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breakfast-cereal · 1 month ago

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a cure for monotony

word count: 1.2k

description: Yagami Light was bored

notes: written for Day 1 of @deathnotetober 2024

[main masterlist] [work on ao3]

(c: Yayoi Kusama)

Yagami Light was bored, but not in the typical sense of disinterest. Light cared for various things: school, his parents, his sister, morality, justice. The list goes on. The thing is, life was monotonous.

Every day, Light suffered the same idiotic ramblings of his peers. Did you hear that Aiko-chan is dating Haruto? I got so drunk at that party last night! Hey, Yagami-kun, do you have the answers to the homework?

It wasn’t limited to school. Wherever Light went, he was tortured with the knowledge of his superiority. These people wasted their time gossiping and chatting about nonsense, living out their immoral lives without a care in the world.

Maybe life was more than monotonous. It was torturous until Light saw the Death Note.

He brushed it off as chain mail. Idiots loved those things. Forward this email, or you’ll be subjected to Reiko Kashima’s curse. Light scoffed but shoved the book into his school bag anyway. The black cover stained his hands. Call it morbid curiosity.

At his desk, Light flipped through the blank pages, fascinated and disgusted at the effort in creating the prank. He pushed it into his drawer, fighting the itch in his hands.

Light scribbled a few math problems into his workbook, glancing from his neat handwriting to the TV on his side table. He huffed and grabbed the remote. Morbid curiosity.

The news channel broadcasted the face of Otoharada Kurou, an older man hijacking a daycare. Light scowled as glee flooded his body. What depravity.

In his seventeen years of life, he has heard several arguments against the death penalty but disagreed with all of them. Men like Otoharada deserve to die. When activists say it’s immoral to kill another human being, he nearly laughs. Is it not the pinnacle of morality to remove filth from this earth? The justice system exists to rid Japan of depraved criminals. He has never felt the urge to defend them.

Light scribbled Otoharada’s name, keeping his face in mind like the notebook said. He looked at his watch, noting the seconds ticking by. Forty seconds. In forty seconds, the world would be free of Otoharada.

Thirty-five seconds passed, and nothing happened. Light flushed. He couldn’t believe himself, falling victim to a stupid prank like a common fool, too stuck in the emotions of it all. He shook his head, returning to his math problems.

The reporter gasped. Light swiveled, jumping from his chair to stare at the TV in horror. Otoharada died. Light killed him. Thickness welled in his throat, black like the ink staining Otoharada’s name on the Death Note’s page. Yagami Light killed a man. He wanted to vomit.

When Light picked up his pencil, his hands shook furiously. The reporter continued in the background, her words rattling between his ears. He couldn’t believe it worked. Was he a murderer?

He ran his fingers along the Death Note’s cover, sliding it inside his desk drawer. For the first time, Yagami Light was no longer bored.

Light gripped his cram school books under his arm, slinking into the bright 7-Eleven. On his walk home, he watched the degeneracy unfold around him like clockwork. Darkness brought out the wicked, and he began believing the creatures of the night in horror films were nothing more than amalgamations of Tokyo’s midnight streets.

Drunks stumbling out of bars, harassing any woman they can get their hands on. Students around his age, hanging off the arms of older men from the club they got into with their fake IDs. People had no shame, no decency. It revolted him. While they weren’t criminals, Light couldn’t deny the world would be better off without them.

A scream sounded from outside the store. Light looked up from the rows of energy drinks, catching sight of a group of men assaulting a terrified woman. He sneered and ran his hands along the side of his bookbag.

Light pulled a magazine from the magazine stand and slid the Death Note between its pages. On the man’s lips hung his name: Shibuimaru Takuo. He scribbled a few iterations, crossing his fingers the kanji were right. Finally, he etched 渋井丸 ��男 [1] into the page next to plain characters reading traffic accident.

The woman struggled from Shibuimaru’s grasp, starting down the street, her coat billowing behind her. Shibuimaru followed, revving the engine of his bike with furrowed brows.

Light scoffed. Of course, it wouldn’t work. He was naïve for thinking the first time wasn’t a fluke.

He returned to the energy drinks, plucking out his favourite flavours. Shibuimaru’s gang shouted. Light stared at the scene; Takuo’s bike was crushed against the concrete. His hands shook, and he forced the Death Note back into his book bag.

For the first time, Yagami Light killed someone who was not a criminal. Shibuimaru had not faced a trial in court, and he had not been found guilty.

Light stumbled out of the 7-Eleven, clutching his chest. He fell against the brick wall outside the store and felt dirty; his hands soiled with the death of an innocent. But that wasn’t a fair judgement. Shibuimaru was far from innocent. If Light hadn’t stopped him, he would’ve raped that woman. He would’ve been a criminal.

His body sparked with exhilaration. Yagami Light realized the Death Note was what he had been looking for all this time.

After Shibuimaru, Light spent his free nights scanning the NPA’s database and monitoring the news. Every stroke of his pen was liberating; every criminal erased from the world was a step closer to divinity.

The new possibilities unfurling elated Light. A world free of evil, free of cruelty. He held morality in his palm, and it was intoxicating.

