#there is the one person that i've already seen how they work

[chaos-in-deepspace]

Sylus Monster Dick Agenda: The Facts + Dragon Sylus Mating Headcanons (at the end)

Alright, so you saw Sylus is now a dragon. Awesome. Beautiful. Now I've already seen people discussing him having hemipeens and I wanna come on here and explain how they'd actually be working. It's fine if you make headcanons on how his dick would be (and if you do please state they're a headcanon), but if you're gonna be a monster fucker who wants to fuck actual hemipeens, make sure you've done research on how they work.

Warnings: Non Human Dicks, Facts about animal penises and mating, biting, dick hooks, mating seasons, slightly possessive Sylus in the headcanons.

Disclaimer: I did a lot of research for this, however I understand that sometimes there can be mistakes. If anyone breeds snakes or lizards, owns them, or anything of the sort and you notice something is inaccurate, please inform me. I'll happily update this post. I want to be as accurate as possible, but as I don't personally own reptiles, I could only go off research and the information my friend gave me who owns snakes.

Hemipeens:

So obviously there's a lot of different reptiles out there, and their hemipeens are generally in the same wheelhouse, but with the sheer amount of species out there, it's impossible to cover them all in a quick post explaining how to write them in your erotica. We're going to be focusing on lizards for this, because they're the closest to a traditional western dragon which is what Sylus appears to be (if you wanted to do a more traditional Chinese based dragon, they'd be somewhat more akin to a snake and lizard hybrid) I'll also briefly cover a snake's though, just in case.

Lizard Hemipeens: A lizards hemipeens (focusing on bearded dragons) are normally more lobed in appearance. They're shorter but, in comparison to the rest of the body, are large in shape.

Lizard Hemipeens: Have spikes or ridges on them that help secure the female during mating, They're not extremely sharp, but if the male is being too rough during mating, or it takes too long, it can definitely cause discomfort. However, keep in mind, this is when mating with another female lizard, which have adapted to be more resilient. If it was a human, it could be a different story.

Lizard Hemipeens: Are stored in a cloaca when not mating. It's a flexible muscular structure to house the hemipeens. When mating, the hemipeens turn everted (inside out).

Lizard Hemipeens: Sit side by side, and have a small space between them. They aren't just like two dicks next to one another. They also vary in appearance, but most of the time they're more tubular.

Lizard Hemipeens: Are only out during the mating process. In fact, if they're out for too long it can cause a prolapse.

Snake Hemipeens: Generally more elongated and looks more like a cylinder. Snakes have more of a need for longer insertion in order to breed their mate, unlike a lizard.

Snake Hemipeens: Also often have the small hooks or spines to help keep their mate in place. Just like lizards, these don't often cause injury in the female unless it's too rough or mating takes too long.

Snake Hemipeens: Other than the little hooks or spines, a lot of species hemipeens are more smooth, however species like a boa or python have more texture to them.

Snake Hemipeens: Tend to have a more forked appearance on each of the hemipeens on the end. The hemipeens are also closer together on the body, but still sit side by side.

Snake Hemipeens: Are houses in the cloaca, like the lizards and a lot of other reptiles.

Key Differences: Lizard hemipeens tend to have have small ridges or spines, while snake hemipeens may have hooks or spiny structures.

Key Differences: Lizard hemipeens tend to be flatter and more lobed, whereas snake hemipeens are more cylindrical and elongated.

Key Differences: Snake hemipeens are generally longer and more narrow than the shorter, more compact hemipeens of most lizards.

Mating Seasons

In general, reptiles will mate when the weather is warmer. During the cold months they tend to be more lethargic. Of course in captivity this can change, but overall, you're looking at spring and summer for mating.

Lizards: Tend to mate in the spring when it's warming up.

Snakes: Will normally mate in spring or summer once they get out of brumation (a period of dormancy similar to hibernation for cold-blooded animals), Generally they'll go into their mating season right after brumation.

Mating Behaviors

Keep in mind, during mating, Lizards and snakes only use ONE of their hemipeens for mating. It depends on the positioning of their mate when they mount them. Sometimes if the "run out of juice" they can use the other hemipeen as a last resort.

Lizards: Will become more territorial and aggressive towards other males during mating season.

Lizards: Males will often slightly change color during mating season, bob their heads, and wave their arms to attract female mates.

Lizards: Mating is normally kept shorter, only being a couple minutes long.

Lizards: Can scent during mating, but it's a secondary thing. They rely more on visuals.

Lizards: Will sometimes bite during mating in order to lock the female into place.

Snakes: Male snakes will compete with other males for the mate, often fighting, wrestling, etc.

Snakes: Will leave scent trails for their mates and vibrate their tails to attract females.

Snakes: Mating can take a few minutes to a few hours.

Snakes: Rely heavily on scents during mating. They have the Jacobsen's organ on the roof of their mouth that allows them to pick on on other snake's pheromones.

Snakes: Biting in snakes is more common during mating, and can happen before and during copulation.

OKAY! So that's just a fucking rundown on anatomy and mating habits. Now how to incorporate this into your monster fucker stuff for Sylus.

Writing Dragon Sylus Dicks

Sylus as a character has shown to be very caring towards the MC, so I don't think he would ever purposefully harm her. So during mating these are some things I can see happening (Disclaimer: all these are headcanons based off facts on reptile anatomy and mating behaviors):

Dragon Sylus: Would scent his mate and the area around her, even if MC doesn't understand why or can't smell it at all, it would put him at ease.

Dragon Sylus: Would be more gentle with biting as to not cause serious injury to MC. He might break the skin slightly, but overall they'd be very shallow.

Dragon Sylus: Would be a bit more territorial of MC and try to keep her away from other males only during mating season. During the other times he'd allow MC full autonomy. If MC stated she didn't appreciate it, he would explain the reasoning so she'd understand the difference in species.

Dragon Sylus: Would only fuck MC with one of the hemipeens and be gentle so the hooks or ridges don't cause harm. Would do several check ins to make sure she's okay.

Dragon Sylus: Could hypothetically go for several rounds depending if he's more lizard or snake like, but would be reading MC's body language and words to know if she'd be able to handle it.

Dragon Sylus: Would be the king of aftercare. He'd patch up any wounds he inflicted to prevent infection, make sure MC is fed and taken care of, and if it was uncomfortable he would try to find a balm or numbing cream and now fuck MC for days until she's fully recovered, and only then he'll touch her if she gives him the 'okay'.

I mainly had to write this because I saw a post about someone saying the hemipeens would both excrete different things (one would be a numbing agent, the other is cum). Also how at the end it would glue the vaginal canal shut essentially which is such a non-con thing. Can you imagine if that happened? Infection? Death. Just so another male can't go in. It made no sense. Everyone is free to have their own headcanons, but please STATE IT AS SUCH.

And if you're going to have a rough Sylus who fucks MC and harms her during the process, fucking tag your shit. That is a Non-Con situation, and nobody on here has been tagging their Non-Con Sylus content. Tag it. Warn about it. TAG YOUR SHIT PROPERLY!!!

But ya, there you go. How it would logically work for a Dragon Sylus smut.

[thetadispatcher]

Strasky glanced at Rook then back to Peter, they were nearly the same person if not for a few minor differences. Strasky knew he couldn't do the same type of work Peter was, nor would he be comfortable with it, but he had a feeling that was just due to his personal experiences. "Sometimes it feels more like I attract troublesome things, but I can live with that." He felt nothing would ever live up to what he'd experienced on PATHOS-II, so he was fine with whatever mess he found himself in. "And there's nothing wrong with being friendly, that's the best way to meet very interesting people." Or in Peter's case it was androids mainly if the home's residents were anything to go by.

But neither Strasky nor Peter felt like speaking on the subject with each other as they both still found it odd and a little unsettling to think they were practically the same person. And Peter had made it clear to Strasky he wasn't ready to approach the subject with how quickly he'd brushed it off and found something to busy himself, something he recognized as a tactic to prevent any possible thoughts on the subject by means of a distraction that took most of his attention.

"Shouldn't be too hard to reformat them so they can operate on an android's brain. I'd just have to see the one first." Peter paused as he noticed Strasky react to what he'd said, something which he felt was a little concerning but he wasn't going to comment on it yet, not until he had more information.

"But I have worked on enough custom and limited release androids to say that building one from scratch wouldn't be an issue." He had managed to get his hands on the equipment necessary to build custom parts for androids, so thankfully he wouldn't have to rely on any outside help from any former Cyberlife employees for the parts.

Dan and Peter both turned to look at Nines when Willow mentioned the authorities, the RK900 glanced at them before his LED turned yellow and his eyes took on a far away look. The LED returned to a calm blue after a moment as he refocused on the two looking at him. "I have found no law that prohibits what is being requested. So the work would be perfectly legal." Nines responded to the unasked question, knowing that was the reason they'd turned to look at him.

