#Deal with it..CLODS!

[nexus-nebulae]

genuinely so surprised we actually were able to memorize our newer email password considering we made that email and password spontaneously during one of our most traumatic moments that was enough that we literally only remember making the email and thats it

[fiftysevenacademics]

I know "touch grass" is trite and usually said in a snarky way but sometimes you really do need to drag yourself kicking and screaming out of whatever spiral you're in and be part of nature. A walk in the park, lazing about on the beach, birdwatching, anything is good.

When I get like that, the thing that snaps me out of it is taking care of another living thing. Walk the dog even if it means cussing under my breath at how much I don't want to do it. The dog is so happy afterwards I feel amazed how something so simple makes such a big difference in his life. It's literally the highlight of his day!

Tending my garden, repotting plants, pulling weeds, digging dirt, and breaking up the clods in my hands, then mixing in fertilizer or compost. Even if I'm having the angriest, most hateful thoughts (I call this rage gardening) when I start, after a little while I realize I'm feeling absolutely nothing at all, and then, slowly, I start feeling happier, nurturing, connected to a thread of life that is completely outside of myself.

I think when we're at our lowest or wrapped up in our own heads, we need to reach out and grab hold of these threads and weave ourselves into them so that we feel connected to the pulse of the universe and rhythms of life.

Which is a long and pretentious way of saying I was tempted to spend my day off watching my shows, but forced myself to walk the dog and deal with an out of control potted plant situation on the patio instead and now I feel reborn.

[writtenbymoonflower]

Hello lovely! I have a pretty weird/specific request. So if you don’t feel like writing it no big deal. I have celiacs, which means anytime I eat gluten(bread and such) my body turns autoimmune. Meaning every time I eat it(on accident but I just got diagnosed we all thought I just had a shitty immune system and a sensitive tummy so it’s been a bit of an adjustment) I end up getting an upper respiratory infection/issues or the flu(body aches and all). Anyways can I have a small story with whichever marauder you think fits it, with clod/flu supplies always at the ready and just not minding that she is ALWAYS sick 🥺 if not it’s a okay I understand 💕💕 just feel free to delete ☺️☺️

hi hunny! i hope you are doing well! remus lupin x fem!reader

cw: mentions of being sick, flu like symptoms

650 words

When the bedroom door opened, you could see the immediate concern written over Remus’ face. Under usual circumstances, he would get home about an hour before you, more if things at work were particularly swamped. Seeing that you were home obviously long before him, wrapped in twisted sheets and looking miserable, was enough to make him panic. Still, he was as gentle as ever when he crouched by your bedside, the back of his hand pressed to your scorching cheek. 

“Thought I saw your shoes by the door.” He mused, a deep groove making its home between his brows. “You feeling sick, dove?” You nodded, a wave of nausea going through you from the movement. 

“Lunch was catered at work today. My food was mislabeled, I got sent home a few hours ago.” You said miserably, squirming and desperately trying to burrow further to escape the chills. Though that meant you were too warm to be comfortable. Remus cooed sadly at your struggle. 

“I’m so sorry, darling.” He said, smoothing your damp hair from your forehead. “Have you taken anything?”

You shook your head. “When I got back I just laid down.” You knew he would to chide you, but he could see how bad you felt. His mouth was downturned, pressed into a sad line as he took in your state. 

“Are you aching? I’ll get you some paracetamol.” 

You groaned. “I think I’m out.” He ignored you, moving over to his side of the bed. You turned to watch him as he dug through his bottom bedside drawer, fishing out a thermometer and various clattering plastic bottles. He held the reader over your forehead, humming disapprovingly at the beep. 

“37.7.” He sighed, setting the thermometer down on your nightstand. “Have you eaten anything since you got sick, lovely? You can’t have these on an empty stomach.” 

You shook your head, sitting up. “I don’t know if I can handle any food right now.” He tucked your hair behind your ear, gently caressing your jaw and pouting. 

“I can get you some fruit and tea? You don’t need much, just a little something.” When you still looked unsure he sighed, though still eternally patient. “If you don’t have something it’s just going to hurt worse, baby dove.” 

You sighed. “I can try.” You smiled, more for his sake than yours. He kissed your scorching forehead. You pulled away fast, feeling a coughing fit overtake you. Remus cooed and rubbed your back as you struggled. 

“You poor thing, that doesn’t sound very good.” He grabbed the tissue box and covered your mouth for you. You wanted to bat him away and shriek, but you leaned against his chest miserably. 

“I’m sorry I always make you do this.” You muttered. He pulled away, looking at you confused. 

“You make me do… what, exactly?” He still stroked your face and head gently. 

“I’m always sick and you always have to look after me. It’s not fair to-” You couldn’t finish the sentence without coughing again. He let your fit ease before he rebutted.

“You don’t make me do anything. I don’t, and would not, do anything I wouldn't wish to.” He said intense, yet kind. “And it’s hardly your fault, it’s not like this is fair on you either, lovely girl.” 

You sighed. “You didn’t sign up for this.” He looked up thoughtfully for a moment before leaning in close, nearly touching his forehead to yours. 

“I signed up for you. All, of you.” His tone was sweet, but left no room for argument. 

“Thank you.” You mouthed. He smiled, kissing your cheek. 

“I’m going to get you some food.” He said, standing up. “And then you should get some rest.” You resisted the urge to chase him. 

“Will you stay with me?” You asked, hopeful.

“That was never in question.” He kissed your forehead again.

[supremeuppityone]

This was written for Klaroline Fanfic Week @klarolinefanficweek; Week 1 [April 1-April 5, 2025] – Mythical creatures. This is a sequel to Perhaps One Day - Chapter 18: Bury by Bedtime. Klaus was supposed to be preparing for his ritual. Instead, he was back in Mystic Falls to put down a rogue werewolf that kept inconveniently murdering people. Imagine his surprise when it turned out he wasn’t dealing with a creature that had turned rogue. And it wasn’t a werewolf. 

Part 2 - Bury by Bedtime

“And into the forest I go, to lose my mind and find my soul.” 

— John Muir

            Klaus did not appreciate a carefully crafted plan tipping off-kilter before all the pieces were in place. A series of suspicious deaths in Mystic Falls had sent him back sooner than anticipated (he hadn’t even located the moonstone yet.) It was imperative that his tedious doppelgänger was safe — for now. It had nothing to do with the daring little blonde. That he only occasionally checked up on from the shadows. On a monthly basis. And sometimes weekly. And maybe daily. Sometimes. 

            He traipsed through the same woods where he’d first encountered Caroline as a tiny thing every bit as fiery as the sunshine as she’d given him a stern talking to for being too loud as they skulked toward the rather unsavory destination of a pet cemetery. Fearless creature that she was, she’d brooked no argument for abandoning her quest and it was only through his own quiet intervention had he saved her from being hunted by the monster that she’d inadvertently invoked.

            Now there was a new monster stalking Mystic Falls. And Caroline was in danger.

_______________________________

            His Caroline seemed to make it a habit of finding trouble. Most recently, she’d been in a car wreck and nearly died. In fact, had he not compelled every medical professional in town to dose her with his blood should she be injured or admitted to the hospital, she would’ve died from her injuries. While that had been unnerving, the confluence of absurd-yet-dangerous events that followed had been even more disastrous.

            Next, Caroline died despite Klaus having been assured by the entire Mystic Falls Hospital board of directors he’d compelled that her recovery was nothing short of miraculous. The circumstances of her death were quite dodgy and he nearly ruined the plans he’d jealously guarded for centuries just to secure her safety in person. 

            Then, Caroline had risen a vampire, plunged into a world she’d never imagined. Katerina, an old enemy of Klaus’, erroneously assumed that Caroline had been inconsequential, whose worth as a ritual ingredient would somehow convince Klaus to forgive Katerina’s debt. She’d foolishly thought Elijah’s love for her would stay Klaus’ hand. Katerina’s skull now decorated the mantle of one of Klaus’ English country estates.

            Klaus had been amazed (and as proud as a puffed-up peacock) that Caroline had taken to being a vampire as though it had been her destiny all along. Her control had been phenomenal right from the start, and he’d relied on his carefully planted safeguards (new ones less likely to be fooled) to guide Caroline as she rapidly grew into her new abilities.

            Once his pet vampires advised him of the series of suspicious deaths now taking place, Klaus had been alarmed as they sounded suspiciously like werewolves. Until he completed his ritual, he couldn’t cure Caroline if she was bitten. 

            Which is how he now found himself flashing through these infernal woods searching for Caroline because she apparently still went on morning runs. Stubborn creature. He froze at the ominous sound of wet dirt clods being kicked up by something running at a steady gallop. He took comfort in the fact that it couldn’t possibly be the thing a bitty Caroline had raised up from the pet cemetery.

            She’d had the best of intentions when she’d buried her beloved cat in the cursed land. With a child’s innocent desire to bring back her pet, she hadn’t realized the danger. For the land had soured there, and anything that rose would be possessed by a wendigo’s evil spirit. Whatever was barreling toward him now was not burdened by the slow, slithering crawl of resurrected creatures — nor did it carry the foul stench of a moldy grave. It had been his solemn pleasure to swiftly dispatch the unnatural creature that Caroline accidentally had called forth. 

            And now, it seemed he may need to do it again.

            A deep-rooted instinct caused Klaus the leap to the side, landing gracelessly into a stubby patch of prickly bushes just as a great, lumbering burst of hot air flew by. His fangs unsheathed as his own monster rose to the surface in anticipation of a good dust-up. His snarls caught in his throat when he found himself staring into a sinister pair of glowing red eyes and black shadows that swirled about to form the enormous creature. Bloody hell.

            “Bruce!” Caroline’s whisper-shout momentarily distracted both Klaus and the creature. Klaus’ own beast was a snarling, howling creature demanding he protect Caroline and he flashed in front of Caroline, shoving her back behind him as he faced off with the savage minion of hell. 

            Who had rolled over to show his belly like a beagle the size of a helicopter. What the bloody hell? 

            The creature thumped his massive tail, sending up a shower of dirt and leaves. And Caroline was cooing at the beast. “What a good puppy! You stopped when I called for you — such a smart little man!”

