#i hate planned obsoletism!!!!!!!!!

[argent-sz]

Gone are the days when you could kick something hard and it would start working again 😔😔😔 modern technology is just so frail and small and costly to repair and hard to manipulate its pieces nowadays...

[spacebugarts]

Y'know what sucks? Hyperfixating on a game that you can't play for yourself, so you have to watch playthroughs on youtube and scour the wiki for scraps of lore instead of playing the game and finding them for yourself 🙃

[thebloodredraven]

"He's more of a brother to me than you ever were to him."

- Naruto, talking to Itachi about Sasuke

I'm rewatching Naruto as a whole because I'm introducing it to my friend, and I like to watch it every few years as I gain new life experience to get a new perspective of something I've been watching since I was a little kid. I've never finished the series past the very beginning of the war arc, though (working on it!).

We're up to the Tenchi Bridge mission in Shippuden and I have some thoughts on how remarkably similar Naruto and Itachi are, specifically when it comes to their shared trait of unintentionally dehumanizing Sasuke and viewing him as a possession, and an object to obtain, rather than a person with his own autonomy and free will. I also kind of wanna go into how Kakashi and Sakura (kinda) were probably the only people to love him as he was but still ultimately failed him, and how all of them drove him away.

Disclaimer: These are all my own opinions and you're under no obligation to agree with any of it. If any of what I have to say bothers you, you're more than welcome to exit the post at any time and ignore me instead of sending hate mail and leaving heinous comments. Anything you have to say in response can be said respectfully. Thanks!

Words: 2.3k

In episode 41 of Naruto Shippuden, there's a scene where Naruto is in his own mind as he's transforming into the Nine Tailed Fox (Kurama). In this scene, he sees an apparition of Sasuke walking away from him and when he tries to go after him, water floods all around him and he can't get to him. He's falling into his own darkness and giving in to Kurama's influence.

During this scene, he says, "I am weak, so my words don't reach [Sasuke]. Because I am weak, I can't win his recognition. So, whatever happens I must become stronger so that the bond I've finally forged will not be severed. So that Sasuke won't sever the connection with me."

It can be said that the entire reason Naruto is so obsessed with getting Sasuke back is because, as he's stated himself multiple times, he can't confidently fulfill his goal of becoming Hokage if he can't even save his friend from darkness. His entire self-worth rests in the validity that others provide him because he was deprived of that his entire life, and he represses his emotions to the extreme.

It's why he's irrational and dangerous to be around and difficult to work with; it's why he foregoes any plans or strategies people have on almost every single mission he's been sent on from the time he became a ninja till the war and is always the first to attack in these scenarios; it's why he's willing to start giving into the power of Kurama until Yamato tells him how he injured Sakura and how he needed to prove his strength with his OWN power: his need to prove himself to others and get that validation he craves trumps over anything, and anyone, else.

When it comes to Itachi, he told Sasuke that in order to become strong enough to kill him he needed to sever his bonds with those closest to him.

Opposite of Naruto, Itachi kept Sasuke at a distance at all times because of his own goals to rid the world of war and get into a position where he can render ninja obsolete (via Itachi Retsuden). His tunnel vision when it came to his personal goals caused him to disregard how his actions affected other people because he saw it as a means to an end, including slaughtering his own clan and becoming a double spy in the Akatsuki.

When Naruto and Itachi run into each other during the Gaara Retrieval arc, they get to talking about Sasuke.

When Itachi asks why Naruto is so obsessed with Sasuke, Naruto replies with the quote that leads into this post.

I was talking to my friend about Naruto's possessive nature when it comes to Sasuke and that led into be thinking about how Itachi also viewed Sasuke.

I came to the conclusion that neither of these people viewed Sasuke as someone capable of having his own autonomy, his own philosophy, and as someone deserving of having his own personal goals and feelings recognized. Sasuke was always within his full right to end up as hateful and as angry and as hurt as he was, but because Naruto and Itachi care more about their own goals and their own proximity to Sasuke, they don't view him as someone that can make his own decisions; that's why I feel Naruto had such a negative reaction when Orochimaru reminded Naruto that Sasuke came to him of his own free will after Naruto was screaming at him to "give him back." Even after three years, he cannot stomach or accept the fact that Sasuke made the choice to leave him, and it pushes him further into his obsession.

Sasuke made his own decision to go to Orochimaru because he felt like no one else around him genuinely tried to understand what he was going through. They, essentially, just wanted him to let go of his pain and keep living a "happy" life with them. How could they understand when they view him in such a way? Orochimaru was up front with his intentions and his plans for Sasuke from the very beginning. Yes, he was manipulated by the curse mark, but Orochimaru wouldn't have chosen him to begin with if he didn't see what was already in Sasuke.

He was very up front with the fact that he needed Sasuke's body in order to continue living as a powerful being and find immortality. He told Sasuke what the game plan was and knew that in order to get what he wanted, he needed to give Sasuke what everyone else had denied him: a choice. He saw a gifted child filled with jealousy and hatred, which was something fostered by his need to compete with Itachi and Naruto and gave him exactly what he wanted.

Sasuke's entire clan was annihilated by the one person he sought the most validation from. After that heartbreak, he was forced to live in that same Uchiha compound all alone.

While he was dealing with the trauma of that, every single person around him was idealizing him and treating him in a way that probably drove him further into isolation: he was constantly bombarded with girls that were crushing on him and wanting him for his talents and good looks, and the adults around him saw him as the perfect student that didn't need too much attention, so no one paid attention to his needs outside of what he provided in skill. Even though they very much provided the validation and attention he was seeking from his family, no one really bothered to see him.

Naruto was seemingly the only person that actively saw what he was going through because he also knew what that loneliness looked like, but his rivalry with him mattered more than that connection. That's why physical fighting is their form of intimacy. People propped him up on a pedestal from the time he was a small child and when that position was threatened by the least talented kid in his class, it threw him into a spiral (which is another topic).

Getting back to Itachi, he never saw Sasuke as his own person at any point in his life. I know he loved him in his own way. In some ways, he was the somewhat attentive father Sasuke should have had.

But Itachi was not always a good brother. Not in the least.

He always saw him as someone to protect, to coddle, to keep ignorant, keep below him because he subconsciously did not want Sasuke to become a shinobi and go through the same trauma he did (Itachi Retsuden). Eventually, that was no longer an option and that's when the distance happened (in conjunction to what was going on in his own life as a tool that others wanted to use for their own goals).

After Itachi slaughtered the clan, he reinforced Sasuke's lack of autonomy by giving him his own means to an end.

Itachi saw Sasuke as a tool -- a means to his own long, drawn-out suicide.

Naruto viewed Sasuke as the ultimate validation to his own goal to become Hokage.

Neither of them saw Sasuke for who he was or who he wanted to be -- for who he could have been.

I'll even add Sakura to this mix because she has a complicated relationship with him as well. She did end up with him and was his friend before anything, but she’s idolized him to the point of nausea since she was a little girl. She was obsessed with becoming the object of his affection. She had an unhealthy amount of loyalty to him just like Naruto (even though I'd argue she wasn't nearly as bad as Naruto was). She changed her own opinions of something to cater to what he thought so she could seem more favorable to him. For most of their childhood, she dehumanized him and didn't see him as anything other than a love interest for herself.

However.

You can see her slowly taking off the rose-colored glasses in the first part of Naruto during the Chuunin exams at two major points: when she chastised him for acting like a coward and freezing up while Orochimaru beat Naruto, and when she finally cut her hair in the middle of battle (context: she heard that Sasuke loved long hair and that's why she always kept it long).

Beyond that, she actually paid attention to his well-being and noticed when something was wrong or when he was hiding something and brought her concerns up in a non-aggressive manor. At the time, he was aggressive and agitated by her actions, and he reacts as such. Genuine concern is hard to come by for him, so how was he supposed to react?

But clearly, he recognized it and appreciated it because it's been confirmed through his Japanese VA AND English VA AND the novels that Sasuke was starting to fall in love with Sakura long before he realized it and was full of guilt when he left her on that bench.

When the time came to acknowledge that he was an internationally recognized terrorist and killer, the life drained from her face because she realized she had to put her feelings to the side and do what needed to be done.

Because she was willing to accept the reality of who he was and see him for what he'd become. And even though she was unsuccessful, she took steps to have Naruto forget about Sasuke and kill him herself.

At this point, he's learned to use the same tactics people used on him his entire life: only keep people around you that further your own goals. This time, he was in charge. When he formed his own gang, he encountered that dehumanizing behavior again when Karin constantly threw herself at him and practically begged to sleep with him. It was only after Itachi died and he decided to take down the Leaf that he was able to finally have a goal of his own that was solely for him.

I won't go into it too much because I'm already pushing 2k words, but it's worth noting that Sasuke was pushed to do crime because that was the only period of time where he was allowed to make his own decisions and have his own autonomy enough to pursue his OWN goals before that was swiftly taken away by The Akatsuki to....you guessed it, further their own goals.

Sasuke has never been the idol the people in proximity to him saw him as, from any person's point of view. Not Naruto, not Itachi, not Sakura, not Orochimaru, no one. Obito may have been the one closest to seeing Sasuke as he was, but he immediately took advantage of him.

They all wanted to possess him and obtain him in different ways, and one of the reasons I love his dynamic with Kakashi so much is because Kakashi did grow up very similarly to Sasuke, except his own dad died of his own accord and Sasuke’s father was taken away from him.

One of the main ways Kakashi has always been able to connect to Sasuke was the fact that throughout his life he’s had to watch every single person he’s ever cared about die around him. And for a while he was that cold detached person that didn’t want to keep up with friends, didn’t want to be around people, minded his business, and he was mean to everybody.

The whole reason he gave Sasuke that speech about choosing his own path right before he went to Orochimaru was because he intimately understood what he was going through emotionally.