"Even if it wasn't, it probably wouldn't be the worst illegal thing I've done." Peter giggled as he turned his attention back to Dan who gave him a knowing look. "Tricking a Cyberlife employee and buying an android at fourteen is probably way more illegal then sticking a digital brain into an android." He smiled at Dan as he hugged the PL600's head, the android gently patting his arm in response.

"He really means a lot... How come?" Strasky asked, he decided it was time he asked as the relationship between the two was clearly familial, but he couldn't figure out just what role Dan fit into in Peter's mind.

"Well, I may call the androids here my friends, I only call two my brothers. Dan is one of them, basically the older brother I didn't know I wanted." Peter answered happily, showing he really didn't have an issue with putting an android into such a special role as most humans would. "Sure, Dan's only four years old, but he's way more of an older brother then a younger one."

Strasky nodded, he knew there was more to the story of how and why Dan was acquired, he just wasn't sure if anyone else cared to know so he decided not to press further. But after all he had seen with the relationship between androids and humans, he was happy to see one where both felt like they were equals.

"Cyberlife has already done something kinda like what you're probably thinking anyways. GV200 looks exactly like Kamski's half brother Gavin, his entire existence was basically being made in the hopes of Gavin running into him and getting upset about it. Which never happened before the company that owned him had him junked, turns out Gavin doesn't travel by plane like Kamiski thought. But I fixed him up, with Kamski's help as the parts were custom and that was my first time dealing with that." Peter sneered at the mention of working with Kamski, Dan had a similar reaction which made it clear the man hadn't made a very good impression with them.

"Getting accused of being the one to make him was not fun... Thankfully, Gavin believed me when I told him who had actually done it so he's only gone off on me for it the one time. Guess I should've known something was up when Kamski showed up after I placed the parts order, but it's hard to tell what the face of an android with no skin looks like until you turn them on." Nines smirked a bit at Peter's mention of Gavin's behavior, showing he had some level of experience with it.

Well, it was good to know they were going to meet even more androids by just being in Peter's immediate vicinity. At least so far only one seemed fine attacking strangers on sight, even though Bishop wasn't too keen on trusting Nines' either after the poor state he showed up in.

And knowing there was another nearly identical more deranged android around they hadn't met yet didn't please Bishop either. So he stood back with his arms crossed, keeping an eye out in case somebody else felt like joining them.

"It's funny, isn't it? You meet a whole new guy, but it's still you!" Rook said while giving Strasky an encouraging pat on the shoulder, "It looks like you guys have a thing for getting in trouble. But it's clear you're good at making friends too."

"Rook is something of an expert on the topic. However, we have more pressing matters to tend to." Willow chimed in, "To answer your question, it will indeed be custom work, but fortunately time isn't a concern."

"Yeah. We just want to know if you can put a construct into an android so they won't be stuck being formless entities anymore." Rook said with a shrug, "Those guys could really use having bodies again."

"You would be paid accordingly, both for the work itself and for the risk of taking part in such a project." A possibly illegal one, though Willow simply glanced at Dan instead of mentioning it out loud, "And we'd be thankful if none of this was mentioned to the authorities, or to Cyberlife, lest they start having more ideas they would come to regret later on."

[theonottsbxtch]

COURAGE | OP81

an: i warn you ahead of time this faces the topic of substance abuse, if you or anyone you know needs help, please feel free to talk to me or here are links for who to talk to: united kingdom, united states, canada, europe. these are some of the links i've found, if you need help searching for one, my inbox is always open!

warnings: substance abuse, religous themes, mentions of death & hospitals.

wc: 4.6k

The church bells rang out over the small town of Willow Creek, their low hum rolling through the autumn air like a solemn hymn. Oscar stood at the edge of his front porch, adjusting the cuffs of his Sunday shirt as he waited for her. He always waited for her.

She emerged moments later from her house next door, pulling her shawl tighter against the chill. The hem of her modest dress caught the breeze, brushing against her knees as she approached. She didn’t say much, she never did on Sundays. Her gaze, solemn and steady, flicked toward the church steeple visible from the end of the street.

“Ready?” Oscar asked, though he already knew the answer.

She nodded, her braid catching the sunlight as they started down the gravel path.

The girl was his best friend, his constant, the one person in this quiet town who felt as real to him as the chipped paint on his window frame or the threadbare pews at St. Anne’s.

Their routine was always the same: church in the morning, quiet afternoons spent sitting on his porch or hers, talking about scripture or nothing at all. It was an existence that felt safe and good, built on a foundation as steady as the faith they shared.

But something had shifted in her lately. He couldn’t place it, not exactly. She still walked with him to church. She still bowed her head during the prayers, her lips moving silently along with the hymns. But her eyes were somewhere else, distant and restless, as though her thoughts had wandered too far and couldn’t find their way home.

“I heard Father O’Connell mention the youth retreat next month,” Oscar said, breaking the silence as they neared the church steps. “He said he’s hoping for a big turnout this year. Are you thinking of going?”

She hesitated. The pause was brief, but it was there, and Oscar caught it like a pebble in his shoe.

“Maybe,” she said, her voice quieter than usual. Then she offered him a faint smile, the kind that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “We’ll see.”

Oscar didn’t press her. He never did. But as they entered the church, he couldn’t help but notice the way her hand lingered at the edge of her shawl, clutching it like a tether.

It started with small things.

Oscar didn’t think much of it when she skipped their afternoon talks one Sunday. Her mum had said she wasn’t feeling well, and that made sense. People got sick; life happened. But then she missed the next Sunday, too. And the one after that.

She stopped coming to the Wednesday youth group meetings at church, which was even stranger. For as long as he could remember, she’d been one of the first to volunteer for scripture readings or help organise bake sales. Now, her name wasn’t even on the signup sheets.

Oscar wanted to ask her about it, but he couldn’t figure out how. It wasn’t like they had a friendship built on confrontation. They’d grown up side by side in the same pews, their lives as intertwined as the ivy creeping up the churchyard walls. But it was a quiet bond, one where words weren’t always necessary.

That’s what made the silence feel so loud.

One Friday afternoon, after work, Oscar saw her for the first time in weeks. She was sitting on the front steps of her house, legs crossed, the heel of her shoe tapping a restless rhythm against the wood.

“Hey,” he called as he approached, hands in his pockets. “Haven’t seen you around.”

She looked up, her expression unreadable. “Yeah, I’ve been busy.”

Busy. The word felt wrong coming from her, like a puzzle piece jammed into the wrong spot.

“Your mum said you were sick,” he said, testing the waters.

Her eyes flickered, just for a moment. “Yeah. That too.”

He leaned against the porch railing, watching her closely. There was something different about her, but he couldn’t pin it down. Her braid was still neat, her dress still modest, but the way she sat—loose, almost careless—was unfamiliar.

“You coming to youth group next week?” he asked, trying to keep his tone light.

She shrugged. “Probably not.”

“Why not?”

She looked at him then, really looked at him, and he felt like she was seeing through him instead of at him.

“Just not my thing right now,” she said, and there was an edge to her voice he didn’t recognise.

Oscar frowned. “You’ve been going for years.”

“Yeah, well,” she said, standing abruptly. “People change.”

And just like that, she disappeared inside, leaving Oscar alone on the porch with the sound of her footsteps echoing in his ears.

Over the next few weeks, Oscar saw less and less of her. When he did see her, she wasn’t the same.

The first time he noticed the guy, it was at the diner on Main Street. She was sitting in a booth near the window, her back to him, but he recognised her laugh instantly. She wasn’t alone.

The guy was tall, older, with a leather jacket slung over the back of his chair. He leaned in close when he talked to her, his hand brushing her arm like it was the most natural thing in the world. Oscar stood outside the diner for a long time, watching them through the glass.

When she turned her head and laughed again, Oscar caught a glimpse of her face. There was something wild in her expression, something unrestrained and electric. It scared him.

He didn’t tell her he’d seen her. He wasn’t sure why.

But the next Sunday, when her mum stopped him on his way to church, the worry in her eyes told him she’d seen it too.

“Have you talked to her?” her mum asked, her hands clasped tightly in front of her. “She’s… I don’t know what’s going on with her. She won’t talk to me.”

Oscar didn’t know what to say.

“I’m sure it’s just a phase,” he offered weakly.

Her mum smiled, but it was the kind of smile people gave at funerals.

“I hope so,” she said.

The next time Oscar saw her, it wasn’t at church or on her front porch. It was behind the convenience store on Elm Street, just after dusk.

He had been walking home, the kind of mindless stroll he often took when his thoughts got too loud. The streets were mostly empty, the only sounds the faint hum of a streetlamp and the crunch of gravel beneath his shoes.