            Gobsmacked, Klaus watched as she stepped around him to reach for the hellhound, scratching along his flopping, slobbery jowls. Klaus asked faintly, “You call that thing Bruce?”

            Caroline stiffened at his words, whirling around to tear into him with fiery indignation. “He’s not a thing. He’s a werewolf and I named him after the shark on Finding Nemo.” She was no stranger to the supernatural world now, and could sense that he was a far older, more powerful vampire than she. And yet she’d looked at his monster with little more than irritation. Without fear. She was magnificent.

            “That’s not a werewolf.”

            “Is too,” Caroline argued, “he’s just a fancier breed of werewolf like how there’s all these different kinds of mastiff breeds, so maybe he’s like the Tibetan Mastiff of werewolf breeds?”

            Letting out a delighted chuckle, Klaus replied, “I’m quite well-versed in all things werewolf, sweetheart. And even a fledgling vampire such as yourself should know better than to get anywhere near a werewolf. Fatal bites, you know?”

            The blackest of shadows shifted along the creature’s fearsome form to playfully coil themselves around Caroline’s fingers. Boldly scratching one of the giant beast’s ears, she huffed adorably and retorted. “Of course I know to stay away from werewolves. But Bruce was wandering around lost in the woods and he seemed lonely.” Cocking her head, she asked curiously, “So, what is he then?”

            “Hellhound. Your er — Bruce is a hellhound, love.”

            Caroline’s mouth flopped open in surprise. She blinked up at Klaus several times and while her entire body stiffened, but to her credit, she continued to kneel at Bruce’s side — the hellhound showed his appreciation for her gentle pats with an excited whine. She finally snorted, “Huh. Did you know hellhounds like goldfish crackers? Well, he likes the wooden pallets they get shipped on, but the goldfish crackers are like crunchy cheese sprinkles.”

            Klaus rubbed his forehead, confounded with how far off track they’d gotten. His mission had been simple — slip into town and kill the renegade werewolf before it could harm Caroline and then quietly sneak away. Instead, the renegade werewolf turned out to be a bloody hellhound that Caroline had managed to turn into a lapdog. Not to mention how Caroline had been staring at him in a decidedly calculated manner. Surely she didn’t recognize him from her ill-conceived jaunt to the pet cemetery as a child?

            “Hey, I know you.”

            Bollocks. Forcing his face back to his human visage, he made sure his expression was politely quizzical rather than mildly panicked. He had a plan — complete his ritual, then swoop in to woo her properly after she’d mourned and then moved on from this insignificant town. He suspected attempting to woo her while plotting her classmates’ ritual murders would prove challenging.

            “You were there. In the woods that night when I was a little kid.”

            A low growl escaped Klaus’ chest, but he quickly stifled it when Bruce bared his teeth in warning. “How could you possibly remember that,” he blurted out.

            Caroline playfully rolled her eyes. “Seriously?! I met you when I was on my way to resurrect my cat in a cursed pet cemetery. It was kinda a big night for me.” She shyly brushed her hair out of her eyes, ponytail waving jauntily as she said, “Um, thanks for Peaches, by the way. I don’t know many humans — much less a scary old vampire — who would give a little kid a kitten when her dumb pet resurrection ritual didn’t work.”

            But it did work. And then he’d destroyed the foul thing that crawled out of that grave, polluted by the Wendigo. “You’re welcome, sweetheart. How does Peaches fare these days?” 

            She playfully batted away the massive nose that kept nudging her ribs as she fondly told Klaus, “Peaches is a spoiled, fat orange cat who spends his days sleeping on my laptop and stalking my hairbrush while refusing to eat store-brand anything.” A small furrow appeared on her brow as though she was thinking hard. “Why did you try to help me that night? I mean, a scary old vampire finds a little kid in the woods and doesn’t eat her — what’s up with that?”

            “Perhaps I don’t like veal,” he replied with a smirk.

            Giggling, Caroline shook her head at him. “You’re a very unusual vampire.”

            “You have no idea.”

            “And I’m betting you haven’t been back here since that night...” Darting her eyes worriedly at Bruce, she shrewdly said, “You’re here for a reason. What brought you back to Mystic Falls?”

            Well, I was concerned that a feral werewolf was jeopardizing my future plans to murder some of your classmates in a ritualistic sacrifice to break my curse and unlock my own werewolf side. “Property management,” he hurriedly blurted out. “Normally, my elder brother Elijah makes the rounds to check on the various estates, but I decided to this time.” Relief washed over him as she nodded in understanding, her skeptical expression fading.

            His gaze was drawn back to the fearsome beast affectionately nudging Caroline until she was pushed back on her delightful little arse. “There’s another reason why I’m here, sweetheart,” he reluctantly acknowledged. “There’s been too many unexplained murders. Even in this dreadful town full of simpletons, they’re starting to notice that another world exists and that never goes well for creatures like us. The Spanish Inquisition and Salem Witch Trials come to mind.”

            A cold pit formed in his belly as he watched the way Caroline immediately threw her arms around as much of the hellhound’s neck as she could reach. Taking a deep breath, she lifted her chin in stubborn defiance and protested, “Bruce is doing so much better! We’re down to just a few bodies a day now...”

            The uncertainty of her tone and those unshed tears absolutely gutted him. Would she ever fight for him the way she fought for this beast? “You can’t control him, love,” Klaus began softly. “And you value life too much to not let these deaths weigh on your conscience.” He knew his words reached Caroline when she reared back as though he’d struck her. “Eventually someone will connect you to these deaths. My family has the loyalty of a powerful coven who can open a portal to a hell dimension and return Bruce to where he belongs.”

            She huffed, tears still dangerously close to falling as she asked in a shaky voice, “Is this our thing now? You appear whenever I have a problem with a pet?”

            Her pain was on display and it was just as innocent and full of unabashed love as it was when he first met her. That she could care so deeply for such a monster gave him hope for their future. Klaus reached out his hand, heart sparking in his chest as she didn’t hesitate to curl her fingers in his as though he was her anchor in that moment. “Would you like me to come around more often,” he asked, embarrassed by how breathless he sounded. 

            A series of emotions flitted across her lovely face in rapid-fire succession and he had trouble following them all. Caroline finally gave him a small smile, her familiar, bossy tone back in place as she demanded, “Maybe. But first you have to find Bruce a really nice hell dimension.”            

And just like their first meeting in the woods, Klaus shook his head in bemusement, unable to do anything other than obey her commands.

[felassan]

Notes and thoughts on the companion Abilities we learned today -

just for reference a quick note again of what they are:

Harding - Seismic Shot; Heavy Draw; Shred; Adrenaline Rush; Soothing Potion Davrin - Battle Cry; Death from Above; Heroic Strike; Assan Strike; In War, Victory Bellara - Fade Bolts; Enfeebling Shot; Replenish; Time Slow; Galvanized Tear Taash - Fire Breath; Dragon's Roar; Dragonfire Strike; Spitfire; Fortune's Favor Lucanis - Eviscerate; Abominate; Soothing Potion; Debilitate; Adrenaline Rush Emmrich - Final Rites; Replenish; Entangling Spirits; The Bell Tolls; Time Slow Neve - Icebreaker; Blizzard; Glacial Pace; Time Slow; Replenish

Some Abilities are shared between companions. For example, both Lucanis and Harding have Adrenaline Rush and Soothing Potion, and Emmrich and Neve and Bellara all have Time Slow and Replenish. I think this is to do with the "core kits" that were mentioned before. like "Time Slow" for example as a part of the core kit for mage characters.

some of these Abilities we've seen demonstrated in gameplay videos so far or had shown/described in screenshots/articles before, like Death From Above. :>

Seismic Shot: since "seismic" can relate to earthquakes and other vibrations in the earth and its crust, this is a really cool name for one of Harding's moves (dwarf, Deep Roads, the Stone, Titans, her new earthbending skills etc) and I'm curious about both its gameplay effects and if it's tied to her new magical powers

Shred: arrowfire that shreds armor presumably

Soothing Potion and Replenish: both sound like heals

Heavy Draw: a heavy attack of Harding's? (Rook at least has access to both light attacks and heavy attacks)

Battle Cry: similar in name to previous abilities like War Cry and Battle Roar. Applies Taunted to enemies in the area

On Death From Above and Assan Strike. Death From Above deals high Stagger and can be used to deal damage from afar, presumably Assan Strike can also be used to deal damage from distance

In War, Victory: the Grey Warden motto will never not slap and evoke a great sense of heavy emotion.. 🥺 it was this part of the Grey Warden motto that was featured as a dialogue line in the release date reveal trailer. A+ name for a Grey Warden's move, no notes

Galvanized Tear: this ability is like a gravity well, it pulls enemies together. you can use it to draw enemies into one place

Adrenaline Rush: a buff that grants enhanced damage/enhances Rook's damage stats

Heroic Strike: applies the overwhelmed debuff. This causes the target to take additional Stagger ("deals high Stagger")

Eviscerate: At half health of less, this deals bonus damage, increasing in effectiveness the closer the target is to death. can be used to detonate a combo and strike a whole group of enemies

Abominate: Deals high Barrier damage and applies Knocked down to enemies in the area. can be used to knock enemies down. also, implications

Final Rites: it's giving finishing move vibes. I love the allusion to cultural practises like Last rights. very appropriate for a thoughtful, caring necromancer whose character is about exploring death and necromancy in a thoughtful nuanced way

The Bell Tolls: For Whom The Bell Tolls (two) reference? :) it's giving a 'your time alive is ending' or a 'your time as a spirit inhabiting this dead body is ending', clock strikes midnight, Cinderella-kinda vibe. bells toll in some places of worship when someone has died (funeral bells), or during other important life rites. also very appropriate for a necromancer

^ No man is an island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main. If a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less, as well as if a promontory were, as well as if a manor of thy friend’s or of thine own were: any man’s death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind, and therefore never send to know for whom the bells tolls; it tolls for thee.

