#wrote this instead of homework

[vic-draws-sometimes]

In and Out pt.2

This isn't a sequel, it's just Soap's POV

cw : injuries, dissassociation, it's long and wirtten entirely for my own satisfaction

pt. 1

Soap learned early on that Ghost didn’t have all his head. Sometimes he wouldn’t answer to anyone, other times he’d act like a robot. And sometimes Simon came around, cracking jokes and loving Johnny. 

It took years for Soap to understand everything and to have a relationship with Simon. It was never easy, but he didn’t have a choice. Not when his heart chose him. 

Sometimes Simon would be gone for days, but he also could be there for days. Johnny doesn’t know exactly what sets him off one way or the other, but thankfully it seems that his presence helps a bit. 

This time was no different, Ghost was sitting in the helicopter with them, in silence, when he suddenly came about. No one seemed to notice, but Soap did. He immediately latched onto the opportunity and sat beside Simon, holding his hand and his stare. 

‘’Hey big guy, ready? It’ll be a couple of days.’’ 

Soap could see all the changes in his partner’s eyes. His confusion, taking in his surroundings, then focusing on Johnny. 

‘’Yeah, I’m good. ‘’ Soap was happy to hear his voice, softer than when he was on autopilot. 

Sat side by side, Simon conversed with the others as well, trying to fill the time until they landed. Price was surprised to see him with them, but was happy. It took Gaz a little longer to notice. 

Eventually Simon went silent, and Soap had to hope it’s only because he was thinking, not because he was retreating again. 

It seems it was the first, because when they landed Simon was still with them, even cracking a joke. Everything seemed fine, they walked through the desert on high alert and finally found the village that was a couple of miles from their target. They would spend the evening there and travel to their target during the night. 

Even if the village was abandoned and they were miles from civilization, they still needed to be on alert. There could be traps or watchers. Which is why when Ghost stopped walking and stood upright, beside a dusty old truck, open to anyone to see or shoot, Soap was worried. 

He was slipping. 

Trying to keep his Simon with him, he was quick to be by his side and ground him. 

‘’Yer good, LT?’’ 

Ghost looked at him, eyes dazed and confused. Maybe he should just let him slip back, maybe it’d be easier… 

But Ghost inched closer and Soap knew exactly what he wanted to do, he stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. 

‘’Woah, stop. After the mission, okay? Just stay focused, yeah? I don’t want to lose you.’’ 

It was true, maybe if Simon was promised a kiss he wouldn’t go away.

Ghost nodded, seemingly coming back, and Soap guided him to the shadows, back with their small team. 

Simon didn’t stay, it became apparent. He would only answer through the comms, and only the necessary. Alert as always and deadly like he’s known for, but the warmth was gone. 

And oh did Johnny miss it. 

The three days were long without him. Gaz tried to lighten the mood, but it just wasn’t the same. 

Eventually, they entered combat. The adrenaline of the mortal danger they were in distracted Soap sufficiently. They were close to their target, he could feel it in his veins. He was like a tracking dog finally finding its goal. 

But when they got to the final room, the servers were on fire. 

He heard himself curse, and before he knew it he was in the fire, trying to pry open the sloth for at least one of the cartagers. 

His gloves got on fire, and he had enough clarity to get out of there and try to take them off. He struggled, the plastic was already melting. Surprisingly, Ghost was the one to help him, efficiently putting off the fire and taking them off for him. His skin was badly burned, it would soon break in blisters if they didn’t act soon. 

‘’What the fuck was that, sergeant?!’’ 

Price shook him out of his thoughts, but before he could apologize he was guided out of the servers room and out of the building. 

They exited the small city and found a shack to hide in. Price contacted Laswell to tell her the bad news. Gaz was on watch duty, making sure no one was approaching their position. And before Soap could fall into his own head and review everything that went wrong, Ghost sat him down. 

‘’I’m sorry LT, I shouldn’t have acted so rashly, I…’’ Ghost didn’t speak, but he took his burned hands and started to clean them. 

‘’Ouch! At least warn me…’’ Ghost applied cream, then tightly bandaged his hands, essentially stopping the skin from blistering. Then, he removed his own gloves and carefully put them on for Soap, protecting the bandages. 

‘’Simon…’’ Soap called out, but when he looked into his eyes he didn’t see his partner. He sighed and thanked him, and Ghost went away to take care of something else. 

‘’Evac will come tomorrow, ten miles from here. Let’s go.’’ Price announced soon after, and they started walking again. 

When they reached the RV point, they set up a small camp. Two tents, a small fire and a hole for shitting. They didn’t need more than that, Ghost usually slept with Soap, if he slept, and Price and Gaz were more than happy to share a tent. 

‘’God I’m starving! I could eat a horse.’’ Johnny said when they could finally sit down. Price chuckled. 

‘’Only got cans of beans.’’ 

‘’Beans?! I hate those! Why no MREs?’’ 

‘’Someone ate all of them, last week.’’ Soap and Price turned to look at Ghost, even though he was unresponsive. Well, they thought. He quickly turned around and started walking elsewhere, much to their confusion. 

‘’Follow him, make sure he doesn’t get in trouble.’’ 

‘’Yes sir.’’ Soap sighed as he got up and followed his Lieutenant. Ghost was looking at the ground when walking, then stopped and crouched down behind a bush. Soap stayed there for a couple of minutes, watching him. But he didn’t move, so he went back to Price. 

‘’He’s sulking, my guess.’’ Not the best time for that, though. Midday was approaching and staying in the shade was going to be important.

Soap entered the tent not long after, trying to get away from the heat. An hour or two later he got out again, the worst was passed. 

‘’I hate the desert! ‘’ he exclaimed, only Gaz had the courtesy to chuckle. It seems he only got out a couple of minutes earlier than him.

‘’Have you seen Ghost?’’ 

‘’No, the man’s been gone for hours. ‘’ Gaz replied, and Soap couldn’t help but be worried. He was a danger, after all. To himself and to others. But before he could get up to look for him, he came back. He was covered in fresh blood and sweat, a skinned rabbit in his hand. He dropped it in front of Soap. 

‘’Huh… Thanks. Did you hunt that yourself?’’ he asked, but got no answer. Ghost only walked a couple of meters to go sit on a boulder and stare into nothing. 

‘’Are you being courted by a caveman?’’ Gaz laughed, but no doubt would be eating the meat when it was cooked. 

‘’Don’t make fun of him when he’s like that. ‘’ Johnny tried to defend him, but it’s true that it was an odd gesture. 

He looked back at Ghost, a fond smile on his lips. But he lost it quickly. 

‘’Oh god he’s licking the blood!’’ He got up and found an old rag, walking up to his CO. 

‘’Don’t lick, dumbass!’’ He dumped water on the man’s hands and wiped them. Ghost still didn’t answer, his hands barely moving. Damn, this blood was sticky. 

Soap tried his best to clean his hands, but felt tears prick his eyes. Why did he give him meat? Why did he give him his gloves? 

‘’Don’t act so kind to me when you’re ignoring me… What am I supposed to do? ‘’ He bumped his forehead against Ghost's torso, or more like his gear. He was breathing evenly, like he was asleep. Soap looked up to him, Ghost’s eyes were dim, unfocused. He was looking at Soap like he was invisible and staring right through him. 

Still, Johnny brought up a cleaned hand to his mouth to kiss it. ‘’Don’t worry, I’ll wait for you to come back. I’ll be there when you need me…’’ 

He slipped Ghost’s gloves back in his hands, with difficulty. Ghost wasn’t helping him, keeping his hands as relaxed as he could. Eventually, Soap settled on one half put on glove and the other put on, but with one or two fingers having missed the finger holes. 

Whatever, it’s good enough. 

He was hungry and roasted meat was on the menu. 

Everyone ate some beans and meat, cooked by a measly fire. Soap had saved some for Ghost, but he never joined them. 

He sat beside him at some point, talking to him, hoping to bring Simon back. 

‘’The sun’s about to set, we’ll have to sleep before Evac. There’s only two tents, why don’t you join me, mh? It’ll be the one on the right. ‘’ He waited, no answer… 

‘’Hey, why don’t you eat, ye? It’s been what, two days? C’mon…’’ He presented the meat, but didn’t have any reaction. 

‘’Help me a bit, here…’’ He reached up for the balaclava, wanting to lift up the bottom so Ghost could eat. But before he could even get close a hand wrapped itself tightly around his wrist, making him gasp in pain. His skin was still sensitive and it felt like Ghost wanted to break his bone. 

‘’Leave it, soldier!’’ Price ordered, and Ghost let go instantly. Soap was left trembling a bit from the pain. But mainly hurt by the action. Ghost was acting kind to him, but didn’t even let him touch him… 

Price joined them and looked over Ghost. 

‘’He’s not eating?’’ Soap only shook his head. ‘’Not talking? ‘’ Another shake. Price seemed to think for a second. ‘’Take his weapons. I don’t want him hurting you. ‘’

Soap was hesitant. He approached his hand but was again rejected. 

‘’Soldier, give your weapons, now. ‘’ Price was using his captain voice, but didn’t receive an answer. He sighed and opened the comms. 

‘’Ghost, do you copy?’’ 

‘’Copy.’’ The answer from the man was immediate, talking into his mic. It’s like he wasn’t seeing them at all. 

‘’Give up your weapons, now. ‘’ He was hesitant, but started stripping himself of his weapons. 

‘’All of them, I don’t want a single blade on you.’’ Price was still talking to him through his headphones. A ridiculous amount of tiny blades were given up. 

‘’Good. Be at rest.’’ Ghost went back to being a sitting duck on the boulder, and Soap gathered the weapons to hide them. They did the same with every other weapon they could find, only keeping a handful on their persons. 

As they sat around the fire,  the sun now set, Soap couldn’t help but steal glances towards Ghost. He hasn't moved from his spot since he got there. 

‘’Worried? ‘’ Price asked, and Soap only nodded. 

‘’Why?’’ He looked at his captain, biting his lip. 

‘’I don’t know, isn’t it worse than usual? It’s been weeks since we saw Simon for more than a couple of minutes…’’ Price sighed, knowing. 

‘’I asked for him to have a med leave, but they refused. If he can fight they’ll keep him.’’ 

‘’They’re using him like a horse.’’ Gaz added, bitter. Soap knew all too well. As long as he could fight they’d keep him in the field. Ghost wasn't helping either, dodging psych evaluations and swearing he’s fine. 

‘’Let’s get to sleep, boys.’’ Price announced, and Soap looked one last time towards Ghost. ‘’He’ll come around. You need rest.’’ Soap nodded and got into his tent, falling asleep was easier than he thought. He was exhausted. 

Hours later, he was woken up by sounds inside the tent, then strong arms circling his waist. 

‘’Simon.’’ He felt relief flood his body, smiling a bit. But he was too tired to move, only appreciating his partner for a few more minutes before he fell back asleep. 

‘’Johnny?’’ The sun was unbearable already, too bright and too warm. But before he could officially wake up, he was unceremoniously flipped on his back. 

‘’What is it, Si?’’ He asked, but didn’t hear anything but a gasp. When he opened his eyes, Simon was already scrambling out of the tent. An attack? A snake? 