Naruto and Sakura can say they get where he’s coming from, but Kakashi is really the only person able to empathize with what Sasuke was going through. And if Kakashi hadn’t been consistently sent out on missions and was able to take care of his kids the way he was supposed to, there was a slight chance Sasuke could have still healed from his trauma even with the manipulation of the curse mark. 

People forget that Kakashi very well could have ended up on the same path as Sasuke, even without Orochimaru’s influence, because he went through some very dark things. He had every reason to be a very dark character, but he didn’t.

He ultimately failed when he spoke to Sasuke as a soldier and not the traumatized child that was acting out on his pain.

In summary, Sasuke only went to the lengths that he did because of the people around him treating him as a possession to keep or as an object to obtain rather than treating him as an actual person. Sasuke goes through some of the most dehumanizing relationships, and I think that’s what irritates me so much about Naruto as a character.

Because he treats Sasuke, and he talks about him, like he’s a possession to obtain and because someone else “has” him, he has to get him back because Sasuke is his and his only. This extends to other characters around him, as well.

That lack of autonomy was what drove Sasuke away because he very clearly wanted to be seen as his own person but no one around him was willing to do that because they saw him as a means to their own goals. It's why Sasuke developed a "do you really think I give a fuck about what you want" personality trait.

All that being said, do I think they all genuinely loved him? Yes.

Ultimately, we have to remember that these are all small-town children with very little experience of the outside world and that the adults around him grew up in the same conditions because that's what the politics of that world demanded.

I have my opinions about the manga's imperialist propaganda, use of child soldiers, Sasuke's emotional development and how people chronically misunderstand complex PTSD, fascism, queer baiting, etc. but that's another post. Several others, actually.

Believe it or not, I had to shave down a lot of what I originally had in order to keep this relatively short LMAO

If y'all read all of this, THANK YOU! I rarely ever flesh out my thoughts about this show like this and it felt refreshing to get off my chest. Feel free to send me DMs and RESPECTFULLY speak your own mind in the comments/reblogs! ♥

[pygmi-cygni]

T Minus Ten

remember that miguel fic I talked about....

here she is!!!!

series warning: eventual smut (light), angst, pining, lovesickness, adorable migs, enemies (?) to lovers, more like emotionally repressed to infatuated, angst, miscommunication, as many tropes as I can possibly manage

warnings for this chapter: lots of exposition, medical inaccuracies, introduction basically, canon violence

miguel o'hara x reader (afab) no description other than reader is v strong and has some small tattoos on hands (important later i swear)

enjoy!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

The medical field was essentially obsolete in the Spiderverse. It takes hundreds of years to name a disease, let alone cure it, and then to add in the factors of different biology, different gravitational boundaries, bacterial possibilities....you honestly just felt like hanging up your lab coat and starting an Etsy.

Each branch of the Multiverse was grouped in the extensive medbay located in HQ. The branches with the most similar biology and treatment varieties were closest together. Every spider was given their hall number that had any resources they'd need depending on their genetic makeup.

It was tough work, remembering where everyone was from and the unique characteristics that came with them. Especially when some varieties blurred the lines.

Namely one.

Miguel O'Hara, head of this shit-show and arguably the biggest pain in the ass you'd ever seen, rarely found himself in need of the medical ward's services. Which is probably why nobody thought to figure this problem out.

See, most spider-people were predominantly human. The spider that bit them had only added on to existing capability: extreme strength that improved muscle mass, improved grip on fingers...the only 'inhuman' factor was the webbing.

Miguel had a slightly different build. His DNA had been spliced; like two ropes being braided together. The spider DNA had rebuilt his human DNA, therefore it didn't follow the same pattern in response to medicine or bandages. Which made his medical aversion a little more realistic.

Either way, it didn't matter how much he hated doctors, he couldn't fix a poisoned spear through his chest with an at-home first aid kit.

Eight of HQ's most qualified doctors sat around various scans of the monstrous Spiderman, puzzling through the bizarre data. Your education had been focused on epidemiology, or the spread of disease. Poison wasn't really your thing, but you thought it might be cool to watch.

Dr. Ben Parkinson, the 'head' doctor, was explaining the possible treatments.

"It doesn't seem to be deadly," he reasoned, "but prolonged exposure without medication might have some deteriorating effects." He pointed to a highlighted area of the wound. "See, the muscle tissue is deteriorating, and long-term deterioration could be permanent."

The medical staff shot amused glances at one another, trying to imagine Miguel as anything other than a hulking boulder of muscle.

Ben rolled his eyes and tapped the scans. "Do we have any base vitals for him? Any logged info?"

Maria, his assistant, scrolled on her tablet. "Uhhhh....negative on that. Looks like he hasn't done his immunos either."

You frowned. When HQ had established itself with a medbay, you and the few other nurses had done rounds to make sure any necessary vaccines and medications had been administered. How did we skip him?

"New plan," Ben said slowly, "let's get him up to date and then we'll evaluate. he's relatively stable right now, so let's keep up the current treatment and move from there, yeah?"

He looked at you. "You're the nurse responsible for his wing, right? Do you mind doing his vitals and reporting back?"

You nodded, faltering. What if the spider DNA screwed up his vitals? His resting heartrate was probably higher, and his metabolism had to be insane...the rest of the staff clearly did not share your concern, glad to be rid of the Miguel problem.

Maria handed you her tablet and gave you an apologetic smile. "At least the sedatives will stop him from scratching you," she whispered in your ear.

You shuddered. Here goes nothing.

Miguel was laid out on two beds with the guardrails removed. He couldn't fit on one, so the staff had to quickly improvise. You tried to hum a calming tune, hyperaware of the large claws hanging off the blanket.

Even though he was unconscious, a ripple of fear went through you. He was enormous. If he got mad....you shuddered.

Tenderly, you angled your stethoscope under the mess of tubes feeding into his chest. His skin was unbelievably warm, and you pursed your lips. Definitely feverish. You took his heart rate, tried as gently as you could to do his blood pressure, and measured his blood sugar on the dial near his bed.

Well.

His DNA was definitely strange, because all of his vitals pointed to cardiac arrest and a 104F fever.

"What...the fuck?" He should be dead by those numbers.

You did everything twice more, just to be sure. Still the same. Elevated heart rate, high temperature, and blood pressure that wasn't physically possible.

It confirmed your theory. That meant you had to do a full body scan, analyze the numbers, try to find some kind of pattern....ugh.

His hands were beginning to twitch, and you scurried out of the small room. He'd likely be pissed, waking up in a hospital room with a poisoned stake sticking out of his chest.

Reading through his file, you chewed on your pinky nail. Apparently, a new variant of Green Goblin had been discovered on the fringes of a random universe. It produced a highly acidic venom, the same that had infected the rebar impaling Miguel. The science labs were analyzing the poison, and little info had been found.

Corrosive, acidic, highly destructive on human tissue.

Huh.

Miguel seemed to be holding up okay. Explains the elevated temperature and heart rate. His body was cranking out energy, repairing the damage almost as soon as it occurred.

A grin teased its way onto your face. This was the part of your job that you loved. The puzzle, all the little bits that opened up a bigger picture and eventually, the solution.

You wrote up his chart with your hypothesis and sent it to Dr Ben. Tomorrow would be exciting, to say the least.

-

Exciting was one word for it. Apparently your prediction was correct: Miguel was decidedly not happy with his living situation at the moment. The nurse who'd gone in to give him his IV had dodged a flying chair, and it had escalated from there. Jess had intervened, resorting to an anomaly cage to keep him secure.

After that frazzling morning, Ben was ready for some good news. You were excitedly explaining the deductions you'd found last night, when a small knock came from the office door.

Gwen, one of the newer spiders, shyly poked her head in. Ben went to shoo her away, but you beckoned her in warmly.

Wait a second, you nodded to your boss, and he sat back with a sigh.

The young woman's colored hair hung limp and unwashed. She had been on the backup team to help Miguel and his crew, and the fallout had been hard on her. It was a big mission, especially for a rookie. She was struggling.

"Hi, Gwen, how are you today?" You pulled over a chair, nodding at her to sit. She folded her hands tightly and didn't meet your eyes.

"'M fine," she mumbled, fidgeting with her hoodie. You grabbed the notes you'd taken earlier and a pen.

"...Do...you wanna talk about it? Anything you remember, something we might have missed?"

The room was quiet as you waited. Ben shot you an exasperated look and nodded towards the clock. Not much time.

You sighed and leaned forwards. "it's okay if you don't have anything, Gwen, but we want Miguel to get better, so if you remember-"

"He was glitching," she blurted, cheeks flaming.

You exchanged another glance with Ben.

"He...when the..."she gestured vaguely, "spear thingy went into him, he started glitching. Like, really bad."

That made you stop. "Was...did you see his watch fall off at any point?"

She shook her head sharply. "No. It was like as soon as the venom hit him, he glitched. and it didn't stop until Jess and the guys got there. He was..." she shuddered, and you patted her arm comfortingly.

Though you did technically have spider abilities, you would never in a thousand years want to be fighting. You couldn't imagine dealing with that every day, especially at Gwen's age. You made a mental note to ask the psychiatrist for a check in.

"What were the details of the mission? was there anything specific about the Goblin that made him so strange?" As a member of the med crew, you didn't have access to mission files.

Gwen nodded, wiping her eyes. "Yeah. He was portal jumping like crazy. Miguel was so pissed," she laughed weakly, "he was jumping in circles like a cat."

"Was he glitching?"

"No, he was fine. It was weird...like he somehow belonged to all of the dimensions. We chased him through three different ones before..." A glazed look came over her, and you figured she needed a break.

"Thank you Gwen," you said gently, walking her to the door, "you've been very helpful. Get some rest, honey."

Watching her shuffle down the hall, you puzzled with the information she'd given.

What the fuck was going on?

Ben's serious look confirmed your bewilderment. This was clearly a bigger problem than you anticipated.

"We should give that to the labs," he pointed to your notepad. "They'll wanna know that info."

