#Uprooting technique

[gingermintpepper]

I've seen so many interesting and fun greek myth ships over the years both divine and mortal supported by text and just for fun, and yet I fear tonight, I will be throwing my hat into the ring as a propagator of niche greek myth ships because like, no seriously how is Aristaeus/Dionysus not already thing.

[animehideout]

Hi um it’s my first time requesting something..😭so I mean it’s okay if you put your other requests before me

So I was thinking maybe ..can you make a reincarnated version of a princess reader and sukuna ? Like they were lovers in past but she died because villagers killed her and her family because her father was cruel but she was nice to everyone actually and that’s why he fell for her and after 400 years he saw her again but this time she’s one of the sorcerers

For Eternity

Ryomen Sukuna X fem! Sorcerer Reader (Reincarnated)

a/n: Hii anon, hear me out, I was so excited to write this one , you guys always come up with amazing ideas OMG!! I really hope you enjoy it tho 🥺❤️.

Words count : 2.9k (Not proofread)

Angst with happy ending <3

Halted mid-fight. Crimson eyes that were amused while fighting Megumi are now wide open, in shock. Aflamed with ancient fire. His mouth parted in disbelief, unable to form a sentence while looking at you, standing in front of him, in your full glory.

“That's impossible” he managed to say.

Too distracted by your surprise appearance, the love of his life, his princess, the woman he couldn't uproot from his mind despite being separated from her for 400 years, after some villagers murdered her along side her family.

Too engrossed in your face, the face he missed so much, he didn't notice Megumi's attack.

Ryomen Sukuna, the king of curses, that hundreds of sorcerers from different timelines tried to kill him but failed, ended up receiving a powerful punch on his face by Megumi.. because of you, because your presence made him weak and easily targeted.

That punch knocked some sense in him, waking him up from his trance. Now easily dodging Megumi's hits, shoving him aside, no longer interested in fighting some jujutsu sorcerer.

“Y/n” he said as he took a closer step to you, his voice was so soft and sweet, making Megumi look in confusion. “My princess” he added, gently extending his hand to you,

but was met with your cold eyes, clenching your fists into a fighting position, ready to use your jujutsu technique and kill him. Sukuna chuckled in confusion, why on earth would you fight the man you loved against your family and people's will?

“What are you doing? Y/n?” he asked not realizing that being reincarnated means forgetting your past life.

“What am I doing? I'm going to exorcise you Ryomen Sukuna and free the world from your evil” you exclaimed in a challenging voice, yet perplexed by his question and how he knew your name even though it was your first time meeting.

“Y/N RUN” yelled Megumi from the other side as Sukuna got way too close to you, but you stood your ground.

“No you won't kill me! it's me!! the man you swore to love forever–” he explained.

“HUH?!” you and Megumi said in union.

“Are you insane? clearly living for 1000 years damaged your brain” you said in a harsh tone,

furious that Sukuna was toying with you, even though he was telling the truth. Without hesitation, you started attacking him. To your and Megumi's surprise, he didn't fight you back, or even bother to block your hits, you found it as an opportunity to harm him and maybe success in exorcising him.

His soul ached with each blow you landed on him, with the words you said to him.

“Y/n stop” he said,

but you're a jujutsu sorcerer, you can't stop, you fight to protect the weak you fight to kill curses, that's what you do. He suddenly grabbed your arm and pulled you to his chest,

“Fucking stop it Y/n and fucking remember who you truly are” he yelled.

You fought against his tight grasp even though he was holding you so delicately, yet so securely afraid to let go, afraid he might loose you again.

“I'm a jujutsu sorcerer, that's what I truly am–”

“NO YOU'RE NO SORCERER, YOU'RE THE ONE WHO I REMAINED LOYAL TO EVEN AFTER YOUR DEATH, FOR LONG 400 YEARS, YOU CAN'T BE A SORCERER WHEN YOU'RE ALREADY MINE”

You couldn't say anything but stare, eyebrows frowned with the intake of words that Sukuna said to you. When he first approached you, you thought he'd easily snap you in half, or torture you to death. But he did the unexpected, the thing that nor you or Megumi anticipated. He just held you close, and started babbling nonesense.

As long as you were safe, Megumi didn't do anything, he stood there and watched things unfold, too surprised to even react.

“I.AM.NOT.YOURS” you said through gritted teeth, freeing yourself from his embrace, eyes narrowing

“Then who the hell are you?” he asked in disappointment, his eyes fixated on your figure, trying to take into every detail of yours.

Even after years, your face and body that he worshipped and still do, is still engraved im his mind to this day.

“I already said it, I'm a jujutsu sorcerer, and I exorcise things like you” you spitted angrily.

“Things?” he repeated,

his soul shattering with the eco of your voice that rang in his ears. You weren't the princess whose kindness and gentleness captivated his cold heart and ascended on the throne of his ego. Sukuna never believed in love, just power and total vigor. But a princess, with a modest heart and a pure soul swept him off his feet, 400 years ago, making him weak and needy for love, something he never experienced, something he never dreamt of untill he met you. But now, you stood in front of him, cold and distant, full of hatred and enmity towards him. Maybe..maybe if your father wasn't cruel, maybe if those fool villagers didn't kill you, maybe if Sukuna knew beforehand and manged to save you and keep you alive, you'd still be his princess, by his side and not the jujutsu sorcerer you are.

“Then you leave me with no choice Y/n” he muttered,

the idea of killing you, killed him more.

“Y/N” yelled Megumi panicking.

You wanted to run away for your life, but you couldn't. Too scared to even move? Too attached to the idea that jujutsu sorcerers never run away? Or an invisible power held you in place?

Sukuna's red eyes started glowing, evil and scary expression drawn on his face once again, making him the ruthless king of curses that he is. His eyes couldn't leave yours, taking into your sight, one last time before be kills you.

Air hitched in your lungs from fear, you knew there's no point in fighting him back now, as your jujutsu that you've spent your whole life mastering is now useless. You closed your eyes, waiting for him to just do it and end it all, your life wasn't special....but your past life was..Oh if you knew that, you wouldn't give in to death so easily.

You waited and waited but nothing happened....

Jolting, a startled gasp left your mouth when Megumi shook you awake.

“M-megumi?...Am I dead?”

“What? No!”

“D-did you kill Sukuna?”

“No”

“Then we're both dead?”

“NO, he left”

“left?”

Is it a miracle? Did Sukuna pity you and spared your life? All these questions burned in your throat, craving answers.