Fortune's Favor: Lords of Fortune allusion, 'fortune favors the bold' :)

Taash has three abilities involving her fire-breathing and two with "dragon" in the name. 👀 they are really emphasizing the dragon connection/dragon symbolism and she is really living up to the "Ataashi" ('dragon, glorious one, great thing') in her name. in Trespasser Dragon's Breath was a Qunari conspiracy to kill most of the leadership of southern Thedas, involving explosives. I'm really curious about the specific mechanism or origin of her fire-breathing; like is she doing it the way fire-breathing performers do it irl (sounds kind of DA Artificer-y), or has she literally gained or developed some kind of literal innate fire-breathing draconic ability?

throwback to this post:

Maybe it was Taash who wrote this Codex, and the title is alliterative, “Taash Talks”? The writer comes across like a dragon enthusiast and it references being near the shore/sea. Iron Bull once said “So, when you face a dragon, does it get your heart pumping? Do you breathe a little faster, feel the blood racing?” (in the DA:TV trailer, Varric says that they will need someone “with fire in their blood” to face dragons).

Varric was being literal in that line huh. :D

the Qunari are known to hold dragons sacred. they have a physical similarity and some believe that the Tamassrans cultivate dragon blood within the Qunari, allowing some to tap into combat abilities similar to Reavers. is that practise the source of Taash's fire-breathing power? Kieran comments that Adaar's blood doesn't belong to their people. Cory also has weird comments about qunari blood. or maybe she just drank dragonblood? Reavers unlock powerful abilities by drinking it and a dragon-hunter would have access to dragonblood in abundance. Cassandra has dialogue where she tells the Inquisitor that her family used to be known for their Reavers. she says that too much dragonblood caused them to grow deformed, they grew scales and became more draconic than human. if there are legends of Reavers growing scales and draconic appearances after overindulging, why couldn't someone also breathe fire dragon-style? :D "igniting everything with draconic fury" makes me think of Reavery stuff too. Taash is out here living my Inquisitor's (who was a Reaver) dreams.

[bansurii]

FOMENT

( ͡°( ͡° ͜ʖ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)ʖ ͡°) ͡°) synopsis: of a girl who becomes a mafia femme fatale

relations; yuji, sukuna, suguru, toji, satoru x reader, special scene nanami x reader

codes; NSFW, NSFM, DNI, smut eventually, dead dove, murder, violence and sex, guns and knives, human anatomy, emotional and physical losses

wc: 2193 ( ͡°( ͡° ͜ʖ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)ʖ ͡°) ͡°)

In the somber shadows cast by ancient, towering tombstones, the funeral procession weaved its way through the hushed cemetery. The air was thick with grief, punctuated by the muffled sobs of mourners donned in the customary black attire. Amidst the sea of darkness, one figure stood out conspicuously – a woman draped in ethereal white.

(Name) , the daughter of the deceased, moved gracefully through the mourning crowd, her alabaster gown billowing like a specter in the wind. Murmurs spread like wildfire as eyes followed her unconventional choice of color, a stark departure from the customary mourning garments. Whispers of disapproval and surprise danced in the air, but (Name)  remained undeterred, an enigma wrapped in the purity of her mourning attire.

As she approached the gaping maw of the open grave, a mysterious man emerged from the shadows. Clad in a tailored suit that seemed to absorb the ambient darkness, he exuded an air of intrigue. His eyes, shrouded in mystery, locked onto (Name) 's with an intensity that sent shivers down her spine.

"I was a friend of your father's," he declared, his voice a low, gravelly rasp that seemed to echo through the melancholic atmosphere. (Name) 's gaze lingered on him, a cocktail of curiosity and suspicion swirling in her eyes.

"Friend?" she questioned, her tone laced with skepticism. "You must forgive me if I find that hard to believe. I thought I knew all of my father's associates, and you, sir, are a stranger to me."

The man's lips curled into a faint, enigmatic smile. "Your father was involved in matters that required discretion," he replied cryptically. "The doctors may have deemed his death undefined, but I assure you, there are truths lingering in the shadows that go beyond their diagnoses."

(Name) 's heart quickened as she sensed the weight of his words. Her father's demise had always been shrouded in mystery, the details concealed even from those closest to him. The man's inscrutable aura left her with more questions than answers, sparking a relentless determination to unveil the secrets buried alongside her father.

As the final clods of dirt fell upon the casket, the funeral dispersed, leaving (Name)  alone with the mysterious man and the looming specter of unanswered questions. The unraveling of her father's tangled web would lead her down a perilous path, where the line between loyalty and betrayal blurred, and the truth lay hidden in the shadows of a world she had never fathomed. 

In the days that followed the funeral, (Name)  found herself haunted by the cryptic encounter with the mysterious man. Determined to unravel the enigma surrounding her father's death, she delved into the depths of her father's past, discovering hidden connections and clandestine dealings that transcended the boundaries of legality.

Her investigation led her to dimly lit alleys, smoke-filled rooms, and the backdoors of establishments where whispered conversations carried more weight than any written contract. The underworld her father had inhabited unfolded before her, revealing a dangerous dance between power, loyalty, and betrayal.

As (Name)  navigated this treacherous terrain, the mysterious man continued to hover at the periphery of her life. He appeared when least expected, dropping cryptic hints and urging her to tread carefully. Despite his ominous warnings, (Name)  felt a strange connection to him, a connection that seemed to transcend the shadows that cloaked his true identity.

The more she uncovered, the more she realized that her father's demise was a result of a power struggle within the mafia. The undefined cause of death, as stated by the doctors, was a mere facade to shield the truth. (Name)  grew increasingly aware that the mysterious man held the key to unlocking the secrets buried within her father's world.

One fateful night, as rain poured over the city in torrents, (Name)  received an anonymous message directing her to a desolate warehouse on the outskirts of town. Clad in the same white dress she wore to the funeral, she cautiously approached the dimly lit entrance, where the mysterious man awaited.

"You've been persistent, (Name) ," he acknowledged, his voice echoing in the cavernous space. "But you're stepping into a realm where the shadows have eyes, and the truth can be more perilous than the lies that shroud it."

Undeterred, (Name)  pressed on, demanding answers. The mysterious man began to unveil the intricate web of alliances and betrayals that led to her father's demise. Each revelation brought her closer to the heart of the conspiracy, painting a picture of a clandestine world where alliances were fragile, and loyalty could be a deadly illusion.

As the pieces of the puzzle fell into place, (Name)  realized the gravity of her father's role and the dangerous legacy he left behind. The mysterious man, now revealed as a former confidant of her father, guided her through the labyrinth of deceit, helping her navigate the dangerous currents that threatened to consume her.

In the end, (Name)  faced a choice: to expose the truth and risk the wrath of the underworld, or to retreat into the safety of ignorance. Armed with newfound knowledge and a steely resolve, she emerged from the shadows, her white dress stained with the echoes of her father's secrets. The funeral might have marked the end of one chapter, but for (Name) , it was the beginning of a journey into a world where darkness and light coexisted, and the thin line between justice and vengeance blurred into obscurity.

–

Three months earlier…

The scent of aged leather and mahogany permeated the air in her father's expansive home library. (Name)  entered, finding him seated behind a grand oak desk, surrounded by shelves laden with dusty tomes and secrets. His weathered face carried a mixture of weariness and resolve as he looked up to acknowledge her presence.

"Ah, (Name) ," he greeted, his tone laced with a peculiar mix of solemnity and urgency. "Sit, my dear. There are matters we must discuss, matters that transcend the boundaries of the world you've known."

(Name)  took a seat across from her father, her eyes searching his for an explanation to the mysterious summons. He folded his hands, fingers adorned with heavy rings that seemed to whisper tales of a clandestine existence.

"Time is a relentless adversary," he began cryptically, his gaze fixed on a distant point only he could see. "And it spares no one. There are shadows within shadows, my child, secrets that define the balance of power in our world."

(Name)  furrowed her brow, sensing an ominous undercurrent in his words. "Father, what do you mean? What shadows are you speaking of?"

He leaned forward, his eyes piercing hers with a gaze that hinted at the weight of untold burdens. "Our family, (Name) , has long stood at the crossroads of power. The threads of destiny are intricately woven, and now, the mantle must pass to you."

A hush settled over the room as her father unfolded a map, tracing lines that connected their family to the Ryomen, a powerful and elusive clan within the mafia hierarchy.

"The Ryomen family," he intoned, "they hold the keys to alliances that will safeguard our legacy. You must forge an alliance with them, my dear, for they are the guardians who will assist you as you ascend to the throne that is rightfully ours."

(Name) 's eyes widened, the gravity of her father's words sinking in. "But father, I know nothing of this world, of alliances and power plays. Why must I take on such a burden?"

He sighed, a heavy exhale that seemed to carry the weight of a lifetime of decisions. "In our world, (Name) , choices are not always ours to make. Fate has set its sights upon you. The Ryomen will guide you, support you. You are destined for more than the sheltered life you've known."

As he spoke, (Name) 's heart raced with a mixture of fear and determination. Her father imparted the legacy of a hidden world, and she found herself standing at the precipice of a destiny she had never imagined.

"Embrace your destiny, (Name) ," her father urged, his voice a whisper that echoed in the quiet library. "Forge alliances, navigate the shadows, and when the time comes, rise to power. The Ryomen will be your allies, but remember, the path to greatness is fraught with sacrifice and choice."

–

As the moon hung high in the night sky, casting an ethereal glow over the city, (Name)  decided to temporarily escape the weight of her newfound responsibilities. She invited her closest friend, Yuji Itadori, to accompany her for a night on the town. Yuji, always up for an adventure, readily agreed, his infectious enthusiasm providing a welcome respite from the shadows that loomed over her.

The city's vibrant lights illuminated their path as they strolled through bustling streets, laughter and music permeating the air. (Name) , dressed in a gown that mirrored the night sky, felt a fleeting sense of normalcy. The weight of her family's legacy momentarily lifted, replaced by the carefree energy of the city at night.

As they entered a chic, dimly lit lounge, the atmosphere buzzed with lively chatter and the soothing melodies of a jazz band. Yuji guided (Name)  to a secluded corner, where they settled into plush chairs, clinking glasses to celebrate the ephemeral escape from their responsibilities.

The night unfolded in a whirlwind of laughter, shared memories, and the warmth of friendship. Yuji, always the life of the party, danced with infectious energy, pulling (Name)  into the swirl of music and laughter. In those moments, the complexities of the mafia world faded into the background, allowing (Name)  to savor the simple joy of camaraderie.