He quickly put on some pants and went outside too, but the site was as they left it. When he looked at Ghost, he saw Simon. But Simon wasn’t seeing him. Or at least, that’s what he guessed. He looked absolutely terrified, his hands trembling as he tried to find something to defend himself with. 

‘’Simon, calm down. It’s just me, Johnny. ‘’ He tried to smile at him, but only got a fist swung at him. It was too sloppy to hit him, but the action still hurt his feelings. 

‘’Simon, please, wake up. ‘’ 

He got closer to him, managing to touch his arms. But Simon got away again, until he tripped and fell. 

‘’Are you okay? Simon, please look at me!’’ He crouched in front of him, trying to hold his face, He got punched once in the face, evaded another punch. 

By then Gaz and Price woke up and were beside him. 

‘’What’s happening?! ‘’ 

‘’I don’t know, he woke up and… ‘’ Soap couldn’t finish his sentence, Simon was crying, fear making his whole body tremble. 

He tried to attack him again and this time was stopped and held down by the two other men. He was sobbing, breaking Johnny’s heart. 

‘’Simon, please, it’s just us.’’

‘’C’mon Ghost snap out of it!’’ 

They struggled with the panicked man for longer, before he suddenly stopped moving. 

His face relaxed slightly and his eyes dazed over. The struggle ended just like that. Simon was unresponsive yet again, except this time it was like he died. He let himself be touched and moved by Price and Gaz, barely breathing… 

He stayed in this state until the helicopter arrived, and until he was sent to a psychiatric hospital. He never responded to any stimuli, and when a nurse closed his eyelids for him, he didn’t open them again. 

-----------

Okay it sounded like he died at the end but I'm pretty sure he didn't. Also, I wrote this in one go which is probably bad but I'm too lazy to change anything.

[tinycoded360]

Chapter 12: Luminance Fugue

Will paced the tiny prison cell, hands shaking in rage as he thought of Mathis holding Sage captive. He slammed a fist into the stone wall, ignoring the burst of pain in his knuckles. He had to get out of here. He had to save her.

“Psst…. Hey.” A voice of a man whispered from the barred window into the next-door cell. “Come to the window, we must talk. Stand on the toilet and you can reach the window.”

Will whipped around, surprised at the new voice. He was curious so he complied. Will stood up on the toilet seat and was able to see into the next cell. There was an older man tied to a chair. He could barely see the other man.

“There you are! Well…. welcome to this shitshow.” The other man greeted Will.

“Ok, so who are you?” Will demanded.

“Unfortunately, I run this place.” The other man replied with a deep wariness.

“That doesn’t seem to be working out too well for you.” Will deadpanned.

“Yes, well normally I’m on the other side of the bars. Name’s Franklin. I’m warden here at Blackrock.”

“Name’s Mackenzie. Franklin…what’s going on here?”

“Mathis and his gang of thugs are trying to break someone out of solitary. We’re still alive, for now, so they must need us for something. The power’s been out for days and nobody’s coming to help.”

“Sounds about right. Mathis took someone I care about from me; do you know where he’d keep someone?” Will asked, his heart pounded as he thought of Sage’s terrified face.

“Hmmm, maybe my old office, he’s claimed it as his. I heard…. the commotion earlier, did he take…. a pet of some sort from you?”

“No! She’s not a pet…. She’s a child.” Will hesitated before continuing, he remembered his promise to Sage about not telling others about her, but the damage had already been done. They needed allies. “Have you ever heard of borrowers? She’s a child, about three inches tall, but she’s no different from any other kid.”

“…. you know, I’ve had…. heard of them before. In old folk tales, it says they bring good luck or good fortune to those that show kindness to them. I hope you find her, but she’d most likely be kept in the warden’s office.”

“So…... Mathis, you know him?” Will asked, trying to gather more information and take his mind off his gut-wrenching worry over his tiny child.

“Oh yeah, we go way back. He was in for murder on the mainland about ten years ago. He did some time but got off on parole. He came back here for Donner.”

“Donner?”

“His son. Mathis is bad, but he’s old school bad, murder, larceny, and grand theft auto. But Donner……. he’s all that but worse.”

“So……not a good person.”

“Well, he’s looked up in BlackRock, isn’t he?” Franklin paused then continued. “Donner is evil to the core. There’s no redemption for guys like Donner. They should have been able to break him out by now. But something’s wrong. Or someone…. Has been getting in the way.”

Both men tense at the sounds of multiple footsteps echoing down the hall. Mackenzie scrambles down and stands in the middle of his cell. Just in time as Mathis and his men come into view. Mackenzie can only stand and watch as Mathis enters Franklin’s cell.

Mackenzie flinches as he hears Mathis interrogate Franklin. Mathis grows angry, especially when Franklin mentions Donner. In his anger Mathis starts to beat Franklin. Once Mathis has finished beating up the old Warden, he turns to two of his lackeys and orders them to patch the man up. “Heller! Vachon! Take care of this mess.”

Mathis glares at Mackenzie as he walks by.

Heller curses under his breath. “There’s no way I’m going out there again."

“Well, we’re out of medical supplies, one of us has to go out and fetch something.” Vachon replied.

“Why don’t you do it, I’m not messing with those wolves, they’ve gotten worse.”

“I went last time.”

“Well, if one of us doesn’t go, boss will kill us himself, he’s gotten more unstable.”

“I’ll do it.” Mackenzie piped up. Both convicts turn to him in surprise.

“And why would we let you out, you’d run and never come back.”

"The warden's dying," Will said flatly. "He needs medical attention, or he won't make it through the night. And plus, Mathis is holding my little girl hostage, I’ll be back."

Heller and Vachon exchanged glances. Finally, Heller jerked his head. "Go. But any funny business, and the girl pays the price."

Will grit his teeth. "Understood."

*******

The outdoor air was cold and bitter. Mackenzie was annoyed that Mathis’s thugs refused to give him his coat back, he’d have to look for a new one. He only had his sweater and basic clothing. They took everything he had from him. He’d have to collect some more stuff and stash it somewhere before he returned. He had to make plans for his future escape. The courtyard of the prison compound was relatively safe. But to get to the old infirmary, he’d have to step out into the outer fenced section. But there was danger lurking. A pack of hungry wolves stalked the outer and inner gates. He must be careful.

*****

Will’s pulse hammered in his ears as he navigated the dimly lit corridors of the prison infirmary. The infirmary, once sterile and ordered, was now a scene of chaos. Overturned gurneys and shattered glass crunched underfoot. His eyes swept over the baren shelves until they landed on a bulky emergency medkit, sealed and intact. Before he could grab it, he startled at a sound he was not expecting to hear.

*Ring* *Ring*

Mackenzie turns to the old phone on the wall in almost disbelief. He’s not sure how this works when nothing else has. Still in a state of disbelief he reaches out and picks up the phone.

“Who is this? And where are you calling me from?” Mackenzie asked into the phone.

An unknown female voice answers. “Somewhere safe. Look Mister Mackenzie, soon you’re going to have to figure out whose side you’re on in this little stalemate we have going on.”

“I don’t know anything about a stalemate. And I’m on my own side.”

“Well at least you’re honest.”

“Where are you and what do you want?” Mackenzie demanded.

“That question has a long answer. Right now, I’m safe from those prison assholes. But I cannot say the same for you.”

“Look, the prison warden…. he’s injured. I’m just trying to keep him alive and rescue someone that Mathis took from me.”

“So…. They let you out of the prison? Then they’re just going to let you back in?”

“Right.” Mackenzie replied realizing how unlikely that sounded.

“But you aren’t helping them?” The unknown called asked in clear skepticism.

“I’m not helping them.”

“Something about this situation…...about you…. doesn’t fit.”

“Look why don’t you tell me where you are and maybe I can help you.”

“Help me? The caller sounded amused. “Shit man, you can’t even help yourself.”

“Are you the one that’s messing up the convict’s plans?” Mackenzie asking, trying put puzzle pieces together.

“Maybe I am, maybe I’m not. Either way, I’m not telling you. How do I know you aren’t really one of Donner’s boys?”

“Donner…...so you know about him.”

“Wake up man. This is all about Donner. Don’t you get that? And I’m the only thing standing between that fucker rotting away in solitary and an evil man being unleashed on the rest of this hellhole.”

“Well, I hear the summers are nice here.” Mackenzie replied trying to lighten the mood.

“Take care of yourself, Mr. Mackenzie. Those wolves sound pretty hungry to me.” With that the call ended.

“Well, that was weird.” Mackenzie muttered to himself under his breath.

Back to his original task, Mackenzie grabbed the medkit and retraced his steps, each creak and groan of the building setting his nerves on edge. Will's mouth was dry, his breaths coming in short, ragged gasps as he pushed onward, driven by the singular thought of saving Franklin... and Sage.

The final stretch was a blur of shadow and adrenaline. Will pressed on, pushing his body beyond exhaustion, driven by the knowledge that with each second lost, the warden's breaths could be slipping away.

As sprinted across the open grounds toward the main prison building, the medkit clutched in his grasp, Will knew that the true test was just beginning.

****** “Yeah, you’d better get in there to see him.” Vachon told him as he searched him then lead him to Franklin’s cell.

The warden lay slumped against the chair he was tied to, his breathing shallow.

"Franklin," Will gasped, dropping to his knees beside the battered man, the emergency medkit springing open with a click.

"Stay with me," Will murmured, his fingers steady despite the quake of urgency that threatened to overtake him. He reached for an ampule of adrenaline, snapping the top with practiced ease. The needle plunged into Franklin's vein, a silent prayer accompanying the push of the plunger.

As the drug coursed through the warden’s body, Will wrapped a compression bandage tightly around the man's ribcage, stemming the tide of bruising that painted his skin in violent shades. Franklin's eyelids flickered—a subtle but promising sign.

"Good," Will whispered, more to himself than to the semi-conscious man before him. His hands moved with care, cleaning cuts, and applying antiseptic with the tenderness of a craftsman.

"Who the hell are you?" Franklin croaked, the words barely audible, laced with pain and gratitude.

“Relax, it’s me your neighbor from the other side of the wall.”

“Ah…. you.”

“I cleaned you up the best I could.”

“Thanks, you seem to know a fair bit of first aid.”

“Well…...I’m marr……I uh…. know a doctor.”

“We’d better hurry before the guards get back. There’s something I need to tell you about the prison.”

“I’m listening.”

“Solitary. It’s……. it’s on its own locking circuits. Separated from the rest of the prison. Mathis and his guys……haven’t figured that out yet.”

“But when they do?”

“When they do, they’ll get Donner out. I can’t figure it out, but someone is out there. Messing with the system.”

“I might have an idea of who it is.” Mackenzie admitted with a sigh.

“You see someone out there?”

“Not saw but I talked to someone on the phone.”

“Right! The old rotary phone system would still work.”

Before they could finish their conversation, clear signs that Mathis and his men where walking down the hallway towards their location.

With panic and urgency Mackenzie rushes back to his cell, so he’s not caught by Mathis. He makes it just in take as Mathis approaches the cells. Mathis stands before his cell and then reaches out and pushes his cell door open. Showing that it isn’t locked. Mathis turns to glare at his cronies.

“He……hey how’d that happen? Vachen said, trying to act surprised.

 “Wow! Yeah, must be glitchy.” Heller agreed. Trying to play it off.

