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luxaofhesperides · 4 months ago

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the beginning - danny

The Lazarus Pit brings Danny back.

The child who went into them, however, is gone forever.

Danyal al Ghul is the soul who should reside in this body. Danyal has a life still to live and Danny died ages ago, old and surrounded by loved ones, ready to spend the rest of his forever in the Infinite Realms.

Something's gone terrible wrong, he thinks rather wryly, squinting through the cold green water that surrounds him. An ache echoes through his body and he brings a hand—small, a child's hand that shouldn't belong to him— to his stomach, where he can feel a large wound slowly pull itself together.

Did I get stabbed?

He means to continue the thought, but a sharp pain hits his head, making him curl up. He gasps and air bursts from his lungs, water rushing to fill in the empty space. Danny chokes, panicking, as memories slide into place, the lives of Danyal al Ghul and Danny Fenton fighting for dominance in his head. His lungs burn, throat working futilely to push water out, but there's nothing to be done.

Danny is a child again, and just like last time, he dies young.

1. So.

Assassins.

Danny honestly can't tell if this is a step up or a step down from mad scientist parents. On the one hand: he knows they loved him, as clumsy as it was, even though they loved their work more. On the other hand: assassin cult sounds like something out of a fairy tale, and while cool, is definitely not safe for kids.

And Danny, somehow, is a child again.

This really wasn't what he expected when he woke up on the sandy bottom of the pit. He's in ghost form, which is an unpleasant shock, but at least its familiar.

He is also, if his memory as Danyal serves him correctly, nine years old.

Kinda sucks that he died so young this time round. Didn't even make it to the double digits before he was taken out of the running.

He can't remember what it was like being so small in his last life. He can't imagine how anyone would look at a child and run them through with a sword. It's a cruel world he's woken up in. It's made worse by the fact that he's alone.

At least being down here without needing to breathe is giving him valuable time to think.

Danny has lived a full life already. He didn't really need or want another one, content to be a full ghost in the Infinite Realms. But going back isn't really an option, now that he's in a new body. The kid he could have been deserves to live fully, and the least Danny can do is live that life for them.

It'll be hard, but Danny's sure he can manage a decent life for himself.

Being presumed dead will make his escape from the assassins easier, though he'll miss getting the chance to meet his new mother; assassin as she is, Danyal knows her not by her blades but by her soft lullabies and jasmine-scented hair. The loss of her child must be hurting her deeply, but it's necessary. If Danny wants any semblance of a normal life, he has to leave her behind.

Besides, he's seen enough death. He doesn't want to ever be the cause of it.

So, he needs a plan for this new life.

Step one: get out of dodge.

The rest he'll figure out on the way.

Turns out assassins weren't the most shocking thing in this new life.

No, that honor goes to superheroes.

Genuine, honest to God superheroes! With powers and everything!

To think that Danny once called himself a superhero. Ha! As if! He's nothing compared to the likes of Superman or the Flash or even Green Lantern. They're in another league. Literally. They're part of the Justice League, which has a whole slew of other heroes, and Danny is possibly their biggest fan.

Not like that's weird; most people in this world are huge fans of superheroes. Makes sense, since they're the ones who rely on their protection the most.

It does suck to know that his background belongs to that of a villain. Assassins aren't known for saving people, after all.

Part of him contemplates becoming a hero again, taking up the role of Phantom and joining the ranks of Superman. But he's had many years to come to terms with the loss of his teenage years and the bitterness that came with it. That experience, that life once lived, helps him decide each time that being a civilian is the gift this life owes him.

At thirteen, Danny lives in a foster home with six other kids. He's the oldest and has his hands full taking care of everyone else while their foster parents work three jobs between them to keep them all afloat.

When his younger siblings play superheroes, he gladly takes the role of the villain, swooping in with a blanket to kidnap away an innocent bystander that has to be rescued. He falls over dramatically at the end of each fight and praises his siblings' strength and teamwork, making them puff up with pride.

It's all fun and games so long as it only stays fun and games.

Superpowers are cool and all, but his came at the cost of his life, his health, his future. He knows, better than anyone, the price of being a hero. He knows that even Superman carries heavy losses on his shoulders, struggles under burdens no one can see.

He's lucky that the small town he ended up in—Luray, Virginia—has no heroes or villains. Too small a place to be on anyone's radar, apparently.

His classmates often complain about how they wish they could live in a big city where there's more to do, more to see, superheroes flying through the streets to protect them.

Danny is happy where he is. It's quiet, and small, and nothing like what he's used to, but it's safe.

That's all he really wants.

Here's something that stays the same no matter what world he's in: Danny is a magnet for trouble.

If the trouble stopped at bullies, everything would have been fine. Danny could handle Dash, and he could handle Justin just as easily.

But the universe loves to escalate with Danny, specifically, which is why Danny had to reveal his powers when some villain-wannabe school shooter attacked his high school.

And to think he felt bad for Jackson when he didn't make it onto the track team.

Luray does not have a meta population. They're too small to have much of a population at all, and much of it is white which made him, half-Iranian, stand out even before he threw out a barrier of ice to protect his classmates a second before the gunfire began.

"Danny?!" his seatmate, Clarrissa, cries out in alarm.

"Everyone get out the window and run for it!" he orders, "I hold him back as much as I can!"

"You can't stay here!"

"Don't worry," Danny says, offering her a tight smile. "He couldn't kill me even if he tried. Now go!"

His classmates hadn't wasted any more time, sending him shocked looks as they escaped the classroom. A glimpse of his reflection in the window revealed glowing green eyes and blue mist wafting out of his mouth.

Looks like his time in Luray is up. He hopes his foster siblings won't be too mad at him for running away.

The gunfire stops, and Danny takes his chance to leap through his ice, intangible, and tackle Jackson, easily knocking the gun away from him.

"Monster!" Jackson spits at him, and Danny laughs.

"Bold of you to say that. I'm not to one trying to kill people."

He doesn't want to hear anything else that comes out of Jackson's mouth, so he knocks the guy out with a solid hit to a pressure point on his neck. Hopefully that'll keep him down long enough for the cops to get him.

Danny stands and means to leave, but something hits the back of his head hard and he's out before he realizes what's happened.

When he wakes up, he's strapped down to a table in what is undeniably a lab, and sighs.

At least he made it to sixteen before he went into another lab. Maybe in his next life he might even get all the way up to twenty before he's pulled back down here.

4. Though he has all his powers and a ghost form, that doesn't mean he is a ghost in this life.

No, he's fully a meta, which means meta-suppressing cuffs work on him.

It's not exactly a discovery he was hoping to have while locked up in a lab, but it's what he's got, so he has to roll with it. The cuffs are heavy on his wrists and around his throat, keeping him from escaping as a group of people in masks and lab coats bustle around, ignoring him.

His head is still foggy, though likely more from the drugs than the hit he took to his head.

He doesn't bothering talking to any of them; they don't see him as human, and Danny's dealt with enough of that in his past life.

Mad scientists love to talk though, so he still hears the gist of their plans: recreating the meta gene for normal people, making a profit from selling powers, getting rich and famous from their accomplishments. They had been using Jackson to get corpses for human testing, but they got Danny instead — someone they can harvest bio material for, a much better find than a couple dead kids.

If he had the energy to rage, Danny would have killed everyone in the room already. They planned to kill his classmates just for test subjects.

He doesn't want to be an assassin, but he'd gladly lean into those old lessons to make sure they never hurt anyone again.

But the cuffs and drugs do a good job of keeping him docile, barely able to think, as they transport him around to different locations and cut him open.

He's not sure how long it's been when they ease up on the drugs a bit. It still takes time for his body to work through everything, and he comes too with a throat that's dry and a stomach that hasn't had anything in it for quite some time.

The first thing Danny does when they start asking him questions is throw up on them.

If they wanted cooperation, they should have treated him better. This is fully on them.

It makes for a convincing argument for food and water and a bathroom break, at least, so he gets what he demands and takes care of his human body under the cold gazes of three scientists.

"You guys suck," he says conversationally. "Keeping test subjects alive is like basic knowledge. No wonder y'all suck at your jobs."

"Your comments aren't needed," one of the scientists says primly. "Get up. We need to study how using your powers affects your body."

They hook a bunch of different things onto him, then lock him in a glass cage and use the cuff around his throat to send jolts of electricity through him when he doesn't do anything. He throws a chunk of ice at them, watching as it breaks apart into small pieces when it hits the glass. The scientists scribble in their notepads, and when they look at him again, he flips them off.

He gets shocked again, but it's worth it.

The process repeats for another few hours, then he's pulled out of the cage, gets an IV stuck in his arm, and drops off into drugged oblivion before he has time to start throwing hands.

It must have been months. Danny's not sure; it's hard to keep track of time when locked in isolation.

He knows he's fed at least once a day. He's been getting a tray of bland food at random times, but he's counted over 50 trays sliding through the little slot on the bottom of his cell door.

Turns out insulting scientists and their procedures is a bad idea, especially when he has the language to really bruise their egos.

So.

Isolation sucks.

But at least they don't drug him anymore!

The cuffs do their job of keeping him in place, and if he didn't have memories of another life to keep him company, he definitely would have lost his mind long ago.

There's other people in here, other metas. He's heard them screaming and begging for mercy. He's heard them go chillingly quiet. He wonders why there are so many superheroes in this world when not a single one has come to save them.

Surely at least one would notice metas disappearing and would investigate?

But no.

No one ever comes to save them.

So Danny needs to figure out a way past the cuffs, and then he can be Phantom again long enough to free the other metas and make every scientist involve pay for their crimes.

He just needs to wait.

He just needs—

When Danny wakes up, the alarms are ringing. It makes his head pound, throbbing with each piercing sound.

He stumbles up, using the wall to keep his balance, and freezes when he sees that the door to his cell is open.

…Huh.

The hallway is bathed in red light when he steps out. No one's around. He wanders around the facility, searching for answers and only finds more questions.

There are other cells, also empty. Certain rooms have blood splattered across the walls and the floor, but no bodies. Labs are destroyed, broken glass on the floor. But every room is empty.

He wanders until he finds what must be a security room. There's a strange device dangling off a keychain on a rack, and Danny eyes it curiously. He runs his fingers around the cuff on his throat, feels the little depression where the collar comes together, and takes the rounded device. If it doesn't work, then it doesn't work.

But if it does work…

The cuff pops open easily, as if it hasn't been his greatest foe these past few months.

All at once, his strength returns to him. He has forgotten what it was like to breathe easily, to feel his powers come to his call so easily, to be reassured that he can take care of himself.

It's almost like coming back to life.

He transforms, settling back into his ghost form with relief, and flies through the facility in search of any other metas that may need help. He finds no one, but he does catch a glimpse of the outside.

The sky is so blue it almost hurts to look at. Part of the facility has been blown apart; rubble surrounds the place and the surrounding forest has been flattened. It looks as though a fight has moved through the area.

Maybe a superhero did come to save them? Rude of them to leave only Danny, though.

He continues his search, poking his head into different rooms and hallways. He finds a staircase going down and follows it into the basement. More labs greet him, and the glow of computers and strange vials of liquid leave him unsettled.

There's a green glow coming around the corner than reminds him of the Lazarus Pit he flew out of, once upon a time many years ago, and that's what draws him forward.

Tucked away in that familiar glow is a small body, floating in a tube of liquid. There's an oxygen mask attached to her face, but that doesn't stop Danny from recognizing her.

"Ellie?"

Just like in one life, Danny is cloned. The difference is that this time, there's no reason for it, no insane godfather trying to recreate a version of him that will choose him.

No, this time it's from a group of scientists who should have known better, who decided to mess around with his genes, and brought his once little sister now daughter into such a cruel, dangerous world.

Danny barely remembers breaking the glass to get her out of there. He doesn't know where he found the coat to bundle her up in, flying out of the facility as fast as he could. He feels sick, knowing it's his fault that she's here now, forced into a painful, terrifying existence because he wasn't strong enough to save himself.

He's a runaway meta victim of mad science. He can't take care of her.

"I'm sorry, Ellie," he whispers to her, pressing a kiss against her head. "I'm so sorry."

She small in his arms. She barely weighs anything.

Danny blinks back tears and tries to find some place he can stop and rest, somewhere safe he can gather his thoughts and figure out his next steps.

This isn't like when he first woke up in this world, with both sets of memories.

This is Ellie.

She deserves more than just a wish and a half-baked plan for a better life.

She deserves a family that wants her, that can care for her, that can protect her. She deserves to grow up normally and not worry about destabalizing or being a replacement for him or being hunted down.

She deserves one life to be a kid and grow up safe and be whoever she wants to be.

Danny will never be able to give her that.

But maybe he can give her to someone who can.

Danyal grew up with an assassin mother and a cruel grandfather who expected far too much from a child. He was taught to kill and be more weapon than child. He was taught the world was something for him to take, to protect, to water with blood.

Danyal was meant to be the next Demon Head, and the next Bat.

Danny knows he can't go to his mother. If they're both lucky, he will never have to see her again. Knowing his luck, he's already planning explanations for why he never went back to her.

Danny's father, on the other hand…

It didn't take much to put the pieces together. The notorious Bat is Batman, Gotham's vigilante and one of the founders of the Justice League. While a child would have been left confused by the many comments his mother made about his father, it was simple enough for Danny to line them up with what he learned about the heroes of this world and realize, oh, that's my dad.

It takes a few weeks of research, using public libraries with Ellie tucked securely in a wrap to his chest, but he's able to learn more about Batman.

The most important thing being that he has kids.

Of course, none of this is officially acknowledged, but everyone knows that the Robins are his kids. Current Robin, especially, likes to remind people that he's 'the son of Batman'.

Okay. Cool.

Danny has siblings.

Awesome.

He's… not looking forward to those conversations.

At least it means more people to look after Ellie. Assuming they take her in, which Danny's really hoping for.

But it's the best he can do, so Danny sets course for Gotham and hopes that just this once, everything will work out.

Meeting the Bats of Gotham is a lot harder than he expected.

A week in the city and he's barely caught more than a glimpse of them. He can't dedicate a lot of time to tracking them down either, needing to break into grocery stores to get food for him and Ellie.

She's so quiet as a baby, and it terrifies him. She's only cried twice the entire time he's had her, and Danny spends every day begging her to hold on.

Time during the day is spent catching naps and researching common vigilante spotting areas in Gotham. He's got a map of Gotham taken from a library and has been steadily marking it up, putting stars in the best places to find a Bat. There are places all over the city, and Danny has no idea how to know which ones are the best.

The only thing he can do is wait at a different rooftop each night, clinging to Ellie, wondering if this is the last night he has with her.

On the ninth night, someone finally arrives.

"Step away from the edge," a voice demands.

Danny turns to see Robin approaching, hands held out as if to catch him. He's bigger than Danny was expecting. Which makes sense; most of the stories Danny got online are from when Robin was a kid, and it's been a few years since then. He must be a teenager now. Older, but still young.

"Robin," he manages to say, his throat tightening. It feels almost like there's a noose around it. It feels like that meta-suppressing cuff has clicked back into place, leaving him helpless.

"Step away from the edge," Robin repeats. "There is no need for this to be your last resort."

"But it is," Danny whispers.

Robin darts forward and wraps a hand around Danny's wrist, yanking him towards the center of the roof. "Why on Earth would you come up here? Surely you must have known that someone would stop you."

"Batman," he gets out. "I need to speak to Batman."

"What for?"

"I'm… I was told, once, that I'm his son."

10. Robin stares at him for a long moment.

Then he takes off his mask.