“Let's go” said Megumi dragging you back to Jujutsu High.

A long sleepless night, how could you sleep after the king of curses confessed his undying love to you? What is so special about you that stopped him from splitting you in half? Looking at the dark ceiling, mind wide awake for hours now.

“What game was Sukuna playing?” you said to yourself.

You refused to believe his words, but you couldn't brush the curiosity that stirred inside you. Putting your jacket on, you headed outside for some fresh air, the room was too suffocating for you. You stood outside looking at the starry night above you, eyes fixated on one particular star, your favorite that you used to watch.

“I have to meet him again” you muttered to yourself.

You knew he could easily kill you, were you dumb or brave to chase the truth from Sukuna? You needed to know, even though you put the possibility of him making all of this up to get to Gojo Satoru and the other strong sorcerers.

Busy in your thoughts, a hand covered your mouth, making you freeze in place. You could feel his strong presence, no one other than him Sukuna Ryomen. Heart hammering against your ribcage, as if he was reading your mind, you wanted to meet him again and he showed up in the middle of the night, emerging from darkness...just for you.

“Come with me”

And who were you to fight against his will, so you followed along, his hand still on your mouth and his other arm wrapped protectively around you..he was trying to protect you while you thought he's the danger. He was loving you while you thought he's the enemy. Taking you to an abandoned place, up on a hill– Everything looked so small from up there, the city lights glistening.

“You always liked to go up on a hill and watch the sunrise with me, you said they are a proof that everyday is a new beginning and a new chance” he started, peacefully looking down at the lights.

Your eyes widened, how did he know you enjoyed watching the sunrise? was he stalking you?

“If you kidnapped me to kill me then do it already!” you said coldly but deep inside shivering form his presence.

“Kill you? 400 years mourning your death and you expect me to kill you?” he said in a sad tone, his palm cupping your cheek, as his thumb caressed the smooth skin. He closed his eyes enjoying the sensation, “I love you Y/n” he added.

You could have stepped back, but something was holding you still, an unexplained force

“But I'm alive, what death are you talking about? Are you trying to drive me insane? What game are you playing Sukuna?” you drowned him in questions, that only him hold the answers for.

You almost broke down, tears threatening to fall. He helped you sit down and took a seat next to you

“I know you're confused, I can't balme you, I'm confused too, but let me explain to you..”

you nodded weakly, all what you wanted in the first place was an explanation.

“We were lovers, many years ago, you were mine... A gentle princess that I couldn't help but fall for..you, you were a princess Y/n– your family ruled back then, your father, a cruel man, an abuser who made your life a living hell, you used to escape from him and come to me, you found safety and warmth in my arms. Despite my sins, despite my cruelty, I was always gentle with you, I've never hurt you and never will, I've lived to protect you...but I failed..” he paused clenching his jaw and tightening his fists, “They took you away from me, you were a victim of their revenge, they wanted your father to suffer by taking what he had, thinking that Killing his family would make him pay for his wrong deeds towards the villagers he oppressed.....you were the price Y/n..I couldn't get a chance to revive you, they burned you alive, leaving me with nothing but emptiness..I killed them all even your father..”

You gulped, how could you believe this when you clearly have a complete different life now. It was hard to swallow his words.

“Maybe I just look like her?..I mean your past lover, maybe it's just a coincidence we have the same name and face, may–”

“NO, it's not just your face, it's your soul, I can feel it”

“So you're saying I'm a reincarnation?” you questioned and he nodded. You stood up quickly, leaving him,

“NO Y/N WAIT.. your favorite flower is Ajisai, you enjoy looking at them” he spoke trying to prove to you that he knows more about you

“Its just a guess Sukuna, anyone can like Ajisai, not only me” you fought the urge to believe him and started walking away,

“You have a crystal necklace, I gave it to you when we first met” he said again,

and you stopped in your track, no one ever saw your necklace it was always hidden beneath your clothes..

“A star, appears in the west, you've named it Heiwa (japanese word for Peace), your favorite star, manifesting peace whenever you looked at it. Collecting leaves in Autumn, you liked the degradation of the colors. Watching the rain pour for hours, dancing while getting soaked with it, saying it purifies us, Admiring the butterflies during spring, wishing that one day you become free like them...” he added.

Electricity ran through you, hands shaking, breathing heavily as your heart raced inside. How could he know every detail about you? your habits? how could he be so accurate? It's not just a coincidence so how? You turned slowly, facing him again,

“W-who are you?”

“Ryomen Sukuna, your lover”

“I can't remember anything..” you choked on tears.

“You will, if you don't fight it back, embrace it and memories will flow back” he reassured..

The first light of dawn appeared on the horizon, a gentle gradation of purples and pinks painted the sky, gradually giving way to warm oranges and yellow. You and Sukuna watched, eyes glued ti the sky, putting you at ease, as the sun rays pierced through the darkness, casting a golden glow..maybe this sunrise is a new beginning for both of you.

“I- I have to go..”

“Wait Y/n.. promise me that you'll try to remember ” he pleaded,

you nodded, sadness taking over you, you left to Jujutsu High with a heavy heart. Was your whole life a lie?

“Where have you been?” asked Gojo, catching you as you snuck into the school.

“I- Um, I” you stuttered.

“Megumi told me about your encounter with Sukuna..hm so curious, how the king of curses withdraws from a battle field?”

you remained silent as you teacher Gojo tried to read your face,

“I don't know” you said.

“I think he's got something for you Y/n”

“It doesn't matter, right?”

“Nah it does, we can use it against him maybe..”

“How?”

“It seems like Sukuna has a weakness..you!”

“And?”

“We grasp the opportunity, you trick him and lead him to our trap, if you're in of course!” he suggested.

Will you betray him and forget about the promise you just made, to try and remember.

“I don't know Sensei, I'll think about it” you answered, you weren't in a stable state of mind of take such decision.

“Take all the time you need y/n-chan” he said with a wide smile.

Straight to your room, no missions for today, you needed solitude, you needed to know who you truly were. Locked inside no matter how much your friends tried to drag you out. Thinking and thinking.. holding the necklace that Sukuna assumed he's the one who gifted it to you. You've never remember how you got in the first place, you've been wearing it for your whole life now, its just an accessory.

Day after day, growing impatient and anxious, you thought you were going crazy, unable to focus on your present while trying to remember your past. Sleepless nights, exhaustion and living nightmares.

