#yeah that’s an apt analogy

[cissa-calls]

Countdown to Agatha: Darkhold Diaries: Day 733

Agatha to Y/N: “Look at me”

Agatha: “Now look at her” *points to Wanda*

Agatha: “It’s a difficult decision, but who do you trust mor-“

Y/N: “-The first one. Wanda. I choose her”

Agatha: “No, you’re supposed to choose me. We’ll do a redo.”

Y/N: “But-“

Agatha: “You’re choosing me? Great!”

[evepede]

tmc headcannon thatcher davis with spectrophobia (the fear of mirrors)

ok but LISTEN 2 ME YAP ABOUT THIS RQ…. i feel like he’s had this fear for a while (maybe ever since he was younger) and until the alternate situation while some of them having the ability to travel through mirrors had made his fear TERRIBLY worse. it makes way more sense whenever thatcher’s alternate had said he was “afraid of his own reflection” I MEAN YEAH!!!!! QUITE LITERALLY!!!!! he’d overall get badly anxious over seeing anything reflective and tries not to look also possibly smashed his own bathroom mirror and ppl sometimes try asking him though he always says it was an accident and he’ll replace it soon (he won’t)

[zoophagist]

How do you need to be touched?

cautiously.

your teeth are bared, as they have been, your jaw aching for so long as growls slip free. you always have to defend yourself. you lash out in fear. you need someone who does not shrink back… a hand falling slowly to your shoulder, however briefly, in a reminder that you do not have to lunge. there is no danger here, now.

Tagged by; @elisethetraveller (thanks!) Tagging; @polarean (for jaja), @reastless, @scrivellc, @st-riley-the-brave

[hickeygender]

so we all know the explicit sakai deer imagery, right? despite stags being associated with kazumasa, deer are still an appropriate symbol for jin as well (fast, silent, peaceful rather than predatory by nature but still capable of killing). since jin = deer, what would ryuzo best be represented by? maybe there's some textual hint, or hidden dialogue that we could go off of? maybe it's not explicit, but-

yeah, no. the game literally awards you this trophy right after you recruit him. the only way i think they could get more explicit with the shady wolf analogy is by calling the trophy "the big bad wolf", or "wolf in sheep's clothing".

ryuzo - passionate, unpredictable, violent ryuzo - being compared to a wolf is fitting, even more so when you consider the trophy refers to multiple wolves, meaning the straw hats. he was taken in by them, an unruly, masterless group, and he became their leader. despite betraying jin, he doesn't lack loyalty entirely; he only remains loyal to those he views as family after they took him in following the tournament.

his primary motivations in the narrative are staying fed, and providing for his family. he doesn't care about playing nice, or fighting clean, or lessening collateral damage. if his belly is full and his family is fed, none of that matters, and i can't think of a more apt description of that mentality than wolfish.

[slocumjoe]

It's not intentional even a little but I super thought of synths as being a trans-allegory. I wouldn't be able to explain why.

anon thank u for the opportunity to talk about

synths as trans allegory! (warning for transphobia discussion, unfortunately)

Unrelated, trans people have the best flag, no contest.

The first thing I thought of, here, was;

The Self-Admitted Synth encounter.

Y'all know this, but a rundown anyway; Jules, the guy in the blue with the man bun, is a synth. He escaped from the Institute and began traveling with Angie and Fred. Eventually, he felt comfortable enough with them to admit he was a synth, only to be marked for death.

Jules has a line that made this encounter stand out, when thinking of trans allegory;

"Because I thought you were my friends!"

Jules admitted he was a synth to Angie and Fred, because he assumed that he could trust them with this vulnerable secret. He couldn't. He didn't know until he was punished for it.

Let's look at synths for a minute. As a whole.

The concept of the Synth is, so I mentioned before, an 'enemy in disguise.' Their role is to infiltrate towns and the populace at large for the Institute, doing whatever needs doing. They often take the place of an already-existing person. McDonough, for example, was killed and replaced with an Institute synth after he was elected mayor. He was replaced because having an agent run the largest settlement in the Commonwealth was beneficial for the Institute.

The point of the Synth is that anyone could be one, and if they aren't a synth, they could be replaced at any time. For my analog horror girlies (kiss kiss mhwa mhwa), Synths are like Alternates, if the Alternates had no distortion to their features to give them away. A perfect visual copy. You don't know someone is a synth unless you kill them and root around the brains for the little chip in their head. This chip isn't common knowledge, I believe, so most people wouldn't even have that to confirm.