He understood the implications of his actions. Light was smart, smarter than the average person. He knew murder received the death penalty, but he would martyr himself if he had to.

With the peoples’ interests at heart, Light trudged forward, correcting the NPA’s failures. He left the deaths blank but sensed the ripples of every heart attack along his spine. Light wanted criminals to know they were being punished.

When he wasn’t studying or correcting, he spent some time on occult blogs, learning the intricacies of the Death Note. To his surprise, no Shinigami came to him. He imagined they observed him and agreed.

The more he learnt about the Death Note, through use and reading, a strange reverence grew inside him. Not reverence for the Shinigami, but for the notebook itself. The gods blessed him with a tool to rid the world of evil. Light never wanted more.

Light took his Death Note from his desk, placing it alongside his textbooks and a black pen. He scanned the list of names imprinted on the pages and flipped on the TV.

Morality and justice used to be concepts Light could only ever fantasize about. Now, he held the power to enact them in his fingers.

For the first time in his life, Yagami Light felt true, unequivocal love.

[1]: The kanji for Shibuimaru Takuo

#deathnotetober2024 #death note fanfiction #death note #light yagami

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spookcataloger · 2 months ago

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Kashima Reiko

#creepypasta #black text #urban spooks #yokai #ghost stories #its a trap #curses #short stories #scary #unsettling

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violetsaffron5 · 2 years ago

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Infinity

11 | Distress

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x f!Reader

Going on a mission with Nanami after breaking things off with Gojo doesn't go according to plan.

words: 4362

cw: canon typical violence

“It’s a suspected Vengeful Spirit. The area has been evacuated and the site sealed off. All citizens within a 500 meter radius have been evacuated. According to our investigation, there are several smaller lower grade curses running amok, grouping together as well.”

“Typically a sorcerer on par with this level of curse would handle it, but since Gojo and Geto are away on business, we’ve been called in to investigate.” Nanami states, adjusting his glasses as Ijichi walks towards you.

“We are often short handed, as I’m sure you’ve been made aware at this point, so taking on missions beyond your expertise is not abnormal, however, there is a chance the potential Vengeful Spirit is Special Grade, so take care and good luck.”

Your lips form a thin line, having a bad feeling about what’s about to come next. You can’t quite place the feeling of uneasiness you have, though it could easily be attributed to multiple factors regarding the curse: the strength and the fact that it’s been capturing women and young girls without anyone having done anything about it up to this point.

On top of all that, you’ve had some heartburn about breaking things off with Satoru in the way that you did a few weeks ago, wondering if you look like a horrible person due to his kids being the straw that broke the camel's back.

It’s not really a problem that he has kids, it’s not something you ever really put thought into for yourself, never entertained the idea given your abilities and lack of being able to maintain a normal healthy relationship.

You groan to yourself and take a deep breath, wondering why you’re worrying about any of this anyway. It’s not like he has to tell you anything about his life, and the fact that you opened up to him is on you, he never forced you, so really, you shouldn’t have that expectation of him to do the same.

And because of that, there’s no real reason for him to tell you he has kids. It’s not like you’re dating and need to know the ins and outs of his life and what he does on his own time for the health of your relationship.

But still, as friends you would have appreciated knowing at least some things when it comes to him.

“Emerge from the darkness, blacker than darkness. Purify that which is impure.”

Ijichi lowering the veil around the abandoned subway station snaps you out of your thoughts, and you chew on the side of your cheek as you watch the cloak of darkness surround the street and nearest buildings to where you’re standing. Looking out of the curtain, the now familiar kaleidoscope effect impedes your view of seeing Ijichi and the car that brought you here.

Taking a deep breath, you turn and stand face to face with Nanami who’s adjusting his glasses, watching you intently.

“We believe the curse is the Vengeful Spirit of Reiko Kashima,” you nod your head, unsure of what that really means for you, “there have been several similar curses that have popped up over the years, based on fear of various tales of her. Though it appears this one could be the real deal.”

Nanami tells you there are numerous popular stories in which she is the main star, it depends on who is telling the story and where you are in the world that will determine which variation you hear. He isn’t sure of which one is true himself, but he does tell you the most popular version takes place after World War 2. Apparently American soldiers did unspeakable things to this girl, things Nanami refused to provide details for, but the end result was her throwing herself onto the track of an oncoming train, now taking the lives of others as her revenge.

“Your job during this mission is to go into the bathroom and wait. If this is the real spirit, she will appear to whoever is alone in one of the stalls. She will ask you a series of questions, if you answer any of them wrong, she will dismember you. Simple as that.”

“Great. No pressure at all. Love that for me.” You mutter under your breath, less than thrilled about being bait on a mission once again.

Nanami makes you go over the questions she’s been known to ask several times, phrasing them in different ways so as to not catch you off guard. When he’s convinced you have a handle on the answers he instructs you to text him, it doesn’t matter what it is, anything will do and he will come in and assist with fighting the curse.

Despite having both you and Nanami on the scene today, there are several other sorcerers with you, all of whom you’re unfamiliar with, and who Nanami instructs to go seek out the other lower level curses and exorcise them until the time comes to join up with the two of you.