Enough is a enough. Sneaking out of Jujutsu High, going up that hill again. You were hoping to find Sukuna there, you wanted to tell him him to just forget about you and to kill you next time in battle. You couldn't remember, but you knew there was something hidden, far away from your reach and it tortured you. With heavy steps you hiked up...but he wasn't there...Sighing, maybe it was all a lie. Your eyes looked up, there was Heiwa, the star you named.

“please show me the truth...please I need to remember ” you pleaded to the universe, desperately whispering.

You brought you necklace that was hidden under your sweater, kissing it. The soft morning lights started crawling, your favorite star's glow slowly fading..

“Who am Im?” you asked again.

Suddenly the crystal on your necklace started ti glow once it was touched by the sun's rays. Your eyes widened, the necklace was always tucked under your clothes, never seen the day light. Each luminous pulse from the crystal seemed to sync with your heartbeat. Eyes fixated on it, you held it up, exactly in the middle aligned with the sun that rose from the east and the star thay faded in the west. The crystal radiated with memories from your past life

“I accept it, I accept my truth” you whispered.

Images, voices, scents, faces and emotions started to flow into your mind like a running river. Overwhelmed by the sudden remembrance you started crying

“I-its real” you cried out.

The crystal that once was worn as a simple accessory, transformed into a vessel of remembrance, channeling gour past life into your present, it channelled your love for Sukuna as well. Your heart suddenly full of him, as if you loved him for years, as if you've never been apart.

“Sukuna– I have to find him” you said to yourself,

ready to run as fast as you could to reach your lover and hug him again, to feel his warmth. As you turned at a random speed, you bumped into his chest, he was there, for you. His arms circled around your body, stopping you form stumbling backwards.

“S-sukuna?” you said softly,

throwing yourself into his embrace, burying your head in the crook of his neck, while sobbing uncontrollably. His strong arms pulled you close, leaving no space between your bodies.

“I knew you'd remember” he said smiling nuzzling into your hair.

You pulled away a little to look at his face, his thumb wiped your tears, his touch making your heart pound fast.

“I love you” you confessed.

“I love you too, I swear I'll protect you , I won't let anyone take you away from me this time”.

He pressed his lips against yours, pouring all of his love that was kept unspoken of after your death for 400 years into the kiss. You kissed him back, passionately. He pushed your head from the back further to his face, deepening the kiss. Oh how much he missed your taste, how much he missed your soft lips and how perfectly they fit with his. Leaving you completely breathless, hungry for more– His lips danced in sync with yours, completely devouring each other. He finally rested his forehead on yours and said,

“It doesn't matter, past or present, because in each life, you'll be only mine”.

[coffeebeanwriting]

How To Hook Readers (Pt. 1)

What exactly is a hook? A hook is a sentence or scene at the start of your story that grabs your reader's attention. Most authors believe that your first sentence should be a hook. Here are some techniques you can use when writing the start of your story.

1) Raise questions that your readers NEED to figure out. In my opinion, this is the strongest way to hook readers. The Hunger Games has one of my favorite examples of this. In the very first paragraph, Katniss thinks about how “this is the day of the reaping.” 

This mysterious event is unknown to the audience and intrigues them to read on. In short, you want your readers constantly wondering what will happen next. If you keep up this pattern of questions (and eventual answers), you’ll always be feeding your readers a steady flow of curiosity and then satisfaction once you answer the questions. 

2) Create mystery surrounding your characters. Don’t reveal everything about them right away. Instead, reveal their secrets, fears, lies, faults, and insecurities slowly. If a character walks with a limp, don’t give away the reason behind it right away. If a king is known to be the most feared in all the realm, drop hints and tease the reason— but reveal the full reason why later on.

3) Have the inciting incident occur as soon as possible. The inciting incident is the event that launches your character into the story— something that changes their lives forever. Katniss volunteers as tribute at the beginning of chapter two, and we feel compelled to read further because her whole life has been uprooted, and we want to know how she will deal with her situation.

4) Create a first line that either confuses, startles, or amazes your reader. 

5) Don’t over describe— know what to leave out. While your hook can be unfolding action or a surprise, your hook can also be a mystery. Don’t info-dump or over-explain at the start of your novel. Deliberately leave pieces of information hidden so that your reader’s are hungry to find out the answers.

6) Treat your title as a hook. Some authors will say you need to hook your reader in the first sentence, but really you can start as early as your title. What about your title (or book cover) will cause a passerby to pick it up? Use an intriguing combination of words, or leave them questioning what kind of world is inside the cover.

Instagram: coffeebeanwriting  

[dragon-communion]

Alright I have this theory about Miquella, Malenia and Trina that I need to float out there.

When we find her, Malenia specifically states that she was dreaming. She has in fact been dreaming.

I dreamt for so long. My flesh was dull gold... and my blood, rotted. Corpse after corpse, left in my wake as I awaited his return. ... Heed my words. I am Malenia. Blade of Miquella. And I have never known defeat.

It's hard to say whether or not Malenia was in communication with Miquella via dreams. I do think there's some meat to the theory that she split herself, however, very much the way Miquella and Marika did.

Malenia budded off daughters in Aeonia, and I think that in the same way Trina represents Miquella's love and Radagon might be Marika's sense of loyalty, Millicent could literally be Malenia's dignity.

There is something I must return to Malenia. The will that was once her own. The dignity, the sense of self, that allowed her to resist the call of the scarlet rot. The pride she abandoned, to meet Radahn's measure.

-Millicent

Considering how relatively willingly Malenia bloomed for us, I have to wonder if she did indeed literally lose her restraint.

And she had so many splits.

By the time we get to her, Malenia has rotted the entire Haligtree and she seems to be a hollow shell of herself, repeating who she is and what she stands for like a mantra until we make her desperate. She is frozen in time as that woman who bloomed in Caelid, I think, just a fragment made of raw determination to win at any cost.

It's also notable that the Scarlet Rot isn't just painful, it might actively cause nightmares.

Everything is as you said. Since inserting the needle, the scarlet rot has ceased to writhe. Even the nightmares have abated...

-Millicent

Malenia might've been experiencing Rot-induced nightmares for a few hundred years until we got to her.

Miquella's textual motivation for moving proverbial mountains all throughout his life was curing his sister. While he struggled to uproot it at the source, they did find several stopgap treatments: wearing Miquella's unalloyed gold, which conferred a limited amount of his own immunity onto the bearer; and the Sword Saint's flowing water techniques.