With the trans allegory reading, "I am scared that my neighbors are institute synths" becomes "I am scared my neighbors are trans." This works! This works like hell! For one, there's the aspect of not knowing until you root around the, for lack of better word, suspect's biology. You won't know someone is trans unless you assault and strip them. You won't know someone is a synth unless you assault and rummage through their brains for the chip. Another aspect that relates to transness is, most synths are literally not themselves. They have to play a role that is not them. A role they are forced into at birth. Here, you can also apply Institute rhetoric as transphobia. The Institute claims that synths are not people. "You are not your own person, you are, scientifically, what you are made to be" can easily be applied to a trans person having their identity shut down and feelings disregarded. You can even bring the wiping by Amari into it, as a kind of...transitioning? Removing the 'role' the synth is meant to play, so they can be themselves. That one is kind of a stretch, but the concept of undergoing a procedure for your own personl freedom and right to self-expression is apt. If you want, you could also bring in the controversy of the procedure, and whether or not you should want it/should always undergo it if possible. (AN; trans people don't need procedures to be trans, just throwing that out there)

So, those are just some reasons that you might look at synths and go hell yeah, trans androids! Transdroids? That feels like a slur from 4chan. Anyway, I wanna go into Danse and Curie, specifically, here, because THOSE BITCHES READ AS TRANS, HOLY SHIT.

Starting with Curie, she is, like, extremely trans woman to me. I don't know how trans girlies (kiss kiss mhwa mhwa) actually feel about her, but Curie reminds me strongly of trans woman experiences I've read. The positive experiences of transitioning or when they first start dressing and expressing themselves as women. I completely forgot the word for it. Anyway. Curie feels limited in her Ms. Nanny body, and asks for help to, let's just say it, transition into a synth body. Once this is done, Curie gets to see the world in a whole new light, and finds herself very happy and curious in a world she thought she knew, but now sees as something to explore and enjoy further now that she isn't limited. She often has some negative experiences that frustrate her, but ultimately, Curie's knowledge of the world through science becomes genuine delight and enthusiasm. Where once she looked at it somewhat clinically, she gets to experience things in such a way that makes it all new, and exciting, and fun.

Danse does not get this joyous, whimisical experience. Danse is an escaped synth who forgets he's a synth. Amnesia, or was he wiped? Don't know. Either way, he joins the Brotherhood and hates synths because Maxson said to. He goes through his life respected, but somewhat outcasted. People admire him, but he doesn't have any friends, no one he's close to. Despite speaking highly of his brothers and sisters, it's easy to tell that their bond is purely professional. They're coworkers, not family, and Danse doesn't actually have anyone in his corner, not to that level of intimacy (platonic or otherwise). He had Cutler, and Haylen looks out for him out of respect and a small personal bond, but Danse very much is an outsider. He sticks out wherever he is. Eventually, a DNA profile match outs him for what he is, but didn't know he was. He flees, and all of the people he would have died for very much want him to die for their cause. Turns out, he stuck out for a reason, there was always something in him that made him Other.

Curie's story is one of finding joy and pleasure in this new, exciting existence. Danse is one of realizing what you are, after being raised to loathe it, and finding yourself in grave, immediate danger. Both are trans experiences. X6, I don't think reads as trans very much, not like these two do. There is something to be said for Nick, though.

With Nick, his...deal...is so literal it's actually kind of hard to read it as trans? Like, Nick is trans, he just is, argue with the wall. But...

Nick's deal is that, before the bombs, a human Nick Valentine got his brain scanned and copied. Later, the Institute took that scan and put it in a Gen 2.5 synth, then chucked that synth in the trash. Later, that synth, having the memories, personality, and self-perceived identity of Nick Valentine, just called himself Nick Valentine, because who else could he be?

Nick suffers from a kind of literal imposter syndrome, as well as body dysphoria, having been flesh and blood one moment, than metal and...plastic (?) the next. There's also a body horror aspect to him, what with his body wearing down over time, and his organs being easily accessible with the skin/plating appearing detachable. Then you also have to account for his head/brain being a computer. How does he visually see the world? Is it 1s and 0s, code being translated into a camera/visual feed?

Nick is so specific that it's harder to replace 'synth' with 'trans' in his story. Danse's paragraph, i could literally find+replace and the story effortlessly becomes about transphobia. Nick would be weird, because trans people don't have detachable skin plating or cameras for eyes. Not that I know of, anyway.