You nodded wordlessly, handing it over. What did that mean for Miguel? If this Goblin wasn't following the multiverse rules, was there even a possibility of fighting this?

Ben disappeared around the hall as you groaned into your hands. The excitement of the last 36 hours had done a number on you. Despite your heightened energy levels, you still felt sluggish. Flipping to the surveillance footage, you peeked in on your burly patient.

He was laying awake, the sharp spikes on his heart monitor indicating his agitation. His limbs were lightly restrained to keep him from disabling the glowing red net cast over him.

Oddly, you felt bad.

It was hard enough being injured and alone, but he was being treated like a prisoner. Poor guy. No wonder he doesn't socialize much.

Figuring you had some time, you grabbed your med kit and strolled down to his room. Maybe he'd have a good explanation of his situation. He was a renowned geneticist, after all.

The spider positioned outside his door gave you a wary look. "Miss, you might wanna-"

"Doctor," you corrected crisply, "and I'd like to see my patient."

The young man hesitated, but let you through anyway. He rambled about precautions and avoiding Miguel's temper, but you weren't listening.

His eyes were red.

A bitter, furious shade of scarlet that made your tongue dry and your heart cower. He was pulsing with so much restrained energy that you felt three times smaller. Again you were reminded of his size. You clutched your kit and dismissed the guard.

Fuck fuck fuck.

Despite his condition, Miguel could still easily snap your arms in half. Sharp canines dug into his lower lip. Maria's earlier comment came back to you. I'm more worried about the teeth than the claws, honey.

"Miguel?" Your voice was surprisingly stable, though quiet.

He blinked but gave no further answer. Swallowing, you walked slowly around to the side of his bed and sat. His straining thighs were inches away. The net hummed gently, resisting any movement.

You squinted against the bright threads. Miguel continued to scowl, eyes narrowing to slits. Trying to breathe steadily, you pulled out a capped syringe.

"I'm going to give you your vaccines is that alright?" stay calm stay calm oh my god oh holy fuck-

A singular, clawed finger poked through the net.

"Be my guest, mija."

He'd broken the restraints.

______________________________________________________________

part two out on Aug 18! love you xox

let me know if you want to be tagged for updates!

[sneezilla]

Someone on AO3 asked for my interpretation of V1 as a transformer, so I had to doodle it out! Planning on doing another one with Gabriel, but this is what I have so far.

Lore Dump below the cut!

Shockwave, wanting to create the perfect supersoldier, started with V1 (short for version 1, of course). It was built for speed, trained for adaptability, and, if all else, has only one purpose: to kill.

A special biotechnology that Shockwave developed through dubious trial and error, this machine is able to heal itself by direct energon contact, specifically of which that has already been processed by the host. Though, this technology is especially difficult to develop.

Megatron was not particularly impressed, and demanded one without these modifications (and much more powerful), thus V2 was created.

V2, despite this increased power, was unable to keep up with V1's pure versatility. In training attempts, his scores always fell short. Thus, Shockwave sought to improve both of their abilities by making them fight eachother. While they both improved, certainly, V2 was continually beaten out. He began to loathe his predecessor.

V1, instead of hating its successor, it began to despise its creator. Up to that point it could not recall feeling anything else, but a definite resentment began to work its way in. It knew it needed to escape.

It destroyed as much of Shockwave's laboratory as it could before it did, leaving behind the mangled form of a prototype V3, but V2 found V1 before it could destroy anything else. They fought, but just like before, V2 was rendered obsolete, and V1 gained an arm from the other: his prized Knuckleblaster.

Upon finding his lab destroyed, Shockwave deemed that V2's punishment for his failure be that he trail V1 to drag it back home (but not without replacing his arm with the now ruined V3). He accepted this quest without hesitation, for he was set on making his creator proud. ((I think V2, upon seeing how Soundwave treats the minicons, would think that there must be something wrong with him for not receiving that treatment from Shockwave. I think he would also be really good friends with Rumble+Frenzy, but V1 is thought to be more like "the weird neighbor kid".))

I really want to write a full fic for this, but I have too many other projects at the moment. But it will happen!

Thank you for reading my ramble :))

[jewreallythinkthat]

Ok so ... Today's absolutely fucking batshit post that I had to read with my own two eyes

We all know Mohamed Hadid is a foaming at the mouth antisemite but this is a new level.

Let's start with the caption:

1. The implication all Jews are American? Insane, untrue, erasing all Jewish history in Israel which dates back to before the Arabization of the middle east.

2. No one has a single percent of Semite in them because Semite is not a race, it's an obsolete term for a family of languages (including both Hebrew and Arabic) however I need to specify that "Antisemitism" was coined as a term specifically about Jew hate. That's what it means, it's actually nothing to do with the language Hebrew at all, it was an attempt to sciencify "judenhass" and make it sound acceptable.

Now to the post itself:

3. If you demand an end to colonialism, boy have I got something to explain about why the official language of Morocco, a country the width of a continent away from the Arabian Peninsula is Moroccan Arabic... Or to be honest, the reason that Arabs are the main demographic anywhere outside the Arabian Peninsula where they originally came from. I understand that peoples migrate but that involves moving from one place to another, not expanding our and literally colonising everything around you. The Arab conquests of the MENA region are a well documented part of history...

4. Demanding a ceasefire is all well and good but we are all aware that we will never be going back to the status quo of before - which frankly is all a ceasefire with no actual work done to rebuild and move towards peace will do. A ceasefire neccestiates thought on what happens next. This is not to say people shouldn't be advocating for an cease to the fighting, they should, this all needs to end. What people have to also do is also be discussing what happens next. The old status quo was unsustainable, and with the mounting evidence that Gazans who worked in Israel helped with the planning of Black Saturday, we will never again see the relations between the people in southern Israel and those in Gaza go "back to normal".

I would love a ceasefire but we need to talk about what happens next in the same conversation. To ignore that is at best naïve and at worst, willfully ignorant because just stopping and Israel withdrawing will do nothing to help rebuild because we all know that everyone will lose interest if that happens, as has happened over and over again.

5. It's well known that Jews are indigenous to Israel and the ancient kingdom of Judea. It's literally in the etymology of the world. Now, obviously multiple groups can be indiginous to one area, but length of time residing there is not a marker of indiginunity, it's literally a childlike playground tactic. Straight up rewriting history... We all know how bad that is.

Mohamed Hadid has over a million followers. His daughters have a total of 130 million. They can post misinformation and almost ten times the number of Jews who exist in the world will see it. This is so dangerous and frankly this level of deranged lying on the internet does not nothing to help end the war, it just puts Jews outside of Israel more at risk. We are being murdered in the streets, in our places of work and everyone is cheering it on.

The irony of people applauding the murder of Jews calling us neo-nazis is not lost on me and it's unreal that we aren't even allowed to stand up to it. Let's be very blunt here, if you are justifying the slaughter of Jews, who's the real nazi?

An additional Edit:

There will never be a ceasefire without release of the hostages and bodies kidnapped into Gaza. Like it's so stupid to think otherwise. Especially with Hamas currently refusing to give a list of who is still alive (they said they couldn't give a list until they knew the terms of a ceasefire which clearly means they COULD do it, but they are choosing not to)

[unleashtheraeken]

maybe this was just me, but way back when I was in middle school and obsessed with Percy Jackson (an obsession that has come back full force in my 20s lol) I always had a strange relationship with the “reading the books” fics.

on one hand, I really loved it, one because this was back when ppl were able to post entire chapters interspersed with commentary so, when I didn’t have the books this was an easy way to read them lol.

but also because Percy himself is such a fascinating character, who, isn’t actually dumb?? I see so many people actually fall for that, but he’s not! he’s got self-esteem issues and isn’t a reliable narrator when it comes to his own virtues. But if you read closely, you see so much of how he’s exceptional at thinking outside the box and coming up with strategies on the fly. a lot of readers (and characters) assume he’s reckless as hell and gets by at times through sheer luck and skill, but that’s not it.

It just comes across that way because percy connects dots and comes up with plans but never explicitly states step by step for the reader or to his allies. but on a closer read you can see everything coming together. you might think, why doesn’t Percy share his plans with his friends in these intense situations?

I do think there are a few reasons, such as trust in his friends abilities and skills, plus in some cases years of experience fighting with these people and so thinks that they can understand what he’s going for and act accordingly, but I do also think at times it’s because often the people he fights with, he often thinks that they are really smart (and they are!) while also thinking that he ISNT. so in his mind, if he can come up with this—then chances are so can his friends.

All this to say, I really loved those fics because it allows the other characters to witness his plans take form, and also because I think it’s hilarious that probably there’s so much of his quests people don’t know about, and I think it’d be a neat way to find out.

However, I always had like, ONE major gripe with these fics. (And no hate btw to the fic writers who would write these fics! They’re all talented, it just wasn’t for me!)

On occasion, there would be a fic where the gods would read these books BEFORE any of these quests took place, and promise to change and act accordingly so that these events don’t come to pass. I always never liked those fics bc I couldn’t grasp my mind over the fact that by doing so, they would render the books (and the events that happened in them) obsolete. Percy was my special little guy so naturally I needed him to go through the horrors.

This is why I always preferred the fics where this reading stuff would happen AFTER it all went down. It was rlly hard to find any fics like that however.

BUT recently I came across one that takes place in such a way. It’s an interesting reading the books fic and it takes place AFTER the two wars.

It’s ongoing and I love it, it’s The Cruelty of the Fates: The Lightning Thief by DeadWritersSociety on ao3/ @helenofmycenea

[truly-a-snitch]

May i request headcanons with ranpo and dazai with a s/o who has heterochromia and is insecure about it? Could be hurt/comfort or just straight up fluff :)

-🧛

ofc ofc !!! ty for the request ^_^

WARNINGS: none :3 this is straight up fluff ! i do hc these two as nd (dazai is autistic, ranpo is audhd) !!