“Why do we have to come here when Gojo or Geto should be the ones handling this?” One of the sorcerers whispers to another.

“It’s more of a matter of when someone would be able to make it out to handle this case,” Nanami interrupts their sly conversation, “Geto has been picking up more missions and hasn’t made it to this one yet, while Gojo has been taking the evenings off the last few months for personal reasons. Regardless, we are here now, so let’s get this over with.”

A wave of guilt washes over your body at Nanami’s words because the reason Satoru has been taking time off is because of you, and it’s clear the other sorcerers know that too, despite not voicing it, with the way they look over at you quickly before nodding their head to Nanami and moving on with their portion of the mission.

No matter the circumstance, whether it be directly from you or not, it seems people are still going to get hurt, an indirect result of your existence that makes your stomach sour.

Nanami looks you over before sighing quietly when he sees the way your shoulders sag slightly at his comment and their gaze, “he’s going to make his own choices. Try not to let that get you down.”

Pursing your lips into a thin line, you nod. He’s right, there isn’t a reason to let someone else's decisions bother you, especially now. Just like how you can’t expect Satoru to tell you all the aspects of his life, you can’t force him to do something he doesn’t want to do, after all.

Walking down the steps to access the subway lines, you’re met with a warped view of the terminals. The walls are covered in windows that are so dark and distorted you’re unable to see through them, not that they would have a view to anything aside from a brick wall down here anyway. There are doors hanging off ledges, in the middle of aisle ways, stairs leading up to the ceiling with nowhere to go beyond that.

“Interesting. This domain appears to be incomplete.” Nanami states looking around at the sight.

Complete or not, you know your mission so you begin opening each door you see, trying to find the one that leads to the restroom where you’re supposed to spend your evening as the other sorcerers frolic away to deal with the other curses hanging around.

Checking all of the doors that line the wall, you’re met with dead ends on each and everyone of them. You do eventually find the one you’re looking for, which leads to the bathroom. A door that is near the tracks of the train, not nestled into the wall to hold it up, just out in the open all on its own - perhaps it makes sense, based off the story Nanami told you earlier, and perhaps logically speaking, the lone door next to the tracks without a structure to support it should have been the one you checked first.

The bathroom is in immaculate condition, certainly not one you would expect from a subway terminal in the least, but the tile on the floor is shiny, and the sinks are pristine as you walk in. It doesn’t even smell, which is a blessing in and of itself.

Turning to Nanami you nod your head before closing the door behind you and making your way to one of the stalls. He didn’t specify if you need to pick any one of them in particular so you go into the middle one and lock the door behind you.

Unsure of really what to do with your time now, you sit on the toilet and cross your legs, bouncing the top one as you lean back and wait.

You contemplate texting Nanami to cure the boredom that washes over you, but ultimately decide against it. If he gets anything from you, he’s going to expect it to relate to the curse you’re waiting for, and if it’s anything other than that, he’ll be annoyed with you.

Texting him regardless would be such a Satoru thing to do too which makes you laugh quietly to yourself.

Thinking about Satoru causes the familiar twinge of hunger to present itself in the depths of your core. It’s been a few weeks since the two of you have been together, and you’re well aware that once you begin to feel the hunger, it will quickly get to the point where you’ll need to feed, no matter how long you try to stave it off.

He has tried to contact you several times to talk about why you left that day, says he wants to explain things, that finding the kids stuff isn’t what you’re assuming.

No matter what it was you assumed, there’s still other reasons why you walked away that day, reasons he’s yet to acknowledge.

You’ve been avoiding him, in the halls of the school, not answering his texts or calls, you’ve even managed to skirt your missions with him and accompany Nanami more, which is how you found yourself on this mission today. Of course, when you’re around him, you’re civil, you just do your best to cut any conversation short and make sure you don’t end up with him alone to where he can back you into a corner and make you talk before you’re ready.

You know you will end up going to him - you do have to feed to survive after all. You’re just not ready for that yet, but you’re quickly going to have to make peace with that soon.

Trilling your lips, you hum before standing, stretching out your muscles. Being in the bathroom is so incredibly boring. You should have brought some light reading material with you, anything really so you wouldn’t be waiting around thinking about Satoru so much.

Checking the time on your phone, it’s easily been 30 minutes without a damn thing happening. Of course with curses, there’s no guarantee when they’ll show up, so you’re really on it’s time rather than it being on yours.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are. Stupid curse.” You mutter to yourself. There are no instructions on how to draw the curse out - sometimes taunting them seems to work, at least for Satoru.

Lighting the display on your phone, you check the time once again, though it’s only been a few minutes since you had last checked, you decide to turn around, and get ready to sit on the floor with your back against the stall door, just to be in a different position than what you’ve been in for the last little while.

As soon as your back is facing the stall door you smell a mixture of rotting flesh, blood and burnt electronics. Similar to the curse Satoru first had you fight.

The hair on your body stands straight as a board, a shiver running down your spine at the overwhelmingly dark, sinister presence looming over your shoulder. It’s as if all the air around you has been sucked away, no longer able to breathe, no longer able to even think.

There’s a series of raspy groans behind you, but you don’t have the courage to even dare to turn around and face what’s behind you right now.