He heard her before he saw her. Laughter—sharp, jagged, and nothing like the laugh he remembered. It came from the alley behind the store, followed by the low murmur of voices.

Oscar turned the corner, and there she was.

She leaned against the brick wall, her arms crossed loosely over her chest, a cigarette dangling from her fingers. The glow of the lighter in the guy’s hand caught her face just long enough for Oscar to see the hollow beneath her eyes, the strange way her smile curled at the edges, like she wasn’t entirely sure it belonged there.

The guy was the same one from the diner, older and out of place in this small town. He said something to her, and she threw her head back in laughter, her voice ringing out into the quiet night.

Oscar froze. She looked so different. Her braid was gone, her hair loose and tangled, framing a face that seemed sharper, thinner. Her clothes were casual but careless, like she’d grabbed the first things within reach. She didn’t look like the girl he’d grown up with—the girl who bowed her head in prayer and scolded him when he skipped scripture reading. She looked like someone else entirely.

The guy noticed Oscar first. He smirked, nudging her with his elbow. “Friend of yours?”

She turned her head, her smile fading when she saw him. For a moment, something flickered in her expression—guilt, maybe, or shame—but it was gone as quickly as it came.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, her voice sharper than he expected.

“I could ask you the same thing,” he said, his throat dry.

She rolled her eyes and took a drag from the cigarette, exhaling smoke into the cold air. “It’s none of your business, Oscar.”

“It is my business,” he said, stepping closer. “You’re my friend.”

She laughed, but it was a brittle sound, lacking any real warmth. “Yeah, well, friends don’t follow each other around like lost puppies.”

Oscar felt the words like a slap, but he didn’t back down. “This isn’t you,” he said quietly. “What are you doing with him?”

The guy smirked again, clearly enjoying the tension. “Relax, man. She’s fine.”

“No one asked you,” Oscar snapped, his voice louder than he intended.

The guy raised his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. I’ll leave you two to it.” He handed her the lighter, brushing her fingers with his in a way that made Oscar’s stomach turn, and walked off down the alley.

She didn’t look at Oscar right away. Instead, she stared at the lighter in her hand, turning it over like it was a puzzle she couldn’t solve.

“I’m fine,” she said finally, her voice softer but still distant. “You don’t have to worry about me.”

“You’re not fine,” Oscar said, his frustration bubbling over. “You’ve stopped coming to church. You won’t talk to your mum. And now you’re…” He trailed off, gesturing helplessly toward the cigarette still in her hand.

She sighed, tilting her head back against the wall. “I don’t need a lecture, okay? I get enough of that at home.”

“I’m not trying to lecture you,” he said, his voice cracking. “I just… I don’t understand. Why are you doing this?”

Her gaze flicked to his, and for a brief moment, he saw something raw in her eyes—pain, anger, maybe even fear. But then she blinked, and the mask was back.

“Maybe I’m tired of being the perfect little Catholic girl,” she said, her tone light but cutting. “Did you ever think of that?”

Oscar stared at her, searching for the girl he knew beneath the stranger in front of him. “This isn’t you,” he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper.

She pushed off the wall, brushing past him. “Maybe you never really knew me.”

And just like that, she was gone, leaving him standing alone in the alley, the faint scent of smoke lingering in the air.

That night, Oscar lay awake, staring at the cracks in his ceiling. He wanted to help her, to pull her out of whatever dark place she’d fallen into, but he didn’t know how. She wouldn’t let him.

For the first time in years, he prayed not for himself, but for her.

“God,” he whispered into the stillness of his room. “Please. Bring her back.”

It became a pattern.

Oscar would see her slipping further away, each time a little less like the girl he had grown up with and a little more like a stranger. Sometimes it was behind the convenience store. Other times he saw her stumbling out of a car that didn’t belong in their quiet town, the headlights cutting through the dark as it sped off, leaving her swaying on the curb.

She wasn’t hiding it anymore.

When their paths crossed now, she barely looked at him. Her words, when she offered any, were short and cold, like she was daring him to stop caring. But he couldn’t stop.

So he prayed.

Every night, he knelt by his bed, his hands clasped tightly together, his eyes shut so hard it hurt. He prayed for her to come back, for her to see what she was doing to herself. He prayed for the strength to find the right words, the right actions, anything to pull her out of this spiral. But every morning, when he saw her again—laughing too loud, her eyes bloodshot and empty—it felt like no one was listening.

One night, well past midnight, there was a knock on his window. He woke with a start, his heart pounding, and stumbled to open it. She was standing there, her hair tangled and wild, her face streaked with something he couldn’t tell if it was makeup or tears.

“You need to stop,” she said, her voice slurred but venomous.

“Stop what?” he asked, his voice barely audible.

“Praying for me,” she snapped. “I know you’re doing it. Just… stop.”

Her words stung, but what hurt more was the way she looked at him—like he was the enemy. Before he could respond, she turned and disappeared into the night, leaving him standing in the cold.

A week later, it was her mum who knocked—not on his window, but on his door.

Oscar opened it to find her standing on the porch, her face pale and drawn, her eyes red from crying. She looked older than he’d ever seen her, like the weight of the world had settled on her shoulders and wouldn’t let go.

“Hi, Ms,” he said, stepping aside to let her in.

She didn’t move. Instead, she stood there, clutching the edge of her sweater like it was the only thing keeping her together. “Oscar,” she began, her voice trembling. “I didn’t know who else to come to.”

He felt his stomach sink. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s her,” she said, her voice cracking. “She’s… I don’t know what’s happening to her. She barely comes home anymore. And when she does…” She broke off, pressing a hand to her mouth.

Oscar didn’t need her to finish. He’d seen it all himself.

“I’ve tried talking to her,” Her mother continued, her words spilling out in a rush. “I’ve begged her to stop, to come back to church, to tell me what’s going on, but she won’t listen. She doesn’t even look at me anymore. And now…” She trailed off again, her shoulders shaking as tears filled her eyes.

Oscar reached out instinctively, placing a hand on her arm. “Ms…”

She shook her head, brushing his hand away. “I don’t know what to do, Oscar. She’s slipping away from me, and I can’t stop it. I thought maybe you could… I don’t know. Talk to her. Get through to her. She listens to you, doesn’t she?”

The desperation in her voice was like a knife in his chest.

“She used to,” he admitted, his throat tight. “But not anymore. She won’t let me help her. I’ve tried. I’ve tried so many times.”

Her face crumpled, and she let out a sob, covering her face with her hands. “She’s all I have,” she choked out. “It’s just me and her. I don’t know how to do this alone.”

Oscar hesitated, his heart breaking at the sight of her. He wanted to promise her that he could fix everything, that he’d bring her daughter back, but the words wouldn’t come. He didn’t know if he could keep that promise.

Instead, he did the only thing he could think of. He stepped closer and wrapped his arms around her. She stiffened for a moment, then broke down completely, her sobs muffled against his shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his own voice shaking. “I’m so sorry.”

They stood like that for what felt like an eternity, the house silent except for her quiet, broken cries.

When she finally pulled away, wiping her eyes, she gave him a look so full of raw hope it made his chest ache. “Please, Oscar,” she said. “Don’t give up on her.”

He nodded, though his heart was heavy with doubt. “I won’t.”

But as he watched her walk back across the front garden to her house, the weight of the promise settled over him like a stone. He didn’t know how to save someone who didn’t want saving.

So that night, like every night before, he knelt by his bed and prayed.

“God,” he whispered into the darkness, his voice trembling. “Please. Show me what to do.”

That night the ringing of his phone jolted Oscar out of a restless sleep. For a moment, he thought it was his alarm, but the screen glowed faintly in the dark: Unknown Number.

He rubbed his eyes and answered, his voice groggy. “Hello?”

The sound on the other end wasn’t words at first. It was crying—deep, heaving sobs that clawed at his chest before he even recognised her voice.

“It’s me,” she managed between gasps.

Oscar sat up so quickly the blankets slid off his lap. “Where are you? What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know,” she choked out. “I’m… I’m at this party, and I—I took something, and now I can’t—” Her voice cracked, and she let out another sob. “I feel so weird, Oscar. I feel like I’m dying.”

His heart dropped. “You’re not dying,” he said quickly, already grabbing his keys from the nightstand. “You’re not. I’m coming to get you. Just tell me where you are.”

She mumbled the address through her tears, barely coherent, but he caught enough to recognise the street. It was across town, the kind of neighborhood he tried to avoid.

“Stay where you are,” he said, his voice shaking. “Don’t move. I’m on my way.”

He hung up and bolted for the door, his chest tight with fear.

The streets were eerily quiet as he sped through town, the glow of his headlights slicing through the darkness. His mind raced faster than the car, flashing through every worst-case scenario he could imagine. He gripped the wheel so tightly his knuckles turned white, his foot pressing harder on the gas.