The Railroad, in particular, is an interesting case. Long-time rubberneckers of this blog will know I hate that faction. But with a trans allegory, they...kind of work better? The name still sucks. But rather than being a 1-1 of the Underground railroad freeing slaves, they become a network of people getting trans folks to safety, and getting them whatever medical procedures they need/want. This works better because...trans people are actually...undetectable, I guess? In game, synths are supposed to be black people. That's why the Railroad is called the Railroad. It's a copy of the actual Railroad. But black people...you know they're black. I've mentioned how dumb this is with Piper. Piper is constantly accusing the mayor of being of African descent, with the coding/allegory of "synths are black slaves." The problem here is that, again, the point of synths is that you can't tell they're synths.

Obligatory "Glory is literally just Harriet Tubman" because I will die screaming this until Todd answers for his crimes.

The trans allegory gets kinda weird with Acadia...like...Dima making uhmmm fuck what her name. Kim? Kay? Kimiko...Kiriko...KASUMI, making KASUMI think she's a synth. That gets a bit into red-hat rhetoric, if you get my meaning.

But let's go back to Piper. Just for a moment.

We always come back to Piper, don't we.

With the trans allegory, PIPER IS EVEN WORSE! "OUR MAYOR IS TRANSGENDER" LOCAL WOMAN SCREAMS, "WE MUST DESTROY HIM, FOR HE IS AN AGENT OF THE EVIL GOVERNMENT!"

So, conlusion, a trans allegory is better than the slave allegory, especially because it makes Piper look even fucking dumber with even worse writing!

Also, Nick is trans, trans people don't need to transition, and I still hate the railroad. Happy pride! I ate cotton candy oreos to get in the spirit of this mini-essay because they're pink and blue!!! I LOVE RAINBOW CAPITALISM😀

[siriuslysatorusimping]

call me boring if you want

But sometimes I feel like fic writers need to focus on one or two forms of conflict instead of piling them on like a kid filling their plate at a church potluck (i made myself giggle with this analogy)

Because it gets really emotionally exhausting as a reader to have so many tropes overlapping for the sake of added tension or conflict. It also doesn't help when the decisions characters make are clearly just to keep the conflict going instead of driving an actual plot.

Yesterday, I read a fic that was very long(200k words, almost 10k words per chapter), but the conflict never fucking stopped. The fic ended with no resolution, and I was left feeling empty and like my time was wasted because the way it ended was clearly just an attempt to get people to read their sequel. There was no character development, no resolution of any kind, only conflict and angst.

Characters kept making the exact same mistakes with no acknowledgment of why their lives were going to shit. On top of that, near the end, they started making choices that went against everything they were just so the conflict could continue into the sequel. I get that some fics want to emphasize the lack of growth, but when you have that much content with no development or growth with no good reason beyond to drive conflict? It feels very empty and repetitive.

And cliffhangers for the sake of trying to force people to read the next part feel bleh to me. The purpose of a cliffhanger as a plot device is to build suspense, but they're often used to try to keep people hooked in the absence of meaningful content. (you see this in modern tv a lot.)

The best kind of story is the one that ends with a satisfying conclusion while still leaving the audience wanting more.

Again, JK Rowling did such an excellent job with the Deathly Hallows epilogue. Because it was perfect. We still wanted more from that universe, but she ended it on such a peaceful and comforting note: "All was well."

No writer is perfect. Not everything someone writes will be flawless (I'm looking at you, Cursed Child. What an apt name, too. Because that shit was cursed.).

But yeah. Thanks for coming to my Ted Talk 🙃🙃🙃

Some people have asked for writing advice in the past, so would you guys be interested if I occasionally posted lil advice pieces or breakdowns of examples? I think it could be something fun for me to take a break from the constant writing 🤔

[catboybiologist]

no i dont think youre a twink… Idk what you are but not twink…

Yeah entirely fair, I think the convergently evolved analogy is pretty apt LOL

[local-trees]

yeah i would argue that “men are gross” jokes actually are an issue, that IPV is a separate issue, and that some people who say those kinds of things may also be experiencing IPV. but denigrating men is very much a phenomenon that exists outside of abusive relationships.

in my experience, too, people experiencing IPV are more likely to say good things about their partner because they’re rightly scared about trash talk getting back to them & facing consequences, but i recognize this is not true across the board.

the analogy to boomer “i hate my bitch wife” jokes is an apt one. its not progressive just because its women saying it about men. hating men isn’t progressive.

i live in the US so i won’t speak for other countries’ norms, but its bad that people here grow up being taught that getting into and maintaining heterosexual relationships should be their top priority. a lot of people are in relationships that should have ended already, or never started in the first place.

it’s also a problem that people are in bad relationships in a society with substantial income inequality and an inadequate social safety net, so ending relationships is an economic decision as much as an emotional one.

so its understandable that people struggle to end bad relationships (i’m speaking only about bad relationships, where it’s clearly a mismatch of personalities, principles or goals; not relationships that are actively abusive); but if you’re at the point of insulting your partner when you talk about them to other people, i do think you have a responsibility to end a relationship you’re not happy in. a responsibility to yourself as much as them.