---

dazai and ranpo with an s/o who has heterochromia and is insecure about it

dazai

dazai to me has always seemed like the type to not really care about appearances if he's looking for an actual relationship

like i know he's always like "i want to die with a beautiful woman" but if he's planning to LIVE with/for someone, the thing that gets him is their brain, so having heterochromia doesn't matter to him

(however comma he actually thinks its really pretty and makes sure to tell you at EVERY possible moment even if ur not feeling too bad abt it at the moment)

he definitely does some sappy ass bullshit like staring into your eyes whenever he can

i hc him as autistic but like the type that makes way too much eye contact so he sees your eyes a LOT

once he finds out that youre insecure about it he amps up how often he compliments your eyes like. tenfold

like to the point you would think he's making fun of you if he wasn't so genuinely sincere about it

"the way the light catches your eyes is simply gorgeous, darling" or some bullshit like that. homeboy is so silly

if you two live together, he makes so many passing comments about how happy he is that your eyes are the first thing he sees when he wakes up

(look at you, seducing him into healthier sleeping patterns with your eyes)

at the end of the day, dazai doesnt care about your appearance (though the fact that he thinks you are the most graceful creature to ever walk this earth certainly helped when he asked you out)

he makes sure to remind you at every opportunity that the things you perceive as 'flaws'- your eyes, notably- are beautiful to him ^_^

a pretty solid experience all in all ! this man is such a hopeless romantic emphasis on hopeless he will bust out the sappy poetry to make u laugh and cheer u up

ranpo

again, a man who i don't think cares about appearance all that much if only because he can read everybody so easily that appearances sort of become obsolete

i hc him as the kind of audhd that hates eye contact with a burning passion so he isnt into the whole 'staring into your eyes' thing the way dazai is

however comma he likes to hold stuff up to your face and compare it to your eyes if its the same color

(if you have blue in your eyes he holds up his ramune marbles but he makes do regardless of color)

i also hc him as having heterochromia (one eye green one eye brown) so if u have complete heterochromia hes like omg we match !!

he isnt insecure about his appearance because he isnt big about appearances i mean he walks around with that tie that clashes with his ENTIRE outfit he truly does not care. no fucks given. we love u king. anyway the point is hanging out with him and dating him is going to lead to a confidence spike on ur part bc hes so casual abt his own heterochromia

if he notices youre having a bad day- which he will lets be honest- he makes a passing comment about how pretty your eyes look to cheer you up and then goes back to his psp. might let u beat him at whatever hes playing to make u feel better too

since appearances arent super important to him he doesnt really comment on it that much unless he knows ur feeling particularly upset about it

when u feel down abt it tho he is lowk ur BIGGEST hype man like "look how cool my s/o is u guys"

bro even shares his snacks with you if youre feeling insecure (about anything tbh but especially abt ur appearance bc ur literally so cool ??)

if you have sectoral heterochromia he says u and atsushi r twinning frfr (forget armed detective agency this is the fucking. heterochromia detective agency) and if u have central heterochromia hes like oh hell yea we collected the whole set

all in all id say since i hc him as having heterochromia its a solid experience !! vvv supportive

[cherryapplejuice]

you make me nervous

larissa weems x reader

content: soft, fluff, mutual sapphic yearning

warnings: none

It all started with such a small gesture. You were spending your lunch break at the Weathervane, writing your lesson plan in preparation for next month because, let’s face it, you never allow yourself a real break. Your soy vanilla latte was now merely beige bubbles scattered at the bottom of your empty mug and the steady sound of the milk steaming contraption behind the counter had become an oddly relaxing form of white noise as your pen scribbled in your notebook.

A small ringing sound pierced through the emptiness of the room and you turned instinctively to see none other than Larissa Weems coming in for her usual cappuccino. You flashed her a smile that beamed embarrassingly beyond what you had intended and she offered back a familiar grin and nod in response. You felt a nauseating tightness in your abdomen not too dissimilar to the usual feeling you got when you analysed your every move around Larissa, praying that one day you would somehow find the ability to act cool around her, or at the very least, like a normal human being. You buried your head back into your work in effort to concentrate and block yourself from drowning in the sweet way Larissa stepped towards the counter and spoke with that soft, polite hushed tone that always tore you up from the inside out. Your efforts to muster up new ideas about which classical and romantic period musicians to base your next music theory module on - while you felt Larissa’s eyes burning into your head for a brief moment - became obsolete.

“Small cappuccino.” The boy behind the counter smiled as he placed it before her.

“Thank you.” Larissa beamed, and you wanted to curse her for how sick her sweet voice made you feel. “Mind if I join you?”

You were so used to not wanting to assume anyone would choose your company over solitude, or the company of someone much more enjoyable, that you instinctively waited a few seconds before looking up at her. She was talking to you.

“Oh, of course.” You babbled, scrambling to tidy the mess of paper and books scattered messily across the table to make room before gesturing enthusiastically toward the empty seat across from you. “Go ahead!”

“What are you working on?” Larissa questioned inquisitively. You admired how gifted she was at making everyone she spoke to feel genuinely important and interesting, even if you did still question whether or not she was simply being polite and just making conversation because she felt she had to.

“Oh, uh, this? I’m just trying to decide on a composer to use as inspiration when we move back onto theory with my 10th graders. Theory’s the boring part that everybody hates and they spend the whole time wishing they could just go back to messing with actual instruments so…” You paused for a moment, panicking suddenly that you may be rambling on and boring the poor woman to death. “Yeah. That’s about it.”

You held eye contact with the words on the pages below you rather than with Larissa; after all, ink on paper couldn’t make you flustered so it seemed like the safer option. As the seconds passed, you only wished more and more that the ground would swallow you up. The caffeine may not have been a wise idea when you know you’re prone to becoming this nervous, and you made a mental note to try decaf next time.

“Go with Tchaikovsky.” Larissa broke the silence and you looked up to meet her eyes. “He’s my favourite.”

You shared a smile, a feeling of warmth and genuine comfort finally radiating toward you and settling your jitters as you held each other’s gaze. She wasn’t bothered by your rambling at all. She could tell you were taken aback by her showing interest in what you had to say and, although you weren’t to know, it made her a little sad.

“Tchaikovsky. Tchaikovsky.” You spoke aloud in affirmation to yourself, mostly, the second repetition more sure and certain and the relief in your voice was audible. Larissa shot you a soft grin before reaching down to wrap her fingers around the mug before her and bringing it up to her lips, enjoying the comfortable silence as you flipped to the index of your textbook and flicked your way through to find the pages you needed. You finally had a strange but welcome sense of comfort sitting in your stomach. In all honestly, it could be a little embarrassing how you transformed with the smallest amount of reassurance but you will always take it, you thought to yourself.

You looked up to meet Larissa’s gaze once again. Cobalt glittered from her eyes and the bright porcelain of her skin laid perfectly over her face. Your eyes fell to her lips; the only spot of out place was a small patch of white foam that had found its way from her mug to the perfect soft red pigment applied over them as she had sipped.

“What?” Larissa asked, concerned, as you stared at that one spot on her upper lip. A sheepish smile crept over your face and you were unsure if you were feeling embarrassment or simply sheer adoration for the sudden realisation that Larissa was, too, a real human who is susceptible to the small mishaps that make people just that little bit more endearing. You giggled slightly.

“You, uh. You just…” You paused before shuffling forward and rising from your chair, clearly feeling emboldened and finding your new ability to lean over the table to reach forward, slowly letting your thumb find its way to Larissa’s intimidatingly perfect features, and swiping gently across her lip to remove the foam, leaving her makeup untarnished and a dizzying feeling of yearning in the pit of your stomach. Time had stopped for the both of you. The contact between your skin lingered for perhaps a few seconds too long and the tension behind the eye contact you held, now from a much closer proximity, was incredibly palpable. It was just you two. It didn’t matter that you were out in public, surrounded by clattering and the words of others around you because everything was a blur except for that perfect face in front of you. You watched as the skin on her throat dipped with a sudden gulp before her lips parted to catch her breath. Was she blushing?

But you had no idea that Larissa’s world had just come tumbling down around her, the rubble and debris of all professionalism and decorum she had once prided herself on now gathered at her feet and emitting dust that clouded her thoughts. It had all started with such a small gesture. The feeling of your skin against her lip, the way your eyes had expertly examined her to clean her up efficiently, the slight furrow of your brow in concentration in the half second before your eyes came up again to meet hers - it was all too much. Her world had become brighter, the beige and graphite hues that once surrounded her now bursts of rich sienna and greens that lit the path in front of her. She was suddenly crucially aware of the warmth she felt radiating from the beams of light that surrounded you. A halo.

She had fallen in love.

[cinnamoon-roll2]

The Famished Doctor and Their Devoted Ghost

Danny takes on a new murder case for the Roseville Gazette that people presume is his, but he's never taken the organs of his victims. His curiosity gnaws at him, he needs to know who is this new homicidal partner he shares the town with, and who is this new girl that's making him doubt about his future plans.

Chapter 2: Um… An awkward first meeting

Chapter summary: A white mask with the permanent scream, those black eyes seeing back at her, how in the actual hell she had ended up like this.

Chapter Trigger Warnings: explicit mention of murder, cannibalism and violence, explicit monologue of Reader thoughts of cannibalism, murder and violence, Danny being himself.

Wc: 4,5K

AO3 Link Previous Next

Taglist: @mariamyousef702 , @weaponxgames

Tuesday, she had taken a shift at the maternity ward that day, she loved gossiping with the mothers, but she hated the cries of newborns with all her heart, well she loved the cries for help of many of her victims but she hated the high-pitched cries of babies. Today she had seen Casey behaving uneasily, in her words she was showing the first signs of paranoia, her suspicions were that her boyfriend was becoming suspicious of her constant flirting at work or that the boss was noticing how she wasn't doing half of her tasks and was passing them on to others.