When he turned onto the street, he knew he was in the right place. Cars were lined haphazardly along the curb, some with doors still hanging open. Music blared from the house, but the sound was disjointed, chaotic.

And then he saw them.

A wave of people surged out the front door, spilling into the front garden and onto the street. They were shouting, laughing, some tripping over themselves in their haste to leave. Oscar pulled over and jumped out of the car, his heart pounding.

“What’s going on?” he yelled at one of them, grabbing a guy by the arm.

“Cops are coming,” the guy slurred, shaking him off. “Some girl OD’d, man. It’s bad.”

Oscar didn’t wait to hear more. He shoved his way through the crowd, pushing against the flow of bodies until he reached the front door. The smell hit him first—alcohol, smoke, and something sour underneath.

Inside, the scene was chaos. The music was still blaring, but most of the partygoers were gone, leaving behind overturned cups and broken bottles. He stepped over a pile of discarded coats and followed the sound of a frantic voice.

In the living room, he found her.

She was lying on the floor, her face pale, looking like nothing he’d ever seen before. A girl about their age was kneeling beside her, pressing her hands against her chest in a desperate rhythm.

“Come on,” the girl muttered, her voice shaking. “Come on, don’t do this.” She glanced up briefly, her phone pressed to her ear. “Yeah, I’m doing compressions,” she said into the receiver. “Please, hurry.”

Oscar froze for a moment, the sight stealing the air from his lungs. She looked so small, so fragile. Her hair was damp with sweat, her lips tinged blue.

The girl performing CPR looked up again, her eyes wild. “Are you just going to stand there, or are you going to help?”

Her words jolted him into motion. He dropped to his knees beside them, his hands trembling as he reached for her. “What happened?” he asked, his voice cracking.

“I don’t know,” the girl snapped. “She took something—pills, I think. Someone said it was laced, but I don’t know with what.” 

Oscar’s hands hovered uselessly over her, his mind racing. He didn’t know what to do. He’d never been trained for this, never thought he’d need to be.

But he knew he needed to do something, looking at the girl in front of him, he watched her hands and pushed them aside, continuing for her. 

“She went upstairs to take a phone call, walked back in and collapsed.” The girl sat back on her heels, then leaned forward to blow two breaths into her mouth. “They thought it was a joke at first, but it all got so serious all of a sudden.” Oscar continued the same rhythm on her chest, watching as the girl flexed her hands nervously. Underneath his breath, he was silently praying that someone was listening, because in the last couple of weeks he was beginning to lose faith. No one listened to him when he was desperate, begging for someone to save her.

“Stay with me,” the other girl murmured, her voice cracking as tears streamed down her face. “Don’t you dare give up.”

The distant wail of sirens broke through the chaos, growing louder with every passing second. Relief flooded Oscar’s chest, but it was fleeting. He looked down at her pale, lifeless face and felt the weight of every prayer he’d ever whispered.

“God,” he said under his breath, his voice breaking. “Please. Don’t take her.”

The sirens grew deafening as the paramedics burst through the door. Oscar was pulled back, forced to watch as they took over, their voices calm but urgent as they worked to save her.

He didn’t realise he was crying until he tasted salt on his lips.

As they loaded her onto a stretcher and wheeled her out the door, Oscar followed, his legs unsteady but his resolve firm. He wasn’t leaving her—not now, not ever.

He watched them close the doors of the back of the ambulance and ran back to his car to follow them when he saw the girl weakly walk out of the house. He could have just left her, but she had just saved his best friend’s life. Instead, he walked back up to the house, hugged her and offered her a lift.

When Oscar finally got to the hospital, it was cold and quiet in a way that felt wrong, like it was holding its breath. Oscar sat in the hard plastic chair next to her bed, his elbows on his knees and his hands clasped tightly together. He had barely spoken to anyone since they arrived, giving only short, clipped answers to the nurses’ questions.

He didn’t know how long he sat there, staring at her pale face, willing her to wake up. The IV in her arm looked too big, too intrusive, and the steady beeping of the heart monitor was the only thing anchoring him to the moment.

Finally, her eyelids fluttered.

He shot upright, his breath catching as she groaned softly, her head turning toward him. Her eyes opened slowly, unfocused and heavy, but when they landed on him, recognition flickered.

“Oscar?” she croaked, her voice barely audible.

Tears sprang to his eyes, and he let out a shaky laugh that was more relief than joy. “Yeah, it’s me,” he said, his voice thick. He reached for her hand, squeezing it gently. “You scared the hell out of me.”

He never cursed. 

She blinked, her gaze shifting to the IV in her arm, the sterile hospital room around her. “What happened?”

“You don’t remember?” he asked, his voice breaking.

She shook her head weakly, then winced. “I… I don’t know. I was at the party, and then…” Her voice trailed off, her brows furrowing as if the memory was too painful to touch.

Oscar leaned closer, his face inches from hers. “What were you thinking?” he asked, his voice low but trembling. “Do you have any idea what could’ve happened to you? You could’ve—” He stopped himself, his chest heaving as he swallowed back the lump in his throat.

This wasn’t what she needed to hear.

She looked away, tears slipping down her cheeks. “I didn’t mean to,” she whispered. “I didn’t think it would…”

Oscar let out a shuddering breath, running a hand through his hair. “I thought I lost you,” he admitted, his voice barely audible.

They sat in silence, the weight of his words hanging between them.

A nurse came in not long after, checking her vitals and saying she’d be discharged soon. Oscar nodded numbly, his mind already racing.

When they stepped out of the hospital, the chill of the early morning air hit them both. He helped her to the car, her steps unsteady, and buckled her into the passenger seat. She leaned her head against the window, her eyes glassy and distant.

“I’ll call your mum,” he said, turning the key in the ignition.

“No,” she said quickly, her voice hoarse but firm.

Oscar paused, his hand on the wheel. “I need to tell her. I stopped the hospital from calling her.”

“Please, don’t,” she said, her voice breaking. She turned to him, her eyes pleading. “I can’t face her right now.”

He hesitated, the conflict written all over his face. “What do you want me to do?” he asked finally, his voice soft.

“Just drive,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

So he did.

They didn’t talk as the car rumbled down the empty highway. The radio was off, the only sounds the hum of the engine and the occasional rustle of her shifting in her seat.

She didn’t cry, but her silence was heavy, and Oscar didn’t push her. He kept his eyes on the road, his hands gripping the wheel tightly.

After a couple of hours, her breathing evened out, and when he glanced over, he saw that she’d fallen asleep, her face turned toward him, her expression soft but exhausted.

He sighed, his chest aching with a mix of relief and sadness. He took the next exit and drove toward her house.

When they arrived, it was still early, the sky a pale gray as dawn broke. He parked in front of her house, then got out and walked around to her side. Carefully, he opened the door and unbuckled her seatbelt, slipping an arm under her knees and another around her back.

She stirred slightly as he lifted her, but she didn’t wake. Her head lolled against his chest, and he carried her up the porch steps and knocked softly on the door.

It swung open almost immediately, and her mum stood there, her face a mixture of worry and exhaustion. When she saw her daughter in his arms, she let out a strangled cry, her hands flying to her mouth.

“She’s okay,” Oscar said quickly, his voice gentle. “She’s just sleeping.”

Her mum nodded, tears streaming down her face. She stepped aside, and he carried her inside, laying her gently on the sofa.

Her mother sank to her knees beside her, sobbing quietly as she brushed the hair from her daughter’s face. “Thank you,” she whispered, looking up at Oscar. “Thank you for bringing her home.”

Oscar knelt beside her, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “She’s going to be okay,” he said softly, though he wasn’t sure if he was trying to convince her or himself.

They sat there for a while, her mum’s quiet cries filling the silence.

Eventually, Oscar cleared his throat. “Do you have a spare set of sheets?” he asked.

She looked at him, confused. “Why?”

“I’m going to stay,” he said. “Just for tonight. I’ll sleep on the floor. I want to make sure she’s okay.”

Her mum nodded, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks. “Thank you,” she said again, her voice breaking.

Later, after setting up a makeshift bed on the floor beside the couch, Oscar lay there, staring at the ceiling. The room was quiet now, her mum having gone to bed, but he could hear her breathing softly above him.

He closed his eyes and whispered another prayer, one of gratitude this time.

“Thank you,” he murmured. “Thank you for giving her another chance.”

And for the first time in a long time, he felt like someone was listening.

the end.