Guys I’m going to make a hot take

[lynxmuse]

Mindfulness Moment

“People wanna matter on all rungs of the ladder.”

– Craig Benzine

This understated and played for a bit of humour comment/observation resonates quite hard with me right now.  Natch, it’s not entirely new, and it dovetails into previous posts I’ve made about our big five wants and the unity in our desires, including our wants to make a difference, to be related, to be part of a greater whole.  And we want to be allowed to matter, to be recognized for mattering, to have our contributions noted.

And while in a cosmic sense there is no bigger or smaller when it comes to contribution, yeah, we do want to be recognized for our contributions.  Appreciated, even.  We want our contributions to matter.  And we want to enjoy the results of our contributions.  We don’t want to be ripped off or exploited or taken advantage of.

To create “mattering” can be as simple as to acknowledge someone.  Truly acknowledge them.  Let them know you know the part they played in what’s so, let them know their contributions are seen and valued, let them know that they are not faceless, or a cog.  Let them know they have value.

Cement it with providing value and appreciation.  What this may entail will vary by context, but could be as simple as a gesture, could be as straightforward as a gift*, and could be as complex as a just and equitable business transaction.  To give what you can, not what you can get away with.

Which is where the ladder analogy seems very apt.  In our everyday lives we are placed in ranking orders and organizational hierarchies all the time.  But those are not a measure of contribution.**  At best they ought to be a measure of responsibilities.  And a ladder just doesn’t work with only some of its rungs.***

So while maybe it’s a bit of a mixed metaphor to want to be a rung in a ladder, if we are working with others towards something – in family, in communities, in the world, in organizations, all over – we do want to be acknowledged for the heights that come from us being our rung.  And getting to share and enjoy the results of those heights.

In that way we get to fill that want of being a contribution, making a difference, being related, and being a part of a greater whole.

* Which doesn’t only mean something physical/purchased/etc.

** How much work or effort someone puts into things may be, but the ranking itself is not necessarily an indicator of it.

*** And, to be funny for a moment, if you do have ladders with missing rungs, OSHA wants to have a word with you…

[thenerdsofcolor]

Joining the Creatures of the Night at the 'Salem's Lot' Press Junket

Joining the Creatures of the Night at the 'Salem's Lot' Press Junket @streamonmax #SalemsLot

Spooky season is officially upon us, folks! And we know that because all the creepy kooky movies are starting to emerge like vampires from their coffins! And that analogy couldn’t be more apt because Gary Dauberman’s reimagining of the classic Stephen King story, Salem’s Lot will be hitting Max tomorrow! So, yeah…nailed it! Continue reading Joining the Creatures of the Night at the ‘Salem’s Lot’…

[the-firebird69]

We have a couple more things these people in the house apt but not his friends their enemies listen to the lot and they're trying to bully him and they fail to get right up and start to try and do it again Turns out this is max from HHH then they kept pushing and pushing now they have a war and conversely use **** once again conversely these trumpsters are doing what they want but because of that they're at war with the max those we don't take that **** yeah they overdid it you had a lot of fun it's good they have fun dying son and I will say when you go to your facilities or city you're gonna heated this annoying grinding sound and it will continue just like you are an annoying sound, until your cities are gone in this weekend what's Honduras everybody goes to Honduras that's not what it is I see what you're saying and asking there's an article in the New York Times about Prospera a city in Honduras which is supposed to be a utopian society and it was formed by these Morlock who don't know how to do it and they ruined it early on and they are a wreck but they are the ad in the article are up there because they're saying the Honduran government and the Honduran government wants to eliminate it means in an analogous to mostly the M ac proper now they war

and good he is feeling it but we help ok all good he an she say

Thor Freya

Olympus

[capricorn-0mnikorn]

Quoted tag:

#my two cents is that i think revenge that focuses on anything other than disability is Fine and can be good

Hm. Yeah, I see your point, but on the other hand...

I see this as analogous to the lines in the Betchdel-Wallace Test: "Talk to Each Other / About something other than a Man."

I started wondering about that when I was watching a Police Procedural, and the two female detectives were discussing the fate of the murder victim of the week, who happened to be a man, because it could be argued that they were talking about their job. So did that make it a grey area?

And a friend pointed out that it was not a grey area, because a man was still the center of their attention, and the focus of the story.