Danny knows those eyes: he sees them every time he looks in a mirror.

"Danyal," Robin breathes. "You died before I was born."

"I did. Are you…?"

"Mother told me about you."

So he has a little brother. If only he hadn't left first chance he got, he could have known his little brother, gotten away from that place before it hurt him too. Danny has made many mistakes since he arrived in this world. Missing a little brother is perhaps the worst of them.

"Mother…" Danny repeats. "She put me in the Lazarus Pit. I remember that. She didn't want me to die."

"I was born to replace you."

Just like Ellie.

So many mistakes repeating. He's never felt like more of a failure.

"Batman. Our father. He treats you well? You are safe with him?"

Robins brows furrow, but he nods, which is enough for Danny. "Yes. Of course. Isn't that why you're here now?"

"I'm not asking for me." Danny carefully, gently, unwraps Ellie. "I'm asking for her. Please, take care of her. She deserves more than I can give her. Ellie… she'd be your niece."

Robin's eyes are wide. He's frozen until Danny pushes Ellie against his chest, forcing him to lift his arms to hold her.

"Wait, what about—?"

When Robin looks up, Danny's already gone.

It's for the best.

(masterpost for all parts)

#dc x dp #dp x dc #dcxdp #dpxdc #demon brothers #dcxdp fic #the harmless series #gonna make that a full series. all posts will be part of that. heres the beginning of it all!!#reincarnation + demon brothers + baby ellie #tw human experimentation #dw there will be more #i'll have a full masterpost to add to the end of each post once i write and post the next part #which will be damian's pov and the aftermath of danny revealing himself and leaving ellie #my writing

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kaszuma · 5 months ago

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Mockery | Hoshina Soshiro

Part 0 of “Certainly Yours”

pairing: Hoshina Soshiro x fem!reader

summary: Mina Ashiro needed a team. But the moment she found one, she was at a loss at what to do when her Vice Captain and Lead Technician got off on the wrong foot.

warnings: Slight Kn8 B-side Manga Spoilers, Mentions of Soshiro struggling with self-worth, Mentions of slight animosity between you and Soshiro but nothing too major, First-time meeting, Mentions very few graphic depictions of slaying Kaiju.

wc: 9,712

–

note: Hello! Sorry for the long wait.

I originally planned to write Part 7 first. but decided to write Part 0 as a special chapter since I've hit a hundred followers. But by the time I finished, we hit 150. Thank you lots!!

There is less romance on this one, since it's a prequel to Part 1 of Certainly Yours. I originally wanted to incorporate a rivalry or an initial animosity between reader and Soshiro. So this was my best attempt on the subject.

There is a lot more interaction and inner pining because it's still in the initial stages in the relationship. And I had a difficult time cross referencing B-side manga with the things I've already written thus far. I’m disappointed we don't really have much information on Soichiro. And I have big plans to incorporate him in a separate part in much more excruciating detail later down the line. Involving jealousy..

Anyways. For now, I shall write Part 7 and give ya'll the comfort you need. Might be the big I love you's, you're looking for. Wink wink.

Also, please tell me if I missed any warnings. None of these are proof read and my phone lags really bad when I post 9k words worth of fanfiction.

–

The feeling of being needed was a foreign concept that Soshiro Hoshina had never experienced for himself.

The road that he paved himself had always been a lonesome one. Carved by the very callouses of his own fingertips. Where he'd dive headfirst into the nose of a cliff filled with criticisms and comparisons. The world familiar to him had always been accompanied by a sense of mockery for his craft. A sneaky way to bury his existence in the wake of the world that had been full of firearms and expert Kaiju exterminators.

In the face of it all, he had always been frustratingly average.

Not nearly as bright as the way his older brother had burned for the adrenaline of the battlefield. The use of firearms, specialized tools and weaponry that had been modernized to slay larger than life Kaiju. Had always been stacked against him. Someone who was not born with the innate ability to tackle such large threats. His use had been chained to the blade. One so sharp and pristined to the point of no return.

For as long as he remembered, it had always been like this.

Even before he had joined the Defense Force of his own volition. He had always felt inferior in the way his brother Soichiro had bested him in every sense of the word. A genius incarnation that had rarely been born into the Hoshina family's already impressive lineage. In a family who prided themselves as generational Kaiju-slayers.

By all means, Soichiro Hoshina was the perfect man born for the front lines. His presence alone dominated the field. Any Challengers he'd face would be a place where normal people would never be able to reach.

He mastered a variety of martial arts at a young age. Already flipping over instructors each time he was paired to a battle in an attrition of self-defense.

The sword techniques passed down within the generations of his ancestors, had all been perfected to improve upon his own. His sword an extension of his arm each time he wielded it. And in terms of firearms? Soshiro couldn't begin to imagine ever reaching the height of his brother's skill. The gap between them in terms of long ranged attacks had been far too large for him to delusionally think he'd ever make it. Let alone surpass.

And although their youngest was plenty good at the progress of his own swordsmanship. Soichiro was on an entirely different level than he was.

A genius, some would call him. A fact the younger Hoshina was far too aware of.

The dust he left behind when he ran forward was often a sight Soshiro was familiar with. Sweeping him off of his feet each time he'd issue a direct challenge with his older brother.

And although he hated to admit it. Soichiro Hoshina's existence was both an inspiration and a mockery to his own.

A frustrating truth that even he had no choice but to believe.

His enigmatic older brother had always been a person who was destined to become the Captain of the sixth division. And his junior of five years, who had not excelled in anything but his skill in close quarter combat. Had all but stood in his shadow, destined to live a much ordinary life as an instructor like his family suggested.

Not a single person expected him to keep fighting.

To keep swinging that blade of his which had been both a boon and bane for his existence in the defense force.

Each humorous jab, or critical comment directed his way, had always been replied with a simple smile on his cat-like features. Far too exhausting to correct the people who had never dreamed to understand what he wished for.

And even if they never did, even if no one ever believed that he'd be able to survive the chaotic life of killing a Kaiju with a blade alone. He'd fight tooth and nail if he had to, In an effort just to keep his style of combat alive.

Because swinging the sword had always been something he found extreme joy in.

He refused to let this be the written ending for his story. Refused to let fate decide on the path to his future actions. Not when his undoing had all been decided by his unlucky birth.

Had Soshiro existed in a different era, far away from Soichiro. Things may have turned out much differently, he imagined.

But alas, he was stuck fighting. Climbing the gritty stairs of progress. Dragging the heavy weights of his blades all the way to the bloody top. And It showed in the way he never stopped practicing. His personalized equipment had always remained in top condition. The sharp end of that thinly-cut mass of iron had always been razor edged and cut-throat in the way it was maintained. Not even a dent could be seen on the damn thing.

By all means the weapon he held had always been ready. Waiting in fact, for the day Soichiro would mess up and stumble.

And for some reason? Soshiro had a feeling that day would be today.

It was their usual four round duel. An agreement between brothers who'd meet up every afternoon at the end of their respective classes for the weekday. Books packed hastily in an effort to rush home so that they could clash blades in the open spaces of their house's courtyard.

It had been a daily routine at this point.

Often, Soshiro would be the first to come home. Dropping his bag onto the floor of his bedroom and rushing to wear his hakama which had been prepped on the foot of his bed. And the moment he puts it on, he shows no hesitation when he grabs an appropriately sized bamboo blade that he kept nearest his closet.

Soichiro, who was the last to come, had always returned home with his little brother already waiting for him at their usual spot. Stance wide and ready to begin their matchup.

And although he often found his determination awe inspiring.

The older brother was far too aware of his own blood's presence. His eagerness to catch him off-guard had been made clear. Always at the ready in the case he'd make a mistake so that he could close the gap in skill between them.

And Soichiro. Who was as equally as cunning as he is. Had always been one step ahead, at the ready for any of Soshiro’s practiced attacks that even he knew could catch up to him at any moment.

Genius my ass. What's the point of being called that when your younger brother was so close to surpassing you? His progress in the blade is abnormally fast.

And to Soichiro. It was utterly terrifying.

“Yer too stiff ya’ little wimp. How do you expect to swing and hit me when that stance of yours is too rigid.” Soichiro pointed out. His chin pointed at the darker haired boy's much smaller feet. The boy hadn't even hit a growth spurt yet. And at this point he had been much taller than Soshiro's current height. His little brother barely reached the waistband of his Hakama giving him an ample advantage in build.

“Tryin’ something new. Now shut yer’ trap and let me hit ya!” Soshiro replied. The same serious look plastered on his face.

And such a challenge is met by his brother's own smirk. “Quite the yapper today aren't ya?” He laughs.

“-Fine. If you managed to hit me once, I'll let you go at me for another round. That ‘a deal?”

“Don't even need to ask.” Soshiro smirks. And with quick footwork, the boy had already reached his older brother's inner circle.

His steps were precise in the way he wasted no unnecessary limbs in his movement. In three short steps he had been faced to face with him. The tip of his bamboo sword already pointed at the very sky. Ready to strike him in the shoulder in an attempt to have him drop his own weapon. A technique he had done plenty of times to Soshiro before.

But the braided haired boy had been quicker. More experienced for his age. Foreseeing the minor tells his brother would exhibit when striking his sword down. And he wastes no time, pouncing to the side. Narrowly avoiding the heavy hand that had almost hit him on the jugular. Where he knows would've hurt.

It was done in quick succession. Soshiro didn't even have time to realize that his brother had turned on his heel. His blade held with one hand, had swept the ground to hit his very ankle. Effectively throwing him off balance. Making Soshiro yelp as he landed on his rear. Sword slipping from the tight grasp of his fingertips which had not grown enough to garner a steady grip yet.

And he could hear Soichiro’s obnoxious laughter echoing from in front of him. Slapping his leg to try and calm his breathless laughter.

“Whoops, nearly thought you had me there didn't ya?” He places his free hand over his stomach whilst he slung his sword over his shoulder. Trying not to pop a vein while laughing so hard.

And the jolly expression on his face alone had made Soshiro grit his teeth.

“Hah!? One more round and I'll make ya’ eat dirt you big bonehead.” Soshiro had replied. Already scampering about to grab his sword from the sidelines. Readying his stance for another round.

But a little known fact about Soichiro is that his interests never linger on him for too long. Only allowing the younger boy a total of four rounds per day. No more, no less. Had that number exceeded. He'd spare no glance and show disinterest on entertaining the boy no more. And his laughter soon dies down.

“Nope, No way! That's the fourth loss in a row. That's ‘bout enough for today Soshiro.” The older boy shook his head nonchalantly. Fixing up the loose strands of his braid as he turned to walk away. Uninterested now that the battle had ended quickly.

“You coward–One more round! I ain’t done with you yet!!” Soshiro yelled. But he sees the way his older brother was already kicking the wooden sandals off his feet. Walking back inside where the scorch of the afternoon sun would not hit him. And mock reply he'd refuse much louder than before.

“Nope.” His mouth popped.

“Them's the rules, I'm afraid.. Now I’m starvin, let's go grab a bite to eat.”

He sees the way Soichiro had not spared a second to look back. Immediately making a beeline to the Kitchen where he knew a few snacks would be waiting for them.

But unlike the eldest, Soshiro had stubbornly stomped behind his brother. Trying his best to keep up with the older boy who had much larger strides in his steps.

“That ain't fair, you said you'd give me five rounds today!”

“I said I'd give ya an extra round IF ya’ managed to hit me. And beggars can't be choosers here seeing as how not one of your attacks managed to graze me at all.”

“-Looks like you'll need more trainin’ ya little twerp.” His hand had reached to pat him on the head. But Soshiro had slapped it away before it could ruffle the tips of his hair.

“Quit callin me twerp ya Bonehead! I'm not the one who's running away–Come back here so I can kick yer’ sorry butt!” He chased after him. A common sight for the household who often saw the siblings bicker with one another.

But Soichiro was too fast. The pleasant smile on his face remained as he grabbed a rice ball nearest the counter. All the while effectively avoiding the smaller one's tackles.

It had been a few seconds more before Soshiro would give up in his pursuit. The sound or his grumbling stomach made Soichiro want to laugh. But he figured he could spare the poor boy the embarrassment of pointing that out.

Eventually, Soshiro stopped. Grabbing a rice ball of his own, he chooses to sit at the tatami nearest the windowsill of their home. And with much delight begins munching on the rice ball with a fuming look on his face.

He hadn't given up..he’s just a little hungry. That's all. He reminds himself.

“One of these days I'll beat ya’ on the first swing. Just you wait.” And that sentiment makes his older brother smile.

“That so?” Soichiro replied. Sitting beside the younger boy who had taken large bites from his own food. And unbeknownst to Soshiro, a smile appears on the corner of his older brother's lips.

“Well, guess I should buckle up and train too. Wouldn't want my wimpy little brother here to get ahead of me. Now do I?” The younger one couldn't help but roll his eyes. Clearly unamused that his brother had taken to scorn him again.

“Train with what? You're already plenty good at everything else. Yer’ just being mean.” Soichiro couldn't help but chuckle at his brother's small pout. Already grabbing him another rice ball to hand to him, as a form of apology. And Soshiro wastes no time to accept his offer. Enjoying the fresh grains of rice wrapped in that salty seaweed sheet. A singular pickled plum had peaked from within the blankets of warm grains.

“Sure. But I ain't about to slack off and give ya an easy-win.” Soichiro chuckles. Though for some reason, his voice had been far kinder than usual. “-Besides…”

Soshiro pauses, raising a brow at his older brother who had stared at the golden rays nearest the open window. And a strange expression was etched on his very face.

“I'm willin’ to bet that someday..yer’ gonna find someone who's gonna need you. With or without that blade of yours.”

And he raises his head to meet his older brother's strange smile.

It had been a selfish, childish desire for sure. One that disliked the idea of his younger brother overlapping him one day. The sheer dedication and progress he had been making was a far cry to his own. But those words, he meant sincerely. And whether Soshiro was aware of that, he was sure that one day he'd at least think back on it as simply words of mockery to discourage him.

And he did not bother to correct him.

…

It had been a few years since then. And for some reason those words stuck to Soshiro like a moth with a lamp.

It was uncharacteristic of Soichiro.

Even after he cut ties with his older brother. He had always found that sentiment of his, strange. The enigmatic Soichiro did not usually go out of his way to comfort him. Let alone aid him in his training. In fact, he distinctly remembers all the times the braided haired boy discouraging him each time they dueled. Demotivated him to stop in his endeavors.

It wasn't uncommon for his anger to boil when it came to Soichiro’s demeaning behavior. His words, often echoing on days where he’d fail to prove his worth to the defense force.

And although he knew Soichiro was only teasing him. His constant onslaught of berations had made him think he needed to improve upon his flaws even more. His words of mockery, a lingering thought on the back of his mind that would've normally made a person give up. Had only strengthened his resolve. And his actions only lead to even longer strides of hard work that only evolved each passing moment he'd swing his sword.

So why was it that those words of his didn't sound like mockery at all?

Had his brother meant it? When he told him he'd find someone who'd need him with or without the skill of his blade?

It had been almost an entire decade since he last saw his brother. Who had gone straight ahead and became a captain of his own division. And Soshiro had just about joined the defense force. Hoping to prove his worth.

But that was easier said than done.

It wasn't until Mina Ashiro had walked in. Scouting him directly from the Kansai District. Offering him a chance to join the Third Division and rise to the top to become her Vice Captain. But even then, it had still felt like a blow to his existence who had been fighting just to stay in the game.