[fuck-customers]

context: i work in what basically amounts to a mall. we are usually scheduled alone, so if we have to leave the shop for any reason (i.e; to use the bathroom, take out the trash, etc.) we wait for the store to be empty and then put a little "back in 5 minutes!" sign on the front counter and just kinda hope no one steals anything. (I have submitted about this place before, but it's been a while since I've been offline. currently in the process of moving to my store's other location in town because this building is garbage for MANY other reasons besides this. (ex: I had to submit a complaint to OSHA a few weeks ago because we had a heat wave and it got up to 85 degrees in there - the chocolates and soft cheeses some other vendors sell were MELTING - and I'm not even in one of the restaurants, so I can only imagine how bad it was in the kitchens.))

the other night I was getting ready to close up shop and left (when there were no cutomers) for ~5 minutes to take out the trash and use the bathroom. when I got back, there was one person waiting to ask me a question, and a $20 bill tucked under the keyboard on the front counter. I was like ???? and the person who was waiting explained that someone else had wanted to buy one of our oven mitts, but hadn't wanted to wait, so they just took it and left cash. (I wish I could say this is the first time something like this has happened to me. The only difference is people usually do this with greeting cards.) this would have been fine, albeit annoying, except that we sell a lot of different oven mitts, all of which have different barcodes/inventory records, and they left NO indication of which oven mitt they took. 🙄

I helped the person who'd been waiting, and then asked the person at the shop across from me if they'd seen which oven mitt it was. They had a few guesses, and told me they'd tried to make the person who took the oven mitt wait, but they'd apparently been an asshole and had predictably refused. tried cross-referencing the oven mitts the other worker thought it might have been with our inventory records, trying to find one that was short, but it all checked out. I can't stay late to count all of our oven mitts to find the one (1) that's short, or I'll go over my hours for the day - not to mention I had dinner plans. so I kinda resigned myself to having to leave this for the morning shift, even though I hate doing that.

a couple of minutes after I start closing up, a different customer ducks behind my shop screen to talk to me. at first I was like ???? because we're CLOSED, but then they told me they'd seen the guy take the oven mitt and had taken a picture of them because they "fucking hate thieves" (fair, I work for a small business; don't steal from mom-and-pop stores). they showed me the picture and I was able to identify the oven mitt. thanked them profusely and rang it out properly after they left. I tried to find that person after I finished closing so I could at least give them the change that the oven mitt guy would've gotten if he'd just waited for me to come back, as a thank-you, but they must've already left. still, that guy was an absolute legend and I hope their coffee is warm and their pillows are cold 🙏

Posted by admin Rodney

[numberonetribble]

Some Continuation Errors and Other Hmmmm's I spotted in TF One! (this is for funsies!)

- When Orion broadcasts the news to Iacon we hear Sentinel say, "I'm working my miners as hard as I can, I swear I will get you the rest!" Revisiting the scene, he doesn't say this!

Instead the closest we get is; "I know what I promised you, but our mines, they're running out! There's barely enough Energon for us! I swear I will get you the rest!"

Which the miner line is super raw, I really like it, but why would they cut it? Maybe it's to convey to the audience that things are even bleaker ON TOP of the Quintessants being there? It's an interesting choice to keep both lines in!

- Staying in this scene, Orion plays the "I took his cog for myself." line. He was not there for that. Unless he'd digging around in her memories and this is first and foremost in her brain, he wouldn't know to look for it. Which also, it took me several rewatches for me to figure out WHY he thought she was the key. Thing is, other than that first line, he plays lines that he personally witnessed, Orion did not need her memories for this plan to work. Maybe one could argue he wanted hers as his would be considered bias to the public and Sentinel's Right Hand's are undeniable. But the citizens don't see that.

- During the race we see Elita moving crates around as if she's at work. Sentinel said that there would be NO work for all shifts. Yes she's a workaholic. However, she's not alone. There's at least two other bots working with her. Maybe they're also workaholics? Maybe their supervisor told them no you still have to work?

My only guess, it's the next day and they're trying to get those trains loaded as Sentinel has a delivery scheduled. However, these trains should've been prepped and ready to go WAY before this. It's too important to leave last minute. At MOST D-16 and Orion are in the infirmary for a day. They're un-cogged and barely injured, during triage they would've been put last to attend to. So at best, Sentinel is back for 2 days before leaving again. Not nearly enough time to load that many trains.

- When we meet B-127 he says that the new Shift Manager doesn't like distractions. We the audience know he's referencing Elita. She's been there for maybe 2 days. (This isn't really a Continuation Error more like, really interesting? It implies that the timeline was different in an earlier draft as that's very fast for her to establish herself to this division especially during a national holiday. Sure she's the kind of person who would but, you know, this is for funsies)

- The opening narration tells us the audience that the Matrix is needed for Energon to flow. Orion knows this, the citizens know this. Sentinel sees it as an object that can be taken and dismissed the lore of how it works. But why make this recording?? Maybe it was for new Sparklings to watch on their first day alive, but it's in the Archives now. Orion hadn't seen it before, meaning it got phased out. Why not destroy it?

Orion is so insistent that there might be data to help Sentinel, but he never stops to think that Sentinel already knows everything in that Archive.

These are just some thoughts I've been chewing on! I've been watching it everyday after work and these are what stick out to me the most. It's still a really good movie and I love it alot I just want to talk about this stuff 👉👈

[jariten]

Roundup-catch up: September 2024 (〜Take me back to the Reiwa era arc〜)

After a rather all consuming and intense reading experience that took me 60 years back in time (I will get to that one another time) I wanted to get back to the present time, specifically 2020 to today, and explore what's new and buzzing in the manga landscape. Luckily had a couple titles sitting unread ready to give me the most productive reading week I've had so far this year.

Akari by Marco Kohinata is a work I don't want to go too in detail about because I think it's one that I think is better by just diving straight in so I want to describe a bit what it does artistically. Even before it became the norm to produce manga manuscripts fully digitally with programs like Clip Studio there's always been manga artists who challenge the "correct" way of how manga manuscripts should look with clean inked lines and nothing but screentone or crosshatching to add dimension. Like Taiyo Matsumoto, Hiroaki Samura, and Q Hayashida just to mention a few. But with the digital way of doing it becoming the norm and thus there being less time consuming and high risk ways to experiment with the expected form of a manga manuscript the diversity of artistic expression in manga is expanding. All the manga in this post have an expression to them only really possible to do in a digital medium or if analogue, made possible by the innovations of digital artists. Akari has a sort of charcoal texture to it that I haven't seen any other manga artist use giving it a really illustrative look that really elevates the emotional themes of familial estrangement and being at risk of falling to the margins of society that the work depicts. Its made me really look forward to seeing what the "average" manga manuscript might look like by 2030.

Last year I gushed a bit about the cutesy gag manga Yoko to Tora by Fuyuko Kurosaki which really charmed me with its truly adorable art, little world building touches and anything goes absurdist comedy. This mini project finally got me to pick up Heike Monogatari Yoru-kun no Hanashi. This anachronistic time slipped retelling of the tale of the arrogant Taira samurai clan and its conflict with the Minamoto clan backed by imperial interests. Recently orphaned Yoru-kun has spent most of his life with the spoiled but lonely rich girl Sara. But one day, he is suddenly kidnapped from our time to the Heian era by Taira no Kiyomori! (portrayed as a flashy rock star super villain obsessed with his wife) to play the role of his daughter in a grand scheme to marry the Taira clan into the imperial family. Yoru now finds himself living at the whims of his war mongering and arrogant new father, but at the same time finds himself sympathetic and invested in his new family. Because they aren't all that bad. Right? But what about Sara? She's not going to let Yoru be all alone in this strange story, right? The Heike story is retold with a maximalist, deeply anachronistic and absurd fashion by, I will already declare, one of my favorite contemporary manga artists.

There's clearly a "gender bending" aspect to have these characters take the roles of historical figures of the "opposite" gender but the role assignment is as far as that went. The only new item of clothing that gendered Yoru was a kimono overcoat worn over his school uniform while Sara was only gendered by a piece of armour worn on top of hers. And of course Yoru can have a baby, you can just go pick those up anywhere. Like, at the cabbage patch. Intentionally or not it becomes a farcical commentary on how gender is assigned upon you by others.

A lot of current manga are in some way colored by the pandemic and 2020 COVID lockdown era. After Shinzo Keigo was hospitalized from COVID complications he produced Hirayasumi. But his wife Natsuko Taniguchi was obviously affected by this time in world history and her personal life as well and produced her own manga in response to it. Fukiyose Residence introduces us to the flashy gal cashier at a non-franchise conbini. She talks loud, sits on a camping chair behind the register but her high spirits brings as much joy as annoyance to her customers. But her public self and private self couldn't be more different, which her neighbours in her apartment building learn one by one. A short but very sweet story about actually finding connection with those closest to you and the ways we transform ourselves through and for others.