"The Bitter Cripple" is such a common trope across so many genres that the audience has been primed to expect it. And even if the author explicitly writes that the character's motivation for revenge is something other than their disability itself, the audience is apt to fill in the blanks with "Well, if they weren't made bitter by being Disabled, they would have settled on a different way to find peace than seeking revenge."

What I came up with, above, is the "Seek, and Find, some Other Motivation Challenge" ('Cause 'Revenge' has been so done).

But, yeah. It's nuances like this that made me decide to call this a "Template" rather than a "Test." It's certainly possible to write a positive depiction of disability that includes a revenge motive. So I wouldn't say such a story "Failed my test." But it wouldn't have fit this template.

What disabled readers want* from non-disabled sci-fi and fantasy** writers:

Imagine your world where we exist, without being a tragedy, a burden, or (functionally) erased.

Back in 2019, I came up with my own metric for Disability Representation in stories, inspired by the Bechdel-Wallace Test.

I named it the "1,001 Problems Template"

There's a disabled character,

Who wants something,

Beyond Revenge, Cure, or Death,

And personally takes action to achieve it.

I decided to call it a "Template," rather than "test," because I hope that it's a useful tool, and not something to Pass or Fail. 1,001 Problems, because, Yeah. Disability can be a bitch, but characters can have 1,000 other things they're dealing with, too. And you can write a story about any one of them.

The point being: If you can imagine us as part of your make-believe future, and fairy tale past, then it's easier to include us in your real world present.

*With the understanding, of course, that not all readers want the same thing [/standard "Your mileage may vary" disclaimer]

**In other genres, too, while we're at it.

[wishmaker-astra]

Anonymous Psychic here. Yes, it does. After a while the psionics become basically an extension of yourself.

I mean, they already are. Psychic abilities are fully part of me. I couldn't get rid of them if I wanted to. And I don't. I mean, ok, I could wear some of the cutting edge new suppression tech at all times, but given how different some of my stuff is... unclear if it'd even WORK. Also, like, would mess with ability to talk.

Anyways, since got distracted... yeah, docs were talking about how I probably needed to grow new neural connections, and I honestly agree. I've used the comparison to a baby learning to walk before, and I still think that analogy is apt. If I'm just slowly building up new skills like someone learning to walk... yeah, that does imply eventually a bunch of stuff will just end up reflexive and subconscious. Probably. I still need to consciously and actively choose to do a lot of stuff, just... there's consciously and "consciously" where you're just absentmindedly doing it. So... who knows.

[cosmicdreamgrl]

Which Witch does something to me. It scratches a part of my brain and I can’t get enough of it! So yeah I’m going through it so you do too!!!

nothing like having a discussion about our queen to kickstart the day, i'm not surprised, i feel like this song is a favourite among all fatm fans. also, the final chorus? tell me that's not a direct reference to the 'these chains never leave me, i keep dragging them around' lyric from delilah aka acknowledging that you know you could free yourself from whatever hell you're in but you kind of choose not to? obviously there are a lot of outside factors that lend to analogy as well but it's fascinating to see a running thematic arc throughout the whole album. it really plays into the ideology of change being stagnated, which is contradictory because i always say change is the one thing that's constant in life & happens regardless but not in the instance of ones' self, i feel like.

okay, that's enough of me being a nerd, apparently there's no off switch for that lol. thank you for this, apryl and apt timing too since i see her at royal albert hall in about 4 months, SCREAMING

i hope you're doing well and if you ever want to catch up again, let me know. i love you, take care as always 💗

[realityhelixcreates]

Boarded Up Paradise pt. 4

Nash really does have some of the stranger acquaintances.

Song: Monster-Lady Gaga

Warning: Nash is still underage and some sexual-ish things do happen in this fic. Certain non-consensual actions are implied here and there.

The next few days found him studying what occult texts he'd been able to scrape together, a dictionary app perpetually open on his phone. He waded through lists of demonic orders, the monarchies and dwellings of Hell, the great circles and their mighty rulers.

It was challenging: Most of the books used obscure language, heavy symbolism, and references that were lost to the centuries. And all of them cited the writings of others, texts he did not yet have access to. Even Dante's 'Comedia ', which was not an occult book, but an epic poem, mentioned writings, individuals, anecdotes, and political factions he had never heard of.

The endeavor spun out ahead of him, eating up his time and brainpower, almost before he'd even begun.