As the night progressed, they encountered a mysterious figure at the bar – a man whose eyes seemed to carry the weight of unspoken stories. Yuji's demeanor shifted subtly as he exchanged guarded glances with the stranger. When (Name)  inquired about their connection, Yuji's usually open demeanor turned reticent.

"That's just an old acquaintance," he dismissed, attempting to steer the conversation elsewhere. Despite her pressing questions, Yuji remained tight-lipped, the lines on his face betraying a mix of nostalgia and caution.

Curiosity gnawed at (Name) , but she respected Yuji's silence, knowing that some chapters of his life were meant to remain untold. The enigmatic man, acknowledging their presence with a nod, slipped away into the shadows of the crowded venue, leaving behind an air of mystery.

As the night waned, (Name)  and Yuji emerged from the lounge, the city's nocturnal pulse still throbbing around them. The encounter lingered in the back of (Name) 's mind, a puzzle piece that refused to fit into the larger picture of her life.

As they walked through the quiet streets on their way home, (Name)  stole a glance at Yuji, his gaze fixed on the distant horizon. The unspoken connection between him and the mysterious man added yet another layer to the intricate tapestry of their intertwined destinies.

In the days that followed, (Name)  couldn't shake the feeling that the encounter marked a subtle shift in the winds of fate. The shadows that clung to her family's legacy seemed to stretch further, intertwining with the enigma of Yuji's past. Little did she know, the threads of their stories were destined to weave together, revealing a tapestry of alliances and betrayals that transcended the boundaries of the clandestine world they inhabited.

Arriving back at (Name) 's home, Yuji started to speak, though his inability to find the right words about the evening kept him from loosening his tongue. (Name)  realized he wouldn’t be able to find a single syllable until she spoke, “it’s alright, Yuji. You don’t have to speak if you don’t want to. But you seem different, do you want to stay here for the night?”

His bright smile lit up her porch and the heavy energy that once lingered. “I really appreciate your understanding, but I should get back home. – I wish I could stay… but maybe another time.”

(Name)  acquiesced and watched with lightly saddened eyes as Yuji stepped off of her porch slowly. She turned to enter her own home and stalked up her steps to her bedroom where she would sleep off a long day filled with confusion and stress and the end of a good time with a great friend. 

—

“You know what you need to do, Yuji.”

Yuji sat in the armchair, however comfortable it was, he couldn’t appreciate it with the burden of a new action in order for him. He sat silently for a moment, thinking of how to tell these people, his family, that he just fucking couldn’t. 

He finally looked up at the man sitting across from him, black hair wavering in the cool air of the home with similar dark eyes burning into his soul. He fought back the fire with his own, winding his energy up to say, “I won’t do it. You don’t know what she means to me, or who she is. She isn’t just some string to play with and cut down. She means more to me than this family does and if you think for a second that-”

“Fine. I’ll give you a week to decide. It’s her… or her father.”

[beautifulhigh]

Welcome to the next edition of Jen's meta ramblings

I have watched the movie at least once a day since it came out and I kid you not, I see something new every time. The fact that this is Matthew López's first directoral debut is just... I'm in awe. And you can tell how much he loves the story because of the way things like this are set up and played out

In the novel, Henry and Alex are skinny dipping in the lake at night, and so I absolutely got the change in both time of day and also attire. But let's talk about that little island shall we?

No man is an island entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main; if a clod be washed away by the sea

Every single one of us is not meant to be alone, without connection and without a link to someone else. We are parts of a whole and if we lose that... well. It's not good.

Henry is on that island, our prince who belongs to Britain and Henry Fox who thinks he has to belong to himself. The prince is forced into status and circumstance, of appearances and mindless ribbon cuttings. When he does something that means something - like the trip to the cancer ward - then he doesn't do it with cameras. I'd argue he's not the prince there, he's Henry Fox. The man who lost his father to cancer.

But this is not that meta.

Henry has shut himself off, shut himself away. He doesn't date the people he's interested in, he doesn't live his truth (and for very good and valid reasons). He has decided that while Prince Henry belongs to Britain, Henry Fox is an island.

And look who is swimming up to that island. Look who is coming out to Henry, having realised the night before that oh yeah, I do feel forever about him and so Alex swims out to that island.

And the first thing he does? He makes Henry laugh. He is silly and fun and the complete antithesis of the composed and collected Prince of Wales. And then he joins Henry, on his island.

This gorgeous overhead shot shows us that Alex is putting himself on Henry's right (protocol or his good side?) but he's also in the centre of the island. He's not on the edge of it. In the metaphor of Henry Fox's island, Alex is putting himself at the heart of it all. RIght before he lays out his heart to Henry.

The shot that broke our hearts too, along with Henry's. Because we can see the shore in the background now. We're reminded that islands are not - they cannot be fully independent. People cannot be islands and even though Alex is literally and metaphorically planting himself at Henry's side, Henry knows that this island he's formed for himself in his heart and his sense of self cannot stand if Alex is there. If Alex is with him then he is no longer an island. Henry Fox will not belong to himself and the sense of protection and self-preservation we see coming out in the Storming of Kensington is under threat.

So he bails.

The island is submerged, like the mythical Atlantis, because how do you render land useless? Drown it. How do you deal with water? Drain it away. He abandons his island and flees back to the only other space he has left - Kensington Palace - in an attempt to regroup. He drains his life of Alex and what he brings. He has to return to being the Prince of Wales because Henry Fox got too close. Because Henry Fox realised he was being loved by a man who would literally swim out to where he is.

Moment of appreciation for the shot. Matthew, you have a fucking talent and I cannot wait to see what else you do. Because our #imtaller boy looks so small here. So lost. When else have we seen someone look so small and lost?

Oh. Yeah.

When he's curling in on himself in an almost last-ditch attempt to protect himself and his boundaries from what is coming. You can see that he's no longer dry, that Alex's "shower time" has changed him. Alex brought laughter and love and water onto his island and Henry has just realised what this means. This isn't a visitor's visa. This is immigration.

Which is what makes THIS so much more. Back to our boy, drenched from the storm, plaintively asking Henry to talk to him.

Because yes, the Storming of Kensington happens during an actual storm, but by now you know I overead into everything... so once again we have Alex "swimming" out to Henry. He's dived right in and gone are the jokes, gone is the humour. He is here and he is asking to be let in and daring Henry to send him away.

This is Alex, serious and in love and following Henry to whatever landmass he is setting foot on. Henry is trying to be an island and Alex is out here going, "I'll just build another boat you fucker". A true 'ship if you will. He swam out to an island on a lake, he flew to a tiny island across an ocean. He is standing at Henry's borders and he isn't launching an offensive. He's just saying that if Henry wants to be cut off from everything then he needs to do the cutting himself.

Prince Henry felt like he belonged to Britain, Henry Fox felt like he had to belong to himself, and Alex turned up and went "nope. Mine now". (Insert additional historical quip about the English being colonised for once.) But there is still some truth in that: the Prince is part of England, and we should all belong to ourselves even in relationships. Henry just learns that the different parts of him can co-exist. Bit like how water and land can co-exist without one destroying the other.

Henry is Alex's North Star but he's also his solid ground. Insert quip about Alex colonising Henry and claiming him for his own, planting of flag, your innuendo of choice goes here. Pyramus wished there wasn't a wall - Alex straight up scaled Henry's.

There's a divergence between Prince Henry and Henry Fox, but at the heart of them both there's Henry. And this is the man that Alex sees, this is the man that Alex loves. Alex swims out to the island for Henry Fox, Alex pushes through the rain for Prince Henry. Alex holds steady in the storm of talking with King James/Queen Mary and the public.

And it started with Alex literally making his way out to Henry on an island: be that England for the Royal Wedding, a pontoon island on a lake, or knocking down Henry's walls.

To this moment. Which is very hard to grab a screenshot of, but Alex asks Henry to "take a walk" with him. This time it's Henry going to/with Alex. The fact that he's there is one thing (and a rant rather than a meta) but at this point they have each other. They belong to each other. Where one of them goes, the other one follows. Independent, together, co-existing.

Anyway. I'm sure there will be more bullshit ramblings and metas at some point. Follow me if you want more of that (but be warned: blank and empty blogs are blocked on sight) because we are not islands in this metaphorical storm of life. Let us swim out to one another, dry off with one another, and live a life with broken down borders and walls.

ETA: I now have another name to add to the thanks. Stephen Goldblatt, from the bottom of my soul, thank you

[jayofolympus-writes]

Me? Dealing with burnout by tormenting my faves? It's more likely than you think!

cw for canon mcd

The sky had the decency to be overcast, Simon thought, eyes burning with exhaustion as he watched a wooden box slide slowly into the ground. The sun had been shining brightly for days, without a cloud in sight, mocking the loss of the brightest point in Simon's life. He had run out of tears before Johnny's family even knew he was gone, but it was as though his body hadn't realised it yet, causing his eyes to ache from tears he had no capacity to shed, and his brain to press painfully against his skull as though it wanted to escape, wanted to leak out his ears and join Johnny's grey matter in Gaz and Price's nightmares.

He heard the coughing sobs of Johnny's mother and one of the twins, and the stuttery sniffles of Johnny's younger brother, but it was all background noise to what sounded, to Simon's ear, like the end of the world. The end of his world, at least. Damp clods of dirt raining down on dark mahogany, chosen for the sensibilities of a man who would never see it.

"Thank you for coming," Graham MacTavish said, shaking hands with Price as people began to filter out of the cemetery. "It means a lot to us."

Simon knew that, if he were to turn, he would see that Graham's eyes were bloodshot, with deep bags under them. His face would be gaunt; haunted looking. Simon could not turn to see it, though; couldn't take his eyes off where the coffin was slowly being covered over. An irrational voice in the back of his mind begged him to jump in there and rip the lid off; haul Johnny out of there and save him from the claustrophobic cage he knew a coffin to be. He knew it was futile, knew there was nothing there to save. He'd seen Johnny's shattered skull with his own eyes, seen the haunted and shellshocked looks on Price and Gaz's faces. He'd held the mangled bullet that had destroyed the best thing in his life.

He understood what the MacTavishes were feeling. Johnny was so bright and brilliant, and to lose that light was like carving out his very soul, leaving a gaping, gangrenous wound that would kill him slowly. Johnny's death had ruined them all.