She let her mind focus on what she had to do that day, she had to go visit young mother Cindy, she worked at the Roseville Gazette, she was very nice to her. This was going to be her first child that she had decided to have by artificial insemination, she didn't mind being a single mother, she was in her sixth month, her belly was very big and in three weeks she was going to start her maternity retreat. Something he liked about her was how gossipy she was, he loved to sit next to her and listen to everything that went on in her office, it was because of her that he found out that Olsen had a reputation for being a womanizer, an idiot with a big ego, many envied him for his success with Ghostface.

For her he was just another idiot who profited from the art of another, that morning she had seen the article he had done for her crime on Sunday, she was half offended that they would take her work by the hands of Ghostface when it had been her, at least something that made her happy was to see how Olsen left a little doubt that it had been the other murderer, but it would have been rather that a new one had arrived in the city. If she could, she would send Gloria's heart to him as a thank you and she could put herself in the spotlight. 

She arrived at the room where Cindy was waiting, she had to take her vital signs and then leave her in Dr. Anne's hands for an ultrasound.  She smiled when she saw Cindy's reddish hair, greeted her and went to the shelves to take out the sphygmomanometer for her blood pressure, it was strange for the others to see her using that obsolete instrument when digital ones already existed. 

"Could you please give me your arm, Miss Cindy?"  She asked holding up the instrument, she watched as the woman did as request, she saw in Cindy's eyes how she was already going to complain to her for calling her Miss.

"Luna, I already told you that you could stop calling me Miss." The redhead smiled at the sight of her favorite nurse as she cooperated with what she asked. "Luna, you're not going to believe what happened in the office, I have to tell you the gossip of the history." He noticed how she was so excited to tell someone else her experiences, Fanny adored this woman, she was on his never to attack list as well as being included in his moral code.

She heard about the new rumour that Olsen had fallen out with the boss for the thousandth time, that would explain her appearance in the paper, it was normal that Olsen did not totally follow the orders given to him by his boss and took a lot of creative liberties in the articles he did for the Gazette. He had become famous for being stubborn and not changing his opinions for others.

She kept taking her vital signs, the sides of her heart and lungs, to write them down on the chart paper used to report to the doctor. She continued to listen as the woman told her about her experiences at work, the typical love affairs of secretaries and bosses, the problems of having a swollen belly when she was a reporter who had to visit many places for her writing.

She let her mind be consumed by her thoughts, what could she have that day, a nice lemon liver or lung stew, she had so much to choose from. She did believe in the phrase it is what you eat, for she was a very human person, even if she considered that those, she ate were not very nice, and kind. She snapped out of her own thoughts when she heard Cindy calling out to her to see if she was paying attention, so she decided to answer her.

"I'm sorry Cindy, I was thinking about today's duties, I apologize for missing your story" She answered to pick up the stethoscope to listen to the heartbeat of the baby growing inside the redhead.

As she listened to her heartbeat, she heard Cindy mention that she already had several names planned for the tenderness growing inside her, Fanny could only smile as she heard that she planned Sydney as a possibility, a very nice name and a beautiful city as well.

"That will be all, Cindy, I'll go and get Dr. Anne, she'll be along shortly to see you" They both said their goodbyes, as Fanny left, she left the clipboard in the door holder.

She started to walk towards the rest room of this area, when she got there, she saw Dr. Anne Jackson, when she saw her the woman got up to start walking towards her.

Anne Jackson was a 42-year-old woman, a brunette with a few grey hairs from her extensive experience in obstetrics. Mrs. Jackson smiled at the sight of the blonde.

"Dr. Jackson, Miss Miller, you are ready for your consultation." Fanny advised as she gave the doctor a sweet grin.

"Thank you, Graham, you left the papers at the door, didn't you?" the doctor asked as she began to put her gown back on, to which the blonde nodded to add.

"Yes ma'am, also, remember after Miss Miller, comes Mrs. Porter, remember to wear gowns because of the mysophobia." Luna said as she watched the doctor start to make her way to the office.

"Thank you, Graham, now if you'll excuse me there is work to do." The woman began to walk back the way Luna had come from, she sighed as she felt satisfied to see how she had finished a task.

She decided to look at the time on her pocket watch (it was one of those pocket watches you would see in the 19th century) noting that it was the start of her lunch break, she went to check out and collect her things to go out for lunch, something that was routine for her every Tuesday.

She usually went to lunch at a family business, a restaurant called Daisy, where they had the best sandwiches in town, her favourite was always the Italian one, the combination of the sausages, the two types of cheese, mozzarella and provolone, and the fresh vegetables, was a work of art.

She began to walk to the restaurant, which was only a block and a half from her work, hoping that her lunch break would be peaceful and that there would be no inconvenience of any kind.

Danny was sitting in a booth of the diner with a strawberry milkshake and a half-eaten sandwich in front of him, he had his notebook of drafts of his writings, he couldn't believe his luck, first he had a murderous block and now writer's block, he swore by Philly that he was going to kill anyone who was near him.

He looked up from his notebook when he heard the door chime, his curiosity made him peek out of the side of the booth where he was to see who it was that had entered the premises.

That's when he saw the girl that lately was making him doubt about what would be his next step in Roseville, Luna Graham, by the information he had collected from Cindy when he had talked to her about how her pregnancy was progressing, by the information she had given him, Luna was from Boston but because of her charitable works she rotated from state to state in any hospital or clinic that asked for help, the last one she had been in was in Texas, where she left after having problems with the weather, to be specific fainting due to heat strokes, something suspicious if you asked him. Also, he found that the girl seemed to have Latin ancestry from a small Central American country thanks to her mother, her blonde hair was because of her father, who was American, she said she had gained all the recessive genes from her father, something that unfortunately had happened to him as well.

He took a good look at what the girl was wearing now, her light blue nurse's scrub, he thought it was adorable to see that her uniform shirt had a sun and moon drawn where her heart should be and she was wearing a long sleeve shirt underneath with the same design, it must have been personalised. He saw that she was walking around with a bag on her side that seemed to contain one or more heavy books, he was very attentive to see how Daisy, the owner of the dinner, changed her frown when she saw the blonde.

"Luna, what's up, I assume you'll be ordering your usual, sweetheart." Daisy spoke to her very charismatic, now she had another clue from the owner of her uncertainty, she came to the restaurant often. Luna nodded as she set her things down on the chair next to where she sat at the bar.

"That's right, Miss Daisy, I hope, if there's any of my usual, it's been a tiring day." Luna spoke as she pulled a medical magazine out of her bag, she was still beaming, that smile was strange in Danny's eyes, it seemed natural but artificial, something she had only ever seen in the very smiles he gave as Jed.

He pondered a bit if he should approach the girl, but first he was not going to let that excellent Italian sandwich go to waste, it was his favourite of all the food places in town. When he finished, he took his milkshake and started walking to the bar, getting increasingly into character as he got closer.

"What a great surprise to meet you here, dear missy." He spoke gently as he saw the woman's surprise as he saw her face, he could quickly read the title of the magazine that was in her possession, "Medical Novelties in the field of forensic pathology, read the new methods of performing autopsies on patients", how curious that a nurse would read something about autopsies when her job was the furthest thing from that field of study.

"Um... It's a pleasure to see you too, Mr. Olsen." He watched as the girl blushed, he did not know if it was from embarrassment or discomfort, either way, it made him feel more interested in this prey in front of him. "Am... I mean Jed, I'm sorry I forgot your request for me to call you by name at our next meeting."

He wanted to laugh at how the girl just embarrassed herself, he waved his hand as he said, "You have nothing to worry about missy, I rather appreciate how much respect you have for someone like me." He let out that smug smirk he hated to do, but Jed was very narcissistic and needed it.

The blonde blushed more intensely at his words, as she tried to hide from his gaze in her magazine. Danny smiled inwardly at how adorable she looked, like a scared doe before the evil fox that would eat her.

"It's what one should normally do, Jed." She spoke almost in a whisper as she remained embarrassed, fiddled with the pages of the magazine.

The brun continued to converse with the blonde, it was a casual chat between the two, normal questions were asked, what do you like, how had her life in Roseville gone on, for Danny it was an interrogation without the girl being aware of it, he wanted to know more about his next muse.

Luna seemed to be everything Cindy had narrated to him, a very good young woman, with a sweet heart, she spoke to him, even if she was a heavy introvert, with honesty. She had told him about her Texas experiences, how it was fun to see all kinds of different injuries from the craziest stories of field work.

He laughed with her when she told him one of those crazy stories, some farmers came up with the idea of practicing archery with their family for the upcoming hunting season, because their youngest son, who was 10, ended up shooting an arrow into the backside of one of his older brothers, she says she still remembers all the curses she learned that day thanks to the family's frustration.

When Daisy returned, she herself was surprised to see that shy light blue-eyed girl, she handed her the sandwich with a smile, as she watched curiously.

"You are a very interesting person, Jed." The girl commented to him as she started to take her lunch, they both continued with their talk, for an outsider they should be good friends.

Some of the topics they touched on were, how Luna was impressed by the events in the city, Jed told her a bit about the old jobs he had had in other cities, always in gazettes. They both noted the casualty that they both had lifestyles that would be considered nomadic, that only reaffirmed Danny's suspicions that something was hidden by this woman.

"I never thought the life of a journalist was all that interesting, honestly." She admitted the girl after swallowing a good bite of her sandwich, Jed smiled with his ego as, he said it was just the usual for someone like him.

Luna finished eating and continued talking to the brown-eyed man, Danny didn't want to accept it, however, he felt that little voice in the back of his brain was ordering him that he had to get that hypnotic color out of her, that strong red, that red that left the metallic scent in all his sense of smell. He snapped out of his trance-like state as he heard the blonde's apology that she had to start getting back to his work.

"I appreciate your company today, Jed, still, it's almost the end of my break for lunch, hopefully we can meet again." The girl put away her magazine as she gave that cutesy smile, he conceded with his opinion.

"Only luck would allow me to see such a sweet missy like you again, my dear." He winked his eye mischievously, he wanted to tease as he watched the girl drop off her meal money as quickly as possible while escaping her courtship.