“I need your abilities. Will you join my force, Hoshina?” Captain Ashiro of the Third Division had spoken. Unabashed upon his entrance to her office. It had been one of those rare instances where he got to visit the Tokyo District. And he wondered if the woman in front of him was being serious in her resolve.

“Me?” He gives a wry chuckle. “Not sure I follow Captain.”

“You're a blade specialist. Yes?”

“That's correct.” He spoke with a weary formality.

“We can't overlook the possibility of miniature-sized Kaiju cropping down the line.” The Captain had spoken with determination. And her eyes meet Soshiro's with much the same determination she had when she first offered him a place next to her.

“When I need to shoot a threat, can I trust that you'll clear a path for me?”

…

Soshiro was frozen on the spot.

He was practically unable to answer her. Too shocked at the mere possibility of being offered a need for his skill with the blade. He had been forced to carry a gun with him before, and that didn't end well. Yet here she was, seeking assistance in a blade specialist who had so often struggled to keep up with entire platoons who had wielded firearms instead of steel.

So why now? Why was it when he resolved to only use blades did Captain Ashiro of the Third Division scout him out? Modern Kaiju of this day and age were large. Gigantic with plated shells that even firearms had struggled to pierce through. What good would a sword do in that situation?

And yet even then, he thought about it.

The possibility of fighting his way in the midst of soldiers who carried firearms and freezing rounds. The sheer thought of rushing forward and slicing Kaiju with the perfected combat abilities he had been polishing way before he had resolved to join the Defense Force.

But before he could resolve to make an answer, the door had opened. And you had entered the fray.

“Him? Well I suppose this isn't the first time the Third's willing to recruit strange people.”

Strange?

Soshiro had looked to the side. Catching a glimpse at your figure as you slowly closed the door behind you. Hands shoved to the front pocket of your lab coat as you walked right next to him. Saluting towards Captain Ashiro to formally greet her upon meeting her gaze.

“Captain.” You addressed. Right beside Soshiro. And you could feel his stares poking through your sides.

“At ease.” The Captain looks back towards him. “Officer Hoshina. This here, is the Third's Lead Technician. She's a weapons specialist and will be here to provide your support should you choose to join our division.”

The sweet smile on your face had not faltered. Taking you back to a relaxed stance as you came face to face with Soshiro’s own scrutiny. His raised eyebrow had been an indication of his hesitancy towards you.

Your eyes had made contact with his. And although squinted, you could see the glimpse of his wine colored eyes. Observing you thoroughly from head to toe.

You weren't exactly sure what was running in his thoughts at the moment. But his skepticism was met by a similar opinion of your own. Not entirely sure if he was as good as Captain Ashiro praised him to be. Though you had to admit, he was at least somewhat nice on the eye.

“I heard about you.” He tilts his head. Fox-like in his gaze. And a smile had stretched amusingly on the corners of your lips.

“Oh? Good things I hope?” He looked unbothered. Though in a sense that his kindness was only a front that he had all but gotten used to in hiding. Likely from your comment from earlier. And you had an inkling that he had a few things to say of his own. Sly in the way he'll word it.

”I suppose..” His reply was curt.

“Heard yer’ one of the few technicians that actually make Specialized Bioweapons, that about right?”

You nod. “Only for the strange ones.”

“-Ones that can't conform to the normalcy of standard firearms. Much like you, it seems.”

This makes Soshiro’s lips quirk. Suddenly very aware that your statement had been a jab of sorts. One he had gotten used to from his own division. And such a challenge was directly and expertly countered back in tandem.

“Well yer’ not so normal yourself ya’ know?” His accent had been made much clearer. And your eyebrows raise. Slightly irate in the way he jabbed at you. Though you let him continue, just to see if he could keep up with his own feist.

“-Heard you were the Technician that was kicked out for bein’ so stubborn to work with.”

And you had to hold back a wry chuckle. It seems his smile had a few sharp claws to fight back with. “So you've heard.”

“-But I suppose you too are used to that very sentiment, yes?” Your words seem to make that easy smile of his falter slightly. It was a miniscule comment, but judging by the way he had remained silent. The tension of the room grew weary as the two sparked a similar glare for each other. And although he found the situation slightly amusing, his displeased conversation had definitely soured his thoughts of joining.

Maybe the Third Division wasn't the place for him either.

What were the chances he'd have a different point of view should he switch divisions now? Your existence proved the very mockery his brother had implied. His Father who was normally supportive had not praised him for wanting to join the Defense Force when all he had was his skill in the blade. And the thought alone is enough to convince him otherwise.

Captain Ashiro's offer had been tantalizing, but not definite. And he has half a mind to excuse himself before things could escalate.

But as luck would have it. Captain Ashiro had been observant. Her intentions were never to have them be at odds with one another. And she clears her throat in the hopes she could ease the tension in the room slightly.

Administering as the only superior officer in the room. Who needed to take much responsibility.

“Sleep on it, Hoshina. We could use a close combat specialist like you out there.”

And whether or not she meant that. There hadn't been much time before an alert went off. A pin placed on his thoughts as he had found himself participating with the Third's mission to exterminate acid spitting Kaiju on the eastern side of the Kanto region.

…

Despite his hesitance. The thought of it still remained. And as if magnetized, he found himself willingly transfering to the Third Division. Somehow surviving a Kaiju attack that he had helped fend off with Captain Ashiro's help.

His sword. One he brought with him from back home. Had all been melted to the hilt. Its black steel had an unnatural wave of color on it. A result of his reckless actions when he remembered having to cut through the insides of a Kaiju's mouth. Saving both himself and a child from being devoured and melted.

Had Captain Ashiro and Okonogi; the Third's Lead Operations gal. Not hac impeccable timing, he was sure he would've been dead meat by now. And yet here he was, alive coupled with only a few bruises on his sore body.

After a few days, he had recovered fairly well since then. Deployed from the hospital after a back and forth discussion between the Tokyo and Kansai district. And he had finally gotten permission for his official transfer. h

His things were readily packed as he made his way to the bunkers of Tachikawa's base.

And just as he had stared at the broken blade, he had debated on whether or not he should've just thrown it out to get a new one.

It took ages to convince the Kansai district to forge him a blade. Steel that could withstand the strength of Kaiju skin. Or have a high enough melting point so that the acidic burns of its saliva and stomach were not affected by it. But that type of material was hard to come by. Let alone, he doubts command would grant him access to such weaponry when he had done nothing to prove his usefulness.

So even then, when he had been given the minimum necessity, he had been careful in its uses. Unsure whether or not his platoon leader would allow him to be given a replacement blade when he had so little opportunity to showcase his skill infield.

He’d likely have to ask Platoon Leader Ebina for a replacement. He had so few extra blades to spare. But the Third had at least been kinder to him than his last division. Surely they'd grant him better access to the weaponry of his choice, right?

Though just as he loathed the thought. His footsteps halted.

And in the middle of the empty hallways, nearest the corner where the sleeping quarters should be. Your eyes had met with his once more. The first time in a while since your encounter in the confines of Captain Ashiro's office.

“It's you.” You had spoken.

Suddenly aware that he had been staring at the broken blade in his hand. Unfazed by the heavy duffle bag he had carried with his other arm. The sudden softness of your voice had been unexpected to say the least. Given the last animosity you both displayed towards each other.

You walked closer to inspect the melted steel. Having already heard the report from Captain Ashiro’s latest mission. And for a moment, he feels as if you had looked almost displeased at the weapon. Guilty for having assumed the worst of him. “Looks like the acid's melted it down. I assume you have a spare?”

He nods. Sheathing the broken shortsword back in its holster. Making it look like it hadn't been broken at all. “That's right. Though I ain’t excited that I'm gonna hafta' throw another one out.”

This makes you smile. And his eyes had widened ever so slightly at the sight of your pretty teeth

So that's what you looked like when you smiled.

“Figures. It isn't very common for people to use steel against Kaiju nowadays. Let alone swords.” You spoke slowly. And this time, you see the way his mouth visibly frowns. A stark contrast to that usual unbothered smile of his when you had first met him.

“Well I ‘spose I'm not your common folk.” He spoke tight-lipped. And you cringe inwardly at your thoughtless words.

You hadn't meant that. A force of bad habit it seems. One that came from a place of wanting to help.

A soldier’s life, especially one that dealt with monstrous Kaiju, had always tipped the balance between life and death. And you had thought it reckless to see him remain stubborn when you first heard your Captain praise Soshiro's skill in the blade. Your impression on him, had made you think he was a reckless fool who did not value his life. At least not enough to learn how to handle firearms.

Though now, after having witnessed his actions through Okonogi and a few key witnesses from that day. You knew that you had been wrong in your assumptions. Planning to make amends the only way you knew how.

Your place as a Technician who could only fight through the weapons you made. One that you hoped would help people survive. Even for just a minute longer, just to make a difference.

“I didn't-” Your words were cut short. Not entirely sure why your voice had cut from the tip of your tongue. So instead you move closer grabbing the hilt of his blade from his fingertips. And that alone makes Soshiro tilt his head in confusion. “Here, let me have a look.”

And he watches you admire the weight and feel of the weapon. Staring at the black leather hilt that he had so often found himself gripping. Enough to cause a few dents in the area. Only further proving his dedication to his craft. But he did not understand your actions. Far too vague in deciphering you when he barely knew much to tell if your actions had been one of curiosity or just sheer brazenness.

“Do you…have something against me? Or is there somethin’ I’m missing here?" He blurts out. Unsure if your earlier comments were made from a place of ignorance or as a way to insult his way of fighting.

And your eyes had so easily pried from the blade and back to his face. Surprised that the relaxed persona of his had momentarily disappeared.

And for a second, you felt the weight of added guilt in the way you had addressed him earlier.“Against you? No, I-”

You sigh. “Not really. If anything I'm interested in you.” Managing to blurt out, almost frowning at the way you stumbled to admit that. Somehow that had been hard to say in front of his face.

“That so?” He tilts his head with a smile. “And here I was, under the impression that you hated my guts.”

You had half a mind to roll your eyes. Make another comment that might've irked his feathers for a bit. But you stopped yourself. Finding the smile on his face much more pleasant than you had imagined. A far cry from the masked practiced one he had adorned when you first met him with. And this time, you had made an effort to be more sincere.

“You've gained my trust.” You simply spoke. This time in a much more pleasant tone than you had anticipated. “I was wrong. I misjudged your confidence for stupidity.”

His eyes had trained over each other. And silence swept over them before you spoke hesitantly once more.

“I thought you were unwilling to adapt to change. But I see now you are much more careful than I anticipated.” Your admission makes him look away momentarily. Suddenly unused to such sincerity after their last meeting.

“Your skill in the blade is impeccable. And instead of being stupid, I'll replace your weapon for you.”

He raises his brow. Not entirely sure what you were getting at until you held the weighted blade with one hand. Unused to the way you had spoken softly this time. Almost apologetic even.

“You mean replace my weapon of choice?” He had assumed as much. Maybe you’d hand him a gun and see just how terrible he'd be at it. But you had almost smacked yourself on the head for wording things so vaguely.

“No.” Your reply was immediate. Making it clear that you had not meant to insult his skill in swordsmanship. That much was for sure. And maybe that had been the first spark that finally got through the both of you. That you had not meant to offend each other. Not this time.

“I meant–the material your weapon is made out of. It's barely functional, let alone made for slicing thick-skinned Kaiju. I didn't mean too.. yeah.”

Your words had caught his throat dry. And Somehow the awkwardness you had displayed had made him chuckle in response. Amused in the way you too, had stumbled in your words when you had so confidently spoken to him last time. He wonders if you were even the same person who'd responded with the feist he had experienced first-hand. Jabs and all.

Normally conversations like these would lead to persuasion. A simple comment to get him to use other weapons. To give up on his hard work with the blade.

By all means, he was used to the impracticality of his craft.

He was good with the blade. A prodigy some would call him. But his weapon of choice had not been suited for practical use. Often delegated as a Martial Arts technique, required to join the Defense Force as a form of experience.

But it seems he had forgotten who he was talking to.

For you had not been a very practical person either. A technician who made specialized weapons for the odd who would not dare conform to the standard way of fighting a modern Kaiju. And this time, he understood the words you had struggled to say out loud. Your apologies were clear, and you wanted to help. Even if you did look adorably helpless in trying to offer that option to him. “So, what I'm getting at is that, yer’ offering to help me. Yeah?”

“Yeah. Cause I have no idea how you survived for this long with such a flimsy weapon.”

“‘Scuse me?” He couldn't help but laugh a little more. Finding your bluntness a charm. Your aura had been quite different from his initial assumptions. And it seems you were just a bold individual who was unafraid of speaking the truth if need be.

And the thought alone made him smile. Much more genuine in the way he realized he'd be faced with.

“Normally people just tell me that I'm bein’ stubborn by sticking to the front lines. But never that..” He chortled again. Finding the amusement almost breathtaking to stand upright.

And the sound of his laughter had been similar to the pretty bells you once heard during the peak hours of a windchimes's ring. Nice and genuinely pretty.

If he had laughed like that everyday, it might make things a little harder for you to deal with. But you ignore the quick pace in your heart strings. Rolling your eyes as if nothing changed in your demeanor.

“Oh please. I've seen it from the Operations Room. You're more than capable. But the weapons they've given you are…subpar to say the least.”

“-If you actually want to do more, you're gonna need a stronger steel base than this.” You had flicked your finger against the holster of the blade. And the sound of contact had echoed to his ear. And suddenly he is all too aware of that soft smile plastered on your face.

A confidence brimming in you that told him all he needed to know. A thought that you'd help him. To stick by his side and pave a way for him. Starting with a better weapon.

“And I can help you. If you let me.”

“Oh. So you're offering to fix my blade for me?”

“Even better. I'm offering you specialized blades. Ones that won't break so easily.” You beamed. And the sight of your eagerness had made him almost giddy. It almost sounded like a pipe dream in the way you had offered no hesitance in supporting him. It was a breath of fresh air amidst the many who had given up on him.

“Though of course, you'd have to rise through the ranks. Command will only authorize special made weapons for the strongest Officers after all.”

“Like Captain Ashiro?” He had spoken out of turn. A tilt on his head at the memory of her rather peculiar specialty. “I assume you'd want someone who can dish out firepower as strong as hers.”

It was no secret that the Captain of the Third Division had an unusual affinity for firearms. Her large weapon was akin to a cannon, fit to destroy larger than life Kaiju should they appear before them. But you had all but shook your head at his comment. Already one step ahead to stop his doubts from formulating. And somehow, despite the difficulty in reading him. You found yourself able to at least grasp a feeling of his inferiority. One that had been beaten down on his very body that had made you feel guilty at the words he endured.

The very same words you've mocked him with.

“No. The rest of the command can have Mina Ashiro for all I care. It's you I want.” You pointed to him. your finger squarely on his chest. And he hopes you couldn't feel the vapid way his heart was hammering upon its contact with the fabric of his standard uniform jacket. Eyes fixated at your determination and unexpected confidence in him.

“But why? Wouldn't ya’ prefer someone more capable in both long and close range weapons?”

“Like who?” You had inquired. And suddenly his thoughts shift to that amazing but annoying recruit he's encountered during his entry exams. One that he had formed a small rivalry with since they had entered the force right around the same time.

“Maybe someone like Gen Narumi?” He shrugs. Though you could tell he was hesitant in his choice of words. Which makes you chuckle. “The soldier who requested a ridiculously large bayonet? No.”

Somehow that made Soshiro visibly relaxed.

“He’s good but there's nothing I can do that can help him further. But you on the other hand?”

