallow thickly feeling the cold metal of his digit against your skin. Simply this is building warmth in your core, and that freaked you out a little.

A decepticon is making you horny. Terrific.

Another digit moves to your outer thigh, causing you to jump from the contact and another whimper leaving you.

"So sensitive." Starscream purrs, delight filly his voice and lustful gaze. "Humans are so delicate, yet I can't help but find myself more curious and drawn towards you."

His words linger through your ears but you don't really respond. Your breath hitches again as he adds a little pressure against your thigh, causing your back to arch up a little. Your nipples are so hard and perk already as you feel yourself becoming very damp in your core.

You haven't felt like this in a while. Despite it being wrong, you craved more, even if it means getting your release from Starscream.

"How about you, y/n, are you curious?" There's another silky purr in his tone as he whispers closely, digits rubbing against your body with care.

"A little..." You can only manage to whisper back, knowing he was expecting an answer from you, but you were also not lying.

You feel the back of his cold digit move lower until you feel him rubbing right up between your legs against your core, across your already swollen clit and moist lips.

Letting out a startled moan you can't help yourself as you spread your legs and grind down against him, heated huffs leaving your lips, eyes closed, relishing what you've been seeking for a time.

Starscream lets out a satisfied snicker, that wide proud grin across his face as he watches you react perfectly. "So eager, so needy, so greedy."

"So are you." You shoot back at him bluntly, and that was your mistake.

You suddenly feel the sharp razors against your skin, ghosting against your thigh and perk nipple in a threatening manner as your breathing picks up and eyes shoot open.

"Careful, dear pet. You should know by now that I don't like being spoken to like that. Now, I believe an apology is needed from you."

Swallowing thickly you find your voice. "I'm sorry." Barely a meek whisper.

"Louder." His tone is dark.

"I'm sorry...Lord Starscream." You remember he likes being called that.

This seems to help as his razors were gone, flipping his servo and using the back of his digits again. His returning satisfied snicker was the response you needed to know he won't hurt you, for now at least.

"Good pet. Now, shall I continue?"

You can only nod eagerly and let out another moan as he starts to rub your core again, adding pressure little at a time as you grip the bed beneath you and grind your hips down against him again.

Starscream is loving your reactions. He had you, control, you are at his mercy and loving it.

Your clit grinds against him just perfectly. What you couldn't get before with your own hands he was doing now for you just right. There was no care, not bothered who this was or what you are doing, you just float in the pool of pleasure blooming through you.

Feeling your thighs shake due to your arousal you let out a hitched yelp as Starscream uses his other servo to trace against your sensitive thighs, knowing this is one of your weak spots.

"Starscream." His name slips from your lips, moaning for him to keep going.

"That's right, say my name. I've got you at my mercy. You're an eager girl you are, falling apart from simple touches."

If this was just simple touches, you are not sure just what else he could do to you to make you come undone like this.

Your hand moves down to hold into the smooth metal as the curve of his digit bends right against your core and rubs firmly across your clit. Your other hand moves to your breast as you play with yourself, letting out soft gasps that turn into whimpers as you feel your toes curl and thighs quivery violently through the intense building arousal through you.

Suddenly, and shocking yourself, your core snaps. A powerful orgasim rushed through your entire body causing a loud high pitched moan to leave you. Juices soak between her thighs and over Starscream's digit still pressed and rubbing against you before slowly coming to a stop.

Slumping back in a panting mess you feel the back of Starscream's moist digit covered in your juices trace up against your body and across your breasts, making you moan lowly as the electricity continues to spark through you.

"Such a good human. Oh, what fun we shall have." He lets out a dark cackle lightly, red optics blazing across you as you lay there in your satisfied state.

Lots of fun indeed.

[cleos-cafe]

Obey me! Brothers with a MC who is overworked (pt.1)

Welcome back! I hope you are having a good day, please enjoy the content dear reader.

Pt. 1 (you're here) | Pt. 2 (soon)

-Sincerely with much love Dahlia★.

Summary: The exams season is just around the corner at RAD and this time you plan to give your best (as you usually do). So you decide to study one night with the "cramming*" method. Clearly this leaves consequences on your sleep schedule and so on. How would the brothers react to find you in this situation?

TW: mentions of lack of sleep, skipping meals, poor mental and physical care, stress overload, small mention of academic validation in some parts. Please stop reading if any of the topics make you uncomfortable.

Dictionary:

Cramming: the practice of working intensively to absorb large volumes of information in short amounts of time. It is often done by students in preparation for upcoming exams, especially just before them.