You decide at this moment you’re not cut out for this life, not cut out for being bait for missions and especially not curses. It’ll be easy for you to pack up your things and move, there’s nothing here really tying you down here anyway.

Even if the thought causes a lump to form in your throat, and tears to prick in the corner of your eyes.

You can’t bring yourself to look away from your phone, the time on the display staring back, but no longer comprehending what it says as the Vengeful Spirit of Reiko Kashima gasps. You should be texting Nanami right now, as you answer her questions, so he can come in and assist, but you’re unable to move, paralyzed with fear.

“Where are my legs?” She asks, voice strained, choppy and hoarse causing the hair on the back of your neck to rise.

“Shit, um,” you’re scrambling to remember the answers to her questions, wishing you had taken the time to write them down when Nanami reviewed them with you, but you didn’t expect her presence to be so overwhelming, “at Meishin Expressway?”

She hums, it’s a broken sound, mixed with a groan that makes your heart thump so erratically you wouldn’t be surprised if you could see the palpitations from your chest.

“Who told you that?”

Your stomach churns with fear, a sour feeling presenting itself that makes you queasy, palms beginning to sweat so you grip your phone a little tighter as you swallow thickly.

“Reiko Kashima did.” You manage to answer quietly, eyes glued to your phone lock screen reflecting back your image with pure terror in your eyes.

There’s a deep, labored breath from behind you, though you suppose that’s to be the case when you’re missing your entire lower half. What a poor gruesome life this curse lives.

“Give me your arms.” She states, and you briefly wonder why she would want them, when she already has her own.

“I-I’m still using them.”

You tick your head towards your shoulder - you could swear you felt her breath on your ear, a cold chill running from the top of your head to the tips of your toes. You have no idea where she is behind you, in the same stall or outside it, with the way her voice echoes off the wall, it’s hard to place.

Your phone dings, a text from Satoru appears on the display, the phone screen having locked several minutes prior when the curse appeared to you. Why couldn’t he have messaged you before the curse showed up? You probably would have given in and answered.

Satoru: I know you’re pissed but you need to feed soon.

“Give me your legs.” The curse croaks out.

“Um, no. I’m, uh, I’m still using- I still need those.” You correct the answer before finishing your sentence, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath trying to concentrate on the matter at hand.

But your mind is racing a thousand miles per second, about the curse seemingly behind you and what you’re supposed to say, and Satoru texting you. He knows you’re on a mission with Nanami because he wasn’t able to come do this one. Satoru has been so adamant you learn to deal with distractions, yet he’s clearly never thought of himself as one.

“What’s my name?” Your phone dings again with another message from Satoru, and had you been paying attention, you would have heard the slight snicker in the curses voice.

Satoru: We don’t have to talk about anything if you’re not up for it yet. Just let me help with what I can.

“Reiko Kashima.” Your eyes widen at your answer, “No nonononono, I mean, the masked demon of death-”

It’s too late because you’re being hurled into and through the brick wall of the bathroom stall in front of you with a nauseatingly intense force that has your head throbbing when you finally hit another wall on the opposite side of the subway station, coming to a complete stop.

You gasp when the wind is knocked out of your lungs on impact and there’s a searing, shooting pain on the left side of your body followed by the feeling of warm liquid pooling and dripping down your arm, chest and stomach.

Your head bobs, eyes half lidded, you don’t bother looking down to see what’s impaled you, certainly not a sight you want to see, should it be your last.

It’s hard to focus, eyesight foggy, brain hazy, unable to move. There’s a ringing in your ear, and you think maybe you can hear your name being called, but you can’t be quite sure.

You try to take a breath, but your lungs feel heavy and full, and the pain to your left shoots through your body once again. So you take low shallow breaths instead.

There’s a figure in front of you. A girl with long, stringy black hair that looks like she just crawled out of a well, no legs, wide eyes and a grin that’s too large for her face, looking like the sides have been cut up to her cheek, crawling towards you. Arms resembling a spider, too long for the rest of her half body and looking like one moves her limbs to inch closer and closer to you.

It’s hard to concentrate on that, knowing this is the end, so you lay your head back against the wall as it all fades to black.

Nanami stands with his back pressed against the wall, opposite of the door you walked through, waiting on your text to signal him to enter the room. It’s taking longer than anticipated which is disheartening.

So much for a long, relaxing evening at home.

He debates grabbing his phone to check his notifications, confirming he hasn’t missed anything coming in from you. Normally not one to worry about checking his devices frequently and just waiting for the vibrate of his phone in his pocket, but with you it’s different.

Because he knows Gojo would burn the world to ash if anything ever happened to you.

Clenching his jaw, he folds his arms and leans back against the wall, closing his eyes, there’s no point in checking for a notification when he knows nothing has come in from you yet anyway.

As soon as his eyes close an ear splitting scream can be heard to the right before the wall down the hall bursts open with you flying through it, the wall crumbling and falling down. He uses his elbow to shield his nose and mouth waiting for the dust to settle. He hears the moment you make impact with the wall that stops your momentum, the crack of bones breaking due to the force.