He raises his brows. Seeing the way you tilt your head forward towards him. And his breath is caught on his lungs, unencumbered in the way you speak your mind openly and in confidence towards him. Comparison did not exist in your mind. And from the look on your eyes, there had not been an edge of doubt in the way you responded almost immediately to his doubts.

“I'd be a pretty bad Technician if I didn't see your uses beyond that sword of yours.”

“So ya need me?” He spoke incredulously. And although it embarrasses you, you give him a curt nod. That makes a chuckle escape from his lips. “And suddenly I'm beginin’ to feel special since I joined the Third Division.”

“Well, it's true. The rest may not be able to see it. But I know it.” You paused. Looking at him in sincerity. One that he was not used to seeing. And he flinches upon your hand grabbing his own. Feeling the way his skin had rich blisters that had been replaced with heavy calluses over the time he spent training.

“You'll save more lives than I can count, and the only way you'll do that is if you're given a proper blade.”

“-Created by yours truly of course.” You let go of his hand. Hopefully he hadn't noticed the red tint on your cheeks as you looked away. And his laugh is the first thing you hear that makes you want to admire his pretty face.

“Yer crazy..” He shook his head.

Though more of a vapid insult. The smile remaining on his pretty lips had indicated it was done on jest. And for a moment, you were suddenly all too aware of how husky his voice had been, or how much taller he had shadowed over you. Or how much better he looked when he smiled.

And you find yourself taking a few steps back. The broken blade already slotted on your shoulder. Ready to take it to your lab and get a head start on designing a suitable prototype for him.

“So I've heard. But the Third Division is already full of that, don't you think?” And he couldn't help but nod. Watching the way you had slowly walked passed him. Already unused to the given space you had provided. For a moment, he wished you had held his hand longer. It had made him miss the warmth of your closeness from earlier.

“I suppose so. It's a lot different from the Kansai district, I'll give ya’ that.” He turned. Watching as you retreated slowly. And with a single glance, you had all but piqued the very last of his interest.

Suddenly, it was like getting caught on a hook. And he’s afraid he'd be seeking you out everyday. If he can help it.

If you’d allow it.

“If they couldn't make you shine then I'll make sure to pave that way for you. No kaiju is gonna break that sword of yours.” You turn around. Already taking a step forward. Hiding your pink face from his sight. Which he was admiring rather languidly had you not turned your head.

“You have my word.” You had finished off. And before he could even reply, Soshiro was left in the empty hallways of Tachikawa base.

The sudden absence made him slacken, who had gotten so used to your comforting presence. But in spite of his disappointment, he somehow found himself smiling on his own.

It sure is strange hearing someone say that to him.

Mina Ashiro may have been the first to ask of him. To request an offer for his help in the field. His assistance would prove helpful in the face of her attacks, which was made for long ranged weaponry. And he had finally gotten a chance to prove his worth to the defense force. By means of paving a path to slay the Kaiju that got in her way.

But you had been the first to offer that yourself. To pave a path for HIM should any Kaiju get in HIS way.

You offered him a chance to shine.

And he'd be damned if he doesn't reach that expectation of yours.

The one who had challenged him to go beyond a greater height than he had ever envisioned himself climbing. To be needed.

It wasn't after half a month later had he come back boasting the highest melee kill count from small to midsize threats of Kaiju. His actions ebbing a spark in the third's outlook on Bladed users. Inspiring a few onslaught of officers to join a few joint training sessions held swordsmanship. The Kendo match between districts has become a much more popular feat than before.

Now, learning the blade wasn't a simple formality anymore. It had been another path forward. And although only a fool would continue to wield a blade instead of the practicality of long ranged weaponry. Hoshina Soshiro had been that very same fool. He who pushed forward like a madman and insisted on using his signature shorthanded blades, despite the odds stacked against him

And Mina Ashiro had placed a great deal of faith in him. Enough to promote him to a platoon leader. And eventually a Vice Captain of the third Division.

And your eyes had never lingered elsewhere in his pursuit.

Often following his line of sight when you'd seen him train on the very confines of the training room. And even now, you had stared directly at him. Unable to look away.

Not when he had entered your lab with the unusual formality of his standard uniform. His star studded pin hooked on the left side of his jacket's chest. An insignia that had been a symbol of his inauguration as the new Vice Captain of Third Division's upper ranks. His title attained by the mere fraction of his efforts and hardwork.

And you dare not face him with such petty grievances like you had in the past. A smile etched on your pretty lips as you greeted him in a mock salute. As if to tell him you had been expecting this day to come.

“Took you a while, Vice Captain. I almost thought you'd given up on me.” Your joke had made him let out a chuckle. Closing the door behind him as he walked up to your place nearest the desk.

“And miss out on yer’ startled face? Never.” He had spoken more informally than you had imagined. Which made you drop the mock salute you had given him. Rolling your eyes as you moved to stand. Heading to the next desk over as he followed you suit.

“I think you're the one that should be startled.” You had hinted with a giddy giggle.

The correction made Soshiro tilt his head. A sort of curiosity washing over him. And you watch as he closes the gap between his and the proximity of your bubble. Braving to graze his shoulders against you as he crosses your side. Eyes magnetized in the way it had seen your pretty smile. “Oh. Didya' have a surprise for me? Didn't peg you as someone who gave gifts often.”

And you lean forward, nearest his chest. As if to whisper your little secret that you've been meaning to show him for a while now. “In case you forgot, let me remind you.”

Upon landing his gaze on the small glass case on the desk, you had moved your hands to slowly remove the top cover. Revealing the two refined swords around the same length of his arms.

The outer casing, its holster. Was tinted purple like his dark hair. The hints of military green had no doubt matched that of their Combat Suit's design. And it veered to life the moment his eyes fell upon the familiar insignia of the Third Division's logo atop of its hilt. A sign that this weapon had been his.

Well at least, he assumed as much. Judging from the proud and almost excited look on your face. “I finished your swords.” You spoke factually. “Just need your verdict on the matter.”

His eyes had widened. This had been a stark difference from his previous blade. The way it was made was measured perfectly to the length of his arms. The sword bent in a grip for just the way he preferred it to. And its tip? The one where a pivot was placed had been an indication that it was designed so that he could connect the two blades. Form it into one long sword, if he truly wished to.

That alone was an indication that this was likely not a normal melee. Made of simple bronze or steel.

No.

This was a bioweapon. Made from Kiaju to kill Kaiju. One that was only granted to the strongest in the Force. One that had been ready for his use. Built in custom to his preferences. And their eyes met, only confirming his suspicions when she had given him an awkward shrug of her shoulders. Acting as if invisible ink had occupied the space between their feet.

“I said I'd make you a weapon that won't break easily, didn't I?” In an instant, a hot flush billowed in his cheeks. Much the same when your normally hidden shyness had finally resurfaced.

The rare times it did, he couldn't help but stare. Far too enraptured in the gap that had swung between your feist and your awkward responses. And he nods in turn. Suddenly aware that you had been doing such a task so diligently to perfection. “I don't know what to say. I didn't think you'd actually make it.”

You hear him chuckle. And your shoulder had pushed him forward. Towards the weaponry you had made for him.“Go on, it's not like anybody else can use it.”

Soshiro had looked at you, hesitant in the way you had so readily offered him such a gift. Your words had been proven in the way your assurances hit his heart. And his hand had a mind of its own as it grabbed the hilt of the blade. Sliding its cover right off so he'd have a chance to see the refined structure of the thinly cut mass of iron.

One he had been accustomed to weilding since he had been born.

Though instead. He was met with the dark shade of a similar material. Stronger than Iron, nor any steel for that matter. It was a blade far too distinct to forget. Luminous in orange hues as if it burned with the same heat that had allowed him to move in the enhancement of his suit.

And it had been clear this weapon was far stronger than the rest of his blade. Bound to cut a Kaiju's outer shell much easier than his previous ones would let him.

And the light one that breathed with an eery calm had reflected his own wine red eyes on the blade. The very movement caused a sound cutting through air when he'd expertly move it with his fingertips.

A sight of which had glued your eyes onto him. Finding his stupor rather mesmerizing than usual. His concentration had not been a rare sight for you, especially when you had caught glimpses of the many nights he'd spend alone in the training room.

But being this close. Seeing the joy nipping at his face. Somehow it makes your heart flutter strangely. And you had to shake your head to snap yourself out of admiration for the man. Suddenly focusing your attention back to blade one which vyed for his approval.

“So, do you like it?”

Soshiro had hummed. The usual grin on his lips remained unphased despite the giddiness in his chest. “Mmm...I ‘spose it's subpar at best.”

“Excuse me? Rude.” He laughs at your comment. And he puts the blade back in its holder. Already placing it on the back of his waist, right where it belonged.

“I'm kidding.” He spoke immediately after. A laugh bellowing from his abs. Though your scrunched nose had made it difficult for you to believe his immediate reply.

“No, I'm serious. You've outdone yourself sweetheart. Never seen a sword this sharp before..” He looks you over, admiring the easy smile on your face. That and the nickname seems to have made your cheeks flare up in surprise.

And he had to remind himself to engrave that very image of you on the back of his mind. Fearing that he may never get to see such a sight again.

“Well say that first! It's kind of difficult reading your facial expressions, you know?” You huffed. Though the easy laughter of his had remained. And a smile soon replaces your hefty frown.

“Sorry, sorry. Is there a price I hafta pay ya’? You know, for making me such a nice weapon and all that.”

You shrug, scooting your way right in front of him where he could just as easily close the gap between the two of you.

Have your chest pressed up against his, hand gripping the plush of your lower back. Admiring the gentle way you'd likely stare up at him with flamed cheeks. But he stops, already feeling too guilty to indulge himself further. And your reply had been quick enough to distract him from any incoming thoughts that had pushed his mind to try and get closer to you.

“Only your help, when it comes to a few suit upgrades.”

Help huh? He supposes this would be a good excuse to go see you more often. Though the simplicity of such a task was a little more suspicious on your part. And he had an inkling you had a few things in mind that involved more than just that.

But then again. He couldn't exactly read you either. Not completely at least.

Not yet.

“Quite demanding, aren't we?” He nods.

You had rolled your eyes at his teasing.

“You're the one that offered. But fine, be like that.” You had crossed your arms. Already backing away, and you had felt the way he had firmly pulled you back. Hand against your elbow. Making you face him whilst he tilted his head in your direction.

“Now, now..I never said anything about refusing you didn't I?” He chuckles. And the deep rumble makes your stomach churn in small caterpillars. Ready to form butterflies should he continue.

“Wasn't that already implied?” You spoke. Aware of the way his palms had steadied you by the elbows. The hint of warmth against his skin was almost tantalizing to make you lean forward. But before you had the chance to, he let you go. Leaving only an inch of space between the both of you.

“Shh..” His finger had raised itself against your lips. Shushing you before you could make another smart quip at him that was sure to insight another bout of witty banter. One that he knew he'd grown accustomed to in the future.

“I was just messing with ya'” He laughs. Only confirming that he had been hooked indefinitely by you. And he moves his free hand to tug your hair behind your ear.

“Do you, or do you not want to help me?” You had asked incredulously. Already finding his musings rather annoying. But the way he looked at you had your breath caught in your throat.

His gaze, although clouded by the silent promise to himself. Had not seen the way you too had a similar look on your face. And whether or not you had been aware of this promise. It doesn't fail to make your heart pick up its pace. His voice was almost reminiscent of prayer when he spoke your name in a whisper.

“I do want to help.” He spoke slowly. And your eyes flutter closed wondering if his touch would linger for a bit longer. But his fingertips remained curt. Pulling back just as soon as it grazed your skin.

“And how do I know you're being serious?”

“All ya’ have to do is call me. And I’ll Certainly be Yours, if you want me to.”

And he meant it. He was sincere in his intention to get close to you. To help you like you had sworn to him. Use his skill to protect you, should you ever need it.

And somehow, he is reminded of the time his brother had spoken to him long ago. Back when they were kids, dueling with simple bamboo swords back in the peace of their own home. Eating those childhood rice balls in the afterhours of their respective schools.

Soichiro be damned. Because somehow he was correct in his predictions. His words were every bit of a mockery to his craft. And although it was a rare sight to have him be soft in his presence.

Somehow, that was the one time he did so dissolutely.

And now, it looks like he's found someone who needs him. With or without that blade of his.

And this time, there was genuinely no sense of mockery in the way he had met you.

He only hoped he wasn't too late.

#anime #kn8 #kaiju no. 8 #hoshina soshiro x reader #soshiro hoshina #hoshina soshiro #kaiju no 8 x reader #kn8 x reader #hoshina soichiro #mina ashiro #konomi okonogi #kaiju number 8 #kaiju #Kaiju no 8 B Side Manga #hoshina x reader #Vice Captain Hoshina #soshiro hoshina x reader

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alllgator-blood · 8 days ago

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Okay I promise my next post will be the angst comic part 4 but FIRST. THE ONE AND ONLY THING I SHIP

LITERALLY THE SECOND PERSON WHO GUESSED THE PAIRING GOT IT CORRECT??? THAT WAS FAST. This is a situation where I have to go "okay hear me out" because it makes 0 sense to anyone but me. This is really long and very dependent on my au comic nobody but me has read, but the TL;DR is:

I feel like they'd be a good pairing because shamura loves to learn but doesn't care about material goods, and mystic seller is used to all gods talking to them only BECAUSE they offer material goods. So when somebody actually wanted to know about *them* personally and what it's like to be a weird angel thing, the two established a bond. Also they're both agender and most likely asexual AND don't seem to be socially aware despite being ancient wise beings that know seemingly everything, so they understood each other like instantly.

I have a lot of sketches of them hanging out but here's a shitpost sketch thing I made AAAAAGES ago

Okay so from an in-game standpoint, mystic seller pops up to tell you how the post-game works with purgatory and all that, and introduces the purged bosses. Really ratau could've done that as the established Tutorial Guy, or even narinder but there IS the chance that you killed both of them (lol) so mystic seller is the unkillable, all-knowing angel that shows up to say "you suck at killing people. The bishops are trapped in purgatory, you know. You should probably do something about that".

But from like a CHARACTER standpoint what do they stand to gain? They're not even from your dimension so why should they care, they're just here for your god tears? From the dialogue about the bishops we can see that they don't really give a shit about any of them, EXCEPT! SHAMURA? Mystic seller doesn't feel emotions like "our kind" does but one of the only times they do, it's to say it's a shame what happened to shamura. They also say they didn't barter with them much, because they "needed little".

SO THAT HAD ME THINKING. My au comic (which is hundreds of sketched panels and the full thing will never see the light of day unless I post it unfinished. Eugh) is about shamura going around chronicling everything they witnessed during the time they were alive, and they notice everyone is like...selfish. Trying to be the last god standing. Really obsessed with trinkets and charms, so some of the gods just go around harvesting relics from the other gods and using their powers to survive a little longer. Shamura has visions of the future of siblings they don't know they have yet, so they try to be friendly with the rest of the pantheon to form a family and it always bites them in the ass, so they have to kill them.

Eventually they end up with all these fuckin god tears and they're thinking "what do I even do with these? Nobody wants them and everyone has them", and BOOM. MYSTIC SELLER JUMPSCARE. They do the whole introduction where they say they have loot in exchange for god tears, shamura just drops off the tears and is like "I don't care about trinkets, bye" and the seller is like. What Thy Fuck. Because every other god is pretty adamant on getting something good in exchange for the tears. So they call them back and ask if there's ANYTHING at all they want. And shamura, being the self-proclaimed wisdom god, just asks the seller to talk about themself for a while, who's just like okkaaayyy?? Nobody else ever asked what it's like to be a bizarre circle headed angelic creature that collects magical bits and pieces, but shamura LOVES to learn, and the two bonded that way. Shamura would bring the mystic seller god tears, the seller would tell them a story, they'd write it down to put in their archives and the conversations eventually got more personal when the stories started to run out. They both realized they don't understand how other people work, but they knew how *each other* worked so they could kinda learn how to function as normal people with each other's observations.