༶•┈┈⛧┈♛༶•┈┈⛧┈♛༶•┈┈⛧┈♛༶•┈┈⛧┈♛༶•┈┈⛧┈♛

Lucifer

Everything had started off simple, Lucifer decided to check for you at night as he used to do to make sure his brothers didn't leave the house late at night.

He knew that you had been making an effort to study and although on several occasions he praised you for your commitment, he was also worried that you were taking it to extremes.

Which was an accurate suspicion when he saw the light in your room still on, he simply sighed and went into your room.

His original plan was just to ask you to stop what you were doing and go to bed.

But the moment he noticed how you were biting your nails while you were anxiously moving your leg and trying to write clearly, he changed his plans.

The first thing he noticed was that you had headphones on, those headphones were given to you by Levi so they had sound cancellation.

Slowly he approached you and took off those headphones carefully, trying not to scare you in the process, then he put them aside and leaned towards you.

"MC you should go to sleep, I know you are anxious about the exams, but you need to rest properly if you want to give it your all, how about you collect your books and study material while I prepare some tea for you?"

Trust me, after that he will make sure you rest.

If you didn't get sleepy after you had that tea Lucifer started talking about how it was bad for you about exerting yourself (even though he does the same thing).

If you even mention that he does the same thing you'll get a look from Lucifer.

But you're right! Although your comment only made Lucifer start a lecture about how you being human makes your body incapable of sustaining a hard workload unlike him.

Hey, at least you're already asleep after listening to him talk for a long time.

After that encounter Lucifer somehow becomes more gentle with you, doesn't push you as much with some things and checks on you more often. He even brings you a snack or two from time to time.

"Remember that you are part of the family, we care about you a lot and I worry about seeing you neglecting yourself by overworking yourself and while I'm proud to know that you take things seriously I don't want you to hurt yourself in the process either. If you think I can help you with anything feel free to come find me, I'm available to you anytime."

Mammon

He would probably be the first one to notice something is wrong with you.

Usually hangs a lot around you and, now that you suddenly seemed to be occupied was pretty shocking for him.

He was making his way to your room since he wanted to spend some time with you (leave the man alone, he misses you).

Once he barges (it's that how it's spelled?-) into your room, he's surprised to see you biting your nails and almost pulling your hair.

Okay he may not be as gentle as Lucifer, literally rushing to you and grabbing both of your hands.

"Hey! Wat'cha think ya doing human?! Get yo hands out of your hair right now!"

Literally panicked the moment he smelled blood.

(Yeah the demons can smell blood, you can't change my mind).

Literally took car of you afterwards, he took he's time wrapping your fingers in band aids.

I think he would've take his time combing (again is it spelled like that? ಥ_ಥ) your hair carefully, even asked Asmo to let him borrow some products that could help with your scalp and hair.

After that incident he's a lot more aware of how much time you spend studying.

Will drag you outside or to you bed, he'll make you take a brake once in a while.

"I know ya' worried about exams and stuff and, even if I can't exactly help you with it.... It's important ya' take some breaks, k? So don't go worrying The Great Mammon like and take some breaks will ya?!"

Leviathan

He was one of the few who knew you were gonna study a lot.

After all you told him you were gonna have a break from your weekly hang out plays since you wanted to study.

He was kinda sad but he didn't tell you, since after all he knew your grades were important.

(Bc literally, you're and exchange student. It's supposed to be your duty to have good grades for the program)

Although that didn't mean he couldn't be in the same room with you right?

But of course, who would like to have just some company of a yucky otaku like him, right?

Well you do.

To summarize it, he knew about you stu(dying)but it took him a whole time actually do something about it.

After asking if you wanted to have him in your room (which you obviously said yes), he got his console and walked towards your room.

Did you forget about him coming to your room? Yes-

He was pretty shocked (not in a good way actually-) once he saw 1st his fast you were chugging that D- Energy and 2nd the amount of empty cans around the floor and desk.

"H-hey! Stop drinking it right now! Do you know how harmul that is?!"

Actually worried sick about you.

Did he have the same habit? Yes he does. Is he more worried about you then himself? Double yes.

He's very much aware of how harmul is a ton of caffeine in your body.

And after he forced you to take a break he starts rambling about how a lot of D- Energy can affect you.

He makes sure to be in the same room as you when studying after that.

The moment he sees you taking a bunch of D- Energy or sees how much you're stressing yourself, he steps in and makes you have a break but playing with you.