Sometimes I don't do my due dilligence and check if I can get a title I'm eyeing in Japanese in english, but to be fair that overlap is just so rare that I lost the habit. But here I made a mistake, because last week Astro Biologist Pratess by Sarami got a translated omnibus release by Alien Press. That particular edition is not what I will review T^T but it's def one to check out. A classic coming of age during summer vacation with past lives from outer space a la Please Save My Earth and astral connections to an alien astro biologist brings 3 friends closer as they try to figure out exactly what they want from life. This is one I wish was just 1 or 2 volumes longer so all 3 characters got to be fully fleshed out but I enjoyed what we got and it made me feel even more excited about what manga is waiting for us in the near future. The work was also licensed in Spanish so if that's your preferred way to read do check it out!

[touchlikethesun]

i hate group work i hate group work i hate group work i hate group work i am 23 i should not have to do group work anymore this is awful please ughhhhh

[starry-bi-sky]

Blood Blossom Au: Baby's First Commissioner Meeting :)

TL:DR This Post: Danny (orphan) gets poisoned with blood blossom extract by Vlad. He runs away from him and ends up under the care of one Pre-Robin Battinson Batman! Starry is loudly pushing her batdad agenda.

(Also known as "Late At Night, When The Nightingale Sings" on my ao3!)

This was a fun rough idea I've been sitting on for weeks, thinking about how Commissioner Gordon and Nightingale's first meeting might go.

---------------

Commissioner Gordon likes to think that he's adjusting to the new normal of Gotham very well, -- the new normal being grown men running around dressed like bats, in military-grade strength body armor, committing acts of vigilantism, -- and slowly, little by little, he was no longer being surprised when this new normal pops up out of the shadows like the world's most terrifying daisy. His shaving lifespan thanks him for it.

....

The kid is a surprise though.

Granted, he seemed to be a surprise to the Bat too.

There's been a string of murders lately, -- which, in Gotham, is kind of like saying there's been another storm during monsoon season. And there's just been another; in some dilapidated building down in south Gotham, with the broken, boarded-up windows and mildew-crawling walls to match. The victim is a man in his thirties, multiple gunshot wounds to the chest, left in the center of the room for the blood to pool out around him.

The place is already secured when he arrives, the building swarmed with officers and the forensic detectives. The Bat emerges shortly after he does -- or, he might've been here the whole time, hiding someplace dark and shadowy. For his own sanity, Gordon doesn't think about it too hard.

The kid is a surprise, and he appears like a bolt of lightning.

He shows up in the middle of a conversation Gordon is having with the Bat.

A whistle, sharp and loud, slicing through the air, meant for open air rather than a confined space. Gordon's ears pierce and protest the sound, and the solemn, murmured chatter floating through the room abruptly cuts off like the swing of a gavel. As he turns towards the sound -- as they all do -- he swears, up and down, that he sees Batman's shoulders jump, just slightly.

At the source, perched on the window, is a boy. A boy in a gray-blue scarf and an oversized black hoodie, one that hangs off his frame and has ace bandages wrapped around the wrists in some attempt to cinch the sleeves. The hood is up, big like the rest of it, and threatens to swallow the upper half of the boy's face whole in the fabric. What upper half Gordon can see, is smeared with some kind of opaque, black face paint. He's holding onto the side of the frame with one hand, on his hip is a grappling hook. A familiar grappling hook.

Gordon has multiple questions, and his officers tense up.

Martinez puffs up, brows furrowing as his face shapes into a frown. Shoulders rolling back. "You can't be here, kid--"

The reaction is immediate, like a spark to gunpowder, the boy yanks his fingers from his mouth and his mouth twists into a scowl. Head snapping over to Officer Martinez, his hood manages to stay on but Gordon swears that as he bares his teeth, the glint makes them look sharper than they should be. His voice is rasp and quiet and harsh; snappish in its hissing; "Put a fuckin sock in it, Martinez. I'm not stayin."

Martinez reels back, and the boy immediately veers his attention off him. Like a switch, his demeanor drops. Despite half his face being covered, his mouth twists into a cringing, apologetic smile. Slanted and off-beat, embarrassed. It'd be disarming if this wasn't Gotham, and if he didn't just hiss at Martinez like he was about to bite his head off.

"Sorry." He whispers, voice deceptively polite and softer now. Gordon has to strain his ears to hear him. "I was looking for him."

He points his finger towards-- Gordon? No, Gordon follows the direction, and finds himself looking at -- the Bat.

The Bat, who always looks stiff as a pole, now looks even stiffer. Somehow. Well, the explains the grappling hook attached to the boy's waist.

"What are you doing here?" The Bat says, gruff and unable to completely smother the stumble of surprise in his tone.

The boy still holds a sheepish smile, and slips off the window ledge. His feet hit the creaky boards with a near-silent thud, the Batman finds his feet and rapidly begins crossing the room.

Gordon notes the slight tremble in the boy's legs as he straightens. He adjusts his scarf, which droops close to his knees now that he's standing, and slings a backpack -- how long has had that? -- off his shoulders. When the Bat reaches his side, he does as he always does, and looms over the boy like a spectre. A threatening mass of shadows cloaked in all-consuming black. Standing next to him, the boy looks teeny in comparison.

The Bat is a man who terrifies even the most hardened criminals, Gordon has seen grown men shiver in fear at the mention of his name. And yet when the boy looks up at him, he doesn't even flinch.

Instead, his sheepish smile melts away like ice under the sun, holding only traces of his previous embarrassment. It remains as a shadow on his face, a small upturn at the corners of his mouth. The boy pushes his hood back just enough to reveal glinting, ice-flint eyes surrounded in tar-black face paint. He holds the backpack up with one arm. "You forgot this."

[mjhartwork]

Terrier Du Bois.

I know that "harrier" is already a dog breed... but he looks more like a terrier!

[chimerafeathers]

there's an essay jumbled up in my brain about dunmeshi's beginning and how clever and deceptive it is as a sleight-of-hand trick that distracts the audience from the depth and scope of the worldbuilding and foreshadowing that's being set up the entire time by dangling zany characters and wacky dishes and biology fun facts in front of us, and how that serves to catch invested viewers off guard when those elements come to the forefront, but also how it works against it with other viewers wanting "more" and not seeing it because the plot bait isn't laid out up front

how people getting frustrated with the characters "not taking things seriously" is mirrored and refuted in the confrontation between Laios and Shuro. how the characters' attitudes aren't just a result of shallow low-stakes "comedy rules" where nothing matters, but are an extension of their personalities (Laios's nonstandard expression of emotions being offputting even to people he knows) and the world and social environment (adventurers being desensitized to death and injury because resurrection magic is commonplace). the way the party refers to "saving Falin" instead of "retrieving Falin's corpse," indicating that they still see her with full personhood, and how that phrasing leads to some readers/viewers believing that Falin is alive in the dragon's stomach, conscious of being slowly digested while the party carelessly fucks around "wasting time." how the weird tonal dissonance makes sense in-universe and yet is deliberately challenged more and more the deeper the party goes

all the character building and pieces of lore slowly weaving together the shape of the larger world, laying the groundwork for the major themes that will surface later. so much is right there in the "low-stakes" early episodes if you know what you're looking for (or pass the perception checks).

it can be so satisfying to see new viewers/readers pick up on the clues even in the earliest "simple" episodes, or notice new things and make connections yourself....and it can also be frustrating to see people dismiss oddities and dissonance as shallow or bad writing because they don't expect a "cooking anime" to have depth like that. why try to question and understand and peel back the layers when you don't expect there to be any layers?

why can't laios take things seriously for once?

[icewindandboringhorror]

Everytime I face a new character limit on a website that didn't have them before/used to have really long ones... AUGHHhhh the modern social media world was not made for people like me (lovers of details, rambling, elaboration, thorough explanation, and nuance)

[turtlemagnum]

ok, gonna try my hand at compiling my thoughts on fist of the north star first. here goes nothing! warning, this post is gonna be Long, open the read more at your own peril.

i think the best way to go about this might be roughly chronologically, so i'll start at the start. i think it's interesting how very early on, the conceit is "there is but one practitioner of hokuto shinken and but one practitioner of nanto seiken, and they are sworn to never fight lest the world fall into Chaos..." and that degrades very quickly past the first arc. i will say that overall, the shin arc is a very fun, enjoyable and relatively quick watch, with mostly interesting fights, decent character designs and a mostly compelling narrative. i think one of the standout parts, to me, was when shin was actually defending yuria from his former goons while they tried to revolt. it definitely added a certain texture to shin's character where he had previously been just 100% straightforwardly the bad guy, instead of being 99% that. also there's the devil rebirth fight and that time ken killed The Entire United States Military in the same episode that he punched a wrecking ball so hard that it shattered like a christmas ornament. now that i think about it, the leader guy of the former US military was actually probably the first time we see nanto seiken used by someone who isn't shin, and i remember it being kind of a big deal that shin had violated their sacred traditions to such an extent, y'know? how quickly that went out the window

something that's been consistently good in the series was the music. the fight music, the ambient stuff, and especially the openings. all 3 of the openings are S tier, but i will say they never quite top ai wo torimodose, it's just that fucking bombastic and fun, y'know? at the same time i wouldn't stab somebody for thinking silent survivor or TOUGH BOY are better, they're all fuckin great even if in different ways at time. honestly i'm mostly surprised that an anime from back then had more than one opening, much less 3. from what i can tell that shit wasn't nearly as common back then as it was today, so i think it speaks to how deeply popular the series was back in its heyday. hell, OG dragon ball got just one and im pretty sure DBZ barely got two. i hope one day i'll be able to make music as stellar as the hnk soundtrack, really.