When I say I ship them I mostly mean like a QPP situation because I think they'd be good partners in the most autistic asexual way possible, where they don't make out sloppy style or outright say "I love you", but they have an understanding of one another that doesn't apply to anyone else really. They don't have to rely on conventional relationship stuff to know the other one cares deeply for them in the most nonverbal, oddly specific way possible. I know shamura's the smart one but I really feel like that extends to everything except understanding how people work, hence all the stuff that happened with narinder and the rest of the family. So finding someone else outside the pantheon who is quite literally inhuman, otherworldly, genderless and uninterested in Carnal Desire would definitely make them feel the closest thing to romantic love that they can. Also, since mystic seller lets the gods name them, shamura named them "sunshine" after hearing one of their followers singing that "you are my sunshine" song to the person they loved the most. I always liked how shamura has their little moon crown and the mystic seller is depicted as the sun in some of the art? They go together well is what I'm saying and I'm kinda surprised nobody has done anything of them yet.

I WILL SAY I have angst planned for them once I do the introductory comics, it has to do with how narinder's imprisonment happened literally right in front of where mystic seller sets up shop, so canonically it's safe to assume they watched shamura get lobotomized in real time :')

But for now...I must go back to kallamar angst cause I've been putting off posting this part. It gets very mentally ill very quickly so I needed to balance it out with fluff......

#river rambles #shamura #mystic seller

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venus-is-thinking · 2 months ago

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DRDT Chapter 2 Episode 16: Initial Thoughts

Sorry for missing episode 15 :(

That being said, oh my god, Chapter 2 is actually complete! This is so exciting! I'm really hyped to talk about this episode and give my not-live summary of my live reactions!

SPOILER WARNING FOR DRDT THROUGH THE END OF CH 2!!!

CW: Murder, sacrifice, suicide

The Reactions

12-1, this time. I'm still personally partial to the extra vote on Teruko last Trial being Arei (being petty about her "I'm voting for you no matter what" thing), so I would assume Ace is the Teruko vote. If so, I do think it's interesting that he voted Teruko as opposed to, like, Nico. Then again, it might be that it's just more convenient for DRDTdev to consistently put the extra vote on Teruko, lol.

Notably, the dead people have "N/A," not 0. We probably could tell this because of Xander last time, but I didn't check. I wonder if this implies we won't ever need to vote for someone dead (ex. a mastermind who "died" earlier in the killing game).

I'm free... I can read whatever Eden says as genuine...

Take THAT, Whit time loop theorists /j

I do think it's funny/kinda telling? that Whit is only saying this after the trial is over. Like, I feel like the normal time to go "oh my god we're having another trial" is, like... when you find the body? So, it's interesting that his reaction is so delayed.

So, I don't know if this was an intentional parallel, but...

These feel similar to me. I really like the Ace/Arei parallels, where they're both chronically hated people, but Arei apologizes and tries to change whereas Ace lets the fear and paranoia consume him until there's no turning back. Ace only says this after he's already been found guilty of murder; Arei says this before promising to change her ways to the victim of her bullying.

Teruko out here hopping on that self-blame train.

It's so funny how different Hu's standards are when talking about Ace's murder vs. Nico's attempted murder. Like... Hu this is what everyone was telling you like an hour ago. What.

It's really interesting that we're highlighting this line. I wonder if this is part of a theme that we're going to explore further, maybe tied into the "all murderers have to be punished" thing. Or maybe Eden isn't actually accurate here, but doesn't know it; has Ace killed someone in the past?

Fun trick you can do here!

When we first met Teruko a week ago, she was the same person, certainly, but she was also different. She was happier, and she trusted people more.

There are so many good character parallels in DRDT. The Ace/Teruko one was really interesting in this post-trial.

Ooh, new flavor of J anti-murder! This seems to be broadening it to also being critical of the killing game, which would go against my weird hypothetical "J is anti-murderer but also the mastermind" read.

It's interesting, with how this is Ace's logic. It makes total sense for his character, though. I think it's easy for us, the viewers, to forget the fact that the characters probably don't have the precedent of "every blackened ever always loses." When Ace is running the odds, he thinks his survival odds were better as a killer than as a participant in the killing game. And y'know, considering how close he came to dying as Nico's victim, that's kinda fair.

I desperately want to know what Levi was going to say here.

I really like the fact that Ace DID care about Levi. That he intrinsically cares about him, but he knows factually that he isn't supposed to like or trust someone in a killing game. That once he killed Arei, he had to resolve to kill everyone in the killing game, even Levi.

The only way Ace knew to prevent himself from caring was to stay mad, I guess. Kinda unfortunate though, considering that I do think Levi wanted to patch things up with him genuinely.

Meanwhile, Levi, who doesn't understand emotions, is just like "man what the fuck. That makes no sense."

What a pair. I'm sad we're not going to get to see their dynamic anymore :(

In other words, I'm back on the Levi survivor train baby! My biggest problem with it before was that I thought Ace was gonna survive and I didn't think Ace and Levi were both gonna survive, so now we're locking tf in!

This is fun! I always wonder why more people don't try stuff like this. Like... shoot your shot. You're gonna die otherwise, soooo...

Great animation as always

I think it's really funny that Teruko is so fucking mad that she bullies Ace into action. Like, that's so fitting for both of them.

I love using this David expression here. He's just like, "was it that easy? Why was I trying to throw the trial then???"

aaaaAAAAAAAA--

What the fuck!! XF-Ture mention!!!!!!!!

I like the spooky vibe MonoTV has for this post-trial, but I do hope we get our normal silly lil guy back next chapter. I like the MonoTV personality we see all the time. I'm gonna miss it if it just died like that :(

I am also squinting so hard at everyone's reactions through "who is the mastermind" goggles. Maybe I'll analyze them in a different post sometime.

Fascinating purpose. Not "to create despair." Not "to run the killing game until only one participant survives." To kill everyone.

Does this include whichever mastermind?

Why does whoever programmed MonoTV want to kill all of these people? Are they being punished for something?

This countdown sequence fucked me up. The tensions and emotions are so high. Even as someone who was confident that Teruko, at least, wasn't going to die no matter what, I was so on edge. I got really scared that Eden was going to take the hit for Teruko, though, and that's what I was reading into when I wasn't sure Eden would make it to Chapter 3.

This speech, more than any other one Teruko has made or any actions she's taken or endured, really made me feel for Teruko. The fact that she can so casually talk about truly traumatic and horrific things happening to her, while smiling, truly shows how much she's grown used to it. Like, girl. You don't deserve this. What.

The character work on Teruko especially this episode is just fantastic. No words.

This panel stressed me out so bad because it was really just a question of WHO took the bullet for Teruko. Like, if she's thinking this, someone clearly did.

My bets were on either Eden, Charles, or Ace.

Levi, though, was such a surprise to see. Like, in a good way. It means so much.

First of all, it's a callback to the end of the prologue. Levi attacks MonoTV, and when MonoTV tries to kill him in response, Teruko's danger sense alerts her. It's only through Teruko warning Levi to move that Levi dodged the main attack, resulting in only an arm injury rather than death. Now, Levi returns her favor, preventing her from dying from attacking MonoTV.

Second, it puts Ace into the position we see of having to confront the possibility of Levi's death. I got the distinct sense that they wanted Ace to be able to do something heroic on his way out, to prove all the haters wrong (which is why I thought it was possible he'd take the hit for Teruko instead of Levi). By putting Levi, pretty clearly the person he cares most about, into harm's way, it makes Ace take action. It means that he HAS to confront the fact that he cares Levi, and that he has to die.

And, thirdly... I am so fascinated to learn why Levi did this. Was it as simple as a transactional, "you saved me from execution before?" Is it "I thought saving someone would make me a good person?" Does Levi actually feel some remorse for Teruko in this moment, causing him to take action?

No matter what his reasoning, I can't wait to hear from him. I strongly suspect Levi won't actually die from this (at the very least, I hope not, because I really want to hear more from him), but even if he does, hopefully we'll still get some more insight in a bonus episode or a flashback or something.

I'm trying to figure out what triggered Whit here.

This is immediately following "The elevator won't open," but it also definitely can just correlate to "[person] will die if they don't receive immediate medical treatment." I have to assume that something here is reminding Whit of his mom...?

With the weird "Whit knows a lot about hanging" earlier, I got the impression that Whit's mom probably hung herself. From this, I would probably theorize that Whit found her while she was still alive, but not quickly enough to save her. Yikes.

Anyways, I think that means everyone has some kind of despair sprite now! That's fun!

I'm sure many have pointed this out, but do we think he's counting himself here (Arei + Ace + Levi = 3), or do we think he feels responsible for someone else's death in his past (probably Taylor)? I'd lean towards the second one.

Y'know, before I thought Arturo was just pressed about the surgeon thing because people were unfairly hating on him. This, at least, I think implies something relating to Felicity.

Arturo doesn't have any experience saving lives. He left, and Felicity died. He can't save lives; he's only responsible for Felicity's ending. I think that's how he sees it.

On a side note, I think there's a very definite possibility that Chapter 3 cold opens on Arturo saving Levi's life??? Like, how Chapter 2 started with Eden POV, I think Chapter 3 could start with Arturo taking his shot at healing Levi, eventually resulting in Levi stabilizing. I'm not sure who would be there with him. Possibly Hu, since she was leading the "let's get Levi to the infirmary" effort...?

I love executions like this. Accirax has said before that the best executions are what make their recipient feel the most despair, and that's definitely what they did with Ace here. Put the talent aside; fear is what Ace fears the most.

Uhhhh. I'm pulling an Accirax. Part 2 in reblog!

#drdt #drdt spoilers #danganronpa despair time #levi fontana #ace markey #teruko tawaki #arturo giles #whit young #i think those are the people who have justified this #reblog being made rn

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theycalledhimastar · 9 months ago

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I may love Kyle, but I can totally admit when he acts like a total weirdo (he doesn't, he's perfect).

☄. *.

Alright, for starters, man takes up all the counter space with his stuff. Unlike Simon, he is very loyal to his brands and he has a longer face care routine than you do.

Just look at his perfect skin and tell me I'm wrong because you can't, that shit's flawless and he intends to keep it that way.

Every towel in the bathroom smells like him whether or not he's used it and you will never ever figure out why.

(It's because he probably used it-)

"Kyle, did you use my towel after your shower?"

"No, why?"

"Because it literally smells like your bodywash."

"How do I know you didn't just use my bodywash?"

Don't make this about me, Kyle Garrick. You know what you did, you're just lucky your shampoo is easy on the senses. He's the one task force member that seems to be able to differentiate between what smells good and what is altogether too much.

The type of guy to have long, gorgeous eyelashes and always, ALWAYS complain about them getting in his eyes.

Like suck it up pretty boy, you're literally living my dream here with those baby doll eyelashes of yours.

He also knows it pisses you off so he tries not to mention when it happens, so you'll just catch him sitting there on the couch blinking like a madman. Trying his darndest to get the annoying eyelash from his eye without drawing attention to it. Although really and truly this just makes it more noticeable and kinda funny to watch.

Applies Chapstick in that really weird way that guys do it where they make a duck face, except he's fully self aware, he just knows it weirds you out so he exaggerates it further.

"Babe what are you doing, that's not how you apply chapstick."

"What do you mean, there's no right way to do it." :0

SLEEPS WITH HIS SOCKS ON BECAUSE HIS FEET ARE ALWAYS FREEZING!!!

Like thank you for sparing me from those absolute ice blocks, but like babe, that is unnatural. It is cruel and unusual and I will not stand for it!!

(Socks stay on during sex-)

Also prolly wears long sleeves and pants to bed regardless of how warm it is because he swears its more comfortable. Bro going to bed fully dressed, all he needs are shoes smh.

On a similar note, his hands are always cold, but instead of putting them in his front pockets or his jacket pockets like a normal guy, he walks around with his hands in his back pockets given the chance.

Doesn't think it's weird, but he walks around leaned back in order to do it and it looks goofy as hell.

Willing to advocate for you and it's really sweet, except it'll be for every single little thing. Like not just ketchup that you ordered but didn't get, if you off-handedly mention that whatever you ordered is kinda cold, he is on it immediately.

"Hey, uh, my Partner here says their food is a little cold, is there any way we could fix that please?"

Like he's not rude about it, but you still want to die inside because it's not a big deal and he doesn't seem to get that you really weren't complaining or trying to get him to fix it.

#cod x reader #call of duty #cod mw2 #crack fic #gaz cod #kyle gaz x reader #kyle gaz garrick #kyle garrick #kyle garrick fluff

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jeonscatalyst · 3 months ago

Note

https://x.com/inkedjkk/status/1831670685305114941?t=JUfQ9UQXLYowW2zfP1KgUA&s=19

Mind you this is some 9k+ followers acct

https://x.com/pinkorangesun/status/1831647803803902094?t=Gl9Z92VsCpcCa5GBQKJdOw&s=19

https://x.com/jikookreports/status/1831664356150386976?t=bWMuICdCMpkc3t7MGBTZng&s=19

I actually don't wish to be like a Tkkrs even on my worst enemy cause the guarantee of you ever turning to a normal human is 0 % there.

You know why I would never take these people seriously? They don’t even believe the things they say. They have spent years calling us jokers, laughing at us for believing in what we believe in and thinking we are gullible and stupid for letting the “company narrative” cloud our judgement of reality but look at the things they do. Why on earth would anyone feel the need to intentionally manipulate sub titles just to make it seem like Jk didn’t want to be there unless they are mighty insecure? I swear I wouldn’t feel the need to do any of these unless I am seriously worried that Jk might have been there because he actually wanted to be and I need to convince myself and my minions that he didn’t want to so we can feel better.

The funniest thing is, taekookers will have a much easier time if they just accepted that Jimin and Jungkook are friends who love each other. Because even if you really believe taekook is real why do you need to try to hard to invalidate the friendship of Jungkook and one of the members he’s known for over a decade? Friends can travel and do shows together can’t they? We know that Jungkook has been on multiple private trips with his friends outside of BTS, they’ve been around each other so much in chapter so why can’t they continue believing in their ship and just regard Jimin as one of Jk’s other friends? Unless they can’t do this because there is a part of them that sees exactly what we see and that frightens them. I have recieved asks from people sending me what some of the taekook blogs on here are saying and it is beyond ridiculous.

Imagine claiming that Jk was on his phone alot because Tae wasn’t in this episode like we didn’t all watch Tae spend 3/4 of his time in episode 4 and 5 on his phone when Jk was seated right next to him. So by their logic Tae has another lover who kept distracting him right? Plus Jk was actually on his phone in the episodes in Jeju too but it wasn’t as noticeable because there were two other people we could pay attention to while he was a bit distracted on his phone but when have taekookers ever cared for logic?

Imagine them also saying that Jk looked like he didn’t want to be there with Jimin in Sapporo Lmaoo. I think these people are forgetting that the trip in NY was the only one Jimin himself suggested. The trips to Jeju and Sapporo were BOTH Jimin and Jungkook’s ideas and from the look of things Jungkook might have been the one who suggested they go to Sapporo together, I mean he said this….