I think Trina, as Miquella's love and an aspect of his own affinity for forgetfulness/oblivion, might've become the saint of sleep specifically out of Miquella's urge to soothe his sister's unquiet dreams. She eventually expanded and gained more autonomy, moving on to the Cleanrot Knights, then the merchants and albinaurics. It's hard to say when the albinaurics were brought to her attention, but I think Miquella had a lot of dealings with Ranni, Rykard, and maybe even Iji.

(Side note: could the mirrorhelm have made Iji immune to Miquella's charm?)

Torrent's whistle in particular is delicate goldwork that I think is heavily implied to be Miquella's handiwork. Of the smiths and engineers in-game, I think Miquella's skill at making outright automail had to take at least some inspiration from Rykard's machinery, and a lot of the weapons associated with the Haligtree take inspiration from Carian weaponry. The Miquellan Knight's sword is basically a Carian sword with the glintstone switched out for Haligtree bloodstone amber. Why is that?

(Additional side note: I think Loretta might've been Radahn's teacher in the art of horsemanship and archery, considering she's the only other Carian character heavily associated with horses and archery. It'd provide a good reason for why her albinauric identity was a huge secret. And, once Radahn left for Sellia to learn gravity magic/get a new mentor, that gave her the free time she would need to champion the albinaurics and investigate the Haligtree.)

Either way, Trina would have had front row seats to the treatment of the albinaurics as servants and worse, and there's a chance that that was when she had her first encounter with the Flame of Frenzy.

Miquella's approach to excising gods was scientific, but I think Trina attacked the problem from an ideological angle. It's actually a pretty good idea, since the gods in Elden Ring seem to be ideologies made physical. Frenzy is despair- so those afflicted with Frenzy must be given hope, and they were given a "holy land" in the form of the Haligtree. And we can in fact still find their hope in the Apostate Derelict, Philia's promise of being able to birth albinaurics, in very close proximity to the largest amount of Trina's Lilies in the game.

Tl;dr: I think Trina is a saint of sleep specifically because Malenia was afflicted by Rot-nightmares, and Miquella wanted so badly to help her that he budded off an aspect of himself that could.

[evitirey]

ok so this was a beast to draw and research good GORD. this one requires a glossary so i'll be putting the entire text under a read more bar, meet me there?

I think most of us in the Avatar fandom have some range of obscure knowledge (or who knows maybe the knowledge is less obscure to everyone else and I'm the silly one) but here's a handful of words I had to learn for this: Chinampa: small, stationary, artificial island built on a freshwater lake for agricultural purposes. Chinampan was the ancient name for the southwestern region of the Valley of Mexico, the region of Xochimilco, and it was there that the technique was—and is still—most widely used. (Encyclopedia Britannica)

Conuco: A portion of earth that the native Tainos of the Caribbean would grow their crops on. (More on that later)

Winnow: In the western world, to remove (something, such as chaff) by a current of air. I specifically based theirs off of a video that @aketchjoywinnie on tiktok posted of her culture's winnows. She is from Uganda and I love her videos whenever they come across my fyp. In this case it is more of a woven basket/plate that is used for food.

As for the drawing:

The Ro'atni have 2 forms of 'floating' gardens. The first and most productive are their chinampas; kind of important to the context is that the Ro'atni were originally a river people, but a portion of their river gave way to an oxbow lake. The young lake has turned into their gardens. The chinampas are made by their swimmers who usually chose their lifestyle very young, as their bodies adjust and grow to adapt underwater better; their strakes go from soft, unobtrusive cartilage to actual strakes, smaller than the reef people's. They dive under water and plant the reedy plants that they then weave together into a roughly rectangular box. Each chinampa is a labor of love that normally takes years to make (though if they feel the next season will not be fruitful they can and will build some quickly). The base layer of the chinampas is essentially a refuse pile. Their compost, their unusable bones, any trash (which is much less than most modern societies) is thrown into the woven reed "basket" to form the solid base along with base stones. The middle layer, still submerged in water, is a combination of compost, mulch, manure, night soil and gravel.

As the compost decomposes, they churn the dirt and build it up over the years until they build above the water level; once the dirt remains relatively dry on a sunny day, and they can dig without immediately hitting mud, they begin to build the conucos on top of the chinampas.

The Conucos are logs stacked up and packed with earth, the shape keeps plants that need dryer soil out of the water, and retains water when the lake starts drying down during the dry season. As the logs decompose they leave behind air pockets for the roots to take up as well as the necessary microorganisms. Most of the weeds are allowed to grow to an extent - once they begin to choke out the plants they want, they will be cut down. The Ro'atni believe that even the most annoying creatures (weeds) have a place in the balance of life. If they're uprooted, they're tossed on shore where they continue to grow. To combat the growth of weeds, they plant a groundcover berry-producing vine that functions as a nitrogen fixer as well as food.

The second form of floating gardens tend to be used for children to learn, as they operate on the principles of aquaponics. The winnow pads are sometimes made specifically for the purpose, but often they're made from a winnow that has reached the end of its life. If it is no longer buoyant, it is tossed into the bottom of a new chinampa. If it is buoyant, then small anchors are tied to the bottom, and a fast growing plant is placed on the winnow to take advantage of the nutrition in the water. Often seedlings for the chinampas are grown this way and transplanted once they're big enough.

Now for the plants they grow; I only had the mental bandwidth to name ONE plant, and I welcome any professional Na'vi speakers to correct me on it lol. So, they grow: Furina'ngrr: Primarily this plant functions as a starchy tuber, but it also grows "beans" (in the way that a coffee bean is a bean but its actually a berry) with a soft outer fruit that the entire clan uses to produce a bright red stain/dye. Combined with red ochre and animal fat, it creates a thick, water resistant body paint that they use both to ward off bugs and to paint pretty patterns and symbols on their skin; certain ones are protective symbols. The fruit can be peeled off of the bean and the beans can be eaten; they're more often replanted to avoid genetic monocropping. They only ripen every 2 years more or less, so the elder gardeners know to stagger their crop growth to accommodate for it. The root however is the main crop from these plants. It is ground into a pulp, seasoned and wrapped in leaves, then either boiled or cooked in a firepit. It's dumpling-like in the firepit, and more like a mochi if its boiled. It can also be fried and baked depending on preparation. The roots can be replanted and this is the quickest way to propagate the plant. They also store for a long time in a root cellar like environment. This is their first source of starch.