“~Oh? Are you trying to study me~” Lust asked, craning over his shoulder. “~How flattering~”

Nash jumped. He hadn't yet heard Lust make noise when he moved, and the beautiful being merged effortlessly with any nearby shadows. Nash suspected that Lust liked to startle him on purpose because of the little yelp he always made. It annoyed Nash but it was also kind of nice, that Lust seemed to like him so much.

He was also beginning to like Lust, not just as a benefactor, but as a person. He was witty, funny and spoke with interesting turns of phrase. His voice was so beautiful, and he was knowledgeable, yet secretive, clever, and smug, and alluring.

Their previous argument was behind them now. Nash held grudges like baby birds, but he'd had to admit that Lust hadn't known who Narci was, so of course he would have seen him as food. Lust had owned up to overreacting, and Nash had introduced him to the concept of 'hangry'.

“Yeah, I am. I thought I ought to know, and you mentioned occultism...”

“~Well, Demonology more specifically~” Lust picked up the copy of Comedia, flipping through the pages. “~Ah, Dante. Such a dreamer. Nice to see some of the classics are still in print. And the ArsGoetia as well? So many familiar names~”

“Your friends?”

“~My subordinates, some of them~”

“What, even the kings?”

Lust shrugged.

“~Their kingdoms are located within my realm, and my realm is me. Of course they are beholden to me. This is not to say that I command them with crown and scepter. Just that I am an inescapable, overarching presence in their lives, as ubiquitous to them as the sky is to you. If the sky were to suddenly speak to you, I am sure you would listen as well~”

Five foot eight and greater than kings. How much power could be condensed into a body of smoke?

Lust caught him looking, smiled slyly.

“~This is not the fullness of me~” he said, gesturing to his body suggestively. Nash squinted at him.

“Are you still in Hell?” he asked. “Right now?”

“~Most of me is, yes~ Lust answered.

“How? Is what I'm seeing now some kind of puppet? Like an anglerfish lure?”

“~My, the questions just consume you don't they, little Eddie? I ought to ask tribute in exchange for such information~”

“You don't have to tell me.” Nash said. “I just thought it might be easier to get information directly from the source.”

“~Oh? Think me easy, do you~” Lust teased, laughing at Nash's dry expression. “~Information is a pricey commodity, and this, I think, may be quite difficult to explain indeed. We can just stick with the anglerfish analogy for now. It's wrong in almost every possible way, but also a very apt description~”

He laughed again at Nash's annoyed pout, ruffling his wavy hair with a long hand.

“~Don't be mad, dear. Or do, it's very cute. But it's just hard to explain. Certain things simply don't fit human words very well. How do I describe something when your language doesn't have the words for it~”

“Well...what words do fit?”

Lust spoke then, or rather, made sounds. They slid through Nash, leaving nausea and deep dread, but no comprehension. He shivered.

“S-stop. Please...” he whimpered. Lust fell silent, reaching out to steady him on his shaking knees.

“~You're very sensitive to the Debased Song, aren't you? I'm sorry dear Eddie. For a moment, I forgot how difficult it is for mortals to take. Are you all right~”

“'M fine.” Nash mumbled, but the horrible wrongness clung on.

It stayed with him for the rest of the night. He set aside study in favor of a long shower and a short supper. Looking at the demonology books made his stomach churn.

A few days later found a wandering Nash lost in a familiar place.

Well, lost was perhaps not the most accurate word. Nash could see for miles around him, the flat landscape had been scoured of every organic thing, all the way down to the stone. Only one landmark broke the lifeless monotony of the area: a tottering, Seussian building of gnawed, sunbleached stucco, like several crooked shacks stacked atop one another.

This world was a huge trap, with multiple ways in, but only one way out. Nash knew that his safety was contingent upon whether the inhabitant of that rickety shack had eaten recently or not.

He hadn't really meant to come here, no one did. But like an ant in the mouth of a pitcher plant, he headed for the only exit he knew of; the dark, open door of the ramshackle building.

Thick, oily clouds blocked the sun, but not the heat. It radiated down from the sky, and back up from the cracked stone. Nash stripped off his hoodie and scrunched the long sleeves of his shirt high up his thin arms. Though the shack was visible from every part of the wasteland, jutting up from the bare stone like a broken bone, it was actually quite a walk from the edges to its central location. Nash was panting by the time he reached it, and took a few moments rest in the scant shade of the precariously balanced awning over the open door.

Those moments were too much; though there had been no sound, Nash knew it was there, right behind him, by the tiniest stirring of breath on the back of his neck.

“Hi Mons.” he said, keeping his voice light. The pressure of its presence moved away.

“Helllo Naaaash.” Mons breathed, his heavy voice plodding from the dark doorway. “Youuu don't smelll assss tasssty todaaaay.”