They also seem to forget that Jungkook is the one who spoke about wanting to do this till they are 50 and from the look of things he wasn’t joking because after NY, they went on to shoot in 2 other locations and might have done more if they had more time. Untop of that Jk basically spent this entire episode saying this….

I know they have never been good at listening to Jk but isn’t it common sense to know that if someone really doesn’t enjoy doing something they wouldn’t wanna do it again? Plus this whole travel show wasn’t an idea that came from the company (because I jusy know they would throw in the contract bullshit) this whole thing was only possible because Jimin and Jungkook wanted it to be. Jimin pitched the idea to the company with Jungkook’s approval and they made it happen so if Jungkook didn’t want it in the first place, even the NY trip wouldn’t have happened and that’s a fact.

They can go on crying about how Jk didn’t wanna be there even though we know he was the one who wanted to go back, or talk about how Jimin and Jungkook have no chemistry (we all saw the great chemistry taekook had in the jeju episodes with Tae being more interested in his phone and bed than anything else while Jungkook kept talking and interacting with Jimin mostly) but at the end of the day, when they look at this picture they know Jk was happy af to be there and only wanted to go back with the same person he was there with in 2017……

So let the haters cry. Let them gaslight themselves the way Jungkook was trying to gaslight himself about not liking the spicy braised chicken in Jeju lol. Let them continue convincing themselves that Jk had an awful time and only did it because he was contractually bound to while they have to wake up seeing this big smiles on his face while he is having a kdrama moment in the snow with his Jiminie hyung😌

PS: Notice how Jungkook said he normally doesn’t like walking? But we know that the longest walk he has had in his life was in Japan with Jimin where they even had to walk slowly because Jimin’s feet hurt and here he is in Sapporo again walking with Jimin because he doesn’t mind walking in the snow with his Jiminie hyung🥰

#jikook #jimin #jungkook #taekook #the cult #are you sure #my asks #jikook blog

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convoloutedinjoke · 1 year ago

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Rating Disco Elysium characters based on how funny I think their kinks have the potential to be

Harry: the DSM of getting off on things. He likes piss he likes feet he likes the idea of being soooo small and tiny you could step on him like a bug, and while none of these things are funny on their own they are when he does them on account of his being a clown. He would also fuck a clown, incidentally. 8/10, knocking two points off because this lacks the element of surprise.

Kim: Leather and uniform fetishist. No wise guy shenanigans here. Will fuck you serious will fuck you professional. His strap is extremely normal, his daddy/boy dynamics are not a laughing matter. 4/10 because he wants to have relations with his car and is embarrassed about it

Jean: No idea what gets him off but he genuinely believes whatever it is means he’s evil and weird, making him the proud owner of The Worlds Funniest Kinks. 9/10, steals mustard from the homeless without remorse but has a moral crisis every time he cums while fantasising about getting gangbanged in a holding cell. Sad!

Trant: not funny. too passionately open about the things hes into. if you tried to make light of his trampling fetish, he would recite the wikipedia entry on cock and ball torture to you from memory and look delighted to be sharing his interests with you the whole time. 3/10

Klaasje: not funny to most on account of being conventionally attractive and good at billing her sexual encounters as suffused with romantic, literary ennui but it SHOULD be funny to be such a Lana Del Rey motherfucker in the sheets so I’m pulling rank and saying 7/10

Joyce: cringefail class dynamics fantasies. Bodice rippers and the opposite of CEO erotica feature heavily here. This wouldn’t be funny if not for the fact she literally owns a yacht. Also wants to get stabbed a little bit. 5/10, probably read the elysium version of lady chatterlys lover as a teen and still jerks off about it.

Garte: a normal man if there ever was one. has kinks but they aren't funny. wears a bra sometimes and it looks cute. 1/10 probably fun to hook up with and a decent communicator

The Deserter: given the 5 decades of loneliness, im willing to bet his brain has rewired itself into having some interesting potentially bug-related reward pathways but whatever he's got going on is too sad to laugh about. 0/10 :(

Sunday Friend: his kinks would be funny on anyone else, but he’s very very very boring. 2/10, you can pay a twink to do raceplay with you, but it wont dispel the grey miasma of being a mid tier government employee

evrart: I don’t know honestly, the lying and manipulating and petty power plays scrambled my brain despite the rube-Goldbergian elements of all his little tasks. Maybe he’d do predicament bondage? Uh. 3/10. Id let him hit, but he also has kind of a Wallace n Grommit thing going on so I can’t say 0

Steban: big on role playing but isn’t very good at it. Starts giggling halfway through when it becomes apparent how silly the fake muttonchops are. 4/10, less funny than it could be because he has a sense of humour about it

Ulixes: probably has a guro thing but also hasn’t had sex since he started focusing on reading theory and feints at the sight of real blood. This should be less funny than pretending to be Kras Mazov in bed, but he takes himself extremely seriously. 6/10 until he starts getting laid again, then still 6/10 but for other reasons

Gary: cuck chair. 10/10. I am not elaborating because I’m tired now, but someone else made a convincing post at one point

#disco elysium

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infiniteetcetera · 6 months ago

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The recent discourse of “Cassian/Nesta don’t make sense as mates from a power standpoint” is so interesting (and true) but I also find it interesting that I don’t think there really is any other SJM world mates that parallel Cassian/Nesta?? Like there’s nothing about them that reads as mates to me. Whether you like them or not, Feysand, Rowaelin, Elucien, and Quinlar all make perfect sense to me as mates (even if it’s not in a romance sense but in like a powers/fantasy bond/parallels sense) The only SJM couple that comes close to Nessian in terms of parallels for me is (Nessian stans turn away now) Azriel/Mor.

There are actually a lot of interesting parallels here on the surface/in terms of scenes. I give you examples:

• Mor yanking her hand away from Az and Cassian yanking his hand away from Nesta, even though the action shows incredible (rare) vulnerability from Az/Nesta.

• The entire Cauldron/end of ACOMAF scene, Cassian’s reactions to Nesta being hurt and Azriel’s reactions to Mor getting hurt are the same.

• A complete lack of understanding for one another despite their connection?? Cassian and Nesta are almost never on the same page and Mor and Azriel still fail to understand each other after 500 years of friendship.

•Choosing Rhys/orders over each other, specifically when it matters most.

•The way Mor describes Azriel’s feelings of inadequacy and feeling undeserving of her are exactly how Nesta describes her feelings for Cassian and not being good enough for him (also neither Cas/Mor has ever told the other they’re wrong for feeling that way).

•Despite their own disregard of the others feelings, Cassian/Mor demonstrate a similar weird possessiveness over Nesta/Azriel, in particular i’m thinking of Cassians reaction to Neris (even though Nesta doesn’t even like Eris) and Mor’s reaction to Elriel (like you’re a Lesbian girl why do you care who Az is flirting with)

•A surface level parallel of powers that implies a subservience that isn’t normal with mating bonds (where powers are meant to compliment each other, even if one is slightly more powerful.) For example, Nesta’s power is death and Cassian is a war general (who delivers death, but is inherently subservient to it) and Mor’s power is “truth” while Azriel is an interrogator with a knife called truth teller (again sort of subservient to the idea and pursuit of truth, not equal to it)

•The implication of having no shared hobbies and one being forced into doing what the other likes (Nesta training to become more like Cas, Azriel going to Rita’s and generally putting himself out there to please Mor)

•The manipulation of emotions to force the other into doing what they want. Nesta goes from 0 to 100 in accepting the bond bc Cassian pushes this idea of being “shackled” to her and reminding her she’s inferior/not enough for him. Mor is constantly using Azriel’s feelings to force him to talk/agree to plans and just generally do what she/the IC wants

•The complete IGNORING of an implicit love confession (Az/Mor after the Autumn court debacle, Cas/Nes at the end of ACOWAR) even though ignoring it is weird and makes no sense.

WHY DO I POINT ALL THIS OUT? I think these parallels could mean some important things, especially because SJM could have chosen to ignore all the weird/bad things about Nessian and pretend they had a happily ever after following ACOSF but she didn’t. So, what are the options here?

1) I’ve seen this one a few times and I think it’s an interesting concept: there are “true” mating bonds, like those in TOG, and there are “cauldron” mating bonds, which have less to do with love/romance/compatibility and more to do with breeding and just generally creating a path the cauldron deems suitable. I think Mor/Azriel being “cauldron” mates would be a great way to explore this concept since Mor can’t love Azriel, giving Azriel a chance to be with someone purely out of choice (no matter who that is), and forcing the Archeron sisters to contemplate their mating bonds and whether they really want their mates (I focus more on Nes/Elain here, I hold true that Feysand is here to stay, though this could be an interesting contention point for Rhys)

2) This seems less likely to me but would be SO interesting: Rhys has the power to fake mating bonds to a certain degree and has been doing so when it suits him. Now let me specify one thing: Rhys did NOT fake his bond with Feyre, we do know this for certain. Based on his thoughts it’s also very likely he did NOT fake Elucien’s bond. HOWEVER i think it is totally plausible and makes sense for him to fake a bond between Mor/Azriel and Cassian/Nesta as a means of controlling Azriel and Nesta. We are told several times throughout the series Rhys doesn’t know how to control Az and the first time we see Az try to defy him (by being with Elain) what does Rhys immediately ask??? wHaT aBoUt mOr, aZ? Such a weird thing to bring up, except it’s not when you get to the basis of all Mor and Az’s interactions and why people think Az loves Mor (he does what she says and tries to make her happy, even to his own loss) except apparently when it suits Rhys. We’ve seen the SAME vibe with Nessian, and we know Rhys has been hardcore struggling to control Nesta. I think if he saw they had some mutual attraction, faking a bond there would make sense. it would also make sense they were able to avoid/ignore each other for so long (like the bond was faded) but then have an intense connection when around each other

3) These parallels mean nothing except SJM poorly wrote both of these pairings 💔

Truly, I know NOTHING for sure but I hope SJM chooses to do something interesting with these pairs rather then leaving them with weird icky damaging histories and ignoring them. Cant be too sure but I have some hope

#a court of thorns and roses #acotar #nesta archeron #azriel acotar #anti nessian #acotar mor #acotar 6 theories #anti inner circle #pro azriel acotar #pro nesta archeron #maybe this is just my way of saying free Az and Nes

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defectivevillain · 1 year ago

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this broken design, ch7

summary: “Dr. Lecter?” You blink a few times, convinced that you’re dreaming. The man’s gleaming eyes and concerned expression seem a bit too realistic to be conjured by your sleeping mind, though. You’re not sure if you’ve ever seen him look worried. You quickly decide that you don’t like it.

“Hannibal, please,” the doctor responds nonchalantly. You stare at him in utter confusion. Just what is happening right now? You thought you were dreaming, but this feels a bit too vivid. “What are you doing out here?”

read from the beginning here! [this won’t make much sense, otherwise]

ao3 version [the formatting is much better over on ao3, thanks to better html]

i've also made a Spotify playlist if you like listening to music as you read :0

As you pull your car into a parking spot at Hannibal’s office, you are very stressed. After all, you went into work this morning under the assumption that it would be a perfectly normal day, only to find Franklyn Froideveaux’s corpse in your office. To make matters worse, you have an ugly feeling that his death is on your hands. You’ve grown to know the Ripper as you’ve grown to know Hannibal himself, and you have to wonder if the encounter at the opera house pushed him to kill Franklyn. In an ideal world, you probably wouldn’t be voluntarily going to a therapy session with the very same murderer who dumped a corpse in your office. Unfortunately, beggars can’t be choosers.

As you walk up the steps and into the waiting room, you can’t shake the thought that Hannibal’s sudden availability is somewhat unusual. You were under the assumption that the man was fully booked throughout the day. Perhaps he set aside time for you? You quickly stop that thought before it turns into the slippery slope of a logical fallacy you know it to be. As you hover awkwardly in the waiting room, you notice that the space is empty—per usual. However, there’s a strange, unsettling aura clinging to the shadows that the chairs cast on the wall behind them. You frown and fidget restlessly, waiting to be allowed inside. You’re sure Hannibal has given you explicit permission to enter when you please, but you still feel as if the door to his office is an insurmountable obstacle.

“Please, come in.” Hannibal’s voice breaks you out of your thoughts. He’s lingering at the door and holding it open for you. Ever the gentleman, you scoff internally. Per request, you pass through the door, ignoring the strange shiver that goes down your spine as you brush shoulders with him.

As you walk into the space, you’re immediately struck by the feeling that something is different—it doesn’t take you long to realize what it is. The chairs are pushed even closer together than last time. You try not to read into that too much, despite the undeniable knowledge that the distance between them has been shrinking each session. You can’t pinpoint a logical reason for Hannibal to push the chairs. You can think of several illogical explanations, but they’re too far-fetched.

“Is this about Franklyn’s murder?” Hannibal is perceptive, as always. Although, you suppose that's a rather obvious conclusion. Anyone would be startled at the notion of a man turning up dead in their office. Your brief encounter with Franklyn a few days ago continues to run through your mind. Should you have done things differently?

It takes you several moments to make sense of your thoughts. Hannibal graciously waits for you to continue; meanwhile, you spend an immeasurable time pacing around the office restlessly. You can’t sit today—you feel like you’re on the precipice of a big discovery. You walk around in circles over and over again, ignoring Hannibal’s heated gaze. You can feel him staring throughout the entire time you’re pacing.

“Something’s missing,” you choke out, your voice raspy from lack of use. You clear your throat and continue. “I tried to see it through the Ripper’s eyes, but… things were missing. I felt his disgust, contempt, and irritation easily enough. But, there was something else… Something lurking beneath the surface. I tried to get at it, but I couldn’t do it. That’s never happened before.”

“Jack seemed to think the murder was committed out of love.” You must react rather ostentatiously at that, because Hannibal raises a brow. “You seem surprised.” He remarks. There’s a trace of amusement flickering from under his carefully crafted mask.

“He never told me anything along those lines…” You sigh. Hannibal has an intriguing expression on his face, as if he expects you to display more of a reaction. It almost seems as if Hannibal is deliberately trying to cause strife and discord between you and your coworkers. You feel rather uneasy about that realization and you instead decide to dissect Jack’s theory. “And… love? I don’t understand.” The clock on the wall ticks loudly, creating an uneasy monotony.

“I imagine the Ripper feels as if no one understands him,” Hannibal murmurs, leveling you with an intent gaze. It feels as if he’s looking directly into your soul. Vulnerable to his dissecting stare, you take a shuddering breath in. The world around you blurs and all you can see is Hannibal.. “No one… except, perhaps, you.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” you say instinctively. Admittedly, your heart is roaring in your ears. The fireplace against the wall is crackling. You pace around a little more, before finding yourself at Hannibal’s desk. You look down at the surface, unsurprised to find that it’s neatly organized. There’s a piece of parchment with a graphite pencil resting on top of it; you look down and realize that it’s a sketch of Achilles lamenting the death of Patroclus. The more you look at the sketch, the more you’re struck with a strange feeling of familiarity. Those figures don’t look like Achilles and Patroclus… They look like Hannibal and you. Unnerved, you look back at Hannibal and try to find the conversation again. “I mean, I’ve just been making deductions about the Ripper.”

Hannibal looks relaxed, despite the attentive manner in which his eyes follow you around the room. After a few more moments spent pacing about, you give in and take a seat at your designated chair. Hannibal’s eyes are glittering when you look over at him. “Your deductions have been correct so far.” You suppose that’s true.

“Even so, that’s not love; that’s just… understanding.” You trail off. Love is a rather large leap in logic, in your opinion. Surely, the Ripper doesn’t love you.