Reed-maize: Many different kinds of reeds can be used to create chinampas, but reed-maize is the favored choice; even after their cultivation the reeds remain for a good while before decomposing, giving the gardeners time to grow their replacements, replant them around the chinampas and weave them in again. The reed-maize grow seed pods that can be harvested; they usually require a good strike to release their seeds, which is an adaptation to release their seeds during windy season when the fluffy seeds can fly far away. These were a gift from the Sa'anre side of the clan, and comes originally from the swamps and deltas they traverse; in the oxbow lake the wind is only strong enough during typhoon-like weather to open the seedpods. The seeds release from the pods wrapped in tightly coiled fibers that spring open as they fly out; the fibers carry them on the wind. So the gardeners beat the seed pods open only inside of the hometree or where large structures have been built to catch them. The fibers are hand-ginned off of the seeds, and the seeds are then winnowed free of chaff. The fiber can be processed into cloth, but its very time consuming so they often trade it out to other clans. Other uses are compost mulch, or bedding for their fishing companions. The seeds range in color from soft oranges to gray-blues; an act of love is to separate the specific color seed your child/mate/parent loves most and to make them ground cakes from the singular color. It's extremely time intensive to sort, then grind these seeds separate from all the rest. Normally however, they are stored as grain alongside the furina'ngrr. The grain can then either be processed into flour, "grits", or eaten with minimal preparation. Boiled, they taste both earthy and floral.

Oh my gosh almost done guys lets go. Together with dried and powdered meat, the clan makes a type of pemmican out of their crops; dried roots, dried meat, dried berries and fat are mixed with reed-maize flour, then dried down and stored in their root cellar caves. Their stores are for the long rainy season when hunting is difficult and flooding is common. They have also experienced famine before so they prepare for it again at all times.

Mothers sometimes make the little pemmican cakes into cute shapes for their young ones!

[theomencometh]

okay i've had this scene from an au stuck in my head recently so here's 3k of timkon identity shenanigans where kon has been recently taken in by luthor for nefarious reasons and is forced to attend a gala where tim and bruce show up. robin hasn't revealed his identity to the team yet even though they've been friends for years. canon/timeline has been put in a blender and liquified.

Kon takes a deep breath in through his nose, holding it for a few seconds before slowly letting it out of his mouth.  It’s a technique that Robin taught the team when he was trying desperately to get them on a more bat-approved training regime, including meditation and an acrobatics routine that Nightwing allegedly used on the Teen Titans years ago.  Kon is fully aware that he’s got weird stuff going on with his body’s organs and systems compared to humans, but the slow, rhythmic breathing still brings comfort and helps center him, slowing everything down enough so he no longer feels like he’s going to accidentally fry someone with his heat vision.

He tugs at the collar of his dress shirt, gulping and taking a deep breath again.  The shirt and tie feels so much more restrictive than his Superboy uniform, tightening like a noose around his neck, and the inflexibility of the suit coat makes him feel like a stiff, awkward mannequin.

“Stop that,” Luthor says, putting a heavy hand on his shoulder.  Kon immediately stills, straightening and trying to relax at the same time.

“These people are vultures,” Lex says, voice low.  Kon tries to focus his super hearing on him, rather than the woman with the loud laugh across the ballroom or the clink of glasses down the hall where the staff is continuously loading and unloading equipment.  He can hear the steady beat of Lex’s heart, the rhythmic whoosh of air traveling in his lungs, the slight gurgle of his stomach (gross!).  Kon decides he doesn’t like listening to Lex Luthor very much.

“Remember what I told you,” Lex is still saying.  “Be on your best behavior.  Today is about getting your name and your face out there.  Be polite, but not a pushover.  Never let them see weakness.”

Kon forcibly bites back the retort that his only weakness is kryptonite and makes himself nod instead.

Luthor leads him over to a group of people with his hand still clamped on Connor’s shoulder like a shackle.  From there, it’s an exhausting parade of schmoozing with millionaires and billionaires, shaking hands firmly (but not too firmly!), laughing at unfunny jokes, and pretending that he loves dear old Dad instead of wanting to punt him through the nearest wall.

Kon is charming.  He knows this.  It’s something that he’s known since he freshly came out of a test tube, and it’s something that he’s perfected with smiles and body language and a well-placed word or phrase.  Kon can get most people eating out of his hand with barely any effort, but it’s usually normal people a little closer to his age, not rich, egotistical, out-of-touch old people who want to pinch his cheeks but absolutely cannot be allowed to due to his invulnerable skin.  Kon forgets everyone’s name almost as soon as he hears it, clutching his flute of sparkling cider like a lifeline (but not hard enough to shatter).

Kon doesn’t know how long he gets paraded around as Luthor’s newest pet, but it feels like forever.  Everyone talks around where he’s been for the past 17 years of his life (nonexistent and then in a lab and then gallivanting around with superheroes and then, finally, as of two month ago a little farm in Kansas until Lex Luthor uprooted everything with a few well-placed threats), and Kon lets Lex tell the cover story about how he didn’t find out about Connor until recently, but he’s happy to be reunited with his son now.

Son.  Connor isn’t anyone’s son.  He was maybe getting to be a family member to the Kents finally, but Luthor threw a wrench into all of that.

Connor had a room at the farm.  He had a chore list to do and homemade meals to eat, and Clark has finally stopped flinching when he sees him.  Clark grinned at him the other day, not his public smile or a small, polite thing, but an actual, honest to goodness grin.  Connor bets he can kiss that goodbye now, just like he can kiss goodbye ever knowing Robin’s real identity, because there’s no way that Batman will let him tell Kon now that Kon is semi-legally under the guardianship of a supervillain, and just like there’s no way that Kon can have anything remotely resembling a normal teenage experience as the ward of a billionaire and forced showpony, and just like–

“I’ll be damned,” Lex breathes next to him, interrupting Kon’s spiral.  Kon follows his gaze to the entrance of the ballroom, ears picking up the loud, boisterous laugh of Bruce Wayne clapping someone on the back a little too forcefully.  Kon has never seen Bruce Wayne in person, but he’s difficult to miss in the papers, especially with how often he finds himself in trouble.  Robin has told him of a few instances when he or one of the other Gotham vigilantes has had to rescue him, and Kon knows that Lois interviewed him once and Clark has informally run into him at a gala such as this.

Clark says he tried really hard to be the journalist from the Planet here tonight once Lex demanded that Connor be there, but it was too late notice.  Neither Clark nor Lois are among the reporters clustered in the corner.  Kon is alone.