Mathis chuckles as he enters Mackenzie’s cell. “These Idiots think I’m a fool, I know they were too chicken to take care of the warden themselves. And they sent you out into the cold to do their dirty work.”

“Where is Sage? Is she ok, is she hurt?” Mackenzie asked.

“Who’s Sage.” Mathis mocked.

“The tiny child you took from me.” Mackenzie glared. If his look could murder, Mathis would be dead ten times over.

“Oh! I remember…. your tiny pet.” Mathis reached into his pant pocket and pulled at the tiny wiggling form of Sage. Mathis held the tiny child in a tight fist. Not caring for the tiny girl’s comfort. Sage gave Will such a sad and pleading look, she stretched out her tiny arms to him, with a pleading desperate look on her tiny face. Mackenzie’s heart broke. Mathis' fingers closed around Sage's tiny form like a vice, his cruel eyes gleaming with malice.

"Please, Mathis," Mackenzie pleaded, desperation evident in his voice. "She's just a child! You have a child too, you must understand!"

Mathis sneered at him, tightening his grip on Sage. "This little rat ain't human," he spat out, disgust coloring his words. "And if you ever compare my son to this...this thing again, I'll rip her tiny limbs off." Sage sobbed in fear, her small body trembling in Mathis' merciless grip.

“Please let me hold her, she’s scared. I’ll do what you want, just please give her back to me.” Mackenzie begged, holding his palm out for the tiny child.

“Oh no. You want her back; you’ll have to earn that.” Mathis sneered, holding Sage up aloft and away from Mackenzie’s reach.

[rhys-writes-some-shit]

The Dilemma of a Rubber Duck

Alastor x Reader (Queer-Platonic) ft. Bestie Lucifer

(TW: Mentions of depression, mentions of suicide attempts)

You knew Alastor didn’t like Lucifer. You weren’t 100% sure why, only that the King of Hell really got on Alastor’s nerves. Ever since Lucifer had moved into the hotel in the aftermath of the battle with the angels, Alastor had spent hours ranting and raving to you about him. They were constantly trying to one-up each other. It was comical, really.

Except that you were stuck in the middle of it. 

Unlike Alastor, you and Lucifer had hit it off right away, getting along like two peas in a pod. There was a certain camaraderie that came with being clinically depressed and still having to force a smile, which both you and Lucifer were experts at. Many late nights had been spent exchanging stories and finding humor in things other people might not otherwise find humorous. 

(“I tried to kill myself twice, and then end up getting hit by a car! That’s how I end up in Hell? What did I do all that work for?” That was the first time that story had been met with laughter, and that was when you knew Lucifer was a good guy.)

You were constantly thinking about how Alastor would react to knowing you enjoyed hanging out with Lucifer, or vice versa. It worried you to no end, so you tried to keep your friendship with Lucifer under wraps, for Alastor’s sake. He needed someone to back him up, and you wanted to be that person. You wanted Alastor to know he could trust you.

One evening, you and Lucifer were talking in the parlor, drinking tea. Alastor was out for a fancy Overlord meeting, so you were able to relax a bit. 

“I’m so glad we have Niffty around,” you were saying. “Sometimes I just can’t find the energy to do my laundry, but I know that if I leave it on the floor, she’ll take care of it right away.” You thought for a moment. “It’s not like I’m forcing her to do it. Or taking advantage of her. Right?”

“Nah, I thought cleaning was her job,” Lucifer reassured. “My loophole with that is all my outfits are the same. Also magic. Magic is very helpful.”

“Man, I’m jealous!” You gave a lighthearted groan. “I wish I could have magic like that.”

“Who’s saying you can’t?” Lucifer shrugged, sipping at his tea. 

You snorted. “Have you seen me? Do I look like Overlord material to you?”

“I didn’t think Mr. Crimson Asshole was an Overlord, so looks aren’t everything.” Lucifer hesitated. “Oh, shit, I shouldn’t have said it like that. You two are like, dating, right?”

You made a ‘fifty-fifty’ gesture with your hand. “Eh… Not really? It’s like… a mutual relationship. Neither of us are the ‘dating’ type, so we just kind of… vibe. But it’s fine, I get it. You should hear the things he says about you.”

“Oh?” Lucifer leaned forward, curious. You mimed zipping your lips, grinning playfully. “Alrighty then, keep your secrets.”

The feeling of guilt you’d been getting used to returned, but you smiled past it. If there was anything Alastor taught you, it was that you could hide everyone behind a smile. And it worked, for the most part. The only person who’d ever been able to see though it was Alastor himself. Similarly, you were the only person able to see through his ever-present smile.

Setting his cup down, Lucifer waited for a lull in the conversation. “Before I forget, I have something for you.” With a wave of his hand, a little yellow rubber duck appeared in his palm. Its features and markings made it resemble you. 

Eyes wide, you carefully took the duck from his hands like it were an actual duckling.

“This one doesn’t breathe fire or anything, but…” Lucifer paused, like he was struggling for words. “I haven't had a real friend in… a really long time. S-so I wanted to thank you. For that.”

You were at a loss for words. The only other person to get you gifts since you’d died had been Alastor. That feeling of guilt hit you like a train, but it was masked with a bright, grateful smile.

“Lucifer, I… I’m honored. Thank you.” You struggled to tear your eyes away from the duck. “Can I hug you?”

Instead of replying, Lucifer pulled you out of your chair, hugging you close. You matched it, hoping your appreciation for his existence was properly conveyed.

“Ahem.”

You and Lucifer pushed each other apart like a teenage couple caught making out. Alastor was standing in the entrance to the parlor, teeth bared. His grin was sharp, borderline violent, and his eyes were narrowed. 

“Al,” you tried, but no other words followed.

Then Alastor sighed, and the murderous look in his eyes disappeared. You were still holding the duck Lucifer had given you. Looking down, you realized you were shaking, and felt a little faint. 

You stumbled back, right into Alastor’s arms. Head spinning, you allowed him to set you down on the chair. Alastor kept a hand on your arm, watching your every movement with surgical focus. He knew, you realized. He knew how guilty you felt, how much anxiety it was causing you. How long he’d known, you had no idea, but you could feel it in the way he wouldn’t let you go. You didn’t want him to let you go. 

“Are you okay?” Lucifer looked frantic, obviously worried. “Do you need water? Something to eat? Medicine? I’m sure there’s some around here somewhere, if you just give me a minute—”

“I’m fine,” you interrupted, trying to muster a smile. You failed. How Alastor held his grin all day, every day, was a mystery to you. “Well, okay, maybe not fine.”

“They could use water,” Alastor provided, only a slight edge in his voice. Nodding, Lucifer ran off to get a glass of water, leaving you and Alastor alone in the parlor. 

Alastor was silent for a moment. You could tell he was trying to figure out what to say. “I apologize for not noticing your anxiety sooner.” A little joy fluttered in your chest. Alastor enjoyed watching everyone’s suffering—everyone except for you.

“It’s not your fault,” you told him. “I should’ve been more upfront. I just…” You were still a little shaky. Alastor’s hand moved so it rested over your hand. The rubber duck was still in your other hand, and you turned it over with your fingers, fidgeting with it. “I didn’t want you to leave me.”

“Now that is nonsense if I ever heard any!” Alastor laughed. “What a ridiculous sentiment, my dear. It would take more than that to take me from you, I assure you.”

“But I know how much you hate him.” You looked towards the direction Lucifer had gone. “You hate that he’s here. You hate that he’s meddling. And this is just another reason to hate him.”

Alastor was contemplating his words again when Lucifer came back. He gently handed you the glass of water, causing you to have to put your duck down. Alastor was right to ask for it—the water helped. The air was tense as Lucifer and Alastor glared at one another while also keeping an eye on you. 

“When you are happy, I am happy,” Alastor said out of the blue. Both you and Lucifer looked to him for clarification. “If talking with Lucifer makes you happy…” Alastor swallowed, gritting his teeth, glowering deeply at Lucifer, “then, by that logic, it makes me happy.”

“Hey, same here.” Lucifer put his arms up symbolically. “I’m not gonna leave my friend just because I hate their boyfriend– er, whatever you are, that is.”

“Partner,” you and Alastor said in unison.

“Right. That.” 

The air was still tense, but it made you feel better knowing that Alastor and Lucifer wouldn’t be fighting over you, at the very least. 

“Okay,” you said suddenly, having finished your water. “I’m going to bed. Thanks again for the duck, Lucifer.”

You barely heard Alastor growl at Lucifer upon realizing that he’d given you a gift, but it just caused you to smile fondly. Alastor was quick to step in beside you, taking your arm to escort you up to your room. 

“You’re welcome!” Lucifer called back. “But don’t think that just because you and Alastor are partners that I’ll make one for him too!” You had to stifle a laugh. Lucifer was too sweet for his own good, no matter how awkward it made him seem.

You turned so Lucifer could see your grin. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

[sydneighsays]

More quick Jee doodles 🎉

[zukkaoru]

My ninth grade English teacher walks us through the prologue of Romeo & Juliet, explaining how it serves as a synopsis of the play, and how it spoils the ending. Here are our characters, here is where they live, here is why their love is forbidden. You will spend the next two hours learning to love them only for their blood to spill across the stage. This is the only ending they were ever meant for.

There is no universe in which Romeo & Juliet can survive.

jujutsu kaisen, gege akutami || a collection of tragedies, zukkaoru (march 15, 2023)

[id in alt text]

[ouroborosorder]

So, Deepcolor's oprec released, and upon reading a summary of it, I basically felt the entire world of Arknights click into place. Hear me out.

Deepcolor's Oprec details that Deepcolor was convinced by a messenger of the Cult of the Deep to become Seaborn. But she stopped her own assimilation when she realized that the Seaborn do not appreciate aesthetic beauty. She was disgusted, and literally left and stopped her own assimilation entirely due to her love of art, and has been holding it back with her painting.

And this made me realize. This is true of every character with seaborn blood who has resisted assimilation. Skadi sings. Specter sings. Laurentina sculpts. Gladiia dances. Mizuki cooks. Deepcolor is a painter. Amaia still translated books long after she had become Seaborn. Garcia played the piano. Lorenzo cared for the Stultifera.

Which also means...

... Anita was never assimilated. Not fully.

But this makes sense, even outside of a "art holds back the darkness" power of friendship-tier story beat. Assimilation is the surrendering of the individual self to unity, the acceptance that you do not matter, that all that matters is giving your life and your existence to the perpetuation of a greater Whole. They cultivate only to consume. They sing, but their song is a profound silence.

And what is more individualistic, more self-revealing than art? There is no artistic expression without the self, without the understanding that you are a distinct voice, that your perspective matters, that there is only one you.

Perhaps you may have noticed, but this is the same as the Yan-Sui. They hold back the collective with their individual passions. Painting, movies, poetry, games, war.

There's one other thing with a connection to artistic expression - but this time, positively. Originium Arts. Artistic ability has long been associated with Originium Arts capability - Amiya plays the violin, Frostnova sings as she enters the battlefield, Goldenglow's hairdressing, Astesia's divination powering her arts, Lucian the Blood Diamond. I mean they're called Arts for the love of god, it's not exactly subtle.