“Please don't say things like that.” Nash said, turning to watch the doorway. It wasn't like he could outrun Gluttony's host, but if he was going to die, he wanted to be facing it.

In the sharp shadows he caught the shrugging of rail thin shoulders, the rolling of red pinprick eyes.

“I haaave eatennn.” Mons assured him. Nash didn't ask what. Nash never asked Mons about food. Not when he knew what had happened to every animal and insect, every blade of grass, every particle of soil that had once existed in this place. He knew how wide those jaws could open.

“Whaaat bringggsss youuu here todayyy?” Mons asked. “Whyyyy do youuuu smelll like thaaaaat?”

“Like what? I got a bit sweaty on the way here, but it's not that bad, is it?”

Mons stepped partially into the shade of the awning. Nash knew that Mons could change the shape of his body somewhat, and suspected that he had some kind of alternate form that might correspond to the oddly proportioned spiral staircase that supported his derelict home. Now, as usual, he took the shape of a repulsively thin, tall man, in stained and tattered clothing that may have once been fine, and may have once been green, but was now so bedraggled and splotched with reddish brown that it was impossible to tell anymore. Only one of his legs was visible; the back half of his body disappearing into the unnatural gloom inside his home. Nash didn't want to think about it.

“You smelll like Helll.” Mons hissed. “Upperrr Helll. Putrid ozzzone. Whooo have you beeeeeen talkinggg to?”

Mons could smell it too? Lust did have a scent; a pleasant mix of roses and petrichor. It must have rubbed off a bit on Nash.

“It's, um, it's Lust.” Nash admitted. “That Lust. Do you know him?”

Mons stared placidly down at Nash for a few moments.

“Jussst a seconnnd.” Mons said, and Nash swore he heard exasperation in the stretched out words. Mons stilled, staring up at the overcast sky. The red dots of his eyes rolled back, leaving only wet black pits. His arms went slack, and his jaw began to droop like a dead thing, further and further until Nash grabbed it and shoved it back up, just so he didn't have to see.

Mons snorted, shook him off.

“Yesss, that is Lusssst youuu havvve been talllking tooo. Glut saysss he'sss back innn the materialll worrrrld. It'sss beennnn...ohhh a longggg time sinnnnce so mannny were therrrre.”

“When was the last time?” Nash asked.

“Ohhh...the Napoleannnic Warrrsss.” Mons said.

No way was Mons that old, Nash was sure. At the same time, he didn't really want to call him on it.

“Nowww, corrrrelationnn iss not causssationn of corrrrse. But ifff youu everr meet Prrrride or Wrrrrath, welll...not thaaaat I think thaaaat willl happennn againnn. It'lll be sssomethinggg elsssse thisss time. Ssso, did youuu commme to me forrr advice, Naaash?”

“I don't really know.” Nash admitted. “I'm not used to living with things like this. A lot happened recently. Dad's dead.”

“Congrrratulationsss.”

Nash nodded.

“Yeah, but now I'm on my own. Really on my own this time, nothing to go back to, nothing more than what I can carry. It's kinda crazy, how tough real freedom is.”

“Ohh yessss. Youuu are feeeeeling lossst perhapsss? Withouuuuut purposse?”

“Kinda. It's not unbearable. I've got school most days, so there's a roof over my head for forty hours a week, guaranteed. I'm not alone. I don't want to bug anybody for help, but I know I can if I really, really have to. I have my traps that I can build, and I'm scouting out a few little lairs I can hide away in. But right now, I'm in an abandoned house, and I have to share it with Lust. He was there first, and it's not like I can kick him out. And I don't really want to, anyway. I like talking to him.”

“I imaginnnne sso.” Mons said, seating himself on the small porch, still half in, half out of the dark doorway. Nash thought he heard something rustling inside. “Lussst would nnnaturrrally pressent himssself ass somethinggg pleasssant.”

“You mean he's fake?”

“What doesss he loooooook like?”

“Uh, little taller than me.” Nash described. “Mostly human-ish. Long hands and fingers, and his body looks like it's made of smoke clouds, but...shiny? Like his skin is made of cellophane. He's really pretty. His eyes look like...like glowing blue stars, and he's so elegant, and he has a nice smile...”

Nash trailed off when he noticed Mons' sharktoothed grin, a bit warm around the ears. It wasn't his fault Lust was pretty! Mons had just said Lust was supposed to be like that! He couldn't be judged!

“Annnd do youuu think thaaat iss actuallly what he looookss like?” Mons asked. “Or dooo youuu think he took thaaat forrrm becauuuse youu find it 'prrretty'?”