A sickening cackle can be heard before a girl with long legs comes crawling out of the hole it created. Without wasting any time, Nanami wraps his tie around his hand, grabbing his blade from the holster on his back and pushing the curse back several feet with his cursed technique.

It’s definitely Special Grade, and he won't be able to kill it himself, due to lack of time, needing to check to see if you’re still alive, and he will need the other sorcerers to come back and assist before any real damage can be done. It shouldn’t take them long, they will have heard the explosion from the wall and will make their way back to assist at any moment.

For now, the curse is pushed back enough, that without its legs it will take some time to crawl and make its way back over to where you are, even with its extraordinarily long arms.

Taking a deep breath, Nanami puts his blade away before rushing over to where you finally stopped, seeing the bruises that are already blooming on your skin, your uniform tattered and ripped. There are pipes impaling several parts of your body, a strong scent of copper filling the air with the blood that seeps out from the wounds.

As he makes his way over to you, he sees the way you roll your head, body twitching a few times but he’s unsure if you’re still alive or if these are your final moments, either way, his hand is already in his pocket, pulling out his phone to reach out to Gojo for assistance.

“Hey, Nanamin~” Gojo sings as he picks up the phone. There’s some static on the other end, indicating he’s either in a cave or in the process of fighting a few curses. Either are likely knowing him.

Nanami says your name slowly, with a deep sigh at the end, catching Gojo’s attention. “She’s hurt. Severely. I thought you should know since- well, you know her abilities better than anyone else.”

“Call Shoko. I’m on my way.”

Nanami adjusts his glasses, staring at the sight before him as he places his phone back in his pocket. He needs to check your pulse before calling Shoko, he’s nothing, if not prepared, even in a crisis. This is certainly information she’ll need to know.

Moving towards your limp body, impaled by several jagged metal pipes starting at your shoulder, down to the side of your stomach and even one through your thigh, Nanami sighs.

Just as he reaches his hand out for your neck, to check your pulse point, you stir, adjusting slightly, but unable to move much due to the objects you’re impaled on. When his fingers make contact with your neck, your eyes flutter open slowly, glassy, unfocused, rasping out his name as well as you can.

You’re alive. For now at least.

“Try not to move. I’ve called Gojo, and I’m getting ready to call Shoko.” Nanami states, retracting his hand to pull his phone from his pocket once again.

You groan, reaching forward, grabbing him by his shirt, using it to pull yourself out and away from the wall. Nanami places his hands gently on your hips, away from any of the visible cuts, wounds and gashes he can see, holding you still.

“You need to stay in place. Those could be keeping you alive-”

You pull yourself towards him with a grimace and a loud groan from the pain, no longer attached to the wall, but most definitely bleeding out. As each wound begins oozing out blood, your lips attach to his.

He knows of your abilities, how you survive, how you heal from Satoru’s too detailed reports.

What he didn’t expect was how soft and plush your lips would be, moving them against his, your tongue gliding against his, the soft whimpers and groans you make as you pull your body in closer to his, staining his clothes with your blood.

Nanami gasps, eyes wide staring at you through his glasses, when you move a hand to his hair, gripping as tight as you’re able before pulling away.

Satoru arrives within a few minutes of hanging up the phone with Nanami, witnessing a sight he wasn’t expecting.

First, the curse is still alive crawling in your direction. It looks over at him and shrieks before trying to scramble back into the hole it just appeared from. In no mood to play, Satoru sends a wave of his cursed energy at it, easily ripping it to shreds, hearing its wails as it burns and dissipates into nothingness.

Your clothes are tattered, ripped and bloodied, but your lips are also latched to Nanami’s while his large hands are cemented on your hips, gripping at your waist.

Not even trying to move you away.

Satoru feathers his jaw as he watches you pull away, draining Nanami in the process, the familiar trail of energy leaving Nanami’s body and entering your own. Which Satoru had been on the receiving end of for months.

He’s all too familiar with this, as he stands off to the side, watching you kiss another one of his friends, use your abilities on another person he’s close to. Neither of you move away as your lips slot together so easily once again.

Almost as if this isn’t the first time.

And you don’t stop with Satoru’s arrival. As far as the two of you seem to be concerned, he might as well not be standing there watching what’s happening at the moment.

Satoru watches intently, eyes flickering over you and Nanami as quickly as he possibly can. You still have scraps, bruises, open wounds littering your body despite the amount you're siphoning - whatever happened, your internal wounds must be extensive if it’s taking this long for you to heal.

Nanami on the other hand looks more and more tired by the second, slouching into your touch as you continue to pull from him - too much, Satoru determines. You’re taking too much and he knew this would happen eventually, tried to tell you, but you wouldn’t listen.

Satoru’s by your side in a matter of seconds, grabbing your hand from Nanami’s shirt and gently loosening your grip. Once he’s successfully wrestled your hand from Nanami’s blonde locks, Satoru pulls you into his chest.

Nanami stumbles backwards with a few jagged coughs, breathing deeply several times trying to catch his breath as he rests his hands on his knees.

“Just worry about her.” Nanami rasps before collapsing to the ground in exhaustion, “I’ll get to Shoko soon.”