[rwac96]

Altered timelines au

Sonic x sally

What if sonic and Sally switched roles?

Sally: "You arrogant, silver spoon, armchair activist clod!"

Sonic: "Whoa! Miss Mobius insultin' a royal and leader of an Insurgency Group loved by the people? Temper, temper."

Sally: "I've risked my butt for this world numerous times too, Prince! How Sonia deals with that attitude of yours is beyond me!"

Sonic: "That's not what ya said last night, Sal~."

Sally: *blushes* "CAN YOU NOT!"

[linkspooky]

With all the recent development in the story and Gege's trend of deconstructing the mindset of those who places value in 'strength' over anything else and their overwhelming sense of self, where do you think is he going with Megumi? Especially with how he's been narratively intertwined with Gojo, Toji and Sukuna, all of which are embodiments of 'with strength comes solitude'.

Good question, anon. Gege has been focusing on the mindsets of larger than life characters like Sukuna, Gojo and now Kashimo lately, on people who are so self-centered and egotistical that other people barely register t them as "people." Sukuna imagines them as insects trapped in a spider web's, Gojo calls them plans, Kashimo clods of dirt. They've been getting so much focus as of late some readers are even questioning why we're taking so much time to pity characters like Sukuna for being lonely while he's actively stealing a teenager's body and destroying Megumi's life.

As you said Megumi's connected to this too. All three of these characters, Toji, Gojo and Sukuna are connected to Megumi in some way. His father, his teacher, his violator. They also represent someone Megumi could have been. He could leave sorcerer society like his father and live as a curse user. He could have grown up to unlock the full potential of the ten shadows and surpass Gojo in strength and serve as an even stronger lynchpin to Jujutsu Society. Even Sukuna saw potential in Megumi that Megumi didn't see in himself, hence why he stole his body.

They also all made the opposite choice that Megumi made. Megumi is selfish yes, he even admits so, but he values his connections with people over being strong, his job as a sorcerer, or even himself. While the characters we're talking about made the choice to value strength over everything.

Oddly enough though, Megumi has been punished so far for valuing other people while people like Sukuna keep getting what they want. Why is this? Is the manga advocating for Sukuna's point of view? Is it telling us to sympathize with him?

Twitter user @ det_critics has a good thread [x] on Sukuna's narrative role in thestory, and how the world itself seems to support him because Sukuna keeps winning unhindered continued here too [x].

It is a great thread, and it definitely is a trend that characters with strong egos and self-centered goals tend to achieve what they set out to achieve in the manga. Just to compare quickly with other characters before we dive into Sukuna.

Yuji who's goal is to help others achieve a natural death, fails consistently at every turn. Fails to help Junpei. Fails in his goal to let himself be executed to reduce the total number of deaths in the world by letting Sukuna out at Shibuya. When the option to let Angel kill him come up so she can execute sukuna and then release Gojo as a promise, he ends up letting Sukuna escape and take Megumi's body. In fact, Yuji not counting "himself" as a person that Sukuna wasn't allowed to harm in his binding vow is what allowed Sukuna to accomplish this.

Megumi who's goal is straightforward, stop Yuji's execution and find a way to fix Tsumiki's curse. When he tries to find a safe way for Tsumiki to escape the culling games he is blindisded by the fact that Tsumiki was possessed by Yorozu and he didn't notice which meant there was no saving her from the beginning, and he's also immediately taken over by Sukuna after the fact. Sukuna kills Tsumiki shortly afterwards and will proceed to do the same to his friends.

Kokichi who only wants to rejoin his friends with a healthy body, is butchered by Mahito in the forest unable to meet up with the others and warn them in time about Shibuya. While he had selfish reasons for making a deal, he was also in a way trying to protect them behind their bacs.

Miwa who is only a sorcerer to get money for her family, doesn't put in her 100% and isn't strong enough to be someone who Kokichi trusts, so he lies to her face and by the time she realizes the truth she's helpless to do anything to save him from his fate and he's already dead.

Mai who's goal is to be reunited with her sister also doesn't put her all into training as a sorcerer, and because of that she's unable to help Maki get out of the pity when they're both inside it, and the only way to escape that situation for her is to sacrifice her life to give Maki power.

All of these characters who either have selfless goals, or their actions are oriented around other people rather than themselves are relentlessly punished by the plot. It's like Gege is Gojo, chastising Megumi for making a sacrifice bunt instead of swinging for the fences.

If there are clear plot consequences for every time a character has selfless goals, while characters like Sukuna seem to only ever be rewarded then is the author agreeing with Sukuna? Sukuna whose whole philosophy is just "burn everything to the ground and do whatever you want."

Remember, there's another character who espoused a similiar philosophy before. A character who Yuji aligned with Sukuna as being "a true curse."

Don't limit yourself to just being indifferent. There's no reason to live by such a resitrcting philosophy. If you're hungry, eat. If you hate, kill. I support everything you represent, Junpei...

It's right of the strong. "All inequality in this world come down to the competetence of the individual" as Tokyo Ghoul would put it.

The strong can do whatever they like with their strength, unless someone strong enough to physically stop them comes along. It sounds simple, but Sukuna and Mahito are so poetic they make it sound like pseudo-enlightenment.

This is just me, but I don't think Gege is writing this manga with the message that "If you're strong then you should be able to do whatever you want." If only because that is a little too simple and so far Jujutsu Kaisen is a manga where no character is ever one hundred percent correct, or one hundred percent wrong in their viewpoint. To make one character right above all others strikes me against the trend of the manga thus far towards more balanced look at its characters philosophies.

Rather, I think the world so far favors Sukuna's point of view for two reasons, one Jujutsu Society is a society designed to exploit people for the favor of a few people on top. Therefore people who look out for others like Nanami dying as a cog in that society, as one of the people that society is designed to exploit, whereas people like Mei Mei who are focused on crawling to the top and being the exploiters rather than someone who is exploited benefits... well then, that's showing what Jujutsu Society is like. It's not agreeing with it. It's showing the inherent unfairness of the world and a society designed to exploit and victimized people like Mai, Kokichi and

The second is that by siding with Sukuna so much, the story shows how tempting it is to think like Sukuna. To take before your taken from, to always be the victimizer and never be the victim. The story does invite you to feel sympathy to Sukuna for an extent, but it's sympathy for the devil.

Sukuna's known as the "disgraced / fallen one" and he's being hunted by a clear analogue for a christian angel who claims to be following the beliefs of their god. Gege is likely, taking a miltonian angle with Sukuna.

Paradise Lost is an epic poem written by John Milton depicting Lucifer's fall from heaven, and then his actions in tempting Eve to eat the apple in the garden causing the fall of mankind. It's well known for making Lucifer into its protagonist despite him being the antagonist of you know... christian theology, with most of the story depicting the fall from his point of view.

One of it's most famous quotes takes place right after the fall, where Lucifer has been kicked out of heaven and he tells everyone he's totally cool with this fact. Really guys, it's great here in hell.

The mind is its own place, and in itself Can make a heav’n of hell, a hell of heav’n. What matter where, if I be still the same, And what I should be, all but less than he Whom thunder hath made greater? Here at least We shall be free: th’Almighty hath not built Here for his envy, will not drive us hence: Here we may reign secure, and in my choice To reign is worth ambition, though in hell; Better to reign in hell than serve in heav’n.

Satan justifies his disobedience because he may be cast out of heaven as punishment, but at least he's king here. It's a little bit like Sukuna's dilemna. Sukuna's philosophy is strength at the cost of everything else, you should burn everything in sight and only care about yourself. The flip side of that is that Sukuna's left all alone standing in a wasteland. He's king where he is, but he's king of absolutely nothing.

Sandman by Neil Gaiman already came up with the perfect counter to Lucifer's "Better to reign in hell"

Who in hell, doesn't dream of heaven?

Anyway, John Milton's epic is often accused of having too much sympathy for the devil, but that's actually the point. Lucifer is the narrator and he wants you to sympathize with him. He's trying to paint himself as a brooding anti-hero, who's suffering in hell because he's in the right. He's painting himself as the hero and the victim. It's about the tempting nature of sin itself.

Lucifer's not the villain of the story because he does bad things or sins however, but because he does bad things and refuses to self reflect and change on them.

In essence, Paradise Lost presents two moral paths that one can take after disobedience: the downward spiral of increasing sin and degradation, represented by Satan, and the road to redemption, represented by Adam and Eve. While Adam and Eve are the first humans to disobey God, Satan is the first of all God’s creation to disobey. His decision to rebel comes only from himself—he was not persuaded or provoked by others. Also, his decision to continue to disobey God after his fall into Hell ensures that God will not forgive him. Adam and Eve, on the other hand, decide to repent for their sins and seek forgiveness. Unlike Satan, Adam and Eve understand that their disobedience to God will be corrected through generations of toil on Earth. 

The theme of Paradise Lost is that any sinner, even Lucifer, can stop at any time and seek forgiveness instead. However, Lucifer chooses not to do that. He could leave hell at any time but he chooses to stay. He's fine in hell after all. He's totally gotten used to the temperature by now. Everything is fine Lucifer says, while everything is on fire.

Lucifer would rather stay in a hell of his own creation because it gives him the illusion of control over his life then admit he was wrong or give up that control. Even though as I said before the king of hell is still in... hell. He may be the king there but he's stuck in hell along with everyone else.

You could also connect this briefly with the budhist idea of impermanence, and the idea unhappiness is inherent to life. Sukuna and Kenjaku are both immortals who've persisted for more than a thousand years, but if from a budhist perspective life on this shithole rock is inherently unhappy for everyone then they're still stuck on this shit hole with everyone else. Neither of them are satisfied with their lives either, despite being seflish people who can take from others and get whatever they want out of life. Which once again, Budhist themes would say that anyone stuck in the cycle of reincarnation will live a life riddled with unhappiness and the only way to truly escape is to break free from the cycle, something neither Kenjaku and Sukuna will every achieve because they're postponing they're lives indefinitely.

Kenjaku's lived for a thousand years but he's bored. Nothing ever surprises him. Nothing ever happens beyond his expectations. He's constantly manipulating others to get what he wants, but he can't even vocalize what he wants.