Lust had been a shadow cloud when Nash first saw him; formless. He'd only taken shape after he had probed Nash's mind in search of something Nash desired.

What did that say about Nash? Was Lust just trying to manipulate him? Well yeah, at that moment, he had been. But now? Did he just keep that shape because Nash liked it?

“That can't be what he really looks like, right?” Nash said. “Like, in Hell. He's probably something monstrous.”

“Dependsss onnn yourr definnnition of monsssstrousss. Dooo youuu fearrr himm?”

Nash thought about it. There were definitely things about Lust to be feared. But did Nash fear him?

“No. He promised he wouldn't hurt me, and I trust him.”

Nash trusted him. He actually did. The realization startled him and Mons, who raised a bald brow.

“I gave him something. He called it a sacrifice.” Nash clarified. “In return, he promised not to hurt me and lets me stay in the house.”

“Ahhh, youuu made a paaact. Yesss thaaat cann be trrrusssted. Superrrrrnaturrral beinggggssss alll havvvve theirr ownn agendaaaas, but rrrarelly brrreak theirr worrrrdsss.”

“Even...even you?”

“Haaavvvve I everrrr prromissssed youuu anyyyyythinggg?”

“...No.”

“Therrre youuu havvve it thennn.”

“Yeah.” Nash said. “Yeah, you're right. I've got a lot to think about now, but I think I can handle it. Thanks Mons.”

Mons nodded slowly.

“Niccce to beee able tooo helllp. Youuu knoww the wayyy out.”

Nash stepped past Mons, into the deep gloom of the house, and up the weird spiral staircase. Walking out onto the third floor balcony, he fearlessly leapt right off.

[eemoo1o-animoo]

You know, typically I don’t include myself in this BS, but this is ridiculous.

Firstly, the fact that you term “freaks” as affectionate in the post and yet in the tags it reads as otherwise… god.

Secondly, I looked at the notes before replying to this. People are all agreeing with this post, and saying “don’t like, don’t read” and the latter is just so contradictory, hypocritical, because yeah.

Don’t like don’t read: most of us don’t fucking read. I even have the Sebaciel tag blocked for this reason, for Pete’s sake, just like with Cielstar and so on. Presumably this is OP’s stance also, but then you make a post (several, if I’m not mistaken) in the Kuro tag that comes after us for us not reading? What?

We don’t like it! Most of us just turn our heads. Get over yourself.

And I can only imagine you didn’t tag this so the post would get more visibility with “antis”? Tag your posts, because if that is the actual reason and not it just slipping your mind, then that is just weird. Freakish, some might say.

Additionally, DNIs are there for a reason — I’ve never complained about a lack of blogs that “aren’t freaks” because some freaks either block me themselves after seeing my DNI or don’t base their whole existence and every single post on Sebaciel! And that’s not just me — several others feel this way.

In fact, I have the tag blocked so that I can avoid liking / reblogging a post that may have the tag buried under a bunch of other tags when looking through posts on a non-explicitly proship blog. Same goes for my followers — if you’re a Sebaciel shipper, you can follow me, as long as you don’t tag my posts as Sebaciel. It breaks my heart to think whatever I put out can be interpreted that way.

I think dishing out what you wish to be served is an apt analogy for this fucking vehement post. Not just OP, but everyone in the notes too! Don’t complain that antis are complaining about the pros and then complain about the pros! Don’t say we’re complaining about unable to find “non-freak” blogs when your side of the community does the same! At least not without tagging appropriately. (Tagging Sebac1el or S3baciel or whatever to “tag accordingly” but also avert the filters just also isn’t on.)

We don’t send discourse into the Sebaciel tag (the majority of us, anyway) looking for some sort of acknowledgment or reaction (which I know that I am giving — who am I? B.F. Skinner?), so don’t send it unmarked with the tag for those who literally have the tag blocked.

The manga has some baiting moments, but has anything actually been stabilised beyond Yana’s past works unrelated to Kuro? No! And until then, there will always be a fence splitting the fandom-neighbourhood down the middle. Stay in your lane and we’ll stay in ours (and, if you have to, block me!). This is the only time I’ll give my genuine stance on this sort of stuff, albeit a bit annoyedly.

I cannot take Kuroshitsuji/Black Butler antis seriously. Like there is no way you are a fan of that and still an anti, it's not physically possible. You cannot watch or read Kuroshitsuji and somehow completely miss all the very explicit sebaciel hints and vibes and shotabait. You're either a stealth freak (affectionate) or a fucking bot but there is no way you're real.