something that bugged me about early fist of the north star is how every fucking woman looked like yuria, just sometimes with different hair. this definitely got better as the series went on, and i have no idea if this was a problem in the manga too, but by god is it glaring. thankfully that seems to clear up ironically after mamiya is introduced, who is explicitly portrayed to be the spitting image of yuria. i think the first time i noticed that women finally look like unique people and Not Just Yuria was that one martial artist who fought with roses and shit. side note but i genuinely loved her design, the show got really sexist about her being a Femoid who fights but setting aside that i really loved her. i should learn to draw her. anyways, i like how the series improved over time in that regard, at the very least

one of my biggest problems in the series starts with shin's death. i remember when shin first died and he burst out crying, i had assumed it was just a fucked up manipulation tactic like the yuria doll, but apparently we the audience were expected to take it seriously? and like, this began a longrunning trend of a villain being like, absolutely irredeemably evil, like puppy crusher machine, baby eating, torment nexus evil, and then at the end they're all like "i just wanted 2 play on de play groundt...." and we're expected to take that seriously???? like, i'm all for moral nuance and complexity, and there are times where this whole shtick was done more tolerably than others, but in my opinion they never actually redeem somebody in a way that's satisfying. a redemption arc has to be, y'know, a fucking arc. and even if you're trying to do a redemption = death thing, the thing that makes that trope work is that they die doing something, y'know, actually good???? the reason anakin's redemption worked (aside from actually being foreshadowed pretty blatantly) was because he actually saved lukes life and died in the process. he did a good thing and died because of it. meanwhile shin, he still fought ken right up until the end and acted like nothing was out of the ordinary until he was literally seconds from dying. at least raoh had it built up to a little bit, like jesus fucking christ.

now, i will say that the arc from roughly jagi's introduction to the first fight with raoh is the best fist of the north star gets. if you're thinking about watching the show but don't wanna commit to 150ish episodes, i'd recommend watching from the beginning right up until the end of the first raoh fight. i feel like that's still be a pretty compelling 50 or so episodes, and it has literally all the best bits within it. honestly kinda sad that the show peaks approximately 1/3 of the way through it, but what can you do. anyways, enough backhanded compliments; jagi is probably the best all around villain in this series. he's an absolute bastard, he's one of the first characters in the entire show to just straight up pull a normal gun on people, and he inspires one of the most cathartic moments in the entire show. this is around when we first get into like, the soap opera shit, right? first it's a bit contrived but still cool as hell that rei is a new nanto seiken practitioner, aside from That One Scene he fills the deuteragonist role pretty nicely and is honestly the gold standard by which the rest of the series' guys can be judged off of. he's no ein or juza, but to be fair basically nobody is.

anyways like, that cathartic moment i was talking about. it was just after jagi admitted to ken, taunting him with the fact that he's actually the reason shin kidnapped yuria, and he's the reason yuria died. this, alongside the "actually the main character has 3 secret brothers that we just havent mentioned until now, and theyre ALSO hokuto shinken practitioners" is very like. soap opera/bad fanfic-y, right? but it works because in execution, it's still pulled off well, and we're still nowhere near the bullshit horizon we'd skyrocket past by the end of the series. so, when ken's finally killing jagi, there's a moment where he says something to the effect of "this is for yuria, and...." and you just know what he's about to say next, but he hesitates, and when he finally says it it's so damn satisfying, "and for me!" and the thing is that it's a deeply compelling moment for a variety of reasons.

so, the thing with fist of the north star is that, in a lot of ways, it's very analogous to a superman story where the question is almost never "will the main character lose this fight" because he's so insanely fucking broken, right? the real question is, "will this character protect those he cares about in time", that's where the tension comes from, and it comes from the fact that he is in fact a hero. that's how you write a compelling overpowered protagonist, you give him either people to love or just a love and respect for all life in general and so that always gives you stakes. i get that to a lot of people, the question of "will ken save this nameless chicken farmer?" isn't a very compelling one. but to me, it is, because he cares so deeply about it that i start caring about it. in the words of aphex twin, "i care because you do".

so, the thing is up until now ken is a very selfless character. it's to such an exaggerated degree that it becomes fairly evident that he has very little regard for his own safety or wellbeing. in the first arc, aside from helping whoever he happens across he's motivated exclusively by rescuing yuria. every fight he has up to this point isn't even for himself, really, and there's something almost sad about that. he doesn't allow himself to have needs. so it's actually very satisfying to see this strong, principled man admit that he has in fact been hurt, and that he's not just doing good for those around him but for himself as well. and it's a very natural character progression that you don't even realize is happening but also makes complete sense. there's something deeply compelling to me about a man so devoted to helping others that he has to actively learn how to live for himself, y'know? i feel like that's a relatable struggle to a lot of people, really

i will say i have one gripe about the jagi fight, and it's that it's almost perfect except for the fact that jagi dies laughing. at first it's seeming like he's gonna die in agonizing misery like he deserves, and it's satisfying well up until the point he starts to laugh on the way out. and like, i understand why it was done that way, and i'm pretty sure it was meant to be haunting, but it honestly just felt like it undercut an otherwise great moment, y'know? i want that motherfucker suffering god damnit, its what he deserves.

there's not much to say about the arc up until the first raoh fight, really. toki is really fucking cool, i love me my apocalypse karate jesus boy, and the fight with that uighur guy was really good setting aside the weird racial thing of having a character that's of a certain ethnicity and just naming them that ethnicity. like, imagine if there was just a guy in a show named Jew, and he's canonically supposed to be jewish but it's never really addressed, like that'd be weird right

i will say, the raoh fight was fucking precious, easily the best part of the entire series. it has this amazing and complex rhythm to it, where every character who tries to fight raoh ends up trying their own self sacrificial bullshit move only to be thwarted by the next guy, until there's essentially like 3 or 4 different fights going on at the same time. it's also nice seeing ken get straight up hard countered for once, like straight up he gets just as fucked up as raoh does and it makes raoh that much cooler of a villain. up to this point, ken is like, essentially invincible. he's basically post apocalypse aikido jesus, poking people so hard that their disabilities are cured and punching people so hard that their entire bodies explode like he's got the bloody mess perk. so to see someone even break even with him is a damn impressive thing, it instantly establishes your villain credentials y'know?

the thing about raoh is that i love him, very much, but i very much hate how he was handled near the end. the fights with him after the first one are very eh, the penultimate one is close to satisfying but then there's that whole "and then he randomly got away with yuria and now he's gone!!!" bullshit, and i get what the final one was going for and it's kind of built up to but i still didn't exactly like it, y'know? for what it's worth, raoh's redemption arc was probably the most well set up in the entire series, but it still wasn't actually y'know. good. like, the way we're introduced to him is by him being Ken-Oh, King of Fists, and he's this fucking tyrant who recruits people to be his slaves by giving them the ultimatum of "willingly brand yourself as my property and then be my slave for the rest of your short life or get burnt to death", and we're shown that his goons are inches away from burning lin, a literal baby child, to death. and we're supposed to just buy that he's actually not that bad at the end???