"I know this isn't something I usually say- but I'm worried about you okay? And I don't want you to be in so much stress so- if it's anything I can help you with, I'll do it okay? Ejem- n-now there's a few new features added to MonokeLand! Y-you wanna see them?"

[hvnlygrl]

angst scenarios.

5 stages of Grief

A kiss on the cheek that almost turns into a real kiss

A physical fight

A trail of blood

A “this isn’t the end” kiss when the other moves away

Accidentally saying “I love you”

accidentally/drunkenly confessing feelings

Addiction

Adrenaline crash

Almost saying “I love you” but stopping themself

Already in a relationship but falling for someone else

Ambush

Backhanded slap

Beaten half to death

Being forced to hurt them

Betrayal

Bleeding out

Blood from the mouth

Bloody clothes

Bloody knuckles

Bloody nose

Bounty on their head

Broken bones (nose, limbs, ribs)

Broken promise

Bruises

Buried alive

Burning fields / trees

Caught in a bad storm

Caught in a snare / bear trap

Calling them to tell them just how much you miss them

Carried while unconscious

Carrying them bridal style

Catching them when their knees buckle

Catching them with someone else and being jealous

Cheating / Infidelity

Childhood trauma

Cigarette smoke / ashtrays

Claustrophobia

Comms being cut off

Coughing up blood

CPR

Cracking a joke to cheer them up in a bad situation

Cradled in their arms

Crying into a pillow to muffle

Crying into their chest

Crying yourself to sleep

Dark past

Death scares

Deathbed confession

Defeated

Dehydration

Dislocated joints

Doesn’t realize they’ve been injured

Don’t let them see you cry

Dragging themself across the ground

Drowning

Drunk/high kisses

Dying in their arms

Emotional reunions

Empty bottles on the floor

Empty clip / no ammo

Explosion

Falling from a height

Fear Paralysis

Feeling like something is missing but not knowing when when you’re not with each other

Finding comfort in someone you’re supposed to hate

finger/ear in the mail

Flashbacks / memories

Forbidden Love

Forced prize fight

Forced to kneel

Framed

Friends with benefits where they both catch feelings

Funeral

Gaslighting / Toxic relationship

Giving up

Going into hiding

Going into shock

Good intentions, bad results

Grabbed by the chin

Gravesite

Hair matted with blood

Hallucinations

Heat stroke

Held at gunpoint

Hidden injury

Hiding from my past

Holding them while they cry

Home Invasion

Hostages

Hugs that last just a little longer than usual

Human shield

Hurt by a friend

Hyperventilation

Hypothermia

Impaled

Insomnia

Interrupted love confessions

Intoxication (drunk/high)

Keeping watch over their unconscious body

Kidnapping

Knocked out

Leaning in for a kiss but pulling away at the last second

Leaning onto them for physical support

Left for dead

Long lost love

Losing a pet

Losing their temper

Love confession

Memory loss

Mental abuse

missing/presumed dead

Mistreated by  thorities

Monsters in your head

Mutual pining

Natural disaster

Near death experience

Nervous / mental breakdown

Nightmares

No anesthetic

No good deeds go unpunished

Not realizing how important they are until you’re separated from them

Note left behind

On the run

Only one bed

Outnumbered

Overdose

Panic attack

Paranoia

Passed out drunk

Passing out from the pain

Patching them up

Physical abuse / domestic violence

PTSD

Pulling them back when something goes to fall onto them

Punctured lung

Race against the clock

Ran away from home

Raspy breathing

Rejection

Religious confession

Religious trauma

Resetting a broken bone

revenge/vengeance

Roadtrip

Running a hand through their hand to soothe them

Russian roulette

Sacrifice

Scars

Scars to remember

Secret relationship

Self-Cauteterization

Self-defense murder

Self-Loathing

Self-surgery

Sensory overload

Shaking / shivering

Shot with a bullet

Shot with an arrow

Snowed in for the night

Sole survivor

Stabbing / being stabbed

Starvation

Stitches

Stranded / Left behind

Stranger in a familiar land

Strapped to a bomb

Stumbling / staggering

Survivor’s guilt

Taunting

Taken while they sleep

Taking the blame

Taking the bullet

Tearful smile

Too hard on them

Tortured for information

Traumatic touch aversion

Trapped in a room/closet

Trust issues

Trying not to cry

Unhealthy coping mechanisms

Verbal abuse

Villain reveals the big secret

Voice breaking/cracking

Wind knocked out of them

Wiping their tears away

Wound that never heals

You caught me being reckless and flipped out

You’re my ex but i’m still in love with you

-> back to blog guide.