But the Rhine Lab manga tells us that when an Oripathy carrier dies, the Originium left behind contains their DNA sequence, left behind after death. They may die, but there is something that is always left behind, something that always remains behind. There is always the thing that let them do their Arts. There is always their artistic ability.

There is always their art.

You do your art until you are taken by death, but what remains behind is the traces of it, the artistic DNA you have left behind, your Arts itself. You're gone, but the remnants are still there. And someone else will find it, taking your Arts into themselves to do their own Arts themselves. Sometimes it becomes part of you, living with you and growing inside you, granting you your abilities. Sometimes you simply hold it and use it as fuel and inspiration to make your own Arts.

And this is always what Arknights has been about. Not just metaphorically, but literally.

They hired individual artists, asking them to make characters according to their own sensibilities and style, then putting them into a cohesive world. They got talented musicians and gave them carte blanche to contribute to the musical identity of this game. They got talented voice actors and let them just go ham on the mic. The game's story concept debatably originated because of Lowlight creating Kal'tsit for a make your own OC art game.

It has always been about individuals, putting everything they have, everything that makes them unique, every part of their histories and sensibilities and quirks and personalities and identity and selfish desires and allowing them to shine as a collaborative effort, working together towards a greater goal that means something to people.

An organization of people, Infected by the artistic DNA of those they carry close. People using their Arts to push back the darkness, as best as they can. Even if they stumble and fall, even if they make mistakes, they will always try. To enjoy their life and practice their art.

Because the two greatest threats to the world of Terra, the Seaborn and Sui, are held back by.. simple artistic passion.

The passion and love of the community, the individual given space to shine and collaborate, singing to drown out the terror of the song without sound, the art without beauty, and the collective without the individual.

[orangez3st]

What actually happened to Rex's batchmates?

Here's my take on this, because atm I'm writing a fanfic about Cadet!Rex as well so I'm appealing for his fanon cadet fate.

I respect both "Rex's batchmates are all decommissioned because the whole batch is defective but Cody and the others saved him so now he's got PTSD from child ab**e" and "Rex got bullied because of his mutated blond hair" fanons (uh hey where did this begin? Had those been widely accepted headcanon that it became fanon eventually? I'm revisiting this fandom and am just stepping my foot into the fanon so maybe safe to say I'm kinda-but-not-really new) but... Hear me out.

(Future me, approx 2 hours after starting this post: okay this post turns out to be so long you might wanna sit down)

Disclaimer again; I don't hate those fanons but it's kinda bothersome to me (so cruel omg idek if he'd been really strong for, what, just 10 years haunted by child ab**e trauma, based on majority fic depiction? and said trauma lasted into the clone wars even? uh, really? more in 10) that I've pieced the puzzle myself on how one may approach this matter from another angle.

Facts i (we) know about clones

As far as we know, they have batchmates and squadmates.

Not only are they genetically engineered with accelerated physical stamina, they are also capable of withholding more stress than the average natborn. This is due to the fact that war soldiers generally suffer PTSD and the Kaminoans wanted to create Tupperware clone army. Thus, to a certain extent, genetically, clones prove to be more emotionally stable – mind you, that doesn't mean they're not immune to PTSD and other related traumas. There were clones who defected from the army just because they couldn't handle it anymore. As cruel as this might sound, yeah; there's something wrong with their programming.

There are 3 known mass-produced clone types: CT (Clone Trooper), CC (Clone Commando), and RC (Republic Commando). Each type is made? cloned? bred? separately. Obviously.

Clones are engineered to be obedient and submissive to order and structure. CT has the most extreme levels of this alteration, meanwhile CC has less, due to their supposed strategic position in command they have to adjust to every possible scenario thrown at them, eventually concocting tactically effective battle plans.

Mutations and defective traits are different. Mutations are uniquely positive and genetically induced or by experiment, while defective traits pop up due to poor maintenance or accidents. Kaminoan scientists are willing enough to tolerate mutations as long as it causes no further problems (like Blue Eyes), while they deem the ones with defective traits totally unfit for combat (like 99).

So, to stress and/or narrow them down:

Clones, regardless of type, are capable of handling more stress and adapting to situations quickly.

#GodlikeKaminoanEngineering (or so they say): Nothing wrong with programming = wouldn't suffer trauma and/or related disorders. (Idk if this hypothetically would apply irl. If there's any legit research about this particularly, point me to the journal article lol I'd love to check it out tho I'm not a huge bio fan. Intriguing all the same.)

Nothing wrong with programming = wouldn't defect. Clone Force 99 is a special case, though. (This point is completely unrelated to Rex but I think still worth mentioning)

CT's aren't that much capable of putting all hands on deck in strategy talks (that's what the CC's are for). All they know is to wait for orders from command and follow them thoroughly and make sure the job's done. However, they may or may not develop those traits themselves and finally take initiative basically becoming a kriffin badass CC intern, like Rex.

Genetic mutations, as we know or may assume, consist of change in physical appearance. This could mean lighter skin tone, not-Jango-Fett eye color, or not-so-Jango-Fett hair color. This is due to recessive genes. Jango's sister Arla has natural blond hair, you guys.

Therefore, from my perspective, Rex is in possession of genetic mutations and definitely not defective traits.

Combined with his standard CT emotional intelligence, excellent combat skill, his (pre-Skywalker) undying love for order and structure, and if not little acts of valor that undeniably has to show during his cadet years (I mean it would carry on into his ARC training and first months of the Clone Wars that he's given jaig eyes), I see no reason why he would be bullied and shunned by the rest of his batch.

If any, they regard him with so much respect because he shines – gloriously – throughout his training and essentially be the local pride. He's their brother, after all! Their vod! That's how he would've caught Cody and the other's attention too.

☝🏼🤓 I do accept the fanon that he's a batch behind them. I can't think of a reason. Might as well be freeform. And it's cute.

So.

That's the baseline, for clones.

Now we move on to the man himself.

(on gif above) That is so Cody-coded, Rex.

(1) Decommissioned batchmates

Tbh not sure what being decommissioned means, but given the generally grim and threatening implication that it strikes enough terror and neck-breaking amount of trauma to Rex of this fanon, it's gotta mean being terminated(?). Correct me if I'm wrong, but for now I'm rolling with that.

Rex exhibits excellent capabilities on field during his training that it easily captures his trainer's attention. A transfer to the CC command training sounds possible, I think, since y'know, Ponds is a CT as well and I'd like to think he's above Rex that the rank Commander is permissible for him (yes yes Rex is given the Commander promotion but he turned it down because he favors fighting up in the front with his men I am a firm believer of this as well). So he just gets separated from his batchmates and situated himself in the new brotherhood.

Also here's my baseless debunking because I just don't know any of those biology-related stuff.

I just don't think every single of his batchmates are so defective that the Kaminoans pulled the genoc**e card. It's just... Not possible. Math and probability, anyone? Hello?

Assuming the only reason for being decommissioned is for possessing defective traits so bad that it's worse than 99, the Kaminoans have no excuse to pull the genoc**e card just because a clone gets blond hair instead of Jango's black hair. As much as I support them being the most ultimate of assholes, I don't think they'd waste resources just like that.

So, in conclusion of this one; I think not. Rex's batchmates are very much alive and well and kicking droid ass during campaigns :)

(2) Traumatized Rex

Fanon: Rex with child ab**e trauma and, in conjunction, PTSD because he witnessed his batchmates get decommissioned.

I shall assume he carries this trauma even to the Clone Wars period.

Oh hang on, okay, he's defective because he's traumatized? Or is it the other way around; he gets traumatized that it somehow affects his already-defected emotional intelligence? What about his coping mechanism, is it defected as well? If the decommissioning of his brothers affects him so much he couldn't cope and carries with him the trauma, I don't think he'd be fit to go further since the start, or even earn those jaig eyes.

One thing about Rex is that he's brave. Since we're working with existing materials to create this headcanon, and that the jaig eyes itself is important, the jaig eyes still gotta be there. He earns it because he commits acts of valor in the battlefield – because he is a man of honor. Rex is very much aware of his emotional state, aware of the proper time and place; when to break down and when to put on a strong façade, because he's that selfless. He puts his men first. He cares about his men. He regards every single troop as his brother. First in, last out. An inspirational figure with strong will, always trying his best being the prime example and morale to his men.

Aside from the genetic stress inhibitor traits, Rex is a strong man, physically and mentally. In line with my previous point about how implausible and improbable it is that every single of his batchmates gets decommissioned, with this fanon scenario, I don't think Rex would be some guy who easily succumbs to trauma. He'd push on through and survive, and lo and behold. Canon-wise, he does. Still does.

(3) Why is he bullied 😭

My poor little meow meow of a heart can't take it. I don't know what this version of Rex is supposed to be bullied for? But if it's because of his blond hair IT'S NOT DEFECTIVE TRAIT it's genetic mutation. Even the majority of the clones sport black hair and brown eyes Jango style and only some of them sport brown hair or lighter, and even fewer of blond hair. And the Kaminoans allow it, as seen in 302.

Look at him he's precious. Some may think he's overrated, but he's just being him. No wonder he's majority's favorite. So with all that said, I rest my case.

Sorry that took so long and much of your time, but for my part, I'm glad I got those out of me. I might write my Rex and the other's headcanon in the future. Mentioned I'm writing a Cadet!Rex fic, so there's the link, if you're interested.

And don't get me started with the natural vs dyed blond thing. I'm a firm believer that Rex is a natural blond, and I've written the reason somewhere above.

Thank you for coming to my TED talk. You may use this headcanon in your adaptations if you'd like. Cheers!

[feelo-fick]

Headcanon: Chilchuck and his Bad Takes on Literature

i think chilchuck would be like my mom in the sense that he wouldnt like sad stories. dont get me wrong, cautionary tales? absolutely fine. they serve a purpose to him which is to tell people "dont be an idiot and do this or else something bad will happen"

generally sad or angsty stories though? no point to him, and in his perspective its really confusing how people just read things that make them sad. like whats the use of reading something if its just gonna make you sad. whats the lesson? its not even real so it doesnt help anyone.

whats the point in making yourself cry when you could just avoid that entirely by not reading it at all?

but the one of the biggest reasons why sad stories exist is to let you release all the built up grief in you. to send you something to let out all your emotions in a healthy way. catharsis. empathy.

even when i dont relate to the tragic experiences in some stories, several ones ive read have lead me to realize that im in a bad situation or that im following in the footsteps of the character suffering. its like a wake up call.

and making yourself cry isnt inherently a bad thing. if crying allows you to let go of building pressure and tension in you then thats good!

but chil wouldnt see that. of course he wouldnt, hes avoidant of most situations that would allow him to release emotion, and fearful of letting his mature (read: repressed) persona slip.

hes someone that runs away to quick comforts and distractions at the earliest sign of issue. hes already been in too many horrifying situations, dealing with another is a pain. and he knows denying everything and refusing to look at the situation doesnt help, but it definitely provides a quick and easy happiness in the comfort of ignorance.

because of this, reading something made to make one empathize with and confront these bad emotions is defeating the point of his cowering. if he faces his issues, even if only through the perspective of a story, he'd have to deal with acknowledging that things are bad and need fixing, and he'd feel terrible and guilty in the moment - which of course is the worst thing that could happen to a person (his thought, not mine).

which is why i find the concept of him being/becoming a tragedy himself at the same time as this headcanon soooo interesting. imagine the irony of him bashing on the protagonists of tragic stories for acting on emotion and impulse rather than logic, when he himself has fallen victim to irrational thinking while in grief.

cause... thats what people do when they grieve. they lash out, make bad decisions, ruin themselves, ruin others.

for a tragedy to be prevented, the protagonists would have to change fundamental parts of themselves, and act perfectly rational when under extreme stress. and chilchuck holds himself to these kinds of unrealistic standards because he unwittingly believes he can handle it all.

he cant, obviously. we see it for ourselves in his relationship with his wife. they were doomed from the beginning by chils already-established avoidance and lack of emotional vulnerabiltiy (and whatever else his wife had going on).

this is all just to say that if you told him about orpheus and eurydice, he'd probably be one of those idiots trying to point out the "plot hole" that he couldve "just not looked back" and "just trusted her"

i dont understand. whats the point in reading tragedies? the protagonist is stupid, anyways. why would you take bitter medicine? why subject yourself to that?

i think its just a bad story.