To illustrate this concept further let's use a character from another anime who is a luciferian archetype. In Revolutionary Girl Utena there is a character named Akio, who used to be the prince Dios. A sort of deity who was once able to save every princess in the world. He was overwhelmed by the number of people demanding for his help and his sister sealed his power away in order to save his life before he worked himself to death.

Now he's reinarcnated as a mortal Akio Ohtori, who rules over Ohtori Academy, a place where children never grow up, where time doesn't seem to pass, a place that may just be purgatory. He's the chairman of the academy who also uses his power and infleunce to control the students, and manipulate them into joining a dueling tournament where they fight over his sister the rose bride, in order to try to find a student strong enough to try to unseal his old power.

WIthin the halls of Ohtori Academy Akio can do whatever he wants, he can sleep with whoever he wants, he's got this really cool car guys and he jumps on the hood and sits like this.

However, Akio may be king there but he's trapped as much as everyone else. Since Utena is about deconstructing toxic masculinity, every lie about Akio that he's powerful, that he's in control, that he's someone special is shown to be false. He's in control yeah, but that's because he's an adult manipulating teenagers. He's a teenagers idea of masculinity, which is just having a cool car, being super attractive and sleeping with wo you want. He's just an empty person, who only has power because he actively takes it away from others. The ending line of the series is his biggest victim just walking away from him, proving how powerless he is.

Akio:  I've got to rebuild the Code of the Rose Signet from scratch. Akio:  I'm counting on you, Anthy. Anthy:  You don't know what happened, do you? Akio:  What? Anthy:  It's alright now. Please go on playing make-believe "Prince" in this comfortable little coffin forever. Anthy:  But I must go. Akio:  Go? To where? Anthy:  That person hasn't vanished. She's merely left your world. Akio:  What're you talking about? Akio:  W-wait a minute! Anthy! Akio:  Anthy!! Anthy:  Farewell.

Ohtori is a coffin and Akio is trapped there the same as everyone else. Akio isn't a prince or a god, he's a corpse. He's willingly choosing to stay in hell rather than go anywhere better because that meant giving up power and control.

Doesn't that sound familiar? Kenjaku may get a lot of victories in the story, but all of his power comes from taking, manipulating, he is like Akio in the end a rapist who gets power from using and abusing others.

Literally, in both Kenjaku and Sukuna's cases because their current powers are stolen from the bodies they stole as well. As annoying as the Fraudkuna memes are theydo somewhat have a point, that Sukuna gained power from violating and taking the body of a sixteen year old boy. Without said sixteen year old boy he wouldn't even have a body to move around in because he's long dead.

They have taken, stolen, and robbed to get wat they want but arguably they are just as trapped as the main characters. Kenjaku and Sukuna get constant victories over the main characters yes, but do they get what they want? Kenjaku is still bored and he's always disappointed with how his plans turn out. As for Sukuna I have a hard time vocalizing what he wants. He lives to fill his apettite but he's always hungry. He lives to fight strong opponents, but he's number one the strongest that means there's no challenge, and number two he'll cheat, to win when he's in a corner so he deprives himself of the satisfaction that say Gojo won when he lost to a stronger opponent after giving it his absolute all.

Sukuna and Toji and Kenjaku and really whoever's philsophy of take before you're taken from and right of the strong only works as long as they are the strong ones. Mahito follows his philosophy of if you're hungry eat, and if you hate kill and it works for him right until someone stronger comes along.

That philosophy only works for you when you're the strnogest. If you show no mercy to those beneath you, then once you're no longer on top why would anyone show mercy to you? Mahito is suddenly no longer the wolf he thought he was, when he's the rabbit he acts just as frightened as all of is victims did.

The thing with all of these characters Gojo, Toji.. The second someone stronger appears they're reduced back into being human. Toji has a hole blown in him, Gojo is cut in half, they even die the same way they both die standing up. They both follow right of the strong, and kill or be killed until it's logical endpoint. They die when they're no longer the strongest.

I can go on about Toji's life and how while characters like Maki and even Gojo hold him up as some kind of paragon because he is strong, he's someone utlimately pathetic. He's so strong, but he shoots a sixteen year old girl in the head. Sixteen year old schoolgrils aren't even that strong dude. Toji is strong enough to ill any sorcerer that's not Gojo, but all the money he makes he gambles away. He jumps form women to women. He just drifts through life unable to grow up or cope with the trauma of his youth in any real way. The one thing he does care about in his life is Megumi, and his connection to Megumi is his dying thought for both of his deaths. He's strong enough to do whatever he wants, but clearly the one thing he did genuienly care about wasn't strength but Megumi considering he stabs himself in the brain rather than continue to fight Megumi once he realizes who it is. It's something that stops Toji who was apparently on a rampage as a puppet of carnage.

Toji, Gojo and Sukuna are all characters who represent who Megumi could be. They even push Megumi into thinking more like they do. Megumi believes his father didn't care about him and he's off living it up somewhere. Toji has modeled to Megumi he should dodge his responsibilities towards the ones he love and only live for himself.

Gojo has pushed Megumi into being a sorcerer with the intention of cultivating a sorcerer that's just asstrong as he is. Not all of his advice is bad "It's okay to be seflish" isn't bad advice, but he's also trying to make Megumi into a mini-Gojo. He wants to push Megumi into someone who can use the ten shadows to surpass a limitless user into taking consideration with what he wants.

Sukuna also pushed Megumi to fulfill his full potential, but that time too he had the selfish intention of you know... taking Megumi's body for himself.

Even Reggie tells Megumi he should learn to fight like a true sorcerer, and true sorcerers are con men. Megumi himself is tempted to act like them at times too. He kills a man while he's already down in cold blood, and then justifies it that it's for Tsumiki's sake when it's really just a power play. He almost mauls the girl with the scorpion hair because he finds her personality to be disgusting, once again lashing out with violence and power.

Megumi has been pushed to act this way, and Megumi himself sometimes embraces his power and uses it like this. To the point where now Megumi has been possessed by someone who is his anti-thesis, if Megumi wishes to use his power for the sake of his loved ones in his life Sukuna has no loved ones and only uses his power for himself.

In Paradise Lost, Lucifer corrupts Adam and Eve so they'll be dragged away from paradise just like him. Sukuna makes Yuji feel complicit in his massacre in Shibuya, and wants to make Megumi feel guilty for Tsumiki's murder. He also makes a point of pushing Megumi from early on to live out to his full potential.

Is Gege endorsing Sukuna's way of thinking, or is he merely showing the audience how tempting it is to think that way?

Yes, so far Sukuna has gotten away with everything while the protagonists struggle, but so did Mahito. So did Toji.

Everything he did against the protagonists in Hidden Iventory went exactly according to plan because they were worrying about protecting someone else and he only cared about wearing them down, looking for a weakness, and protecting himself until Gojo dropped his guard. Everything worked out for him until someone stronger came along.

Why would Sukuna be the exception to this rule? The entire philosophy that Sukuna builds his life around says that if he loses, than he'll be eaten too. Since he's prolonged his life for one thousand years by cheating and taking from others why exactly would he be any more satisfied with his death then Gojo or Toji was?

Is Sukuna really winning? Is he a corpse like Akio? Is he in hell like Lucifer? He's gotten everything he wanted out of life by taking from others but is he really satisfied?

Megumi may be tempted to walk the same path that they did, but I believe in the end just like Toji was saved by is connection to Megumi in his last moments we'll see Megumi be saved from Sukuna's grasp by the one thing that Sukuna doesn't have. A connection to another person, based upon love instead of power.

Because, hey, it worked for Yuta.

[theanoninyourinbox]

TF2GEMS - ALLIES V1

The allies of the TF2gems!

Vivid Sapphire has been storing up supplies, information, allies, and bubbled gems - off-colors and rebels alike. When the time was right, she trusted her loyal friend Silver Pearl and her delightful ward Green Spinel to ferry all the bubbled gems, herself included - there wouldn't be enough room otherwise.

Topaz was always close to her superior Imperial Topaz, and when a squadron of rebel gems tried to shatter him, she took the blow. Her gem was badly cracked, and she only woke healed on the ancient vessel headed to earth.

Citrine was a guard for the Jades of Yellow Diamond's court, and became close to a certain Jade. The pair were accused of treasonous thoughts by a Certain Jasper, and were spirited away by a Kindergarten worker...

Morganite always had a soft spot for her wards, often checking in on them. When Imperial Topaz asked for help hiding a fugitive Rose Quartz, she gained another ally in her secret quest - and wasn't Sapphire just pleased as punch for Morganite to have another helper!

Nearly every Amethyst on the colony knew about Amethyst Inclusion Agate, but very few knew how far he would go to help them. Only a few knew that he hid the exhausted, backed up the anxious, calmed down the furious. Only his squad of 15 knew - and then they were taken from him. The only thing that kept them from being harvested was their dedication to getting back to Their Agate - and then one day, a strange Skinny Jasper brought them to an old vessel, and a well-loved gem.

Purple Pearl served her Fluorite to near perfection, and felt happy and fulfilled in her role. No, really! Her occasional anxiety bursts were totally normal and fine! Silver Pearl is just a busybody and a nosy Nephrite - and her closest friend. And now he's dragging her away from her purpose and her life, to a grand new and terrifying adventure - if only he'd asked first...

Moonstone was one of the original rebels, one of the first to follow the siren call of freedom - and one of the very last Moonstones to be produced. Mesmerasmus has watched the rebellion rise and fall, and had to deal with the mOST INFURIATING FUSION IN THE GALAXY - anyway, when the Diamonds struck, he was stuck with Sunstone whO CAN'T EVEN GET HIS NAME RIGHT - ahemhem, and had to hide away, quietly sabotaging the Gempire he hated. And now the components of thaT ABSOLUTE CLOD - well at least Mahogany Obsidian was reasonable - were dragging him away to the planet that stole his glorious leader from him.

But the vessel, the Sword of the Galaxy, is being pursued by a team of Yellow Diamond and Blue Diamond's sharpest minds, led by one of White Diamond's favorite followers...