Satoru’s eyes flicker over your face, you’re really in no state to try and heal yourself, even if he were to take Nanami’s place, it could be detrimental to him as well, since this is uncharted territory, even for you.

Your brows furrow, eyes adjust and try to refocus but it’s no use, like you want to say something to Satoru, but instead, your eyes roll to the back of your head before collapsing into his arms.

taglist: @q-the-rockaholic @greenlovers @naorizenin @a1hina @plants-w0rld @patat-boi @rlvslouis @littledemoness15 @thisbicc @nothisispatrick300 @km7474 @missyasma @hecatesflames @arisucat @creolequeen11210 @imperatorkhaleesi @xiaosie @mykyoon @the-loneliest-girl @violetsapplejuice

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demi-sev · 1 year ago

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Day 13/31: "Teke-Teke"

This here’s another urban legend of a young schoolgirl (allegedly named Kashima Reiko) that became an Onryō (a vengeful spirit) after being killed when falling onto the railway and being sliced in half by a train…

According to the legend, it’s been said that she would skulk around urban areas at night with a scyth in her hand, particularly around train stations. Looking for anyone to cut off their lower half as to either replace her own, or worse yet, to make them just look just like her…

Now you probably wondering. How does she get her way around, when she has no legs at all? To put it very simply, she drags herself along with her arms. Because of the sound she makes when dragging herself, she was given the name "Teke-Teke"…

Source:

- https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Teke_Teke

#my art #demisevarts #inktober #inktober 2023 #Teke-Teke #Teke Teke #for you #for you page #fyp

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thelegendsledger · 5 months ago

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ᴛʜᴇ ɢʜᴏᴜʟɪꜱʜ ᴍʏᴛʜ ᴏꜰ ᴛᴇᴋᴇ-ᴛᴇᴋᴇ: ᴊᴀᴘᴀɴ’ꜱ ᴏɴʀʏŌ ᴡʜᴏ ᴇᴄʜᴏᴇꜱ ᴠᴇɴɢᴇᴀɴᴄᴇ

When we step into the domain of Japan, we can experience how modernity aligns with ancient cultures. It is what makes Japan a vibrant and colorful city with the most jaw-dropping landscapes along with the rich history that follows this country. But what we fail to see is the eerie folklores and gruesome urban legends that lie buried beneath the art of Japan. If we delve deeper, we can uncover that these legends are the primal fear of the locals, and perhaps some tourists. These tales are whispered down from generations to generations to ignite the flame of fear which spreads like a wildfire among the society.

So join me as we venture through the story of Teke-Teke, a vengeful spirit who haunts the streets of Japan hoping to seize her thirst for revenge on those who had wronged her.

The legend of Teke-Teke has lots of variations but commonly she was once a young woman. One variation of this legend happened a few years after World War 2. It is the story of an office woman from Muroran, Hokkaido named Kashima Reiko who was abused and beaten horribly by a group of military men before they had left her to perish. Desperate for help, she called out yet her calls were not heard. So she took the drastic measure to crawl and find her savior - only for her to fall onto a railway track before a train sliced her into two, separating her upper half and lower half. The other adaptation of this legend begins with a young girl who was mistreated by her new classmates and pushed onto a railway track, and before she could escape the oncoming train; her body was severed at the waist.

The actual horrifying element of this legend is that Teke-Teke’s spirit was not able to rest due to the hate and ill-treatment that she had received. Therefore, she transformed to an onryo so that she could get her fair-share of revenge, although in an unfashioned manner.

Across Japan, Teke-Teke is presented as a young woman with long black hair who appears to not have a lower half. Instead of fingernails, she has sharp claws which allows her to drag her mutilated body. Her name derives from the sound she makes while crawling, which obviously is “Teke-Teke”. It is said that she wanders around holding a sharp object which seems similar to a scythe.

People have rumored that Teke-Teke usually lurks in deserted urban areas or in quiet train stations at night. Once she has spotted her potential victim, she charges at them at an alarming speed of 150 km/h with the help of her elbows and claws.

The ghastly part of the story occurs when Teke-Teke does indeed catch her prey. Once caught in her grasp, Teke-Teke will slice her victim in half at the waist, condemning them to the same fate she had once suffered.

If you believe that you might have a chance of surviving Teke-Teke… forget about it. There is no chance. With her speed, she would be able to pounce on you before you even have the time to react. So scratch out ‘surviving Teke-Teke’ from your bucket list.

As with many urban legends, the story of Teke-Teke has several variations, each adding its unique twist to the terrifying tale. In some versions, she asks her victims a riddle before attacking. If they answer incorrectly, she kills them immediately. Additionally, another alteration is included in her motive. Though most say her reason for killings are due to revenge, there are some who say she does not kill as she is wandering around in hopes of finding her legs. There is also another motive, that she kills so that people who bully or abuse others, stop doing so because of the fear evoked by her.

While the legend of Teke-Teke may live on for generations, this blog will not, so let me draw this journey to an end. We know that Teke-Teke is an echo of the urban legends that spreads in Japan, but this legend is more than just a scary, spine-chilling tattle tale. This legend serves as a reminder of the vile consequences of the society’s cruelty and neglect. Furthermore, this legend, like any other urban legends, acts as a portal to the not-so-colorful folktales of Japan as an escape to all the cute, Hayao Miyazaki film-like aesthetic of the country. Now, I believe, is the correct way to part ways, so until next time!