“He didn’t RSVP,” Lex says, miffed.  Kon immediately likes Bruce Wayne significantly more because of it.  “Oh, and he brought a friend.”

Kon peers around the crowd that has quickly amassed around Gotham’s favorite billionaire and finally spots the person Bruce Wayne has a hand on the shoulder of.  It’s a teenage boy, dressed in a dark suit with dark hair parted in the middle to keep it out of his eyes.  He’s slight, but not skinny, and he’s not overly tall, probably closer to Robin or Bart’s height than Connor’s.  He doesn’t show any signs of discomfort at the press of adults around him, offering polite handshakes and letting the women kiss his cheeks the way some of them have tried with Kon.  Bruce doesn’t stray far, taking the boy with him when they finally finish with the crowd near the door and head to the bar.  The boy doesn’t seem to mind the attention.  Kon, however, does not appreciate the tone of voice that Lex used when he said friend.  He’s ready to do some superheroing if he needs to.

“Let’s go,” Lex says, putting his hand on Connor’s shoulder again to steer him through the crowd.  “Let me handle Bruce Wayne.  The kid is Timothy Drake.  He recently became the head of his parent’s company when his father died.  This is the first time he’s been seen at an event since the death.  Bruce is almost certainly going to adopt him.  Timothy stayed with him when Jack Drake was in a coma, plus he has the dark hair and light eyes and Brucie favors in his kids.  He’s your focus for the rest of the night.  Forget about everyone else.”

“Lex!  I didn’t know you’d be here, you old dog!” Bruce calls before Connor has time to process all of that, slinging an arm around Luthor’s shoulders and seemingly crushing all of the air out of him in less than a second.

“It’s my party,” Lex wheezes.

“Good thing I’m here to liven it up, eh?” Bruce asks, elbowing Luthor in the ribs.

Kon really hopes that Bruce Wayne’s obsession with dark haired, light eyed boys is an innocent coincidence, because he doesn’t want to apprehend him for being a pedophile when he’s pissing Lex off so easily.

“Hello, Timothy,” Luthor greets, holding out his hand.  Bruce pouts at being ignored while Timothy shakes politely.  “May I just say, it’s refreshing to see you out and about.  I’m sure running your parent’s company is stressful all by yourself.”

Timothy tilts his head, reminding Connor vaguely of a bird.

“I’m happy to do it,” he says, polite but firm.  “It’s what my parents would have wanted, and they left things well organized for me.”

“And I suppose Bruce here has been giving you advice?”

“Now Lex,” Bruce says, wagging his finger at him, “you know that’d be a conflict of interest.  Besides, Tim could run circles around me.  I should be asking him for advice!”

Connor feels his eyes start to glaze over as Luthor and Bruce volley back and forth, seemingly forgetting that he’s even there.  Having Lex’s attention off of him and on someone else is a much needed break, so he’s not about to complain, but it’s also really fucking rude.  Connor hasn’t even been introduced to these two.

Timothy catches his eye, sweeping his gaze over to Luthor and Bruce and rolling his eyes.  Connor smirks.  Timothy raises an eyebrow and Connor mirrors him, just a slight quirk.

Timothy looks pretty nice, up close.  His eyes are the promised light blue, but his dark eyelashes are long and thick, framing them beautifully.  He’s pale, almost reflective in the glittering chandelier light, and he carries himself with a self-assuredness that Connor envies in this environment.  The suit fits him really nicely, hugging his shoulders and accenting his trim waist and long legs.  When he raises his flute to take a sip of the drink inside, Kon finds himself tracking the liquid as it disappears past his pale pink lips, his throat flexing as he swallows.

He’s not bad to look at.  He could easily turn out to be dull as a brick or a total douchebag, but so far first impressions are good.

“And who is this young man?” Bruce asks, snapping him out of his thoughts.  Luthor puts a hand on his back to push him forward a step, and Kon doesn’t have to move, but Lex is going to be mad if he doesn’t and the situation is delicate.

“This is my son, Connor,” Luthor introduces.  Kon offers his hand with his most charming smile.

“Nice to meet you,” he says, shaking first Bruce’s hand (better grip than he expected) and then Timothy’s (rougher than he thought it’d be, skin warm).

“Son, eh?  He must take after his mother!” Bruce laughs.  Lex’s face pinches, but Connor doesn’t have a chance to relish in it before Bruce is sweeping Luthor away with another arm around his shoulder, talking loudly about secret children and parenting hacks.  Luthor tries to protest, but it’s quickly drowned out by Bruce, and he doesn’t have a chance to so much as glance back at Connor before they’re swallowed by the crowd.

Kon blinks.

“Bruce will keep him busy for a while, sorry,” Timothy says, not sounding very sorry.  He takes another sip from his glass, then leans in.  Cologne tickles Connor’s nose.

“Hold your drink by the stem, not the glass,” he says quietly.  “It’s supposed to keep your drink from getting warm, an old etiquette thing.  It’s small, but it’ll help you blend in a little more.”

Kon looks around the room, taking in the people with flutes like him and where they’re holding it.  The majority are holding the stem, and the ones that aren’t are people that Luthor hasn’t bothered to introduce him to yet.  Kon adjusts his grip accordingly, off-balance and embarrassed.

“Thanks,” he says.  Timothy tilts his head.

“You want to get some air?  There’s a balcony over there.  Your father will be able to find you easily once Bruce releases him.”

“Yes,” Kon agrees immediately.  He’s used to not fitting in, but having the eyes of so many judgy rich people on him when he’s pretending to be Lex Luthor’s human son has been exhausting.  No one has been too rude so far, but the weight of Lex’s hand on his shoulder is heavy, and this complicated set of social rules that he still doesn’t understand puts him on edge.

Normally he’d say fuck the rules and do what he wants, but the situation is too delicate for that.  Clarke and Robin both told him that he needs to be careful and think twice about every move he makes, and for once neither of them sounded condescending about it.  He could tell that they don’t like the situation, either, worry and sympathy clear in their faces.

“Come on,” Timothy says, heading towards a set of double doors.  He doesn’t glance back, trusting Connor to follow him, and Connor does, stepping in his footsteps as he expertly weaves through the crowd, deflecting anyone trying to stop to speak to them with smooth excuses and a well-placed smile.  In no time at all he’s pushing open the large french doors, releasing them from the ballroom and into the cool night air.

Kon tilts his head up, blinking at the night sky above him.  It’s cloudy, obscuring what few stars manage to make their way through the light pollution to reach Metropolis.  Connor wishes he could fly up there, feel the dampness of early rain on his face, burst into the dark and escape everything.  For now, he keeps his feet on the ground, instead joining Timothy by the railing.