[leupagus]

Really enjoying writing Book 2/Season 6 of this monstrosity, where instead of having Sansa and Jon fighting to regain Winterfell and all that nonsense with the "Battle of the Bastards," it's gonna be like 10K of Sansa being the Warden of the North equivalent of that mom who just needs FIVE MINUTES OF PEACE AND QUIET YOU GODDAMN KIDS

To the Lord Robin Arryn, Defender of the Vale and Warden of the East, and my Dear Cousin,

I write to you from Wint

"Sansa — sorry, Lady Sansa, you'll never believe—"

"Jeyne, you don't have to call me 'Lady Sansa,'" Sansa said as she looked up from her parchment. "You're the steward of Winterfell now."

Jeyne Poole, hanging onto the handle of the door and swinging it absently back and forth like she'd done back when they were ten years old, frowned. "My da always said the Lord and Lady of Winterfell were worthy of respect."

Sansa leaned back in her chair. Father had dealt with the business of the holdfast in the Library Tower, so he could wrestle with the accounts without being interrupted every twenty minutes. Sansa had always thought that a bit unfair, since it meant you had to climb all those stairs just to find him, but now she was wondering if she could perhaps build the tower twenty or thirty feet higher. The exercise would probably do her good. "Your father always called mine 'oi, you,' if I recall correctly."

The look Jeyne gave her was deeply unimpressed. "Aye, and you always complained about it. Do you want to hear about the cow loose in the guest house or not?"

erfell at last, which was the dearest wish of your beloved goodfather Petyr. His dying words were to express the hope that both his goodson and his niece be safe and secure in their homes, and I am glad to say tha

"Lady Sansa, Master Mikken has refused another dozen apprentices. He said they're all 'knuckleheaded clods who wouldn't know a round ball fuller from a chisel punch." This time it was her master-at-arms, who'd been Rodrick Cassel's round-faced child named Beth when Sansa had left. Now he went by Cass and looked like he could wrestle a (very short) bear if needs be.

"I don't know a round ball fuller from a chisel punch," Sansa replied, frowning.

Cass shrugged. "Well, and nor do I. But that's near fifty lads he's turned away. We need someone helping with the forges. We've been making do with the army smiths that Prince Stannis let us—"

"Prince Stannis?" He was going to hate that.

Another shrug. "We've got to call him something, milady. You won't call him 'king,' nor will any of your bannermen, but his soldiers give us no end of trouble when we call him 'lord.' So 'prince' it is. And he is one, too, ain't he? King Robert's brother. That'd make him a prince, right?"

Sansa answered with a shrug of her own. By the time Stannis and his companies returned from the Dreadfort, everyone in the North would likely have settled on Prince Stannis, which would lead to a great deal of shouting and probably threats of lighting people on fire, but she had at least a fortnight to think of something.

"As I was saying, we can't use the Baratheon smiths forever, and the ones from our bannermen have all gone home with their bannermen. Mikken needs apprentices, and we need our forge at full strength."

"All right, let's go speak with him," Sansa sighed.

t through the goodness of Stannis, of House Baratheon, and his masterful command of the armies of the North and the Stormlands, I am now secure as Warden of the North.

Not only that, but your dear cousin, my brother Rickon has somehow survived all the danger that the North has presented, while it was under the thrall of the Ironborn and House Bolton. He is now safe and I will reu

"My lady?" Maester Wolkan peered his head into the room.

[pannman]

ACE ALASTOR WEEK DAY 1 MULTIVERSE MONDAY

Alastor x Peridot Platonic

Bare in mind this my first crossover fic I've ever done

Cw: Steven Universe characters in the not so pg environment of hazbin hotel, Angel Dust being suggestive and inappropriate as always, Alastor being a jerk

It had been one week. One week since Peridot's invention "the crossover device" has sent them to hell. Her, Steven and Amethyst. Now Peridot at first was filled with absolute glee that her invention worked but once she discovered she could not get them back the only thing she cared about was going home to Lapis and the barn and her plants. And Hell was definitely not the pg earth she was used to

They ran into trouble every which way. Until they discovered a flyer for the Hazbin Hotel. Steven so cleverly suggested that these people might be able to help. So the three of them made their way to visit the princess of hell. She was nice. Odd for a demon. But Steven really seemed to like her. Amethyst became fast friends with Husk and Angel Dust. Peridot didn't care for either of them. One was a drunk and one was a deviant. But no one could be worse than that red haired clod with antlers known as Alastor.

Peridot absolutely despised the way he got within her personal bubble almost immediately. She informed him of the discomfort it caused. And ever since then he went out of his way to push her boundaries... and her buttons. He frequently made jokes about her height. "My my I never thought I'd meet someone even shorter than Niffty" he teased. Niffty was his own personal pearl. Doing all the chores and doing it maniacal pride. As unhinged as she was, she wasn't half bad. Alastor was significantly worse. Alastor even ended up picking Peridot up like a toddler when she couldn't reach something. That infuriated her. He seemed to get some sort of sick amusement in her anger.

One week had went by and she was still no closer to getting them home and she was still dealing with that infernal demonic clod. Although she frequently took breaks to engage in the hotel's activities. At first she didn't want to but Steven convinced her to give them a try. Now she looked foward to it despite not being too fond of the other residents

Today was different though. Charlie and Steven had conspired together. It was a match made in... well, hell. They decided that today's activities would be a treasure hunt around the hotel and everyone would have a partner. Peridot hoped and prayed it was Amethyst or Steven. But she knew she wasn't so lucky. This was a set up from the very start

They paired her up with Alastor. Forced to work with her most despised enemy in hell. She only went through with it because Steven and Charlie's puppy dog eyes combined were impossible to resist. So there she was wondering about the hotel working with that smartly dressed dapper deer clod

"Alright! The sooner we beat this treasure hunt, the sooner we can go our separate ways." Peridot said. Alastor tilted his head at an unnatural angle still smiling unsettlingly. "Why? You don't like me? You don't enjoy my presence?" He spoke in a taunting tone that made it clear he knew the answer but Peridot still preferred be blunt about it. "Not particularly. No."

Alastor was not the least bit offended. "Well, that's too bad. I quite enjoy yours. Your little angry outbursts are quite adorable. Like a little Itty bitty chihuahua." He teased. "I AM NOT A CHIHUAHUA!!!" Peridot stomped her foot in fury. Alastor simply laughed.

Peridot growled up at him. "You will not laugh at me you clod!" He only laughed harder. Peridot grinded her teeth in anger. Suddenly they heard Angel's voice behind. "Why don't you two get a room huh? You can cut the sexual tension with a knife" Peridot then turned her unbridled anger at the spider. "WE ARE NOT A COUPLE!!! YOU MUST BE BLIND BECAUSE ANYONE CAN SEE THAT I CANNOT STAND THIS ANNOYING JERK AND HE IS SIMPLY A BIG BULLY WHO PICKS ON THOSE HE FINDS INFERIOR!!!" She screamed in almost a whole rant

Angel only pressed more. "Only people absolutely obsessed with each other would let each other live rent free in their heads for this long" he pointed. Peridot didn't understand that all she was doing was egging him on. "THE ONLY REASON HE LIVES RENT FREE IS BECAUSE HE NEVER PAYS HIS RENT AND AND I CANT GET HIM TO LEAVE!!!" She stomped her foot in protest but suddenly Alastor motioned for her to stop. "Leave this to me" Peridot looked up to see radio dials in his eyes as his antlers grew larger. She had never seen anything like it

"Perhaps I should remind you of who you are taunting. Because I assure its been a while since I got to let off some steam" his voice became more staticky at the end. He grew even taller and even more horrific. Angel's smug grin faded and he quickly submitted. "Whoa! I-I was just kidding!" He said. Alastor looked him dead in the eyes. "I suggest you run off before I change my mind" and with that Angel went to go find his partner and left them alone

Peridot suddenly forgot she hated him. "That was amazing! You really showed him what for!!!" Alastor smiled and dusted off his shoulder like it was nothing. "It's no big deal. Sometimes it takes a little something to put sinners back in their place. Besides he knows I'm not fond of him talking that way" Alastor replied. "Yeah he's a bit much. I don't know why Amethyst likes him so much. I mean I'm way better than him" said Peridot. "Oh! Do you fancy Amethyst?" Alastor asked

"What!?! No! Amethyst is just my friend. I dont... I don't think I've ever fancied anybody. I don't really think I'm capable of feeling that way" she admitted. Alastors sinister grin suddenly softened a bit. "I thought I was the only one...." Peridot crossed her arms in defense. "Your-you're just making fun of me again... right?" She hadn't really seen much evidence to trust Alastor in the past. But it sounded like he meant it.

"No, I'm fully serious. I've often felt revolted by the thought of carnal desires and lewd activities. Even the thought of holding hands with someone makes me feel great disdain. I never wanted anything like that despite everyone around me wanting it desperately" Peridot never thought someone could describe what she felt so perfectly. He continued "it makes me feel as if-" she finished his sentence. "Something is wrong with me..." They stared at each other for a long time.

Peridot finally decided she didn't hate Alastor. "I'm sorry for calling you an annoying jerk" she said. Alastor responded with a wave of his hand. "No, no. You were right I was going out of my way to harass you. But it was only because I like you in my own way. I find you funny and entertaining. I quite enjoy your personality and antics. But I am the one who owes you an apology. Though do not tell Charlie I ever apologized for anything." He said.

Peridot smiled up at her new friend. "Your secrets safe with me" Alastor gave her a sincere smile in return. "Now if you're ready I think I may have figured out this riddle" Peridot jumped for joy. "You did?!?" Alastor chuckled "yes, in fact I figured it out hours ago" Peridot simply laughed. "Oh Alastor! You card!"

Now that they were on good terms they won the treasure hunt in record time, they won a prize and they had a newfound friendship to go with it. And even though Peridot will still do anything to get them home again maybe... just maybe while they're stuck here it wouldn't be so bad after all. She definitely was much more comfortable now that she had a friend too

[wisteriaiswriting]

Era 2 Peridot With Clueless!Reader

Words: 201

Request: haiii can i request peridot (but like before she was redeemed and had limb enhancers) with a clueless! Reader

I'm assuming this is a gem!reader

Either way your relationship is hidden, it’s just determined by what your gem is.

If you’rea gem that’s a higher rank than her, (Which is likely) then it’s disguised as admiration and respect, something that she tends to show with a few others. So no one suspects anything when you two step aside for a little.