He mimicked her actions leaving the money for his order on the bar, he began his walk back to the office, keeping the whole new idea formulated in his brain, it seems his ultimate work of art in this city was beginning to take shape.

That Wednesday night her only company was cheap Chinese food, the binoculars in her hands and her notebook, you might wonder what the hell she was doing at fucking 1am on the roof of a few flats staring at a specific flat on the 4th floor. Well, the answer was very simple, it was the end of his second month, her much-loved gluttony had caused her to be left with two provisions out of the seven she had collected from Gloria, she cursed NBC for letting her get inspired and cravings from watching how well Hannibal Lecter cooked.

Appartement 4-D was where her new dinner He found him when he had gone for a follow-up of a shoulder dislocation, when she saw his record, she noticed how spectacular his record was, his body mass was perfect, he had an excellent balance, he didn't have much fat but he had enough to be healthy. If she managed to have a good time, she could even take cuts out of his muscles, something she hadn't done for months, she never found such a good candidate to spend her time on it.

With her binoculars she observed the whole structure of the building, the emergency staircase seemed to be difficult to climb because of how old it was, she still had a few days to test that metal staircase. The windows were old and the locks were rusty, a few taps with her cane and she would be able to get in easily. She also had to test the density of the walls just in case the prosciutto she was chasing might put up a fight, she hoped her mixed martial arts skills would help her against the big guy.

She took some chop suey she had bought from the 24/7 restaurant in town, took her notebook and wrote down the most important things about the building that would be her new canvas.

In that booklet were all the most important things about each victim she had stalked, she always put the name of a cut of meat or a cold meat.

Her creativity could be one of her best qualities, the way she created that code which made it difficult to know what she was saying in that booklet, what she mentioned was as if she was a cooking fanatic who wrote down her gastronomic experience, the way she always positioned her victims in different ways so that they didn't notice any other pattern than that of the organs.

Honestly, she did think of them as food for her, cuts of meat that she enjoyed with the best recipes she could find in her gastronomic books and recipes.

In these nights of loneliness, she began to reflect on her actions in life, even when she started all this cannibalism, in her thoughts, she helped to not hurt animals, technically humans are animals though for her and many humans were the monsters of this life, who had been the one that made her fall into this habit of cannibalizing her equals, how was their face, these and other things were hidden in that forbidden vault of her mind.

Fuck, she needed a good fucking lavender or mint ciggie, whatever but she needed smoke in her body, as she saw the lights in the flat come on, it was John just back from work, that was her cue to get out of there, the prosciutto would go to sleep, she needed at least 8 or 9 hours of sleep too, she loved Thursdays when she started at 10 am at the clinic. She picked up the few things she had on the roof, put her balaclava on and walked down the stairs to her car, which was in the alley next to the building where she was watching.

Monday, the first day of her second month in Roseville, it was exactly midnight, she had gone an hour earlier than John usually came back, she needed to set the stage. She was ready to commit her work of art today. She stared at the building in front of her, she had already unfolded the top of the stairs. She just needed a little warm up before she entered the place, you never know when she might get a wound for not having warmed up her muscles properly, something she had learned in her first year of action. She took from her car her mask, her bag and lastly the cane with the raven handle she liked to use, that same cane was from an antique shop she had gotten very cheap.

She checked that the lenses of the mask were not fogged up, and with it on she began to climb each step of the metal structure in silence, until she reached the fourth floor. She looked at the window, noticing how John had put the lock on it. Ha! What an idiot if he only realized that those locks were the cheapest, she had ever seen. She tapped on the metal, one, two, three, and it was open, she crept in, took the main items from the bag she carried in her waistband, a speaker, her cocktail, her kit and ice chest, those last two she hid under the kitchen counter.

She looked at the contents of the syringe, just in case she had brought two doses that night, she put them both in the pockets of her jacket, she started walking towards John's room, there she would place the speaker, she had recorded on tape the moans and sounds of the carnal act, on Thursday she noticed that the walls were very thin, if there was a fight back she needed something to cover it up, an extra point she had to mention was that more than once at this hour she took great aversion at hearing the upstairs neighbours committing that, she assumed John would not be surprised to hear that when he came in.

She left it on the lad's bed, smiled as she felt her mind machining every damn detail of what she would do that night, for all the most beautiful cats, how she loved being able to commit these crimes considered crimes against humanity. Seriously she should take a psychiatrist as her next victim and while she had him drugged have a session without paying, what a good idea she should write it down later.

She pulled out her pocket watch and looked at the time it was barely 12:15 am, she had a good 45 minutes to do whatever she could think of so why not play around the flat a bit, she noticed the swivel chair on the desk John had in the living room, why was it shown to her.

She swivelled and swivelled as she let little giggles escape her lips, they might think it was very childish, but it connected her to her past, as much as she disliked it, she loved bringing back the few good memories that existed from that childhood. She swivelled a few more times in the chair, before sighing and stopping to let her mind waste away in the pain of thinking about that past she hid so deep in her mind.

She looked at a fixed point before she came out of her thoughts, she decided to look in her bag for the magazine she never managed to finish reading, all thanks to Olsen’s fault, she placed her watch in her hand so she wouldn't miss the arrival of the prosciutto at any moment.

The reading was interesting, it told of a new method that was being developed to facilitate the extraction of blood from a body, a machine that would introduce formalin into the body and the blood would be drawn, something that would make the work of forensic pathologists much easier. It was interesting to see what the new decade would bring, the beginning of a new millennium, it would be interesting to see if she could come up with better ways to catch people like her, cold-blooded killers.

She looked at the glass clock, it was 12:50 am, it was time to put everything away and prepare everything, she walked gracefully into the room and played the perverted sounds that would serve as a cover. She decided that her hiding place would be a dimly lit corner with black curtains drawn.

Within minutes, she heard the jingling sound of keys going into the lock, it was a faint sound from the moaning, still, her trained ear managed to hear it, she watched as John entered the flat with a look of disgust, oh love, you don't want that to be the last face before you take your final breath.

She watched him walk around his flat without any discomfort at the lack of light, when she saw him turn his back to her, she decided to come out slowly from where she was hiding, she tightened her gloves before she was less than a metre away from him, she touched his shoulder to turn him over, just when he would react, he received a punch from Famine directly on his nose, being on her knuckle as it had been dislocated, something she would have to fix later.

John's eyes were watery, and he felt dizzy, that blow had altered all his systems. Just as he was about to defend himself, he felt a strong blow to his ribs, it seemed to be something metallic, in the little he could see he noticed the foot of his attacker, which he decided to take to unbalance him and flee to his room.

Fanny felt how she fell before the strong pull that John had given her, she almost fell to the ground if she hadn't grabbed a piece of furniture, she pulled herself together quickly seeing where her victim was going, she grabbed her cane, it was time to leave marks on the wretch. She trotted quickly to where John was staggering, pulled him by the collar of his shirt making him hit his back against the floor, placed her boot on the man's chest.

She pulled out her syringe, holding it in her dominant hand while with the other she took the baton and gave him a good stun shot to the head, in a matter of seconds she had the syringe in his jugular vein releasing the contents. She kept her boot on the Italian American’s chest, after having pulled out the syringe, she loved watching him fight to get her off him, she needed him to have a high heart rate thanks to the adrenaline, that would increase the effectiveness of the drug. She let a wicked grin begin to form on her lips as she watched the man's movements become weaker and weaker, she let more pressure build on his chest to complete saying.

"What's up rude boy, do you feel bad that a lassie like me has made you this submissive." She scoffed leaning on the knee of the leg she had on him.

She saw the man's desperation in his eyes, she would have continued to mock him, had she not noticed a movement at the window through which she had entered.

When she finally turned her face fully to see what was in it, that's when she saw the object of her current admiration in Roseville, someone who made people not want to leave their homes, Ghostface himself was staring back at her in that black abyss he had for eyes.

Bloody fucking hell, she had fucked up.

[lilflowerpot]

You probably already know about this, but i was reading an old post where you said how weird it is that Lotor and Keith are perfect narrative foils and I just wondered if you knew there was actually a reason for that? I think (as we can only speculate from what the people involved in the show said) that was by design. However as Shiro was a fan favourite and had unexpected popularity he was written back into the show earlier, despite the fact they had already storyboarded/written at least parts of s4 so they kind of replaced Keith with Shiro in s4 and sent Keith to the BOM. I feel like re-inserting keith back into the narrative though makes so much more sense in some scenes as it explains why some parts felt so *not* lead-up to and out of character and why a lot of loose ends weren’t tied off (Naxzela fallout, Keith being a hybrid never really developed, why the paladins never really mention Keith leaving to the BOM much, Shiro trusting Lotor after very little lead up and giving him the bayard which seems like a much more keith-ey instinctive thing to do, Keith & Lotor’s narrative foils and potential friendship as well as being a perfect way to get the audience to trust and like Lotor even more before his betrayal, Shiro being written suddenly as hot-headed and using Keith’s mannerisms, like his wall leaning thing etc)

There’s an interesting video that explains it a lot better here if you are interested: https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=iiFiVFxR_Q8

(Also to be clear absolutely no hate to anyone who made the show, it was still great.)

Also thanks so much for writing little blade! Your attention to detail in world building is amazing and really gives an extra depth to the story and makes it so engrossing.

As you say, we can only really speculate the ins and outs of why certain decisions were made and narrative directions taken, and honestly the fact that there's so much that we as fans simply don't know makes it really hard to comment, but ultimately, whatever the writer's reasoning for doing what they did,,, they messed up.