“So, how often do you come to these things, Timothy?” Connor asks, leaning back on his elbows.  The other boy perches with a hip pressed against the railing, arms crossed over his chest.

“Tim, please,” he says.  “Timothy makes me feel like I’m in trouble or you’re trying to swindle me out of a business deal.”

“Okay.  How often do you come to these things, Tim?” Connor corrects, testing the feel of it in his mouth.  Tim relaxes at the sound.

“Decently often, but I usually stick to Gotham,” he says.  “I’ll have to start coming to more now that I’m in charge of Drake Industries, but I grew up going to galas.  Is this your first one since Luthor found you?”

“Is it that obvious?” Connor asks.  Tim smirks, but shakes his head.

“I think I’d remember if I’d seen you at one of these before.”

Connor flashes him a charming smile.

“I bet you say that to all the boys.”  Tim’s cheeks turn pink, his blush noticeable against his pale skin even with the limited light out here.  Kon takes a sip of his sparkling cider, satisfaction making it taste sweeter on his tongue.

“I don’t know if you noticed, but we’re probably the only people under thirty in the whole building besides some of the catering staff,” Tim says. 

“You missed the toddler earlier,” Connor hums.  “She was throwing a tantrum.  I very much sympathized.”

“Did I really?” Tim asks dryly.  “What a pity.  Oh no.  How unfortunate that Bruce likes being fashionably late to everything.”

Connor snorts.

“Bruce Wayne, huh?” he says.  “How’d you two meet?”

Tim shifts so he’s leaning back against the railing like Kon.  Kon takes a moment to drink in his profile, tracing the sharp jut of his nose, the hair shielding his eyes from him at this angle.

“He’s my neighbor,” Tim says.  “I’ve kind of always known him, but our families weren’t really close until a few years ago.  When my dad was in a coma, Bruce took me in.  My uncle was supposed to get custody of me now, but…”

Tim trails off, searching for words.  Eventually, he shrugs.

“He’s fostering me right now.  We’ll see where it goes from there.”

“Do you want to stay with him?” Kon asks.  Tim considers his words carefully.  Connor’s mouth is always running away with him, but Tim seems to have the opposite approach.  Everything is measured and careful, cold and tactical.  It reminds Kon of Robin in the middle of missions, keeping his reactions even and methodical to counteract the impulsiveness of the rest of the team.  Kon wonders if Tim is the type of person to let himself be stupid and emotional around friends like Robin is, or if he always keeps everything bottled up.

“Yeah, I do,” Tim breathes eventually.  “But it’s complicated.”

“What do you mean?”

Another pause.  Kon does Robin’s breathing exercise, staying patient.  Some people need time to talk, and Kon can’t help if he doesn’t know what’s wrong.

“I guess I don’t want him to adopt me because he feels obligated,” Tim says.  “He has a family.  There’s–It’s a long story, too long to explain now.  Sorry, this is a weird first impression, huh? But enough about me!  What about you?  Where were you before Luthor found you?”

“Uh,” Connor says, still recovering from the whiplash of topics and searching for Luthor’s cover story.  “Kansas.”

“Kansas?” Tim prompts.

“Yeah, Kansas. I was in the foster system for a while, then I got adopted by this nice old couple who live on a farm in Smallville, which is just as small as it sounds.  I didn’t know anything about my birth parents until Lex showed up.”

“Wow,” Tim says.  “This has to be a big adjustment, then.”

Connor scratches the back of his neck.

“Yeah, kinda.”

Kon’s whole life feels like a big adjustment, from adjusting to existing and Clark’s negative feelings towards him, to adjusting to working for Camdus and living in Hawaii, to adjusting to Young Justice and Teen Titans, to finally trying to adjust to Smallville, only to be ripped away from that and forced into Metropolis high society.

“Do you miss them?” Tim asks.  “The old couple who adopted you?”

Kon swallows against the unexpected pang that rolls through him.  He can almost taste Martha’s pancakes on his tongue and hear the crinkle of the newspaper as Jonathan hands him the cartoons.

“I wasn’t with them very long.  Only a few months.”

Tim tilts his head.

“That doesn’t answer the question.”

Connor shrugs.  He doesn’t know what the right answer is here.  Martha and Jonathan are the closest thing he’s ever had to parents, but part of him never expected to stay with them.  When Luthor ripped him away from them, there was a part of Kon that wasn’t surprised at all, even if a bigger part was in agony.

Martha kissed his forehead when he left the farm and gave him a sad smile.

“You can always come back here, okay?  This is your home, no matter what Lex Luthor has to say about it.”

“If they formally adopted you, Lex Luthor’s claim as your biological father isn’t enough to force cut contact,” Tim says, pushing off the railing and taking a few steps closer.  “Trust me.  I researched this stuff when my dad came out of his coma.”

Kon frowns.

“He didn’t like Bruce?”

Tim wavers.

“It’s complicated,” he offers.  Kon snorts.

“Yeah, I get that.”

Tim’s mouth quirks up, giving Connor the shadow of a smile again.

“It’s not really a first meeting story.”

“Guess we need a second meeting, then,” Connor says.

“Yeah?” Tim asks.  “My weird family dynamic really captivated you, huh?”

“It was your eyes first, actually,” Connor says.  Tim opens his mouth, then closes it again, eyes wide.  Kon holds his breath.  He says flirty things all the time, both to his friends and to people he rescues who seem like they need a pick-me-up, but it’s been a while since he sincerely flirted with someone he plans to see again.  He almost never does it with someone who only knows him as Connor rather than Superboy, much less a boy.

If this goes badly and Tim tells the entire Metropolis elite that Lex’s son is a homosexual, maybe the scandal will be enough for Luthor to send him back to Smallville.  If it goes well…

“You have… very nice eyes, too,” Tim says eventually.  Connor beams, then beams even more at the sharp inhale Tim draws in response.  Tim shifts.

“Hey, do you want to get out of here?” he asks.  “There’s a decent ice cream place open late a few blocks away.  We can be there and back before anyone misses us.”

Connor glances towards Luthor in the ballroom.  He’s still talking to Bruce Wayne, and they’ve amassed a small crowd around them.

“Bruce will keep Lex busy for a while.  He likes to talk.  Besides, you can always tell him that you were networking,” Tim offers.

Luthor said that Tim should be his focus for the rest of the night.  He never said that they had to stay at the gala.