[llamagoddessofficial]

@aizawasluckylady commissioned a part 2 to adorable Skull rescuing you. I love this dork, he's such a joy to write.

--

You couldn’t help it. You’d been staring on and off for almost half an hour, at the two skeletons sat a few tables from you at the cafe. It took all the courage you had in you- but it was now or never, right? You'd paid for your food, you couldn't linger any longer. You finally took a breath, shifting your bag onto your shoulder... then you walked over, approaching their table.

You didn’t know who the lanky skeleton in the orange scarf was. He had nice, straight teeth, probably thanks to the hard work of his neat silver braces- a pair of glasses were perched on his face, taped into position on the sides of his skull. He was talking excitedly to Skull, who you absolutely recognised; he was your saviour, after all. Skull had a blue beanie pulled over his cracked cranium, and wore a comfortable looking chunky grey turtleneck. He had a relaxed expression on his face as the other skeleton talked on... his mug was empty, the tall skeleton’s still full of what appeared to be hot chocolate.

Even sat down, they were both tremendously tall. Skull was your height while sitting, and the taller skeleton had a few inches on you, they dwarfed every other person in the cafe. Looking at Skull, you couldn’t help but replay being carried by him, in your mind... all you could think about was how warm his arms he had been. How secure you felt when he carried you, the sensation of relief and gratitude that rushed over you. How nice he had smelled, how lovely his voice was... how intently he’d listened to you go on and on about the most menial of subjects.

... You tried to shut the thoughts up. You didn’t want to be obviously blushing when you said hi. 

“H-hey!” Your voice cracked- embarrassing. But you tried to make up for it with friendliness, fiddling with your bag strap. “Skull, right? It’s great to see you again.”

... The tall skeleton stopped talking. Both of them looked at you.

...

... Then they had very different reactions. 

The tall skeleton’s face lit up like a Christmas tree, his braced grin rising and sockets immediately sparkling as he set down his cup. Skull, on the other hand, went absolutely stone still; his big red eyelight shrank, he stared blankly at you.

“OH!! MY GOODNESS!!!!” Not-Skull turned in his chair to face you, leaning forward and grabbing your hand with both of his, shaking enthusiastically and unintentionally pulling you closer as your whole arm ragdolled in his excited shake. “IT’S SO GOOD TO MEET YOU! I’M PAPYRUS! YOU MUST BE THE HUMAN I’VE HEARD SO MUCH ABOUT!”

You blinked. “H... heard about...?”

Skull’s eyelight jumped from you to the other skeleton. You saw his grip increase on his cup. He made a panicked noise in the back of his throat- ‘Papyrus’ did not hear it.

“YES, OF COURSE!” He sounded absolutely delighted. “MY BROTHER RESCUED YOU WHILE WALKING, RIGHT? OH, HOW ROMANTIC! LITERALLY SWEPT OFF YOUR FEET! IT’S SO GOOD TO MEET YOU, GOSH I ALREADY SAID ‘GOOD TO MEET YOU’, DIDN’T IT? I’M JUST VERY EXCITED! HE REALLY LIKES YOU, YOU KNOW, HE HASN’T STOPPED TALKING ABOUT YOU- WHICH IS VERY UNUSUAL, SINCE HE USUALLY DOESN’T TALK MUCH AT ALL!” 

Your face flushed. What? Skull talked about you? “Uh,”

“pap.” Skull mumbled, iris all but boring a hole into his brother. Sweat had appeared on his head, his expression was completely unreadable.

“HOW IS YOUR FOOT? I’M GLAD YOU GOT HOME SAFELY, IT SOUNDED LIKE YOU HAD QUITE THE INJURY. HAVE YOU BEEN RESTING AND EATING WELL? GOSH, YOU’RE JUST LIKE HE DESCRIBED! YOU SEE, I RECOGNISED YOU IMMEDIATELY BECAUSE HE DESCRIBED YOU IN GREAT DETAIL!” 

... The informational overload was getting greater by the moment. Talked about you? Described you? Was that true? You glanced over at Skull, ears burning, overwhelmed and unsure of what to say or think. He looked equally as shaken as you- he was now staring at the table, slightly quivering.

“YOU DEFINITELY MATCH HIS DESCRIPTION!” Papyrus beamed. “THOUGH MOSTLY HE JUST WENT ON AND ON ABOUT THE FACT THAT YOU WERE VERY PRETTY, AND HAD A VERY NICE VOICE-!”