I'm not even saying this as someone who, obviously, loves Lotor blindly, but to use him as an example, his character arc didn't make sense; I can accept absolutely everything (alteans being used as batteries included) as a valid and narratively-supported exploration of his character up until his declaration that he wanted to commit genocide and wipe out the entire galra race,,, because that went against literally everything his character had been built upon. It wasn't a "twist" that served to prove he'd been pulling a long con, it was just... bad writing, plain and simple. Lotor, who'd been actively working to undermine everything his father had become, is ~revealed~ to want to commit the same atrocity that Zarkon did, just in reverse?? Lotor who begged on his knees for the lives of Ven'tar and her people- Lotor who was so gentle when talking to Allura about everything he'd lost in the past and everything he wished to build in the future- Lotor who was trying to create a second Voltron not as a weapon but rather as a means of supplying an endless source of clean energy for the Empire so that it would no longer have cause to devastate and destroy entire planets... that Lotor?

And look, here's the thing, so they'd planned to kill Shiro off only to be surprised that he was popular and so bring him back, fine, they had enough time to do that and do it well... but did they? Because frankly, Kuron got more dedicated screen time than "resurrected" Shiro, and all they really succeeded in doing was shove an obsolete character into a narrative that no longer had room for him, which was d e e p l y unsatisfying no matter how you slice it. I say this as someone who //adores// Shiro, and wanted nothing more than for him to be alive, but from an authorial perspective it felt deeply disingenuous and like an obvious after-thought. Not to mention, as that video says, "team voltron" didn't feel like a team at all, by the end—they barely knew each other let alone liked one another. Keith's ousting from the squad had so much potential from a "Kuron is a double-agent actively working to destabilise voltron" sort of way, but if they wanted that to work then there needed to be some recognition of what happened? Some apologies from the other paladins for never really fighting for Keith at all? Never understanding he was grieving not only Shiro but Regris too (sans, of everyone, Allura, who was the only person to actually recognise & acknowledge that Keith was in pain)?

Speaking of Allura, she's another character who suffered from what I can only assume was the writers repeatedly changing their minds on the direction of the story and simply shoving her into whatever box best fit. She & Keith at first seemed to be building something important, and while I'm not especially a kallura shipper, god, at least they had an actual foundation for a relationship (in whatever form) hard-won,,, having her throw herself at Lance, who she'd shown ZERO interest in before that point, immediately after her former lover (1) reveals he has a secret colony of her people that he's been using as living batteries, and (2) dIES RIGHT IN FRONT OF HER...? She should have been grieving, and //slowly// healing, but instead she jumps straight into a new relationship that the narrative treats as if it's some sort of epic yet tragically doomed romance rather than an ill-thought rebound?

It just.. it wasn't even a good plot, let alone a satisfying one.

Hunk was originally implied to be the beating heart of the group, except they gave him next to no screen-time only to realise in those last couple of seasons "shit, people are supposed to care about him, errr have a tragic family rescue mission". Lance was treated as a joke from day one, despite being set up to (I personally suspect) become Keith's right hand and emotional support in more than just battle. Keith himself was repeatedly given all the foundations for genuinely solid and satisfying plots only to never quite follow through in the end (learning to let down his walls, to trust, to love- until the entire team casts him out never to apologise for it and only takes him back when they lose their replacement once more / becoming a confident leader and Shiro's successor only for it to be undermined and then thrown back together again when convenient / finding and building a relationship with his mother, except they speed-ran it in one montage and had Krolia leave again soon after).

Truthfully, Pidge is probably the only core character who managed to come out at the end with what felt like a properly concluded arc.

[s3tok41b4]

I really think that the biggest missed opportunity with Alastor’s character is simply just *not* making him a has-been.

I think, in the show, Alastor is very over powered. I get why- he’s meant to be super cool/edgy, but honestly this only serves as a detriment to his character *and* the show.

Alastor would be so much cooler if he actually *wasn’t* as powerful as he used to be- a fact which he knows deep down but is too prideful to admit. I imagine we start off the show under the impression that Alastor is super powerful- however, as it goes on, the cracks slowly start to show. Everyone in the hotel starts to ask questions- “Alastor, if you hate Vox so much, why haven’t you just killed him already?” “Alastor, why have you been dormant for so long?” “Alastor, why can’t you just take down Valentino and easily solve most of our problems?”

Perhaps it can even all culminate in some sort of battle (maybe someone attacks the hotel, idk)- and Alastor assures everyone that he has this covered, but then he fails. He fails like so miserably that it’s almost funny, and suddenly things click into place- because *of course the radio demon isn’t the most powerful overlord in Hell by any stretch.* His powers revolve around *radios,* something that have become mostly obsolete. How could he possibly ever be a true rival to Vox, who controls literally *all technology* ??

That’s why Alastor has laid low for so long. That’s why Alastor hasn’t done anything to Vox or Valentino. That’s why Alastor’s main contribution to the hotel is only a bar and two employees. That’s why Alastor has to rely on tricks and manipulation to keep his power (unlike canon Alastor- who is extremely temperamental in a way that just makes everything 10 times more difficult for him and makes him seem like a whiney baby), because he can’t possibly ever win in an honest fight. 

That’s why Alastor is so obsessed with this hotel at all. That’s why he likes to call everyone in it has-beens because he’s projecting. 

(… also I love this headcanon in a radiodust perspective. I think there’s so much potential there of Alastor wanting so badly to free Angel from Valentino but knowing that *he can’t* and he hates himself for that. Of course Alastor eventually would find a way because he mostly makes up for what he lacks in pure power with good/clever plans, but it’s the fact that he is unable to do so right away that eats him up.)

… I could go on and on about this but I’m going to shut up now. I’m so sorry for rambling so much but it just always annoyed me to see how over powered Alastor is in the show, and I think if they leaned into Alastor being a bit of a washed up has-been people would like him a lot more as it’d add so much more depth and character (and would add a lot more stakes to the story- because if Alastor can easily take down basically anyone, there’s no reason for me to be worried at all).

This genuinely sounds so damn cool anon like, I really like this idea 👀

[akookminsupporter]

I am not even a jikooker, mainly just here for JM but it’s absolutely insane how so many people are trying so hard to downplay or put a negative spin on their tokyo trip. If they didn’t at least like each other they wouldn’t be dedicating time to go on an exclusive trip this close to MS. Full stop, whether it’s for work or not. Also common sense seems to be lacking with a lot of fan groups because why is it a big deal that Jimin was shopping at a store alone? Maybe JK didn’t want or need anything from that particular store so Jimin just popped in quickly with a manager to get stuff on his own. He was clearly in a hurry because he even forgot the items after paying. Why would the two of them enter the store together unnecessarily to risk more recognition and chaos? Did we not see the circus that was the hokkaido airport footage? Seeing other pjms jumping on that fan encounter as if it proves jm and jk aren’t together on this trip when we know for a fact that they are is so?? Also seeing jikookers attacking the op because they feel like her story somehow is proof against jk is also weird and insane. Everyone has lost the plot and needs to chill and just enjoy the fact that jk and jm are getting some time in together, whether as friends or as more, and preparing a ton of content for our days of drought that lie ahead.

Everyone has lost the plot and needs to chill and just enjoy the fact that jk and jm are getting some time in together, whether as friends or as more, and preparing a ton of content for our days of drought that lie ahead.

I couldn't have said it better myself, anon. I totally agree with you.

The need that many have, not just those in the subgroup, as we've already seen, for Jimin and Jungkook not to get along and to hate each other is baffling. The need they have to belittle the bond they share is over the top. The desperation they always exhibit to prove that they are not together, that they don't get along, that this or that is not true, is bizarre at best.

These people love to label everything the two of them do together or that involves the two of them as fanservice, and I've concluded that they don't know what fanservice is. It's the same as many calling everyone sasaeng. They don't need to resort to fanservice at this point in their careers, definitely not after the success they have shown even as solo artists. So, that narrative is more than obsolete.

Jimin and Jungkook decided to do whatever they are doing together. Jungkook said that the idea goes back a few years, and it was Jimin who suggested it, and he agreed immediately. I won't be surprised if, when whatever they're doing is released, they mention it too.

They wanted to do this together. They planned their schedules in such a way that they could do this during this time. That says a lot about how much they enjoy being together. It's stupid to deny that they enjoy being together, that they are an important part of each other's lives. Acknowledging or accepting that doesn't mean you have to believe that they are in a romantic relationship; you just have to accept that they like being together.

Now, as for what the Japanese account said, I haven't seen messages against them; I've only seen people asking them for more details. But to take that as evidence of anything to discredit the bond between Jimin and Jungkook is silly. We've all seen them arrive and leave Tokyo together. Jungkook arrived in Hokkaido filming with a GoPro. As you say, Jimin decided to go to that shop alone; maybe Jungkook was outside waiting for him, maybe it was part of whatever they were filming. We don't know. Just because they are together in that country doesn't mean they should be together 24 hours a day.

What I keep confirming over and over again, or what Jimin and Jungkook keep confirming over and over again, is that no matter what the haters say, their relationship is not going to change. They will continue being themselves, behaving with each other as they please, and that's it.

In a way, I'm glad that when whatever they are doing is released, they won't have much time on their hands to watch any of it. I'm glad that each member decided to spend their last days or weeks as civilians the way they wanted to.

[outeremissary]

Actually good gameplay/bad story vs. bad gameplay/good story poll has me thinking a lot about "bad gameplay." I feel like that's often treated as a really binary thing, but like. How many games out there is this subject often hotly contested on? How many older games, how many cult classics? I feel like for every game with "bad gameplay" there's at least one person defending the impact it has on the experience and atmosphere of the game. I've seen someone get heated about the idea of making inventory limits in older RPGs more lax when porting the games to modern systems because it removes stakes from the game to be able to carry More Items. You lose an edge of puzzle and of wilderness survival. The inventory management question is one that often pops up in discussions around horror games as well- what's a badly designed inventory and what's one that's frustrating intentionally? Or one that's excusable by the limits of its age? Is clunky combat bad in a combat heavy action game, or can it push the game's genre to suggest something else atmospherically? I really enjoy defenses of gameplay that's "bad" or "obsolete." I haven't been playing Dragon's Dogma 2 and have no way to judge one way or another, but I have heard it called unfriendly, backwards, and bad by detractors and unfriendly, backwards, and good by defenders. It's so fascinating where people draw the line and what criteria they use to determine what's passing and failing. And then when there are whole mechanics people love or hate too! I was looking at escort mission discourse just today. Conversation where on the one hand some people believe there's no way at all to attain a theoretically possible good implementation of an escort mission, while other people see even the most player unfriendly implementations as a challenge of player skill rather than a failure of design.