[i-eat-large-amounts-of-pasta]

I don't understand why I never hear people talking about Wreck-it Ralph. Maybe it's because it's not something that adults nowadays are nostalgic about or something, but I loved that movie. I still do. It's one of those movies that nobody talked about because it wasn't awful and wasn't perfect. It was just really good.

But it's SUCH A GOOD MOVIE. It's a movie about being a fish out of water, about coming to terms with the consequences of your actions, and making friends who love you for all your flaws. But most of all, it's about coming to love yourself for all of your flaws. Self-acceptance is a core theme especially in the climax of the film. Ralph is only able to beat King Candy by accepting himself and using his unique skills to help in spite of his label as a "bad guy". He is not defined by the label he was given. He doesn't need other people to tell him who he is anymore.

The one quote that I'll never forget, one which helps me to know myself, is said once at the beginning of the film and once at the end, with both having completely different context

"I'm bad, and that's good. I will never be good, and that's not bad. There is no one I'd rather be Than me."

This is significant to me in ways I don't have the words to describe sometimes. I am broken. The way I see the world is fundamentally different to most other people. There are others who are also warped in similar ways, who see the same bent shapes as me. Ralph is not alone, and neither am I. Neither are you. Don't let other people tell you who you are. Life isn't binary. Make friends with people who understand and love you for exactly who you are, and remember to extend them the same courtesy to them. Don't treat people differently based on what labels society has given them.

All these lessons from an animated comedy movie for kids that's rated 87% on Rotten Tomatoes.

If you haven't watched this movie, I highly encourage it. It's still my favorite Disney film (followed closely by Treasure Planet) and still watch it from time to time. It's just called Wreck-It Ralph and it's on Disney Plus. Or pirate it. I don't really care. I hold an immense amount of disdain for Disney, sooooooo...

[sandeewithtwoe]

This is what happens when someone tells me I can “go ahead”

EDIT: NEW DOC HERE

[nothankyoudear]

Merlin and Arthur are different.

Merlin has inky black hair. Arthur has hair that shines like gold in the sun.

Merlin is skinny, with wrists so thin Arthur swears he could almost snap. Arthur is built with power in every gesture of his arm.

Merlin is bad with a sword. Arthur is not.

Merlin stands down and thinks in moments of panic or distress. Arthur is headstrong, and charges into battle with the stubbornness of a prince.

Merlin has perpetually cold hands and cold feet, ears constantly tinted red. Arthur radiates heat like a cackling fireplace, burning through cold December nights.

Merlin has compassion enough to drown out an army, and tends to animals like they were of his own kin. All Arthur has ever known is to kill and crush.

Merlin kisses with all the gentleness in the world, with sweet touches and murmurs against soft lips. Arthur bites, ferocious in everything he does.

Merlin loves quietly through teasing remarks and longing gazes. Arthur loves like he may die tomorrow, forever clinging and resting his life down in the palms of another.

Merlin cries in times of trouble and despair. Arthur, through years of conditioning and in no fault of his own, does not.

Yet, despite their differences, they still manage.

Merlin's cold melts under Arthur's forever warm palms. His lack of grace with a sword is also simply rendered natural, as it becomes unnecessary with Arthur following his every footstep.

Arthur's roughness and moments of brutality are smoothed out by touches of Merlin's fingers and glances of quiet pleading, like the raw edge of wood under sand paper; A lion tamed by its own will. Merlin still kisses, and Arthur still bites, though the bites are reduced to nips, as Arthur cannot see himself hurting Merlin in any universe.

Arthur still loves hard, desperate and aching. But this time, when he hands his life into the palm of another, Merlin is there to cradle his heart with tender hands.

A coin is not a coin with only one side, and despite their differences, neither Merlin nor Arthur can bear to live without the other.

[myvirtuesuncounted]

why pjo's portrayal of the greek gods is fucked up and how it's affected perceptions surrounding ancient Greece.

*breaks down the door to your inbox with an axe*

start talking now oh my god I want to hear your hot take so bad. I've been interested in religious studies (primarily the Hellenistic and early Roman religious atmosphere (of course acknowledging that the word religion is post-Enlightenment and conceives of supernatural belief as a subjective individual belief, which is inconsistent with how supernatural matters were dealt with in the Ancient world) and how they intersect with early Christianity and proto-Christianity) and I've been fascinated with the Greek gods and I need your hot take on why their portrayal is wrong and leads to incorrect assumptions about Ancient Greece.

oh you bet your bottom dollar i will talk about this. true to the post from which this originated, i will prep no material and all this is off the top of my head so don't quote me!

If you follow my Greek mythology sideblog, you'll know i am unequivocally a Zeus defender. Now I can make a million posts about Zeus alone but I will take a more holistic approach on the gods in general and the perception of Ancient Greece.

The West has been obsessed with Ancient Greece for centuries: the culture, philosophy, history, mythology, mathematical and scientific advancements, and much more. Now it's one thing to take interest in a country's history or a historical era; it is completely another to claim it as your own and make it an ideal state of life to achieve, because if you know literally anything about Ancient Greece, it was anything but. What I'm trying to say here is that Ancient Greek culture has been commodified, glorified, rewritten, and reclaimed by the West when it was never theirs to do so. I've often seen this sentiment expressed by Greeks about their homeland: "The history comes first, the people second." I think a prime modern example of this mindset was when same-sex marriage was legalised in Greece, which was a huge step forward for an Orthodox country with an extensive history of homophobia, but people outside of Greece began making jokes of Greece "returning to their own values" (referring to Ancient Greek practices of pederasty which is hugely problematic and not at all representative of any gay rights if you know what it entails) and people excited to "finally hold lesbian weddings in Lesbos" (signifying the West's perception of Greece as simply a tourist hotspot and not a country with an intricate history and culture). In short, Greece is already unfairly used for the West's agenda of glorification and attempts to build itself a culture that frankly isn't theirs at all.

Now, how does this involve pjo? A lot, my friends, a fucking lot. The publication and popularity of the Percy Jackson series has simply exacerbated all the aforementioned issues in this post. First off, the worldbuilding on which The Lightning Thief relied and the rest of the series ultimately holds is that "Olympus moves with the centre of Western power", which is just. Wow. There are a million things wrong with this concept that would need its own post, so I recommend this article called The Whitening Thief that essentially explains the white supremacy of it all. If you do not want to read the full article, the main premise is that the Percy Jackson series equates Westernism with civilisation and that without it there was "chaos and darkness", which as Paule describes it, is "sipping at a pretty racist cocktail".

note: I have realised how aggressively off-topic this is to the original statement I made, I'm getting there, I promise (although I did warn you it was something I could talk on for hours with little material)

Let's finally delve into the depiction of Greek gods in Percy Jackson. I'll actually start on a bit of a positive note that apart from the weird (for lack of a better term) comparisons of Hades to Adolf Hitler, the original Percy Jackson and the Olympians had some okay characterisation of the gods (I have some reservations about the goddesses on which I will elaborate later). They're prideful and neglectful parents (the myths actually contradict that latter part but I digress) but each with their own complexities and concerns. To use Zeus as an example because he's actually the god who falls short the most in terms of consistent characterisation in my opinion, he lets Percy live in TLT "for the sake of peace in [his] family", indicating a care and sense of duty for Olympus and for his fellow gods, and while he lets his pride and paranoia get the better of him at times, he is shown as a serious authority figure and someone who's trying to keep his realm together, and such characteristics wouldn't be too far off from his mythical counterpart.

But as the series progresses, either Rick got lazy or he attempted to further capitalise his work to make it more palpable, he turns the gods into caricatures by excessively inflating one characteristic they may have into their entire personalities. Returning to Zeus, his paranoia is amplified to an absurd extent that one can simply not fathom why the gods would be the better option than the Titans. As I said initially, he had bouts of paranoia that would be almost normal for someone with such a powerful position, but this is completely derailing any connection with his mythological counterpart, he may as well be an OC with the same name and title as him. To use other gods as an example because I promised a holistic approach and I have seemed to only talk about Zeus (sorry!), the writing of the goddesses Hera, Artemis, Aphrodite, and Athena is simply misogynistic. I'm sorry, there is no other way I can find myself to describe it. Typically feminine goddesses Hera and Aphrodite are extremely demonised and condemned for their flaky and vain attitude; Hera is the evil stepmother archetype and Aphrodite ultimately becomes weak and useless. The "virgin" (quotations referring to Athena) goddesses Artemis and Athena also don't seem to extend past superficial, unoriginal characteristics like being a vehement man-hater who kicked out two sapphics from the Hunt and a goddess who Rick stops at nothing to render her a horrible parent and person (using the Roman myth of Medusa, exaggerating her prideful nature, etc) respectively. And you cannot tell me they're not misogynistic portrayals because just a few minutes on pjo tiktok will show you just how many times Hera is referred to as a bitch (keep my wife's name out of your fucking mouth!!). Then there is TOA and COTG, which makes me want to cry just thinking about Zeus' portrayal there (yes we're going back there). The god who was consistently thought of as a gracious, protective saviour of the people in Ancient Greece (full list of epithets of Zeus, read at your leisure) is an abusive autocratic tyrant?

To go back onto the topic, how do Riordan's works affect the overall perception of Ancient Greece? Well, as I said before, it contributes to the white supremacist view of Ancient Greece as the epitome of civilisation and the glorification of the era, but it also turns Ancient Greece into a fandom to an extreme extent. Now, obviously, I'm not talking about people with a healthy obsession with Ancient Greek history and Mythology (myself included) who like to engage in content about it. I'm talking about people who claim Ancient Greece as an extension of Western, mostly American culture, and ultimately engage in a form of cultural appropriation that strips Greeks of their own history and narrative. This includes writing 'feminist' retellings of Greek myths, taking Riordan's (inaccurate) readings of the mythology as indisputable fact, and removing the myths from their historical and cultural context. People forget that much of these myths were stories written for entertainment and take them as a sort of Hellenic Bible (which delves into the Christianisation of Greek Mythology but that's a whole other post). In short, Westerners think they can do whatever the fuck they want with Greek mythology and Greek gods because they think it's theirs with which to play around, ultimately ignoring the country, history, and the culture from which they actually originate, and it's thanks to Rick Riordan that this attitude has blown up to an insane extent.