CRUNCH!

... You both startled, Pap looked over his shoulder. Skull had shattered his cup, shards of ceramic falling from his clenched fist. 

...

Some people were staring. Skull didn’t move.

“OH MY STARS, SANS!” Papyrus tutted. “YOU NEED TO BE MORE GENTLE. WAIT HERE, HUMAN, I’LL GO ASK FOR SOME HELP CLEANING THIS UP.”

Papyrus stood up, and quickly pushed you into his now unoccupied seat; right next to Skull. Then he rushed away.

...

You and Skull sat in stunned silence. You were still holding your bag like you were about to leave. Your face was beet red- you were absolutely mortified, you couldn’t read Skull’s expression. It felt like a hurricane had just passed through.

... That was not how you expected that to go. You’d been imagining a relaxed meeting, a few words, maybe one or two jokes and you doing most of the talking. Maybe, hopefully, getting his number. You didn’t anticipate something like that- through all the fluster you felt terrible, like you just embarrassed Skull in front of the entire cafe.

...

“... I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-” “i-i’m sorry, he’s-”

... You both closed your mouths at the same time. You also both sank into your seats, with equal amounts of ‘how do I do this?’ written on your faces.

...

“... That’s, erm... that was your brother, right?” 

Skull nodded. His iris was laser-focused on the table as he continued to sweat. You tried not to think too hard about what Papyrus had said- maybe it was a prank? Siblings did that to one another, right? You had no idea what their relationship was like. As much as your heart fluttered at the idea that Skull had liked you so much that he’d gushed about you to his brother, you had to bear in mind the possibility that Papyrus was pulling Skull’s leg. Teasing him in front of someone he knew.

(... Though for some reason, you got the sense Pap wasn’t like that.)

“He seems really nice.” You said, honestly.

“he is.” Skull replied softly.

...

“... i’m sorry.” He mumbled, using his other hand to reach up, pulling his beanie down over his face, suddenly seeming like he wanted to completely vanish. “you... h-had to hear... all that...”

Is he embarrassed because it was true? You hoped so.

“... It’s okay. Really.” You tilted your head. “I-is your hand...?”

... He finally unclenched it, only now remembering his fist was still closed, shards of ceramic falling out. Luckily, he still had the tray from his order, and all the pieces bounced onto that. There wasn't much of a mess, just a sad ruined cup.

“s’fine.” Solid bone probably didn’t have much trouble with pottery. 

He looked overwhelmed.

...

“Do you wanna stand outside for a bit?”

His eyelight finally flickered over to you, widening- like clouds parting, you could see readable emotions appearing on his face. Mostly positive ones, and a flash of relief.

“yes.” He wheezed, grin raising. “please.”

The two of you stood up together, Skull leaving his coat over the back of his chair to indicate that he was coming back and wasn’t just fleeing the scene of the mug-breaking crime. It took a few seconds of navigating the small maze of chairs and tables, but eventually you found yourself outside again with your back resting against the wall adjacent to the cafe door. You gratefully took in the fresh air, Skull quickly shuffling in beside you and shaking his hand of the remaining cup fragments.

“This is much nicer.” You said, enjoying the sudden sense of space. You always felt better outside. “... Uhm... how have you been recently? We haven’t spoken since the walk.”

... Skull’s cheekbones started to colour. That lovely gentle ultramarine flush. “... good.”

...

“your... leg?” He sounded hopelessly shy. Like he was trying.

“... Oh! My leg! It’s fine now.” You looked down at the foot, tapping the toe of your shoe against the ground. “Wasn’t broken after all, just sprained. I’m so lucky you found me when you did, it didn’t get any worse and it’s healing great. It still feels a bit sore, but it should be fine in a week or so, so long as I’m gentle with it. I think I’m going nuts, though, I was told not to hike until it was healed and I haven’t seen my favourite trails once after the injury. I don’t know what to do with myself now that I can’t go walking. I’m desperate to go out, it’s...”

... You stopped yourself, losing steam, looking up to meet Skull’s staring. 

As much as his comment about liking listening to you had stuck with you... you doubted he wanted to hear an in-depth recounting of how your sprained ankle had impacted your outdooring schedule.

You glanced away. Your head was a total mess. You embarrassed Skull in front of a cafe of people, and now you were talking his nonexistent ear off about your stupid leg. You were sure you’d be lying awake at night replaying this scenario for the next several years, and though you were sure there were other ways to approach this, you were reaching the end of your ability to deal with yourself. Flustered was an understatement.