like, something i wish this series would just fucking do would be to have their villains just fucking own their villainy right up till the end. they do it before the end!!! one of the first bits with shin has him literally monologuing about how cool & good it is to be evil before busting out one of the greatest evil laughs i've ever heard from a voice actor in any media ever. the best villains are pretty consistently That kind of evil, like the kind of evil that'd make the average disney executive go "hey maybe we can chill a bit out here real quick", and that'd be wonderful if they were unrepentant about it!! it feels really forced!!! imagine if like, frieza, before the bitter end, went all "hmm, maybe i do regret blowing up planets and spending my days being space hitler...." that wouldn't've fucking worked!!! there is, in fact, such an intense degree of evil in fiction that it just doesn't make sense for them to immediately go "hmm yeah i'm a good guy now. right before i die. how about that :)". it's deeply unsatisfying every fucking time, like my god

there's something to be said about the queer coding in this show. i remember in one of the earlier episodes, there was this bear dressed as a BDSM cop and his two goons were scantily clad twinks, and internally i went "haha that's kinda gay" before he straight up kisses random dudes before he kills them. and it hit me like "oh. he IS gay..." and it's like. i don't think that's even the gayest thing in the series, really. there's that one scene where two fang clan dudes are checking out rei and the one with the binoculars is like "woah, this guy's real pretty!" and the other dude is all "well, not as pretty as me right bro???". and then there's just yuda, in general. relatively uninteresting villain, but him dying in rei's arms admitting that his motivation in trying to kill him was that he was the only other man who he found beautiful, like. i don't think there's a heterosexual way to interpret that, really! and that's even setting aside the hideous makeup he's always in! and that's not even mentioning yuria's brother wanting to "see what she(yuria) saw in him (ken)" and as a consequence, wanting to die by his hands. also ein is a bisexual icon who canonically thinks ken has a pretty face and i love that for him

the next bit after yuda was, i believe, souther and shu. now, i think souther might've been the only villain to outright defeat ken up to this point, and i think there's something that could've been interesting about that if souther just wasn't like, aggressively fucking boring. i think he's also the introduction to ki blasts, so that's cool, but the most interesting bits about the souther arc were the bits with shu. shu was a homie, very speedwagon-esque in terms of vibes if not functionality, i liked watching him at work. i will say that shu was probably the point where nanto seiken was wearing out its welcome, we're at like 4 or 5 guys whose main deal was nanto seiken and their entire fighting style could essentially boil down to "cut em into bits" and the only real variation was the shape of the bits people were cut into. i think this might've been the prevailing attitude at the time too, because they definitely pivot away from nanto seiken after this in favor of other, usually dumber martial arts

i will say that this series is, usually, very good about respecting character deaths. with one piss stained exception, characters pretty much always die and stay dead forever, meanwhile i feel like in series less committed to death mattering would've still had toki or rei around by the end of it. the exception is, of course, yuria. it was to give yuria and ken a happy ending, at least for a little while, and honestly while i kinda hate the concept the execution was still fairly competent so i didn't outright dislike it overall. i think it's stupid and retcon-y and at times feels like yet another excuse to make shin seem like less of a bad guy, but it still felt nice to know that yuria got the spend the last few years of her life with the man she loved

i liked ryuga for what he was, mostly just because he wasn't yet another fucking nanto seiken user. he's probably about on par with the elemental guys that'd go on to die to raoh, juza excluded. which brings me to, the man who is tied for Best Boy, juza of the clouds! i.e., my current profile pic. i like juza. he's probably the best thing to come from the series post the Peak arc of jagi to raoh. one of my first criticisms of the characters in this show was something to the effect of "look, if you're a handsome, muscular guy who's also ungodly fucking powerful in terms of martial arts in a world where martial arts is fucking magic, And you're in a post apocalypse? all i'm saying is that you could have basically any girl you wanted CONSENSUALLY, like seriously shin just ditch yuria and build yourself a harem of all the women that look exactly like her". and juza did exactly that, and i love him for it. i'd like to think i'd be like juza, in his universe, not quite the top of the totem pole in terms of raw power but still well above every normal person, saving women from being abused and letting them join my harem if they want, living in a fucking castle with a pool/bathing house? that's the dream, man. that's the fucking dream.

now, that's setting aside juza's whole "wanting to fuck his sister" thing. like, to be fair, yuria's his half sister, but seriously dude what the fuck is it with everyone in this show and yuria. ken and all 3 of his brothers were into her, juza was into her, shin was into her, if there is a man in this show and he knows yuria there's like an 80% chance that he wants her. what's the fucking appeal? like yeah, she's pretty, sure, but so are all the women in this show!!! personally i'd rather date like, a martial artist lady who could actually defend herself, but that could just be me. well, that's like the only thing wrong about juza to me, and honestly while that's a pretty significant flaw you can still say he's literally one thing away from being flawless, so that's pretty cool. god i love him

now's about when we get into hokuto no ken 2, where the main difference is that lin and bat are actually useful now and i'm pretty sure lin wants to fuck kenshiro now, which still weirds me the fuck out. my other favorite character in this show, ein, is the most american fucker on earth. like literally he wears an american flag suit, has blonde hair and blue eyes, is a fucking bounty hunter, and literally rides around on a killdozer driven by what i'm pretty sure is a slave. literally cannot get more american than that, i just hope that the slave guy is like a former bandit or something. little known fact about me, one of my biggest turn ons in a piece of fiction is when a character is a bounty hunter. something about bounty hunters just fuckin gets my brain goin, y'know? i remember when i played the GTA online bounty hunter quests, they were straight up some of the most fun i've had with GTAV and i still think i'd enjoy playing a game where that's the main mechanic. also, at first glance he's a wife guy, but it turns out he's a loving father which makes him even better. it's even acknowledged in universe that he's cool as hell!!! i love him dearly

viceroy jakoh is a decent villain. he's enjoyable to see die, at least. we also meet falco, who's a homie, and honestly i think it's pretty badass that he's a canonically disabled character who's shown to be strong and capable and yet is still clearly held back by his disability. he's a bit like a proto edward elric, in that regard. honestly one of the most sharp inhale inducing scenes of the show was when jakoh swept his prosthetic out from under him and then proceeded to beat the shit out of him, frankly that was an egregious way to make a villain hateable and it was honestly very effective in that regard. gento koken is ok i guess. at least it's not nanto seiken. honestly that whole "celestial emperor" thing felt rather contrived, but eh.

ok so, around this point in the show is when one of its worst aspects really starts to become apparent. so like, it starts out relatively normally when ken is shown to have a few brothers that we didnt know about. it's not that absurd, it makes some amount of sense, the hokuto brothers remain some of the best characters in the entire fucking show. and now all of a sudden, yuria has a brother we didnt know about, and a half brother, and now we meet raoh and ken's biological bigger brothers and after a certain point it just feels like bad self insert fanfic, y'know? and that's what kaioh is to me, it feels like somebody thought raoh was cool and thought "heh, what if i made my own OC that's raoh but even BIGGER and STRONGER and MORE EVIL", like that's what kaioh feels like to me. and then ken's bio brother is just ok, i already forgot his name despite it not being that long since i watched the final arc

but the thing is that kaioh is just like, arguably the most cartoonishly evil villain out of the entire fucking series, seemingly completely unrepentant, literally regularly talks about existing in the "Dark World", straight up kills his own sister just to make ken's brother wanna kill ken, the dude is just bitter and evil the whole way down, so when he pulls that "i just want 2 play on the played ground" bullshit it rings especially hollow even by the standards of the show. god, fuck kaioh, he's just poorly executed overall

the biggest part of hnk2 that i actually liked was shachi. i liked how he was essentially a stupid kid that lucked into being taught unearthly powers basically on par with hokuto shinken, and as such got a big head over it even though at his core he was still a good kid. hokuto ryuken sure felt fuckin contrived, it kinda felt like the writer(s?) noticed how the hokuto brothers were some of the best, most interesting characters in in the original series, and were just like "yeah let's do that but again", and while i guess it doesn't not work it also doesn't work all that well either. hokuto ryuken sounds cool though, even if "north star lapis lazuli fist" doesn't.

another thing i liked about the last parts of the show were that, while definitely not martial art wizards, bat and lin were still deeply competent fighters and put up a consistently good fight against Real Fucking Fighters, which you really wouldn't expect from bat's cowardly ass growing up. i will say that i always thought lin would make a good successor to hokuto shinken, but that might just be wishful thinking. there is a quite prevalent undercurrent of misogyny in this series, and while i understand that it wasn't exactly uncommon in the 80s, i gotta say that i still feel like they could've done better. i dunno

all of this is to say that i liked fist of the north star, very very much. i'm not sure i could recommend it without a laundry list of caveats and disclaimers, but i will say that if my interminable bitching hasn't put you off of it, it's probably for you. it's got a lot of good fights, it scratches that little kid part of your brain that thinks it's so cool to see a guy get kicked in the dick so hard that his entire body explodes, it has great music and mostly competent writing. if you think about it too hard, you will cry, so don't do that, just go along for buronson's wild ride and fuckin enjoy yourself. i probably wouldn't recommend it to someone who's not like, already an anime fan and already likes shonen though. it feels very of its genre, if that makes sense. which i guess it should, given how foundational to shonen in its modern forms as it was

[aromanticasterisms]

oh my god sigewinne is so cute. she has something deeply wrong with her i can tell

[dangerliesbeforeyou]

havent watched either of them yet but i am still annoyed that dw was released last night BEFORE it was broadcast to the beeb... also annoyed that they're showing 2 episodes rather than just one??? like even if the stories are interconnected it just feels wrong to have them one after the other idk....

[dimiclaudeblaigan]

Sometimes I want to read my friends' fics bc like... friends! Their fics! But then like... my brain reminds me the only fic I read is dmcl.

[tkbrokkoli]

:3