*sighs* Thank you for coming to my TedTalk and I seriously admire you if you made it this far.

[ohhcinnybuns]

Thinking about AU baker Chuuya and florist Dazai this evening…

Chuuya owns a pâtisserie in a quaint cultural part of downtown Yokohama called “pêches et crème.” He loves to bake French goods to show love for his half-French heritage: Macarons, Éclairs, Chouquettes… Chuuya knew just how to satisfy his patron’s sweet cravings.

All the locals who enter his shop are immediately drawn to Chuuya’s charm and delicious baked goods. They compliment his artistry and use of chocolate and fruits to enhance flavors.

Though, they tell him he should move his beautiful shop because of the ugly ass building across from his potentially scaring customers away. The building looked hollow and devoid of life with its chipped grey paint and haunting ‘for lease’ sign displayed on its window. Chuuya makes note of it and thanks his patrons for their feedback.

And then, one day, the ‘for lease’ sign on the building across from him was gone. Over the next few days, Chuuya notices workers coming in and out of the building to give it a facelift, wondering what type of shop it will become. The grey paint on the building turned into a muted yellow, and the window borders were accented by swirling vinyl patterns of lush vines in the shapes of hearts. He thought it looked nice… or at least, nicer than the run down crap it used to be. He makes a mental note to thank his neighbor when the shop opens for upgrading the eyesore.

Until one beautiful sunny morning, Chuuya walks to work and finds a handsome brunette holding a bouquet in his hands, looking up at the newly renovated building, deep in thought. He seemed to be mumbling to himself, a hand on his chin. Upon further inspection, Chuuya spotted a van behind him with its trunk popped open to reveal buckets of flowers - roses, daffodils, tulips, daisies - flowers of every kind in bloom and filling his senses.

The floral scent overwhelmed him so much that he almost didn't realize he had stopped walking, his nose twitching, and finally, he sneezed. Gosh darn pollen.

The brunette breaks from his mumbling spell and turns to Chuuya.

When their gazes lock, Chuuya can feel his cheeks warm. The brunette was a lot more handsome than he thought… and the smile he gave Chuuya only stirred butterflies in his stomach. Is this what people call love at first sight? ‘Shit! He’s coming this way.’

Chuuya clears his throat and immediately begins to look for his keys to unlock his shop pretending like he wasn’t just gawking at a handsome man across the street. Was he running away? It sure kind of felt that way by the way his hands kept fumbling his keys as if purposely stretching time for him on this particular morning. Chuuya curses under his breath with a defeated groan until he feels a hand land on his shoulder.

Chuuya jumps from the touch; a tint of red highlighting his cheeks. He turns to face the man who towers over him, still clutching a bouquet in his arms with a grin on his face as if reading every thought crossing Chuuya’s mind.

Who are they? What do they want? Am I being robbed? Should I call for help? If he goes out, would he regret it under the hands of this handsome thief? Too many questions and too many scenarios run through his head. Maybe he should be more direct.

“May I help you?” Chuuya finally asks, his hands learning to properly hold his keys without looking like a clown. He shifts his pose to cross his arms over his chest, eyeing for any sign of potential thievery. He’ll kick some ass if he has to.

“Yes, actually. Are you Chuuya Nakahara?” asks the brunette, lifting his hand from his shoulder to twirl a strand of Chuuya’s hair away from his face. Chuuya immediately grabs his wrist and pulls away.

“Who’s asking?” Chuuya glares at the guy. Man, he was pretty but daft to think he could just creep up on Chuuya and start petting him.

“Why, your new neighbor of course!” The guy pays no mind to Chuuya’s glare. Instead, he lifts the bouquet adorned with red camellias, peach peonies, and white with salmon tint daffodils.

“A rose by any other name would smell as sweet as the name, Chuuya Nakahara.”

Chuuya is stunned silent, blushing furiously as the handsome man hands him the bouquet while mumbling to himself again, criticizing his work, “I should have added an orange flower for your hair or a blue for your eyes. Now it all just feels wrong.”

“I didn't see any blue flowers in your van? Wait a minute, you haven’t even told me your name yet or why you know mine!”

The taller man laughs, his head tilted back as if his name was the funniest thing in the world. He leans into Chuuya’s personal space, his hands slipping into his coat pockets and with dazzling smile, he says, “Dazai. Dazai Osamu.”

Chuuya’s throat runs dry. He was starting to feel parched, as if he had just run a marathon with no water for miles. The only thing he's capable of is repeating Dazai’s name as if engraving it upon his lips.

Dazai nods his head and steps away, distancing himself from Chuuya. His gaze becomes soft, and with another twirl of Chuuya’s curls, he says, “I’ll come back with a better one next time, Chuuya. I’ll see you around.”

Chuuya finds himself mindlessly nodding like it is normal to do with someone they have just met on an average Tuesday. An unknown feeling bloomed around him, and he knew it wasn't because of the flowers.

After they part ways, Dazai flashes through his mind during breaks, lunch, and baking sessions. Honestly, the brunette made quite the impression on him, and he blushed every time he glanced at the bouquet. He put them in a porcelain vase next to his cash register so he could see their beauty in full bloom. His patrons teased him about the beautiful flowers that sat beautifully in his shop. They added a floral necessity to the scent of sugar, chocolate, and cinnamon in the air.

Maybe he’ll consider asking for the florist's number and sending a box of his best pastries as a ‘thank you’ for the bouquet. Perhaps he’ll ask for a date or two, and finally find out how the smug bastard knew his name. It’ll make a great conversation starter for the next time they meet.

[anamenooneowns]

AN: just so ppl know. my works are almost always going to be with black, chubby women in mind (and if not chubby they will still 100% be black). also, i have not seen EITHER of the spiderverse movies, i'm just a hoe who thirsts over any fictional man so i just kinda made an amalgamation of hobie's personality from the fanfics i've read and viola. i just free-flowed this to procrastinate from doing my anatomy and physiology homework. enjoy.

warnings: shibari, cam-girl, face hidden, voyeurism (hobie is watching behind the cam), masturbating, bar-spreader, fem!reader, afab (and i think thats all, lemme know if i missed sum)

MINORS AND BLANK BLOGS DNI

Just Enough

You shrieked, legs trembling but unmoving. The intricately knotted ropes where your knees met your thighs were kept open with a spreader bar at your ankles. All from the diligent hands of your lovely boyfriend - watching from behind the camera as you squirted - stroking his cock as the steady hum of your wand echoed in the room.

Your head rolled back between your shoulders, a sob of - "Fuck!" - pouring out of your lips as you clit throbbed and ached. The pearl was shiny and round as it stuck out from under it's hood.

The gentle chime of a noise akin to coins dropping on the sidewalk were like adlibs to the symphony of your moans, his slick strokes, and the vibrator. Your body - lovely in all of it's curves and planes - open for the eyes of ten-thousand horny, voyeuristic people around the world.

But Hobie? Oh, Hobie got all of this for free. He was an artist - obviously. A connoisseur of music... in his own way, of course. But there was no denying that the moment you handed your time over to him, your emotions, your love - your very heart. He knew you were something special.

Your voice was dulcet. A sound that talking-wise he would never be able to get enough of. Hell, talk to him about the Big Bang Theory and he'd be sleeping like a baby from your voice. So when you gave him the grace to make you feel good, and bestowed your sounds of pleasure in his ears? Hobie knew he had to make you a star.

In your own right, of course. With the mutual condition that it was anonymous. Now, Hobie was a man who liked to show off, but your face was his. He can imagine it right now, even with your head pushed into the pillows and your back bowed from the overstimulation of six - going on seven - orgasms. Hobart Brown was a very imaginative man. And he could see how your eyes smoothly looked inward before rolling back, your bottom teeth tucked between your lips before releasing when a moan bubbled out, and those pretty tears rolling down the sides of your face.

He growled when the rise of his orgasm nearly came and firmly grasped himself just under the head of his cock. It hurt more psychologically than it did physically to stave off his climax, saving it for the clenching hold between her chubby, brown folds.

'How much fuckin' longer?' Hobie thought to himself, looking at his phone. The timer of three minutes looked back at him, and his thick lips pulled into a smirk as he ended the livestream and slammed the laptop shut.

"B-baby?" you whimpered, picking up on the familiar sound.

Hobie hushed you gently, removing the bar and your blindfold to see bloodshot, baby browns staring back at him.

"S'alright love. Looked all gorgeous 'nd that tonight."

You smiled, laughing lightly. "You always say that."

"Cause you do," he insisted. Then his hand grasped your face, fingertips digging into your soft cheeks. "You'd look even prettier with my cum on your face though."

Your eyes flitted down to his bobbing length - black with a purple-pink head and soft, trimmed curls at the base - it made your mouth water.

"Got enough in you for another round? Saved everything just for that snatch," he murmured against your lips.

It was comical. The way your eyes glazed over and he felt the air around you bend and shift to the taking girl you were. "Yeah... just enough."

[chaoticillness]

A Memory of the Sunset

»»————-　🎞　————-««

Featuring: Kaedehara Kazuha x gn!reader (can be interpreted as romantic or platonic)

Warnings: mention of blood

Director’s Cut: i abused the enter key so hard on this one. a weird, slightly angsty kind-of character study that i started writing a year ago and restarted today while procrastinating. proofreader said “makes me cry 10/10” so i’m doing my job right. enjoy!

»»————-　🎞　————-««

You were eight when the man with the white hair appeared in your window for the first time.

He was a little kid then too, no younger than you judging by the looks of him. Groggily rousing yourself from the clutches of your comforter, you wobbled over to the windowsill and asked,

“How’d you get up? That’s high.”

He said, 

“That’s a secret.”

You were thirteen when he started appearing every night. Looking back, you wonder if he was lonely. Yeah, your parents would tell you stranger danger and all that, but he just felt safe. Someone to talk to when nobody else was there. Deep down, you both knew neither of you would judge the other.

As the leaves changed, you started riding a bike to the forest down your street. He had told you that he liked the leaves when their colors started to darken, as they fell in preparation for the wrath of Winter. When you asked him why, he murmured something passingly about the wind being stronger and left it at that. He never told you much about where he came from. You figured maybe he and his parents were estranged, what with all the sneaking out. 

On a brutally cold Saturday, you saw him peek his head out from behind a tree in the forest. He glanced left and right, and finally landed on you. 

“Why are you here? You’re not supposed to be here. And what’s with the puffer jacket?”

“Uh, I was taking a walk…”

“Well, it doesn’t matter that much,” he replied, “You’re here now.” A pause, and he adds, “Kazuha.” 

“Huh?” you question.

“My name-“ he backtracks. “I realized that I’d never told you.”

You’d never heard of any… Kazuha in your neighborhood, but you didn’t question it. Maybe you were naive, or maybe you had an inkling of what he really was. Rolling over memories in your mind, you wonder why he stayed that long with you back then, and never anyone else.

• • • • •

The fire escape in your first apartment was faulty. It was temperamental and it damn well never worked when it needed to, but it was his favorite, so you kept it. He liked to sit there with you and watch the purple sunsets over the bustle and brass of the street under. Talk about anything, everything. Except his family. He knew yours, every cousin and every grandparent, but when you tried asking him on that fire escape his face crumpled. Squeezing your hand, he murmured, “It’s a long story.”