(You didn’t hear his mumble- “i’d carry you.”)

You took a breath, forcing your tone into something more easygoing, shoving your hands in your pockets and plastering a smile on your face. “Well! I-I should... get going. I've paid and all. I’m sure you and your brother have stuff to be getting on with. I’ll-”

... Skull reached out, and snagged the end of your sweater sleeve with a claw. Like a kid holding onto their parent’s arm to make sure they didn’t get too far away.

His eyelight was huge, warm in his socket and intense in its gaze. “wait.”

... He suddenly didn’t sound so nervous. Or... look so nervous. He drew a bit closer, and your breath caught in your throat.

“Oh,” you felt your heart rate pick up again, at his proximity. Did you forget something? “uhm...”

“... m’not... lettin’ you escape again.” He said, with a softly determined and unabashed look. “i like you. how you talk. and look.”

...

You went pink pink. Why... why did you like hearing that so much? The idea that he could want you around made your head buzz.

“I-I,” you so eloquently declared, brain running on fumes. “I also... like how you talk and look.”

...

If his smile was anything to go by, despite your fear he'd be let down by your brainless response... he apparently really, really liked that reaction.

“could... i, mh... ... your number?”

[rottenpumpkin13]

Sometimes I think about how Sephiroth reacted to the lies that Hojo planted, and people always be like “oh, what if there was a fix-it where he found out the truth first? That would make him better!” But I’m like, IDK! I sort of think this is a situation where the truth would make you WORSE! Like, imagine all your life you were raised in a lab. Then, one day you find out the man who tortured you and the woman who created you, your mother and father, people who should have had some biological instinct to care for, nurture, and protect you decided before you were even born “what if we made an experiment with our unborn child and tried to bring back an extinct alien race?” And your mom died for her experiment (basically) and it’s nice to imagine maybe she would have been better than Hojo. Like, she died giving him life, right? But she also quite possibly died because she INJECTED HERSELF WITH AN ANCIENT ALIEN’S CELLS FOR SCIENCE! If she loved him, couldn’t she have, I don’t know, not used him as a lab rat? Would she have continued to do so if she survived? If she was willing to risk her own body during pregnancy, there is a chance she might have continued to do more screwed up things than even Hojo after he was born to push more ethical boundaries. And then him being owned by an entire corporation that is destroying the planet, just like the ancient alien wanted to do that he is genetically spliced with. If people like his parents, and Shinra, and so many of the terrible people he dealt with during the war existed… maybe Jenova wasn’t too far off. Humans are a blight to the universe. And if killing the planet is what he has to do to stop this sickness from spreading, maybe his existence was created by the hubris of man flying too close sun and getting melted from existence. Starting with his father. And whatever is left that he can find of his mother. And anyone he ever cared for. They are too good for the world. He will grant them a quick death so they don’t have to see what he will do.

(Idk. My rant of, “I could make him better” “no, I’d make him worse”)

The way he found out contributed significantly to his decline and the breakdown in Nibelheim, but the information itself was so damning that it would have been a shock regardless of when or how he learned it. And then keep in mind that the information he found in the library wasn't even "the truth" per se, since it was reports/research by Gast and Hojo about Jenova, who he was told was his mother, and then he assumed he himself was a Cetra just like her. It's unclear if he read about Lucrecia and the details of his conception, but even if he did, by then his mind was so broken that the overload of information twisted what he knew even further.

I think if Sephiroth had been told the exact truth about his origins, he still would have revolted, but it wouldn't have been as catastrophic as Nibelheim and the subsequent dip into nuking the planet. He would have been angry and disillusioned, and the truth about his conception would have rewired his beliefs about his existence, but the extent of his destruction might have been less severe.

The thing is Sephiroth was doomed from the moment his parents chose to experiment on him to try to produce a Cetra. I don't know if Lucrecia would have continued Hojo's experiments and the project had she survived, and I don't think she would have (unless Hojo's manipulation came into play) because of the guilt she felt while she was still alive. She attempted to kill herself because she was overcome with guilt, but the Jenova cells prevented her from dying, leading her to seal herself in that crystal. She might have tried to flee or opposed Hojo's plans for Sephiroth, but either way, it would have ended catastrophically for her.

In the end I think the only true way to save Sephiroth would be to prevent him from ever being part of the Jenova Project and never receive the Jenova cells in the first place. This would have spared him from Shinra's involvement and the ensuing tragedies that were promised the moment they got a little too greedy and tried to capitalize on alien remains.