But if you’re a lower rank, she tries to keep you around her. Telling everyone that you’re basically her assistant, so you need to stay next to her. Is silently upset when you’re not sent with her on a mission, passing off the new snappiness as ‘Her needing to do more work because Y/N isn’t here!’

Behind closed doors are a bit different, she’s still tense but less so when it’s just you.

She has learnt not to relax straight away, so for a little while she’ll still be in her ‘work mode,’ just spend this time doing anything you want while she paces around.

That’s when she throws herself across your lap, ranting about the job and all the ‘clods’ she had to deal with.

Of course you don’t understand much or anything really, but you’re more than willing to listen to her.

[aphfanficwriters]

Monthly Members' Fics — Aug 2024

A Snake With Blue Eyes by Tentaculiferous (America/England, Canada/England, America & Canda) While Arthur is thrilled that the King of Spades has been discovered, the King himself takes less joy in being found. Alfred was happy with his life as a commoner. Maybe he hadn't had fancy clothes or even his own bedroom, but he'd had freedom. He could go where he wanted, do what he wanted, live the kind of life he wanted. Now he's supposed to waste his days sitting on a throne being the Queen's good little boytoy. Fuck that.

Strange Magic by Tentaculiferous (America/Canada/England) With the threat from the Kingdom of Clubs looming, the King, Queen, and Ace of Spades resort to an old magic ritual to save their people. But the price for their kingdom's safety may turn out to be more than Amelia and Matthew are willing to pay. (Or, Amelia, Matthew, and Rose fuck for the good of the kingdom.)

Trick Cards by Tentaculiferous (America/England, Canada/England) After a heated disagreement between King Alfred and Queen Arthur, the queen decides to end things once and for all. But Arthur isn't the only one in the castle with a trick up his sleeve, and he may be the one playing the fool in the end.

Synchronicity by proosh (France/Prussia) Francis' pre-rut rolls around and it triggers something awful and unknown within Gilbert.

The Hidden Spade — Chapter 1: The Princess and the Prologue by Actually_a_horse (America/England) When Alfred finds he has the mark of the Queen of Spades, he knows he will be forced into royalty and the feminine role of Queen—dresses and all. There is no way Alfred can allow himself to be found out, not when his freedom and identity are on the line. The universe seems to have other plans for him, however. Can Alfred keep his secret? Or is fate too strong to allow a Queen to not take her throne? (UKUS, rating may change with future chapters)

acuerdo by southerngothics (South Italy/Spain) It’s still new to him; four months is an eternity for humans, perhaps, but perspective has shortened and condensed time into a coiled thing, folding over on itself until the entire stretch of it is thin as parchment. Four months is the blink of an eye. And the fighting has not stopped since he set foot upon that little island kingdom; he hasn’t had time to truly process it all. That Romano is his now. That they are together. That every morning he will wake up and Romano will be here, and that every night Romano will be asleep in this bed. It still seems like the far-fetched dream Pedro had cooked up in hushed tones, away from the menacing glares of el Papa. Spain is convinced, somehow, that if he blinks, reality will throw its punch and he’ll be back in Palermo, crushed under that damned France’s boot. In 1282, King Peter III of Aragon is crowned King of Sicily.

s'unifier by southerngothics (America/Canada) This does nothing, it seems, to deter Canada. Instead, he only burrows his head into America’s chest and snuggles closer, and it’s almost too nostalgic for him, dragging up memories that are still fresh, haphazardly stitched-up wounds. The colonial days are hemorrhaging within him and for a moment it’s hard to think clearly, sunny days mixing with gunpowder in a disorienting flat circle of history. He wonders if it gets easier or harder as time goes on. In the early 1850s, multiple American annexation movements take root in Canada.

Teach My Heart to Bend Instead of Breaking by Tentaculiferous (Canada/England) Matthew Williams is an unusual student, a diamond shining brightly amid a sea of clods. That’s how Arthur Kirkland, his history professor sees him. Arthur’s only intention in taking Matthew under his wing is to nurture a rare talent, but it’s possible to become too close to a student. Already on thin ice with his wife and the university due to his prickly personality, getting entangled with Matthew might be what finally deals the deathblow to his marriage—and worse, his career.

Felidae by Mossy_man (Russia/Turkey) Ivan gets cat ears and pussy. Sadik gets two cocks. That's it, that's the plot.

(Prussian) Dad Baby by ChibiDashie (Austria, Germany, Prussia, OC) Based on and inspired by the Bluey Episode "Dad Baby" While Prussia was helping clean Mary's bedroom, Mary finds a mysterious object stored in her closet that came from her own mother and father. Even as Prussia demonstrated how this object worked, this gave Mary an idea to play a silly game! Hilarity and shenanigans ensue between Mary and Prussia during this funny game. aka Prussia learns how it feels to be pregnant and suffer

[fizzigigsimmer]

This is dedicated to @dragonflylady77 who is amazing always encourages me to write more in this verse and who has been having a rough week. Inspired by this post by @ariesbilly

Billy is going to have to ask out the hot neighbor who runs past his window every morning in the hospital.

In his defense he doesn’t plan for it to go down like that initially. He actually has a really good idea on how he’s going to get The Runner (what he’s going with absent of a name) off the sidewalk and into his bed. Symbolically speaking, because Billy has had too much sixty-nine in dirty club bathrooms to be a princess about whether there’s an actual bed in their future or not. 

Which is kinda how Billy arrives at his idea in the first place - the sixty nine bit. Billy’s flexible as shit, and believes in the sanctity of total body workouts. Because he’s not trying to look like an asshole. It’s about engaging muscles in equal proportions so you don’t end up looking like fucking Donkey Kong.

Anyway, Billy can do a handstand with the best of them. He can do a handstand while doing pushups. He can do a handstand one handed while doing pushups. He can do a handstand one handed while doing pushups and holding a barbell. It’s impressive shit, and it has gotten him more than a few coded glances at the gym.

The goal here is to get a piece of that ass - or better yet, let that third arm The Runner’s tight little shorts do absolute wonders with, get a piece of him - but Billy’s classy with it. He figures he’ll treat The Runner to a little show before the main event.

There is a bottle of fresh orange juice and a carton of eggs in his fridge that says he knows how to show a guy he’s more than just a hit and dip. Billy even showers before he goes outside to begin his workout, considerate of the fact that sweat & musk isn’t everyone’s favorite combination. He does up his hair, forgoes a shirt, and puts on his sluttiest pair of sweats - the ones that make his ass pop - gathers up his shit and heads out into the front yard at just after seven A.M. His runner doesn’t usually come by until around half past, but Billy doesn’t want to chance missing him.  

Billy sets his towel and his barbells off to the side, facing the sidewalk, so that he’s got a reason to ask the runner to stop and he can see the runner coming without looking too obvious about it. He does some stretches to get limber, along with a set of jumping jacks to get his heart pumping and work up a bit of a sweat. 

A group of pre-teen girls wearing backpacks decide that right outside his house is where they need to stop and decide if one of them still has a crush on someone called Pineapple. Billy has no idea why they feel the need to speak in code like he gives a shit about their middle school drama, but they’re taking up the whole damn sidewalk with it. So Billy chucks a clod of dirt at their feet and smirks as they all jump and scream like a snake tried to bite their heels. 

The bravest of the group demands to know why he threw dirt at them to which Billy just snaps, “No loitering!”

Pouty and reluctant, the group starts to move on. Just in time too, because Billy spots The Runner turning the corner at just that moment. With a thrill of anticipation Billy times it in his head to give a good show and then baits the hook. He turns and bends down onto his hands, ass out, and then lifts his feet into the air. He peeks over his shoulder to make sure the runner is watching - oh hell yeah, he’s watching Billy with this sort of dumbstruck expression, lips parted and doe eyed - and then does a few standing crunches just to sweeten the pot.

All that’s left is to seal the deal.

“Hey can you -” Billy starts to ask if the guy can hand him one of the barbells on top of his towel but a girlish scream interrupts him. It’s not like the dirt clod scream where it was just a bunch of girls being dramatic, it’s different. The bad sort of scream that means someone has really gotten hurt or is about to. Billy falls back onto his feet as quickly as he can, instincts on high alert just as the sound of a crash follows the scream.

He sees the runner splayed out on his back halfway through the ratty old fence in the neighbors yard. The group of girls are surrounding a girl on the ground, who is clutching her leg but staring on in horror at where the runner has fallen. 

“Jesus Christ! What the hell happened?” Billy demands to know as he runs over.

“I was tying my shoe! He just tripped right over me.” The girl on the ground wails. Her friends back her up presumably. In any case they do a lot of talking at once that Billy doesn’t really listen to once he’s got the gist of it - girl bruised but okay, his plans for the morning possibly broken or dead.

Thankfully one of the girls has some sense, and a flip phone because she gets on it and starts to dial 911.  Billy doesn’t think the guy is dead judging by the way he’s groaning as he tries to lift himself, but the blood streaming down one side of his face does make him think he may have broken him a little bit.

“Hey, hey, don’t move.” Billy warns him, crouching at his side. He puts hands on him because the guy is wearing a glassy eyed expression that doesn’t give Billy great confidence that he can hear anything but the birds circling around his head. 

“You’re bleeding from your head. Are you hurt anywhere else?” Billy asks. A glance over the guys really trim and scantily clothed body would imply that other than a few scratches on his arms and legs the biggest problem is the bump on the head, but it doesn’t hurt to be sure.

“I’m a grown man dad I can smoke pot if I wanna.” The Runner slurs, turning his head in Billy’s direction. He blinks owlishly at him as if he’s just noticed him for the first time. “Oh hi. You’re really pretty.”

Billy smirks.

“Pretty enough for you to trip over your own ass?”

Brown eyes blink back at him in glazed confusion, the runner’s brow furrowing with deep consternation.

“No. No… it wasn’t my ass, it was…” 

He tries to turn and point like a drunken child and Billy stops him before he can hurt himself further, cause he’s obviously concussed as shit.  

He’s also stupidly cute. So while Billy wasn’t really planning for this whole thing to end in a hospital bed, and to spend his morning playing bedside vigil he’s not too mad at it either.  It’s not every day someone literally falls for you.