…

My deepest apologies as I had forgotten to mention earlier that this legend concludes that if you hear the story of Teke-Teke, you are sure to see the ghost of a woman without her legs at night after three days of discovering her tale… Well then, that being said, stay safe, stay cautious, definitely DO NOT go to abandoned areas or train stations and good luck to you in case you do see the onryo.

#⤹ The Ledger of Lore ⊹#urban legends

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blastymcsplodo · 4 days ago

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#dandadan #ken takakura #momo ayase #reiko kashima #dandadan spoilers #my post

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gelu-the-babosa-multiversal · 15 days ago

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Look, guys... I had a vision!

#my art #my stuff #sketch #digital art #art #look at them trying their best #or just not trying #dandadan #ddd #dan da dan #reiko kashima #rokuro serpo #serpo #serpo rokuro #kashima reiko #ship #crack ship #rarepair

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sideblog-usernametaken · 7 days ago

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Before I get into the rest of what I have to say I want to address this:

The "All the aliens just look like humans" critique is generally very accurate. However, Vamola is a very particular case that involes spoilers so I'll put the explanation under a Read More:

Vamola is the only alien that looks human because she basically is human. Her species has a common ancestor with humans on Earth. It's not clear is Sumer (Her home planet) or Earth was a colony, but there was a point in time where the two planets were in constant contact and had shared cultures (Hence why Earth had a Sumer way back when). They were so intrinsically linked that Sumer considered Earth "another homeworld", so it makes perfect sense that Sumerians and Earth Humans look almost exactly the same because they are essentially the same species!

This isn't just an offhand lore thing either, it's the entire reason Vamola was sent to Earth specifically instead of literally anywhere else. Her plot line would be dramatically different if this were the case.

So yes, Vamola should look like a human. You can argue that she should look like a different human than she does, but she still should look like a human.

(Also I do want to briefly touch on how the whole "Aliens built the pyramids!" idea is pretty racist. I'm willing to let Dandadan get away with it though because the way they present it is that either humans built intergalactic space travel on their own, or all humans are descendants from the aliens that built the pyramids. So it's not coming from the angle of "Ancient humans were too stupid to build this" but instead going for "Humans used to have really cool technology but we forgot how to make/use it" which that as a concept has been around since ancient greece [The myth of Atlantis was likely inspired by an actual volcanic eruption that took out an island that had a city state with reasonable advancements for the time].)

Now on to OP: While their argument is not entirely wrong I do have some thoughts about how OP decided to present it.

First, why focus on the skin tone of all the reoccurring female human cast? It implies the guys get more diversity in that regard, and they don't. Almost all the human characters get pretty much the same skin tones, so it feels weird that you only point this out for the girls and not the guys. Especially if we're just going by "Reoccuring Characters" and not the core main cast, because Momo has friends who pop up from time to time and one of them is (I'm pretty sure) the only dark skinned human character in the series.

I get that you're trying to argue that the series is aiming for a "pretty white girl" stereotype with its human characters, but every human character is Japanese. Vamola could arguably be white-washed because she's supposed to be of Sumerian decent and Sumer was in Mesopotamia, but even then that's a bit shaky because it's been thousands of years and if they grew antennae then it's reasonable to assume that something like skin tone could've changed too (Also Vamola was introduced destroying a city and was later thought to be a spy for genocidal aliens. So making her the only main character with a significantly different human skin tone would've looked incredibly racist until her backstory reveal, which came significantly later).

Second, just kind of blatantly leaving out characters? Like, if you're going to include the male anatomical model you have to include the female one, especially since she's even more distinct because she doesn't have any limbs. They have roughly the same amount of screentime too, she even pops up in scenes without him. Your point would be stronger if you left both of them out because while they're both technically "reoccurring" neither of them have really shown up since the Evil Eye arc. And if we're including characters who haven't shown up outside their main arcs but could theoretically pop up again, then you have to include Reiko Kashima (Actual Chekhov's Gun at the moment) and the gang of Grandma's who raised Vamola (We've explicitly been told they're alive and making their way to Earth). On the topic of the Grandma Gang, Vamola isn't the only female alien we see! You just made that up! We get four named female alien characters aside from Vamola and at least a dozen unnamed female background aliens! All of them are old ladies who are drawn with wrinkles and distinctive haircuts and facial features! Not to mention if you're going to bring up Rin you should also bring up Kawabanga who's a small flying turtle headed spirit who can turn into a microphone. She's right there and she shows up whenever Rin does now.

(All that being said I'm not blaming you for not including Kouki because she's new and we don't know if she'll join the main cast yet. I'm surprised you didn't add her though because she'd also be a "pale thin girl" with the only thing setting her apart being that she's taller than average and has a "creepy girl" trope. Oh, and she's had no real interaction with Okarun so far and it doesn't seem like she's being set up to be "into him" which I guess ruins your bit.)