You never asked him again.

Kazuha never seemed to have any milestones, or commitments, or anything at all. He was there, and then he was gone. But he was always there for yours, whether it was your high school graduation or your cousin’s wedding. The boy had carved a place out for himself in the muscle fibers of your heart, slithering through your bloodstream, an essential element of your functioning. 

And then he was gone.

• • • • •

Some people are just born to wander, leaving their fingerprints on everything they touch, a sign they were there. That they loved and they lost and they lived.

And some people are born to be left behind by the wanderers, to be the canvas for those fingerprints, a sign that they were there too. 

The sunset is beautiful tonight.

»»————-　🎞　————-««

A/N: fun fact! when i first started writing this, it was intended to be a Peter Pan-esque AU inspired by Devil by the Window by TXT, but i left it sitting in my notes app until now and it turned into this weird word vomit about loss. what can i say? inspiration strikes when it wants. <- (me pretending i write more than once every six months)

[kunikidas-lost-glasses]

- Theory on Dazai's family -

- Why I think that Dazai is closely related to the former boss of the Port Mafia - A BSD analysis based on facts from the main manga series, the light novel "Bungo Stray Dogs: Dazai, Chuuya Age Fifteen" and the manga "Bungo Stray Dogs: Dazai, Chuuya Age Fifteen" -

Contains heavy spoilers for Dazai's backstory, the Dazai, Chuuya Age Fifteen manga and the Age Fifteen light novel

TWs: Dazai typical mentions of sewerslide, mentioned abuse, picture which shows a scene in a hospital explicitly

English isn't my first language so I apologize for any grammar mistakes.

Not completely proof read by now since I realized that I have a lot of homework while proof reading and panicked. Will be proof read in the next 24h.

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

Okay so I had this theory since I read the age 15 novel last year but I've never got around writing it down since some pieces were still missing.

In the following I will first talk about Dazai's relationship with Mori and showing parts of the age 15 novel to proof why they very popular theory that Mori is Dazai's father/a relative cannot be true. Afterwards I will talk about my theory that Dazai was already in Mafia, way before he met Mori before I will talk about my theory about why I think that Dazai is closely related to the former boss of the port mafia is either Dazai's father or a close relative like a grandfather or uncle and gonna show supporting proof from the BSD light novel "Dazai and Chuuya age 15", the BSD age 15 manga and the main BSD manga series.

1. Why Mori cannot be Dazai's father or a relative

Mori being Dazai's father or being directly related to him is a very popular opinion in the BSD fandom and which is very popular especially under anime onlys or new fans. To be honest, I had this theory too when I first started watching BSD but by now I am completely sure that this cannot be true.

Direct proof for this can be found in the BSD light novel "Dazai and Chuuya age 15" which reveals a lot about Dazai's and Chuuya's past in the Port Mafia as well as about some characters in general.

In this light novel it gets clear that Mori and Dazai are still pretty much strangers which are connected through the murder of the former boss of the Port Mafia. This also gets specifically stated in said novel on page 8 and page 7.

As stated here, they've been brought together by common destiny.

On page 7 however, is a even better proof that they aren't related at all and it also gives out another very interesting information about Dazai's family.

As stated here, on page seven, Dazai is "neither Mori's secret illegitimate child nor an orphan he adopted [...] ". I think that with this information, we can be pretty sure that Dazai isn't related to Mori at all. It also gets stated again that they are bound together by "common destiny" instead of any kind of relation.

Very interesting is, that it gets mentioned that Dazai isn't an orphan which Mori adopted since this information can be read in two ways. One option is, that he simply isn't adopted by Mori while the second option is, that he isn't an orphan at all. (English isn't my first language so I don't know if it can be read in only one way so feel free to correct me.)

The last proof for that Mori and Dazai aren't related to each other, can be found on page 9.

The whole page makes clear, that Mori doesn't really know Dazai at all/ that he only knows him for only one year and that he only knows him on a "Coworker level". He isn't familiar with Dazai's way of thinking, speaking and acting. He simply cannot figure Dazai out and he is kind of scared of him. Dazai isn't someone he knows since a long time. If anything, he is still trying to get to know Dazai and his ways of thinking. If Mori knew Dazai since a very long time, I'm sure that he would know at least a bit about how Dazai acts and reacts to things so that he wouldn't get as uneasy as on this text page, when Dazai is showing his serious, cold and calculating side again.

This is only a speculation though since Dazai and his ways of acting and thinking are in fact nearly completely impossible to figure out for nearly everyone.

Besides this, there is a clear distance between them without any familiarity. This distance can be often found between strangers who know each other solely through working together for whatever reason, but who never hang out together in the way friends or relatives do, which creates this distance between them.

Now that I've shown some proof which supports the theory, that Dazai isn't related to Mori in any way, I'm firstly going to show proof for why I think that Dazai was already in the Mafia, way before he met Mori before I will talk about why I think that Dazai is specifically related to the former boss of the Port Mafia.

2. Why Dazai had to be in the Mafia, way before he met Mori

Now, about why Dazai had to be in the Mafia way before he met Mori.

As seen in one of those panels of the first phase of the age 15 manga, Dazai is dressed on somewhat formal attire, wearing a white button up shirt and dress pants. Those clothes suit him perfectly and they look rather formal and expensive so it's unlikely that they were given to him after he got brought to the hospital. Those are his own clothes.

Now, if he would be an orphan who lived on the streets, which is another popular theroy in the fandom, he wouldn't be wearing such clothes.

Also such black and white, formal clothes/suits are commonly worn in the port mafia, often by people of a higher rank or by guards which suggests that there is some kind of a dress code among the Port Mafia. The clothes which Dazai is wearing, suit perfectly into the dress code of the port mafia.

Another point as to why he had to be in the Mafia already is the fact that he was brought to Mori, an shady underground doctor and the personal physician of the former boss of the port mafia after attempting suicide. If he would have been a normal child, no matter if orphan or not, he would have been brought to a normal official hospital in Yokohama and not to Mori.

Besides this, Mori is well aware who Dazai is, calling him by his name which suggests that Dazai isn't only already in the port mafia but also that he is known there and not just another nameless assistant.

Of course, Mori could have been informed about who this kid is by the person who brought him to him but if Dazai would really have been a random kid who wasn't involved in the Mafia, they wouldn't have any information about his name.

All of these points like the expensive and formal clothing, the fact that he seems to be involved with the Mafia already, the fact that he was brought to the underground doctor Mori (who is also the personal physician of the former boss of the port mafia) and the fact that Mori knows who Dazai is, lead me to the next point which is why I believe that Dazai is closely related to the former boss of the port mafia.

3. Why I think that Dazai is closely related to the former boss of the Port Mafia

Firstly, all the previously mentioned facts like the expensive clothes and all, are things which support my theroy in some ways but of course they aren't enough proof since alone from those facts alone, we could also think that Dazai is simply related to a executive or someone in the Mafia who has a higher rank but there are things which lead me to think that Dazai is related to the former boss of the port mafia.

Let me show you.

First of all, Higuchi telling Dazai that Dazai's blood is not only "Mafia black" but also that it's more Mafia black than anyone else's in the country.

While this could also be seen as her referring to him being the feared demon prodigy, it also suggests that he is deeply connected with the port mafia. Also, talking about a connection to something through someone's blood gets often used to hint that someone is connected with something through family.

With saying that his blood is more black than anyone else's, she also says that he is deeper connected with the Mafia than Mori, Hirotsu, Chuuya or any of the other loyal members of the Mafia and besides this, she also tells him through this, that he would be more cruel than any of them.

Now the only other person about who they talk like this and who gets referred to be more cruel and deeply involved with the port mafia, who is basically anchored in the history of the port mafia, is the former boss of the port mafia himself.

Higuchi saying that his blood is mafia black, more than anyone's in the whole county, could easily be a hint that Dazai is in fact, related in some way to the only other person who's blood is mafia black, the former boss.

While this point is more based on speculation, the next point is based a lot more on the things which are actually specifically shown in the manga.

During the flashback which shows how the former boss of the port mafia died, we can see that Dazai isn't standing next to Mori but far away from the bed next to the big window.

If Mori wanted to make Dazai pretend that he would be his new assistant, Dazai would stand next to the bed or would stand at least close to Mori to "watch and learn", to assist him or to hand him any tools or medicine he might need but this isn't the case. He is standing far away from Mori and the bed, silently watching and not assisting at all. He isn't holding any tools and he also obviously isn't looking for anything which he needs to bring Mori. Here he has the role of a bystander and is the witness.

But why would Mori bring a random child with him, only to watch him and which would later be his witness. It would make no sense and it would make him seem even more suspicious. Even if he would have waited with the murder, bringing Dazai with him a couple of times before killing the boss, it would make him look suspicious. After all, suddenly bringing a child with him which then suddenly happens to be the only witness, really is suspicious and I doubt that Mori would have made such a risky and unwell calculated plan.

If that would be the case he also could have picked any child or like any person in the Mafia. After all, there are a lot of people who wanted to see the former boss of the port mafia dead because of his brutal and cruel way of leading the Mafia and because of all the terrible crimes but again.

However, despite the large amount of people who would (most likely) happily assist Mori with getting rid of the former boss, he directly approached Dazai and he does so confidently as shown here:

He seems like he knew exactly that Dazai wouldn't deny his request and he also seems as if he had picked Dazai to be his perfect assistant for this case but I genuinely don't think, that it's only because Dazai is a suicide patient.

In both, the manga and the light novel, Dazai tells Mori that of course the latter would see him as the perfect assistant because he would need to get rid of everyone who was aware of what really happened during that night and since nobody would suspect a thing if Dazai would suddenly commit suicide under unknown circumstances but while this is a good point, more on the other hand states in the light novel that he can't let him die because then the supporters of the previous boss would turn on Mori and claim that he would have killed the predecessor but I will come back to that in a second.

As previously mentioned, I don't think that Dazai being suicidial was the point which made Mori choose him as his assistant. After all, it wouldn't make anything less suspicious due to the reasons I mentioned previously.

So why did he pick Dazai if suddenly bringing a person with him, shortly before murdering the predecessor would only raise suspicions?

Well it would only raise suspicions if the person wasn't already in the room before he came to visit the boss and if they weren't in this room already since quite some time.

This is one of my main points to support the theroy and it also suits to the fact that Mori wouldn't risk seeming any more suspicious throughout bringing a random person with him and it also suits to the fact that Dazai is standing far away from the bed, obviously not pretending to be a new assistant of Mori.

Dazai stands far away from the bed, like someone who was in the room already, way before the doctor came in and he steps away from the bed to give room for the doctor so that he can do his work properly. It is a common thing to do for relatives, friends or coworkers who had been staying at the bedside of the bedridden person.

Now why would Dazai be in this room, staying with the pervious boss of the port mafia as the only person.

He is too young to be a guard and he can't be a person who was carrying out missions for the previous boss since Mori is in fact the person who gives Dazai his first mission ever which is to investigate about the rumors of the previous boss of the port mafia coming back as a ghost. It can be seen on this page of the manga where Mori specifically states that this is Dazai's first job as a official member of the Mafia.