I don't really have anywhere I'm going with this, I just felt that the more I thought about it the more interesting it was because of the ways that gameplay could be interpreted through age, technical implementation, genre, and player tolerance in ways very distinct from how story and writing are judged. I think "good gameplay" as a concept is often positioned as gameplay which is snappy, clean, and accessible (accessibility exception carved out for games that sell themselves as Hard Games) with precise and technically well crafted controls, but I've seen so many cases for good gameplay being the absolute fucking opposite if it produces an interesting play experience. And you could say "oh, that's determined by the intent of the creators," but do you always have a way to know their intent? And how many games come together actually according to plan, with no schedule slippage and everything implemented exactly according to vision?

To use an example near and dear to me- yeah, I'm not leaving the Kingmaker in the tags after all- a part of Kingmaker's gameplay loop is kingdom management. You're exploring, fighting, and interacting with the world, but you're also coming to rule it through the kingdom, and this has to be balanced as a part of this loop just like all the other pieces. Kingdom management feeds back into the other pieces of the game- it gives mechanical benefits, it opens up new interactions, and when you explore it backfills the empty space you leave behind with something new, the kingdom, which can be further transformed. It also fills a different kind of empty space, the temporal space between chapters, and gives you meaningful choices to make when the plot isn't at a fever pitch by making it so that how you use your time has stakes beyond what exploration and quests provide. Kingdom management is also timer dependent and RNG heavy as fuck, and at points can feel very unfair even if I'd argue it seldom ever traps you and never traps you without an actual reason. It's also situated in a genre, the RPG, where RNG is seen as an acceptable and even expected part of gameplay systems. For me, kingdom management enhances the experience of the game and is an extremely worthwhile addition to the gameplay which plays in enjoyable ways off of other aspects of the gameplay. It's a part of a memorable and fun play experience. But so many people fucking hate kingdom management and see it as not just something they dislike, but something which is Bad in design and implementation. It's positioned as disruptive, unwieldy, player unfriendly, overwhelming, and arbitrary. And I see the case for all of those points. And I don't think there's any final way to objectively settle whether it's Good or Bad, and that ultimately what it gives to the game very much comes down to player preferences and playstyle. How you interact with a game gives these systems their meanings and impacts.

I don't really have a conclusion to this. It's just kind of word vomit getting the thoughts out of my head. ^^;; But I don't know. I think it's something really interesting, the fact that there's not necessarily an objective way of seeing gameplay as good or bad the same way that there's not an objective way to see a story. I answered that poll "bad gameplay and good story," but when I think about the games that make me choose that, it's not like they're unplayable even if sometimes I truly hate the experience of playing them. I think that their gameplay gives them meaning, specificity, and staying power in my mind for how I experienced the game because of this gameplay in a way that games with "good" gameplay can't always provide.

[babbybones]

Oekaki updatez...

Monster Kidz Oekaki is still up and i'd like to keep it that way, but i need to give it some more attention and keep people updated on what's going on/what my plans are for it. so let me jot some thoughts down...

data scraping for machine learning: this has been a concern for a lot of artists as of late, so I've added a robots.txt file and an ai.txt file (as per the opt-out standard proposed by Spawning.ai) to the site in an effort to keep out as many web crawlers for AI as possible. the site will still be indexed by search engines and the Internet Archive. as an additional measure, later tonight I'll try adding "noai", "noimageai", and "noml" HTML meta tags to the site (this would probably be quick and easy to do but i'm soooo sleepy 🛌)

enabling uploads: right now, most users can only post art by drawing in one of the oekaki applets in the browser. i've already given this some thought for a while now, but it seems like artist-oriented spaces online have been dwindling lately, so i'd like to give upload privileges to anyone who's already made a drawing on the oekaki and make a google form for those who haven't (just to confirm who you are/that you won't use the feature maliciously). i would probably set some ground rules like "don't spam uploads"

rules: i'd like to make the rules a little less anal. like, ok, it's no skin off my ass if some kid draws freddy fazbear even though i hope scott cawthon's whole empire explodes. i should also add rules pertaining to uploads, which means i'm probably going to have to address AI generated content. on one hand i hate how, say, deviantart's front page is loaded with bland, tacky, "trending on artstation"-ass AI generated shit (among other issues i have with the medium) but on the other hand i have no interest in trying to interrogate someone about whether they're a Real Artist or scream at someone with the rage of 1,000 scorned concept artists for referencing an AI generated image someone else posted, or something. so i'm not sure how to tackle this tastefully

"Branding": i'm wondering if i should present this as less of a UTDR Oekaki and more of a General Purpose Oekaki with a monster theming. functionally, there wouldn't be much of a difference, but maybe the oekaki could have its own mascot

fun stuff: is having a poll sort of "obsolete" now because of tumblr polls, or should I keep it...? i'd also like to come up with ideas for Things To Do like weekly/monthly art prompts, or maybe games/events like a splatfest/artfight type thing. if you have any ideas of your own, let me know

boring stuff: i need to figure out how to set up automated backups, so i guess i'll do that sometime soon... i should also update the oekaki software sometime (this is scary because i've made a lot of custom edits to everything)

Money: well this costs money to host so I might put a ko-fi link for donations somewhere... at some point... maybe.......

[thegoldenappleofdiscord]

caught in the river of tears that i cried

summary:

Haven’t you ever felt anything strange about the world around you? The satyr had asked. About yourself?

No, Will wanted to shout. He hated the way Maron made him sound like he was some jilted puzzle piece, trying to fit where he shouldn’t. Perhaps there had been the occasional anomaly – like when he'd once seen a golden stag at the creek, or the time he’d had a substitute teacher in kindergarten with a single eye – but these things passed like silt. They meant nothing if he decided they didn’t, and he kept each secret tucked within the folds of his heart, where they would wither away and become obsolete, and he could feel normal again.

(The most difficult part of listening to Maron speak, however, was the confirmation of things Will had denied to himself, over and over, ever since he had been a child.)

or: will can only push down a part of him for so long. (will has plague powers, but he's known it from the very start.)

chapter one on ao3!

beta-read by the lovely @nellhargreeves!!! this fic wouldn't have got off the ground without them <3

.

.

.

i. there's rotten things left in me

Will Solace’s first word was Mama. The second was sorry. 

He used that word quite frequently – like when he spilled juice on the coffee table and broke down into tears because it had stained the carpet; or when he accidentally knocked over a stuffed animal and caressed its crocheted head until he was certain it would no longer be upset with him. They were all little mistakes, ones that Naomi couldn’t fault him for, not really. He was only a toddler, after all. 

Still, her son always felt the need to say he was sorry. Even for the smallest of things;, events that barely registered in the foggy thicket of her mind. He’d come up and tug at her dress while her mind sluggishly flittered between concert planning and song lyrics and a million other duties, always with that same guilty look on his face, mouth downturned, and his eyes sad in the way a three-year-old's should never be.  

He’d stretch as far as his toes could take him and whisper his crime, stubby fingers smoothing out his shirt like a debutante anxiously pleating their skirt. Each time she would only laugh and ruffle his hair. It’s okay , she’d tell him. Nothin’ to apologize for, toots.   

That small, silly smile would ooze across his cheeks, uncertain but beautiful. He’d hug her legs tight and mumble out a thank you , so soft and reverent that she couldn’t believe this was her son. Her son, who was too gentle for any child, too willing to help. She wondered if he’d glimpsed her arriving from yet another evening at the local diner, choked in the smell of coffee and carrying eyebags just as dark. She wondered if he’d watched her sag against the couch, wincing as she pulled her curls from their bun, the locks stringy and tangled from the humidity of the kitchen diner. Had he heard every tepid sigh? Had he followed her with those sad eyes as she prepared herself a saucer of tea, then fell asleep at the counter before it was ready?  

Naomi could only hope that he hadn’t. He apologized, though, as if he had.  

Will was good. Good in the way that angels were - but could  the child of a god and a mortal even be an angel? There were days where she wondered...   

One moment, her son would be laughing with other kids at the playground, cheering them on during their jungle-gym tournaments, drawing cryptic messages in the sandbox, as normal as any other child in a crowd of colorful coats and muddy boots. The next, his chin would pivot, and the crisp morning rays would hit him just so, spilling over his face like the hand of his father had descended to bless him. His curls shone like golden straw and his eyes cut through every other dull hue around him. Then, the sun would dip behind the clouds and he would blend in again, mortal amongst mortal, and she would start wondering all over again 

In truth, the otherworldly parts of him rarely showed, if at all. He ate his applesauce and went to bed early instead of protesting. He collected shiny rocks from the yard and shaped dirt pies in tiny metal tins. He behaved in school. He rarely got in trouble, always said please and excuse me and sorry . He was a good kid. He was good. 

So, when Will’s entire second grade class fell ill with a stomach bug, and her own son skipped home every day without a hint of sickness, Naomi had to bite  her tongue. She held his hand as they entered the house and listened patiently as he babbled on about his school day.  

“Everyone was gone!” he exclaimed, worry and curiosity bleeding across his youthful face. “Do you think they’ll be okay, Mama?” 

Naomi managed a laugh, hoping it would assure him. “Nobody ever died of a stomach bug, baby. They’ll be back before you know it.” 

They were the same words his teacher had told her only a few hours earlier: His classmates will all be back before he knows it. It’s to be expected, since it’s that time of year and all, though it truly is a shame. Your son is a lucky one, hm?  

She had only nodded, ignoring the tight feeling in her chest. Mm, yeah. Real lucky.  

read full chapter on ao3!