Like, are most of the female characters you are bringing up kind of samey? Yes and that's a fair critique. However, you're using different criteria for the male and female character lists. The point is much better made if you just stick to the human and human adjacent characters because the non-human female characters get more variety.

Lastly, you're not accurately potraying the romantic aspect of these characters. Okarun is into Momo. Jiji is into Momo. Kinta is into Momo. Zuma was almost into Momo for a bit. This isn't a one way "All these girls are attracted to the same guy!" kind of story it's a romance between two characters and each of them get romantic rivals.

Aira and Jiji are hitting on Okarun and Momo (Although Jiji is more odd about it so alot of it just comes across as random gags [Which he also does] instead of flirting) and neither of them are particularly successful. They're both meant to fill the "main romantic rival" niche to show you the main characters are actively choosing to be together. Momo and Okarun aren't particularly popular, Okarun's been a social pariah most of his life and most of the guys at school believe some nasty rumors about Momo. Without showing you that there are other people intrested in them, it can come off as the two either taking what they can get (Not romantic) or a "let's be alone together" vibe that the series is explicitly the opposite of.

Vamola and Zuma are both "attracted" to Okarun and Momo out of a one sided misunderstanding, and after that point there's essentially no romantic tension at all. Zuma thinks Momo is into him because she was talking in her sleep about Okarun, and because he's not used to that he tries to pull a romantic moment in his Yokai Form (Side note: You also completely ignored Yokai Forms). Vamola doesn't know what actual romance is and took a guess based on the information she had available to her. After these misunderstandings are cleared up (Momo openly rejects Zuma and Vamola sees that all of her new friends are stong so she obviously needs to figure out what her actual romantic criteria are) there's no more one sided romantic tension. None. We haven't seen much of Zuma since his debut arc, but from what we see of Vamola she's not specifically attached to Okarun over anyone else in the friend group anymore. She's picked up his vocal habits (And arguably she's copying Jiji way more now than she ever copied Okarun) but he and Momo are the only ones trying to teach her Japanese without trying to teach her to swear or make jokes.

Rin and Kinta also share the same niche but no one's willing to say that out loud. If you're trying to argue that Kinta's attraction to Momo doesn't count because he's a pervert character stereotype (Which honestly? He's more of a loser/"Nice Guy"/incel stereotype. His whole "saucy language" bit is canonically an intentional and active change in his behavior to try to get a girlfriend and not just how he normally talks/thinks. That's just directly stated in his introductory chapter too it isn't even subtext or word of author type stuff) then Rin also shouldn't count because she's a Girl Who's Too Into Vampire Romances trope. If you argue that she was legitimately into Okarun then by that same logic she was legitimately into Turbo Granny because they pull literally the exact same gag twice with these characters. And just like Vamola and Zuma, Rin and Kinta drop the "attracted to a main character" bit pretty quickly as Kinta moves on to Vamola almost immediately and Rin loses all interest in Okarun after finding out he's not a vampire.

Also are you really going to boil Momo down a "Girl who is attracted to Okarun"? She's the main character of the series! She has like 80% of the coolest battle moments, she's the sole reason anyone survives an alien attack half the time, she's good at making plans, she has enough self confidence to be unbothered by what strangers think of her, and she has enough self respect to not let people just talk smack to her face or force her to do anything she doesn't want to. And that's just surface level stuff with her character too. Heck, all of the female characters have way more going on than their romantic interests you just only bring up the guys' deals. Aira is a walking Hero Complex learning that not everything is about her. Vamola survived a genocide and carries more grief than the rest of the cast combined. Rin has a strong sense of responsibility and a deep level of caring, to the point that as a child she would give up on things that made her happy then proceed to act like nothing's wrong so her family wouldn't have a harder time than they already did. Seiko is an incredibly generous person who will help people out in whatever way she can with basically no judgement and minimal questions, and she insists on the people she helps paying it forward so more people get help. Turbo Granny is a bundle of egotistical self contradictions who's rediscovering family and friendship.

Essentially you're basing the female character descriptions on extremely shallow takes of their characters which ignores any of their unique personality traits. Like, at least for the guys you tried to come up with what trope they represent or something related to their abilities. With the girls you literally only look at their physical appearance and who they're attracted to. I get that your point is the physical character design, but you also decided to tack on critique of the character writing itself and on that front you're just incorrect.

(Last side note for this section: In general the girls get more focus and attention for their backstories too. We get something about each girl's home life, even Kawabanga despite not really needing it. Meanwhile we legitimately don't know if Okarun has parents. The only male character who gets a backstory like the female characters is Zuma. Jiji and Mr. Shrimp get some level of explanation, but the rest of them fit into "They haven't bothered to explain" or "They're just like that, no further explanation needed".)

Look, I get your point and on some level I do agree with it. The human female characters in Dandadan could use more variation in their character designs like what the guys get. But you can't just cherry pick examples, cherry pick what you say about those examples, and then ignore the fact that at its core Dandadan is a Romcom. That last part is a big issue too because you're acting like an intentional use genre convention is a sexist writing flaw instead of something legitimately important to the series.

I do like dandadan but I also fear it is one of the most egregious examples of this trope in recent mainstream manga lol