“To the Ripper, understanding is love,” Hannibal asserts, his lips quirking up at the sides. You’re not sure where he’s finding humor in this situation. Perhaps he’s trying to toy with you. Unfortunately for him, you know that he’s the Ripper. Regardless, it appears as if Hannibal enjoys stringing you along like this. You inhale slowly, trying not to fidget and reveal how restless you truly feel. “You are the first person to see through his facade, through the layers of his mask.”

“Oh,” you remark, suddenly feeling as if you were dumped in a vat of cold water. A shiver rolls down your spine and your skin prickles in the brisk air of the office. You suddenly understand what he’s insinuating. You scramble to find something else to latch on to—a diversion that will take you away from the turn this session has taken. The conversation has turned far too meta for your comfort, and you’re unsure how to tread these tumultuous waters.

“I fear the ordinary mind wouldn’t be able to handle his love,” you find yourself saying, breaking through the tense silence that momentarily descended on the space. Hannibal looks up and stares at you with an inexplicable expression on his face. His mask seems to be fastened to his skin rather tightly today. You, on the other hand, aren’t as composed; you’re currently combatting several different emotions at once. You know you’re on the crux of an important, potentially earth-shattering realization… but you’re too apprehensive to accept it. Instead, you decide to indulge Hannibal. You’ll play his verbal games, dodge the truth for long enough that the falsehoods take life and become reality.

“You’re far from ordinary,” Hannibal murmurs inexplicably. You instinctively stiffen, your shoulders tightening. The remark isn’t exactly unwelcome, but it feels like a diversion from the current conversation. You have to grit your teeth and remind yourself not to snap at him.

“That’s not quite relevant, is it?” You frown, feeling your hackles rising. You subconsciously straighten your posture, if only to take advantage of the few inches of distance it gives you from him. Hannibal leans forward in his chair in response. You feel bolted down to your chair, frozen under a predator’s watchful eye.

“Who can say?” Hannibal asks infuriatingly. That habit of his—answering a question with another question—is really grating on your nerves.

“Do you always have to be so cryptic?” You roll your eyes, trying to pretend as if this is just a playful conversation. There are no stakes here. You’re not risking anything by sitting in this office, across from a practiced killer. “I’m horrible with ambiguity; you’re going to have to be clearer.”

“This killer wrote you a poem,” Hannibal declares. After that remark, you can’t help but think back to Franklyn’s corpse—the grotesque mutilation juxtaposing the bloody tears artfully falling down his face. You loathe the fact that you can see the poetic beauty hidden beneath the gore. “You shouldn’t let his love go to waste.”

“You’re being cryptic again,” you sigh, resisting the urge to grab Hannibal by the collar and just shake him. “Besides, I’d argue that his love has already been wasted on me.” You can’t even let yourself entertain the thought of the Ripper—and, by extension, Hannibal— being in love with you. It’s a cruel joke and nothing more.

“Evidently, he does not think so.” You rub your eyes roughly, feeling the sudden overwhelming urge to cry. You wait a few moments before chancing a glance at Hannibal, only to find that he has a perceptive look on his face. “You are not, nor have you ever been, a waste,” Hannibal remarks, as if sensing the sudden negative turn your thoughts are taking.

“That’s nice of you to say,” you laugh sardonically. The laugh is broken and jagged, and it hurts your throat. You’re unable to get rid of the hysterical grin that is inexplicably tearing at your cheeks. Everything stings and burns. You feel horribly inadequate and vulnerable.

“As your psychiatrist, I’m limited to formalities,” Hannibal admits, clasping his hands and leaning forward. His lips are pulled taut and he almost looks concerned. You have to remind yourself of his caring mask. “As your friend, however, I must say that I care for you deeply and that you are absolutely worth loving.”

“Thanks,” you remark after too many moments of silence. There’s an unshakeable confidence in his voice and you really wish you could replicate it. You wish you could see yourself as anything but a burden. You place your hands over your eyes, feeling incredibly overwhelmed. You feel like you’re slipping, like your grip on reality is slowly slackening. What’s wrong with me? You don’t realize that you’ve spoken aloud until you catch the troubled pull to Hannibal’s lips.

“This world has a lot of wrongs in it, but you are not one of them,” Hannibal asserts quietly. There’s a buzzing sound reverberating through your skull. Your head is pounding, as if you had just delved into your criminal profiling abilities and seen the world through Hannibal’s eyes. You put your hands over your eyes and relish in the brief solace the darkness provides you.

“I’m required to inquire about your wellbeing and safety,” Hannibal remarks. The ensuing silence hits you like a punch to the gut. You keep hoping, waiting for something to happen… but it never does. Why do you still hope? Furthermore, what are you even hoping for? Your doubts are clouding your thoughts, leaving you in a tormented haze of regret, shame, guilt, and grief. Hannibal is required to inquire about your wellbeing and safety—he would not, otherwise. The realization hits you hard, robbing you of breath.

“I’m fine,” you say, repeating the sentiment over and over in your head. Unfortunately, the repetition doesn’t make the feeling any more believable. You pinch the bridge of your nose and take a deep breath. It feels as if the world is crumbling around you. Hannibal’s gaze has yet to leave your face and for the first time, you feel significantly unnerved by the thought. You push yourself to your feet and stand in front of him. Looking down on him doesn’t give you a surge of power in the way you hope it will.

“Pray forgive the discourtesy, but that doesn’t seem to be the case,” Hannibal says, not unkindly. His kindness feels patronizing. You clench your fists at your sides and take a deep breath. Ultimately, you let your guard down too much in front of the psychiatrist. Hannibal is not your friend—he is a working professional who is required to inquire after your wellbeing. No matter how much he may pretend to care, no matter how many opera outings you may share, he is your psychiatrist. It had been easy to forget that in the wake of Hannibal’s constant presence.

“I believe our session is over?” You ask, raising an eyebrow at him and manifesting a sense of confidence that you certainly don’t feel at the moment. Hannibal’s eyes fall down to his wrist and he stares at his watch with furrowed brows.

“Apologies,” he responds. His hand falls to rest on the arm of the chair. Now that the watch has fulfilled its purpose, Hannibal’s gaze is fixated on you again. “I find the time to simply… slip away in your presence.”

You know that if you stay for even a second longer, you’ll give into your foolish hopes. You’ll fall for the cleverly crafted allure that Hannibal has cloaked around himself. You’ll read into every single minute detail, every chivalrous gesture and every warm smile that hides sharpened teeth.

Before you can even begin to contemplate how to dismiss yourself in a socially acceptable manner, your body is moving to leave. You faintly recognize Hannibal asking after you, but you’re exiting the office and closing the door behind you before you can process what he’s saying.

The car ride home passes by in a timeless blur. When you pull your car into your driveway, there’s something that immediately makes itself known to you. There appears to be something taped to your front door. You make sure to exit the car and lock it up before focusing your attention on the piece of paper on your door. Frowning, you take it off and read it.

TattleCrime

The Mark of a Killer: How the FBI’s “Best” Criminal Profiler Killed Franklyn Froideveaux

By Freddie Lounds

A corpse was recently discovered in the office of the FBI’s most prolific criminal profiler; the body was found to be mutilated nearly beyond recognition. The FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit later confirmed the body to be that of Franklyn Froideveaux—who had been presumed missing after a friend reached out to the police in concern.

Froideveaux was dead for several hours upon discovery. Current working theories attribute the murder to the Chesapeake Ripper, and the FBI is insistent on the notion that the Chesapeake Ripper—the dangerous serial killer that mutilates his victims by removing their organs and presumably feasting on them—has returned. However, the victim’s body was found in the office of the same agent that has been consistently embroiled in these murders. Perhaps the consistent practice of “slipping into the mind of a killer” (1) has caused more harm than good. Jack Crawford, head of the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit, maintains that his profiler did not commit this murder. However, the sudden appearance of Froideveaux’s corpse brings up many unanswered questions (2). Furthermore, inside sources claim that there was little to no evidence left at the crime scene.

Crawford is currently heading an investigation into the murder of Froideveaux, alongside the Behavior Analysis Unit—consisting of Beverly Katz, Jimmy Prize, Brian Zeller, and the aforementioned profiler. The FBI is remaining characteristically tight-lipped about the investigation, which naturally prompts many questions surrounding the nature of the murder and the crime scene’s discovery.

“I wouldn’t be surprised,” an anonymous source (3) responds in regards to the culpability of the criminal profiler whose office serves as the scene of the crime. “Jack always had his favorites.” The inside source refused to elaborate further or answer any more questions.

The FBI’s silence has only shed more light onto the possibility that the murder was an inside-job. After all, the headquarters in Quantico are known to be heavily fortified and extremely secure—with tedious security checks and a fully staffed security team. The Chesapeake Ripper seems to be a convenient suspect—he had been presumed inactive for months. However, it’s hard to fathom that the Ripper snuck through the FBI’s headquarters and dumped a body in an agent’s office. An employee or agent, on the other hand, would have the security clearance to roam about the building with relative ease.

For some, the murder of Franklyn Froideveaux comes hand-in-hand with the return of the infamous serial killer, the Chesapeake Ripper; for others, Froideveaux’s murder is yet another secret that the FBI intended to keep hidden from the public eye.

Quote attributed to Jack Crawford, the head of the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit.

The FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit—which houses the aforesaid criminal profiler—did not respond to TattleCrime’s request for further information.

This source elected to remain anonymous.

For inquiries, reach out to [email protected].

If you have more information surrounding the murder of Franklyn Froideveaux or the killer widely known as the Chesapeake Ripper, reach out to [email protected].

You can’t help but let out a disbelieving laugh. A million thoughts are running through your mind simultaneously. Unfortunately, this is far from the first time that you’ve been featured in a TattleCrime piece—especially when the writer is Freddie Lounds (she seems to have a strange vendetta against you). As is typical of TattleCrime, there is hardly anything in the piece that provides hard evidence of your supposed role in Franklyn’s murder. Finally, you have to wonder how Freddie Lounds got all this information. Jack made sure to keep the discovery an internal affair—or, at least, that’s what you thought. It appears there’s a leak somewhere in the bureau. You think back to the look in Zeller’s eyes when he confronted you earlier. He was likely the “anonymous source” that Lounds procured.

Shaking your head, you walk into your house and take off your shoes. While the article alone isn’t enough to irritate you, the events of the day had already left you in a sour mood. Now, this TattleCrime piece is enough to send you over the edge. You crumple the paper up angrily and throw it into the fireplace. Within a few moments, the fireplace roars to life. The article dissipates and burns to ash, but your doubts still remain.

next chapter

#defectivevillain #hannibal x reader #hannibal lecter #Hannibal Lecter x reader #gn reader #male reader #transmasc reader #hannibal nbc #hannibal x male reader #hannibal x gn reader #etc etc

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pico-farad · 2 months ago

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This Time on Yu-Gi-Oh Vrains Analysis: How the Fuck Did Aoi's Writing Get Worse

Got sidetracked by GX Week, but I'm back to talk about Aoi again, because oh boy...

So for season 1, I'd heard the rumors of how they screwed her over, and they were mostly in line with the ways I expect Yugioh female characters to be failed by the writers. Overall I still liked Aoi and, while I found some decisions distasteful, I didn't think the actual quality of her writing was worse than other characters'.

Aoi's writing in season 2 is several times worse than it was in season 1. It's truly a disaster, amateurish and baffling, in a way that I think most viewers don't even consciously realize. And while it may not be the worst moment in Yugioh -- it is, in my opinion, the worst writing I've ever seen in Yugioh.

Anyway, that's how I wrote 4k words descending into Aoi madness. Enjoy!

---

Before I begin, a fair warning: I'm gonna say some harsh things in this post. Because being mean is funny, and I deserve it after what I just watched.

But I also want say up front that I don't think the Vrains writers are bad writers, and I still have respect for them. Writing for children's television is grueling work that I could never do, and there are many reasons why bad art is released into the world besides simple writing skill. Vrains clearly had a troubled production, and I have other suspicions about why it turned out the way it did. If there's interest, I think that could be its own post, too.

Also, I refer to the "writers" in this post when I criticize Vrains's storytelling, but to be clear, directors, producers, storyboarders, and others can have just as much influence over the show's story as writers, or even more so. I use the term writers for convenience's sake.

Without further ado...

⇀ Losing My Mind Immediately

Akira lets Aoi go into the restricted area, which nobody has ever returned from.

Ahem... WHO ARE YOU??? Why is Akira, overprotective onii-san numero uno, extremely willing to put his sister on house arrest for her own safety, has never given Aoi his permission to fight, suddenly letting her go off into a danger zone with a 0% survival rate, right after she lost to Spectre immediately in the Tower of Hanoi conflict.

Oh, so now you think she's capable? Why???

Not only that, they make Ghost Girl be the one to say it's too dangerous for her. What?? Ghost Girl is the one who encouraged Aoi to sneak out and into the danger zone in season 1. These are literally the last two characters who would say these things to Aoi.

Then, when they enter the restricted area, Aoi immediately gives up her emergency logout program to an NPC. Normally I'd brush this off. Naivety being used to emphasize female characters' moral virtuosity is passé, but it's not a big deal. It wouldn't be, if the next 30 seconds didn't make me completely go off the rails. This is the speech that is possibly the worst writing, line by line, that I have ever seen in Yugioh.

Roll the tape...

Aoi: Recent events have taught me that I'm still a child. I took on Hanoi for my brother, but look how that turned out. I troubled everyone, and they needed to save me. I was full of myself, thinking I can do anything on my own, but in truth, the world is full of people and we're all connected. Everyone saved me. So this time, I want to save everyone. I'll become stronger, so this time, I'll do everything I can!

Literally none of these sentences make sense... Half of them aren't even true. It reads like ChatGPT asked to write a shonen speech -- the facade of being inspiring, but ultimately empty and nonsensical.

"I took on Hanoi for my brother," This is blatantly false. She had a whole goddamn episode focused on why she decides to fight Hanoi, it's her duel with Baira, and it's specifically about how she's not doing this for her brother, she's not doing this for herself, she's doing this for everyone. If anything, she disregards her brother in order to fight Hanoi.

Blue Angel: I learned something from my duels. When people believe in you, you're fighting for everyone. So I will fight for everyone from now on!

Sound familiar? It's the same goddamn thing she's saying right now, "this time, I want to save everyone." Why are they framing this as Aoi having a new realization, having learned her lesson? What they demonstrate with this is that Aoi hasn't learned her lesson. The reason she lost to Spectre is because trying to save everyone includes trying to save him, and he takes advantage of her naivety.

Blue Angel: You're the same as me... When you were alone, you sought love, and Blue Angel's blue is the ultimate love! Blue Angel will descend into your heart, and save your soul! Spectre: Really? *bows mockingly* Please, then, save my soul!

Naively trying to save others is exactly what she's doing right now, by thoughtlessly giving away her emergency logout in a place that nobody has ever returned from. Her character has gone completely backwards. I said in my last post that losses are good because we get to see characters grow -- I stand by the opinion that they could have made the Spectre loss work -- but they've bungled it on three different levels. She loses horribly, then they retcon her reason for losing, in order to make her character regress.

Apparently, the real reason Aoi lost to Spectre, is because "she was full of herself, thinking she could do anything on her own." I'm so mad. First of all, Aoi clearly wasn't acting on her own and never thought she was, Go and Yusaku were both fighting Hanoi too. Why are they acting like Aoi lost because of hubris?