So if Dazai can't be a guard, isn't pretending to be Mori's assistant, if it's too suspicious if Mori would bring a random person with him shortly before carrying out his plan and if Dazai can't be someone who carries out missions, and especially if he isn't an official working member of the Mafia until that very moment in which Mori gives him his first mission and welcomes him as an official member of the Mafia, which, by the way, takes place around one whole year after Mori killed the predecessor, why should Dazai be staying in that room since quite some time, by the bedside of the former boss of the port mafia?

The only logical reason for this would be that he is in fact related to the boss of the port mafia in some way and due to this, stays by the side of his relative to help him in his weak, dying and bedridden state. There wouldn't be any other reason for him to keep Dazai around and if there would be, all the other points like Dazai being dressed formal and expensively and Mori knowing who Dazai is wouldn't suit into the whole situation anyways.

If Dazai only would serve as some kind of a servant, he would be someone unknown in the Mafia and they probably wouldn't have brought him to Mori after his attempt.

My last proof which supports my theroy is Dazai's reaction to having to face the former boss of the port mafia again during the fight against Arthur Rimbaud/Randou but also the bosses reaction to facing Dazai again.

On page 95 in the light novel, Dazai and Chuuya face the former boss for the first time in the whole novel and both, the reaction of Dazai and if the both is very interesting and supports my theroy a lot.

Chuuya who was never directly involved with the port mafia and the former boss and only knows about his crimes /was indirectly another victim of one of his crimes, hasn't a very specific reaction towards facing the boss and the boss also only sees him as someone he has attack without any personal connection between them.

Dazai however reacts not only chaught off guard like Chuuya upon seeing the dead body of the former boss of the port mafia standing in front of them, talking and moving but during the whole fight he doesn't say as much as he usually would and is more confused, tensed up and seemingly very uncomfortable and nervous. He does try to cover it up with sarcastic remarks and through smiling but it is very noticeable in the way he acts and talks.

Upon seeing the port mafia boss, Dazai's smile becomes tense and he seems uneasy and he continues to act like this even after knowing that it's only Arthur's ability. It can't be only because he is worried about the boss telling others what really happened since they are currently in Arthur's hyperspace and the boss isn't going anywhere. The whole situation of having to see and having to talk to this person again seems to make him feel uneasy and uncomfortable which makes him turn more quiet, confused and more serious during the whole battle. It actually takes some time until he acts more relaxed and calculating like he usually does during a fight and until he stops bombarding Arthur with questions.

The former boss of the port mafia on the other hand, (and this is an incredibly interesting and overlooked part), calls Dazai "My boy" upon seeing him again, asks him Mori/ "The good doctor" has been treating him well and refrers to Dazai's face as a familiar face before he calls him my boy upon fully recognizing him. He also tells Dazai that it feel like ages since he last say him which implies that they saw each other and knew each other regularly. Him calling him my boy definitely supports that Dazai is related to him and I think it's self explanatory why. If Dazai was only some coworker, he wouldn't be referring to him as my boy.

The way Dazai talks to him also seems like he isn't talking to someone he only vaguely knows.

The distance which is present when he is communicating with Mori isn't present here and the whole way he talks to him and how he is building the sentences but also how the former boss of the port mafia is referring to him as well as how he talks to Dazai, is making clear that they know each other past the level of only coworkers as well as that they aren't just boss and normal subordinate.

The fact that Dazai refers to him as boss, the fact that Dazai assists Mori's with his plan, the way they talk to each other or better the way in which Dazai talks to the predecessor and that the fact the former boss of the port mafia isn't having any issues with killing/attempting to kill Dazai and even shows some kind of enthusiasm towards it, talking about it in a way which is implying that he already hated Dazai way before Dazai assisted Mori ("[...] I never imagined a day would come where I could behead this boy with my own two hands", the previous Mafia boss crowed hoarsely." (p.98;ll.26-28;" Bungo Stray Dogs: Dazai, Chuuya, Age Fifteen") shows the nature of the relationship between those two.

Most likely, the predecessor wasn't treating Dazai good, most likely abusing him which lead Dazai to assisting Mori and which would explain the way they talk to each other as well as Dazai's negative and almost scared reaction upon seeing the previous boss again.

Given the predecessors cruel, cold and brutal personality as well as his obsession with surpressing and killing people/people who acted against the Mafia, it isn't unlikely that he was also abusive towards Dazai.

Another quote which implies that they know each other since quite some time, can be found on page 98 in the light novel where the boss is "mourning" about the fact that his body isn't capable anymore of talking about the past before he kills Dazai. ("" If only we could chat about old times first, [...] "" (P. 98; ll.28-29)

The fact that Arthur also states that he preserved the former bosses personality and memories (P. 99; l.1) proofs that the memories of the boss as well as the way he acts isn't altered at all.

With all of these facts which suggest that Dazai is related to the former boss of the Port Mafia, it also makes sense why Mori needs Dazai to stay alive. Not only it would seem suspicious if Dazai suddenly dies, even if he would die of suicide but also because then, if Dazai would truly be related to the former boss of the Port Mafia, it would seem like Mori got rid of the person who rightfully is the next boss of the Port Mafia in order to be completely sure that he can be the next boss until he dies.

If we see it like this, it would also make even more sense as to why Mori was so scared that Dazai would kill him one day, just like how he killed the former boss in order to become the next leader of the Port Mafia because then he wouldn't just be afraid because of the "Evil expects evil from others" rule, but also because he and Dazai would both be painfully aware of the fact that Dazai is rightfully the next Boss of the Port Mafia and not Mori.

To summarize, Dazai cannot be related to Mori at all. Not only is this specifically stated in the light novel "Bungo Stray Dogs: Dazai, Chuuya, Age Fifteen" but the fact that Mori is still trying to figure out Dazai, that he isn't familiar with Dazai's way of acting and thinking and the fact that there is a constant, somewhat formal distance between them suggests that they genuinely didn't know each other before Mori asked Dazai to be his assistant/witness in his plan to murder the former boss of the port mafia.

Now despite not being related to Mori in any way, Dazai still seems to be involved with the Port Mafia already, way before he met Mori. Proof for that can mainly be found in the BSD Dazai, Chuuya, Age Fifteen manga.

There, Dazai is shown to wear formal and expensive looking clothes when he wakes up after another suicide attempt and Mori greets Dazai with his name, seemingly being well aware of who Dazai is. If Dazai would have been a random kid p.ex. from the streets, he wouldn't be wearing such clothes and Mori wouldn't know his name but he also wouldn't have been brought to the underground doctor Mori who also happens to be the personal physician of the former boss of the port mafia but to a normal and official hospital in Yokohama.

Alone due to the fact that he got brought to Mori, he had to be involved with the port mafia already otherwise he wouldn't had end up in that hospital. Now, him being well dressed, Mori knowing his name and him being brought to Mori instead of to an official hospital could also imply that he is only the son of an executive or another person in the Mafia who is of high rank but the fact that Higuchi tells Dazai years later that his blood is mafia black, more than anyone else's in the country as well as the fact that Mori chooses him to assist him in his plan of murdering the former boss of the port mafia as well as Dazai's position in the bosses room while Mori carries out his plan and his role in this plan imply that he isn't just related to a random person but rather the former boss of the port mafia himself.

Mori could have chosen anyone to be his witness, especially in regards of how many people want to see the former boss dead but he directly approaches Dazai and does so confidently as shown in the age fifteen manga. He seems to be sure that Dazai would assist him but he also seems to be sure that this won't raise any more suspicious.

If he would have started to bring a random person with him to his regular visits to the former boss, shortly before he murders him and the fact that this random person is suddenly his only witness would raise only more suspicious about him killing the boss and given Mori's character, I doubt that he would plan something so risky and uncalculated where it's sure that it would cause him more trouble than anything.

So why did he choose a seemingly random kid as his witness if suddenly bringing a person with him would only raise suspicions in the end? Because there won't be any more suspicious than there are already if the person is located in the former bosses room anyways and regularly.

The theroy that Dazai stays at the room of the former boss gets supported by the fact that Mori is specifically choosing him, seemingly being sure that this won't raise suspicions and the fact that Dazai isn't staying close to the bed or at least next to Mori while he is "treating" the former boss, not pretending to be Mori's assistant. Dazai is standing far away from Mori and the bed as a silent witness next to the window. Stepping away from the bed so that the doctor can treat the person is a common thing to do for relatives, friends or coworkers who had been staying at the bedside of the bedridden person. If Dazai would have pretended to be Mori's assistant he would be staying close to Mori, only stepping away from the bed to get something which Mori needs but this isn't the case. Also the suspicions didn't raise because of Dazai and everything went as Mori planned which is supporting the theory that Dazai was already regularly in the room.

Now why would the port mafia boss keep a child around in his room/at his bedside. Dazai is too young to be a guard, he isn't a official member of the Mafia who carries out missions since it is shown in the manga that Mori is in fact the person who gives Dazai his first mission ever and who is welcoming him as an member of the Mafia after giving him the mission, implying that Dazai wasn't an official member of the Mafia until that very moment which took place around one year after Mori successfully carried his plan out and if Dazai would have only acted as some kind of servant, he wouldn't have been dressed this well, Mori most likely wouldn't have known who Dazai is and he most likely wouldn't have been brought to Mori after his attempt. We can see how the most servants/slaves are treated in the chapter with Ace in the main manga and since the previous boss was even more cruel and brutal than Ace, he wouldn't have treated his servants any better. Given those circumstances, the only logical reason for him keeping Dazai around in his room, is that Dazai is in fact related to him in some way and is now staying at his bedside in order to help him in his weak, dying and bedridden state.

That they know each other past the levels of only boss and subordinate/ coworkers gets shown in the fight against Arthur Rimbaud/Randou where the former boss calls Dazai "My boy" and mourns about the fact that they cannot talk about the old times before he kills Dazai. They also talk to each other in a way which suggests that they know each other since a long time in a relative kind of way.

While Chuuya reacts chaught off guard towards seeing the previous boss as well but while he reacts in a way which makes clear that they never knew each other personally, Dazai tenses up and is nervous and feels uneasy through the whole fight upon having to face the boss again. It takes him a while until he acts more collected, serious and calculating like he usually does in a fight again but the uneasyness never fades fully, no matter how much he tries to cover it up.

The way they talk to each other also implies a deep rooted hate from both sides. The former boss also shows no issues with killing Dazai, implies that he already hated Dazai way before he assisted Mori and even shows some kind of enthusiasm towards killing the child.

In general, given the former bosses cruel, cold and brutal personality and given the way they interact with each other/react towards having to face each other again, it is likely that the former boss was abusive towards Dazai/that the nature of thier relationship was abusive.

During the whole fight, both talk with each other in way which suggests that they know each other personally since quite some time and the formal distance which is always present when Dazai and Mori communicate with each other isnt present between them during thier conversations, making it seem even more like they are related in some way.

All these facts, from the former boss referring to Dazai as "My boy" to Dazai's position in the room and his role in Mori's plan, lead me to think that Dazai is in fact closely related to the former boss of the port mafia. I consciously decided not to refer to the former boss as Dazai's father since I wouldn't go as far as to pinpoint the exact relation but I am almost completely sure he is closely related to him and I think it's likely that he is at least his grandfather or his uncle.

If you read all of this, I love you <3