You know who thought he could do everything on his own? Yusaku. But clearly he didn't need to learn that "the world is full of people and we're all connected." He clearly believed the opposite, because he did everything by himself and tried to reject allyship at every turn and yet lo and behold, he hasn't lost a single duel.

"Everyone saved me. So this time, I want to save everyone." NO, LITERALLY ONE PERSON SOLO'D HANOI, AND EVERYONE ELSE DID JACK SHIT. This resolution that Aoi comes to not only regresses her character, but it makes no goddamn sense. Who is the everyone you're talking about, Aoi? Are they in the room with us right now?

Who am I kidding, it's obvious who the "everyone" is, because as she says it, the clip that plays is Akira's manpain as Aoi gets turned into data. Because even in this moment that has nothing to do with Akira, the writers cannot resist bending Aoi's character to revolve around how much she loves her beloved onii-san, even though it makes no sense in this context of trying to save a random NPC.

Frankly, the whole "everyone saved me" also makes no sense in the context of trying to save a random NPC. But like, even less sense than that, because the actual context of this "heartfelt" shonen speech is that she's trying to get Ghost Girl to give up her emergency logout button. Ghost Girl, established to be self-serving and willing to throw others under the bus to advance herself. Why does this speech convince her? It doesn't even have anything to do with her.

Great, so now not only have they botched Aoi's character, but for the rest of the show, Ghost Girl is stripped of the characteristics that actually made her engaging.

If they wanted Aoi to convince Ghost Girl to give up her escape program and become more selfless, it's simple. Have her say, "We saved you." Ghost Girl wouldn't be standing here right now, if Aoi and the others hadn't risked everything to save everyone.

There's more I could pick on about these 30 seconds, like how the writers aren't content with handing Aoi a humiliating loss, but they also make her act like she deserved to be "humbled" by that experience: "Recent events have taught me that I'm still a child," "I troubled everyone, and they needed to save me." It's like they're not content with infantilizing her in the narrative, they need to make sure she infantilizes herself.

Which brings me back to the point about Aoi's "hubris." Because what is implied by saying that Aoi lost because of hubris when nothing she said or did suggested that, is that it was hubris for Aoi to fight at all. It was hubris for Aoi, and the audience, to believe she could do anything. Which is just maddening.

And to top it all off, to add insult to indignity to injury to insanity, she finishes her speech by saying, "I'll become stronger! This time, I'll do everything I can!"

AND THEN. SHE LOSES. IN THE NEXT EPISODE.

This speech reads like a bad influencer apology. First they "admit" their mistake (that Blue Angel didn't do anything in the Hanoi fight), then they deflect and change the story about what actually happened (it's because she was being full of herself! That's definitely why she lost), and finally they promise to do better (don't worry, this season, Aoi will get stronger and get some wins!), but they don't.

I can talk more about how the writers give Aoi shallow girlboss speeches instead of actually demonstrating her strength in duels, but that will come when I talk about Blue Maiden.

Right now... it's time to talk about Blue Girl vs. Soulburner.

⇀ What's in a re-introductory duel?

Something that's pretty standard in Yugioh is the concept of the season 2 "re-introductory duel." Think Shou's promotion duel in GX, the filter episodes that came before the World Grand Prix arc started, the Sector Security battle royale in Arc-V. They can be story-relevant, or completely filler, but the point is to re-familiarize you with the main supporting characters. If you look at the first 10 episodes of a Yugioh season 2, you'll generally see all the main supporting characters represented in a duel. And if they aren't, it may reveal something about how relevant they are to the writers (Misawa GX, Ruka 5D's, Yuzu Arc-V...)

Go gets his re-introductory duel against Soulburner, and though I have my issues with how they handled Go in Season 2, which I went into in my previous post, it succeeds in every way a re-introductory duel should. It addresses the transition of his character between seasons, sets up his conflict for this season, introduces his new cards, adds character to Soulburner, and establishes a dynamic between the two. Their opposition is natural, and if anything, the season fails to capitalize on how well this duel set things up.

Aoi's re-introductory duel... is also against Soulburner. And their opposition... uh...

Look, I'll be frank, there is only one reason for Soulburner to duel Aoi, his third duel already in 10 episodes: they are fast-tracking him into main character slot #2. I talked about this in the Soulburner analysis.

Aoi and Soulburner have no reason to be fighting, this match-up is completely artificial. They went "well Aoi needs to get a re-introductory duel because that's the Yugioh formula, and Soulburner needs more screentime, so let's shove them together," regardless of how it doesn't make narrative sense. How do they do that?

Blue Girl: We came to find the Ignis. SOL-- I mean, my brother can help you. Soulburner: You don't understand. The Lost Incident made us suffer for a long time. SOL Technologies was partly responsible for that. Entrust our future to them? Thanks, but we'll solve our own problems. Blue Girl: *frowning* In that case, those Ignis originally belonged to SOL Technologies. Give them back. Soulburner: What?

This is completely out of character for her. She knows that they're victims of the Lost Incident, she knows what they've been through, and they've just told her they're trying to save someone whose consciousness was stolen. She just said that her motivation is saving people, specifically to pay back the people who saved her. Guess who the only person who saved you was, Aoi? It wasn't your onii-san.

It would've made more sense for Ghost Girl to duel Soulburner. She's the one who was established to be a self-serving bounty hunter in Season 1. Oh, but if you gave Ghost Girl a re-introductory duel, it might give off the wrong impression that she's relevant?

This duel doesn't even add anything to Soulburner's character either, the way that Soulburner vs. Go did.

What could they have done if they were actually thinking about Aoi?

How about Aoi vs. Akira? Akira tells her that if she can beat him in a duel, he'll believe that she's strong enough to go into the restricted zone. Or they could do Aoi vs. Ghost Girl -- same thing, Ghost Girl tells Akira that if Aoi wins, it proves she's equally capable of going on this mission.

Either of these would check all the boxes for a re-introductory duel. It's a memorable matchup, it re-establishes the personalities and (IN-CHARACTER) relationships of these three, and it addresses the transition between seasons -- we left off from Aoi's devastating loss, and this duel would bridge her into an upwards character arc in Season 2.

Of course, if they did that, they would have to make an upwards character arc for Aoi.

These two episodes have succeeded in the exact opposite of what a re-introductory episode is supposed to do. It's a garbage fire of bad writing. They regress her character, and call it progress. She's out of character, in order to be unsympathetic. They don't set up an arc for Aoi this season, because they haven't thought of one. They introduce new cards that never come back. But none of it matters anyway, because Aoi isn't actually important! We'll just make up something new the next time we're contractually obligated to give her a few episodes (but not too many, god forbid!)

I guess there's one part of her character they make consistent, which is making her lose in the worst ways possible.

⇀ Blue Girl vs. Soulburner

You know how in my last Aoi post, I said that it's good when characters lose duels, and that "X should have won that duel" is a comment that often misunderstands how outcomes are about narrative purpose rather than deck matchups?

Forget everything I said. Aoi ABSOLUTELY should have won that duel holy shit. I just witnessed a goddamn crime.

So there is actually one more reason that Soulburner duels Aoi. It's that it's a good concept for a duel. Aoi should annihilate Soulburner. Go ahead with your 72 step Salamangreat combo I dare you. Go ahead and use Burning Draw I dare you. Everyone likes seeing how the underdog comes out of a pinch, and if I came out of the duel thinking, "Wow, I can't believe Soulburner pulled that off!" I could have forgiven it.

Ha ha... wow..... I can't believe Soulburner pulled that off......

I'm not usually that bothered by hyper specific made up anime cards, but what the fuck is that trap that negates effect damage under 300. Countering exactly 1) Skull Invitation 2) Ojama Trio 3) Every one of Aoi's cards. Yeah okay, fuck you Aoi.

And Aoi still should have won, if Soulburner didn't one-up Aoi's own Fusion Summon by Burning Draw YOLO topdecking a fucking Salamangreat Super Poly out of nowhere. Why??? Because the scripter couldn't think of a way out of the situation other than copying one of the strongest cards ever designed?? Fuck you Aoi.

Even Ghost Girl knows how robbed she was.

It's salt on the wound to cap off her "I'll get stronger speech" by having her lose a duel that was 99-1 in her favor. Soulburner deletes her life points in one attack, she screams and gets slammed into a cliff, and Soulburner stands over her and says, "Blue Girl, you're stronger than before."

Jesus, just look at that condescending framing.

Aoi doesn't show up again in a relevant capacity for 20 episodes, and doesn't have another duel for 30 -- that's a quarter of Vrains. Her last words as Soulburner stands over her are "You won because of the bond between a duelist and an AI?" before she passes out.

This, I suppose, is their weak attempt at introducing a plot for Aoi this season. It's... well...

⇀ Aqua and Miyu

The Miyu backstory is lazy as hell.

I'm sorry to all the fans rooting for female characters and wlw ships, but this writing was unbelievably sloppy. Someone put "Aoi's childhood friend was a victim of the Lost Incident and that's how she gets the Water Ignis" into the show notes and then didn't think about it until it was time to write the episode.

Miyu is not a cardboard cutout. She's not cut from cardstock, both of those at least have structural integrity. Miyu has the character solidness of wet tissue. She's an NPC, a parody of a generic little girl. The only reason to care about her is if you buy into the cheap writing shortcut of damselling little girls, or you're a desperate lesbian. I'm sorry, lesbians.

They could have done anything to give Miyu an actual character, I'm not asking for a lot. Give her any kind of trait or interest -- maybe she loves the ocean and shows Aoi her collection of seashells, and she says they should go to the beach together one day but they never do. They could talk about idols, and maybe that's what inspires Aoi to later become one. They could talk about Duel Monsters, it's Yugioh for christsake. A playground duel would be adorable.

There's a million things they could have done that are more compelling than playing on the slide, but there's one that's so obvious it pains me.

The Blue Angel picture book. The one that Aoi said was her childhood treasure in the duel with Spectre, the one that motivated her to try and save him, a victim of the Lost Incident. The book that's an established part of her backstory, which made her take on the Blue Angel moniker. The book that's about a girl who is all alone until she makes friends and no longer has to cry blue tears.

Could it be more obvious? Have Miyu be the one who gave the book to Aoi. It's a backstory on a silver platter. If the writers cared about Aoi at all, if they didn't immediately forget every single thing about her the second they turn in the script for the contractually obligated Aoi episodes, they would know this. But they don't. Because even the Blue Angel picture book was clearly something they made up on the spot.

Imagine if Aoi's season 2 climax duel was vs. a controlled Miyu (à la Jin), the themes from the Spectre duel returned. Aoi questions if she really can save someone from the Lost Incident, or if it's just her own naivety, destined to be crushed over and over. But she breaks through, because this time it's her turn to save someone who's all alone. This is how you connect seasons 1 and 2, this is how you take a loss and turn it into a payoff. We can even get Spectre's perspective, he's there in the final fight.

But that's not what we get. Instead, they play on the slide, and then Miyu drops a ring down a drain, which I guess is what they think is a relatable cause of conflict for little girls. I can guarantee they would have come up with something more substantive if these were two male characters. And the pacing is just comically clunky. "Aoi-chan, look, it's my mother's ring! Isn't it pretty? Oh no, I dropped it! Wahhhhh!"

Aoi lies to Miyu's mom and says she's the one who dropped the ring, even though Miyu denies it vehemently, clearly crying and in great distress as her mother drags her away and never lets her see Aoi again.

This, we're told, is how Aoi "saved" Miyu.

Aqua: While she was imprisoned, you kept her strong, Aoi. No matter how many duels she lost, no matter how much pain she endured, even after her meals were reduced, she never broke and promised to escape. So she could see you again and apologize for that day.

.........APOLOGIZE FOR WHAT???

What the fuck kind of message is this supposed to be? Aqua is supposed to be the Ignis of TRUTH, why are she and Miyu glorifying Aoi's lie as some courageous, inspirational action, when clearly it did nothing but harm? I'm not crazy, am I? The obvious takeaway from this flashback is that even if you had good intentions lying to protect your friend, it caused miscommunication, distress, and led to their friendship breaking apart? Like, their lives would have been just fine if Aoi didn't lie, and Miyu learned a reasonable lesson about not being careless with other people's expensive objects?

This backstory is comically bad. Just imagine Miyu, going through kidnapping, starvation, and torture, sustained only by the thought that one day... she can tell the girl that she played on the slide with years ago... that she's so sorry... that her hand slipped when taking off a ring and it rolled into a drain 5 feet away.

The story would make more sense if it was me in the Lost Incident, and I was plagued by guilt over dumping Cheeto crumbs on Rachel from Pre-K, because at least I actually did something bad.

It's difficult to even articulate how much all these sloppy writing decisions compound on each other. Because they wasted Aoi's introductory episodes and didn't set up anything for her, she has no role in the story for 30 episodes. Because she was given nothing for 30 episodes, they have to shove an entire backstory for Aoi into one episode. Because they shoved the backstory into one episode, Miyu and Aoi's relationship with her are painfully rushed, generic, and flimsy. Because their relationship is so flimsy, this whole backstory, Aoi's motivation to fight, her entire season 2 plotline, is soulless garbage.

Aoi didn't remember Miyu until this episode. The writers didn't create Miyu until this episode. You cannot ask the audience to be invested in Aoi rescuing Miyu, when you don't even care enough to conceptualize her.

And this is the most damning conclusion of this post. The writers don't care about Miyu. And they don't care about Aoi. And they don't care if you care about them. You weren't meant to care about them.

Again, I'm not saying that the Vrains writers are bad writers, or they hate women. There are other factors to consider, like the specifics of gender relations in Japan, how Yugioh animes primarily exist to advertise trading cards to young boys, the fact that there has not been a single female writer on Yugioh since season 2 of GX. And obviously, Vrains had production issues, and every character suffered from flawed writing.

But my point is, Aoi suffered the most for it.

⇀ Final Thoughts

There's a lot more that I could say about Aoi for the rest of the show. Like how she gets a magical girl transformation sequence, only to be irrelevant for 10 episodes again, and we have to wait that entire time to see her new deck. Then the duel, which really needed to be a two-episoder, is about Haru instead. The pointlessness of the Bohman duel. The pointlessness of Yusaku's "identity reveal" to Aoi. How they needed to have a third and fourth Akira manpain scene as Aoi is "taken away" from him, though I guess in that last one Aoi gets to have some girlpain too.

I did plan to talk about each of these duels, and more about how I would do an Aoi vs. Miyu conflict, but this post has gotten way out of hand already, and I've made the points I wanted to make.

I hope it was cathartic for everyone who was disappointed with Aoi, and perhaps gave language to people who were frustrated but unable to articulate why. I did some research into what other people have said about Aoi's character, such as this video by YugiohEverything, but I find that a lot of discourse in Yugioh is not very good at pinpointing why something works or doesn't work, and the actual skill of writing is oversimplified. This is especially true when it comes to Yugioh girls, and criticisms tend to fall back on losing duels or getting put in a coma, and while those can suck, they aren't the real problem.

In my last Aoi post I said "I'll just have to hope that they don't fumble whatever new thing they give her... but things tend to get bleaker for female Yugioh characters as the show goes on and whatever initial involvement they had in the story fizzles out," and this, I think, has been the real problem persistently for Yugioh girls. The writers are contractually obligated to come up with something when a series is first pitched, but when that period is up, or when concessions have to be made, the female characters are the first to be forgotten.

I just didn't think it would be this bad for Aoi.

Well. Expectations lowered.

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First Aoi analysis

All Vrains season analysis

#if you read the whole thing you a real one #yugioh vrains #vrains season analysis #aoi zaizen #ygo #pico commentary

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