“Lead the way,” he says, gesturing grandly towards the French doors.  Tim blinks once, then again, then smiles.  His eyes light up with it, and Kon suddenly understands why Tim had to inhale before.

“Come on,” Tim says, leading the way.  Kon follows just as closely as he did before, trailing him until they spill out into the Metropolis night and he can stand next to him, almost close enough for their arms to brush.

Maybe living with Lex Luthor won’t be so bad if comes with seeing Tim Drake, too.

[milex27]

guys did you know the japanese technique to repay with gold is called kintsugi?

in japan it's not only a form of art, it's a philosophy: we do not need to hide or uproot our pain, we need to value and grow from it. for japanese people, wounds (internal or external) are no reason to be ashamed, they tell our story. they think that from something "imperfect", something even more unique and perfect can be born.

well, this is brocedes story, these are brocedes' wounds.

[homestuckreplay]

I Hope We Find Each Other In All Lifetimes (For Crime)

(page 1774-1788)

exiles update! exiles update! I am so incredibly excited to be continuing PM’s story and getting to know the Courtyard Droll, especially after catching a glimpse of the lab where the agents are engineered, which totally changes my understanding of them.

First, John puts on the Junior Ectobiologist’s Lab Suit, which not only perfectly fits him but even has his Green Slime Ghost shirt symbol on its belt. Months ago from John’s perspective, gallowsCalibrator called him ‘4 TOT4L D1SGR4C3 TO TH3 F13LD OF 3CTOB1OLOGY’ (p.1528), so clearly she saw him in this lab, wearing this suit, practicing this science. This caused John to change his username to ectoBiologist, and to start thinking of himself in these terms, like his ‘fondness for PARANORMAL LORE’ (p.4), which then makes him ready to put on the suit. That’s a neat closed loop, but there is a bigger destiny at play here which has yet to be revealed – John has been into Ghostbusters and the green slime ghost since before this conversation, and Skaia has set up this suit for John as part of his Sburb playthrough.

John also sees his first Sburb house terminal, which is just like those in WV and PM’s bunker. The narrative text here gives a quick switch from John’s perspective to an omniscient perspective:

NOW WHAT IN THE HELL IS GOING ON IN HERE??? Of course it's obvious what's going on in here. It's another one of those four monitored house-shaped terminal thingies. (p.1776)

This is interesting to me because of what I’ve read about Hussie’s writing process. They’ve talked on Formspring about sticking to specific rules when it comes to character voice in pesterlogs, and I think the same is true of information – John in chatlogs often reminds us that he’s clueless about things that are already well known to the reader. The narrative text is more complicated. I cannot find this again which means it probably came from a forum, but somewhere Hussie said that Jade’s ‘oh fuck!!!!!!’ after uprooting Dave’s toilet (p.1406) was because of an earlier ‘fuck’ in the narrative text of a Jade page – likely ‘FROZEN FUCKING TUNDRA’ (p.810) – which some readers saw as ‘out of character’ for Jade.

I think that equating ‘fun, happy character’ to ‘doesn’t say fuck’ is a weird assumption for those readers to make, but that aside, I guess it’s unclear how intentional the character voice and perspective in narrative text is. Hussie has also said on Formspring that they have no formal writing training, so a lot of what they do is instinctive and just comes from reading other stories. I don’t know how much they’re aware of the formal techniques they use throughout the Homestuck narration – focalization and free indirect style – but these sudden shifts into and out of a character’s mind are jarring, but in a way that still works for me. (I am inventing a strawman in my mind of an old literary professor who hates it though).

Skaia’s agents being genetically engineered through ectobiology honestly explains a lot for me. Despite the uniform, factory-produced design of (for example) the imps, everything in the Incipisphere is a sentient being who breathes, eats, has some equivalent of flesh, is prone to random emotional changes via the imperfections of the brain, etc, more than a computer-generated construct as I’ve previously looked at them. I think it is MUCH harder to control a truly sentient creature, especially their minds – and while we’ve seen Skaia implant thoughts into people’s minds often, there’s no evidence that it can read minds. Real people are affected dramatically by the people surrounding us, and have complex relationships to power, authority and hierarchy.

So viewing the agents as people it makes perfect sense that a Parcel Mistress or a Jack Noir would behave somewhat differently after spending time with a different player group, and will in all sessions be navigating their own relationship to Skaia and to each other. I also think that each agent contains a tiny part of Skaia’s own power, as they were created by it, which makes it possible for these agents to both imagine and create a life outside of what’s been programmed for them. I am still uncertain how Skaia feels about its agents breaking out of their predefined roles and exerting this agency: does it actively want this as it contributes to the customized experience of each session, does it passively tolerate this to the extent that it doesn’t threaten Skaia’s power, or is it trying and failing to stop this happening?

All of that to say, it’s cool that AR takes a moment away from The Law to do some sick rocketboard tricks. It’s not a dramatic change in mindset for him, just a moment where he breaks his own rules because nobody is looking and it’s fun.

Then, PM gets on a shuttle – some old fashioned transport in a universe of spirograph gates, rockets and transportalizers. Maybe it’s not possible to transportalize directly to Skaia, and it has to be reached via ‘old fashioned’ means. If I was a Sburb exile my fixation would be public transport; I would be constructing buses, trains and trams all over the desert wasteland. Anyway you can tell this is PM’s first rodeo going on a super secret triple agent mission because the dark regisword is just hanging out the top of her mailbag, super obvious, and the queen’s ring is just in her pocket ripe for the picking. PM is my favorite forever but she did fuck up with this one, especially since the queen was so clear that ‘the RING must be designated for protection’ (p.1619).

The Courtyard Droll is probably taking this ring back to Jack – the Sovereign Slayer – so that nobody can rise against him as an equal power. But, will he wear this ring too? What happens if somebody wears both the white and black queens’ rings? Do they have a combined effect? Do they actually cancel each other out? Can the white ring even be worn by a black chess piece, or would it not affect them at all?

CD appears via a slow zoom – first the tip of his hat, then the rest of his hat, then his head, and finally his outfit with the club symbol (p.1781-4). It surprises me that this is a sequence of still images when similar moments have been gifs, from Dad’s car falling into the abyss (p.291) to John’s near-loss and then rescue of the Con Air bunny (p.1599). As I see it, there’s two big differences in these techniques. First, a gif only adds one to the page count, so is good for a fast-paced story or one the author is trying to keep short, while a series of still images adds multiple pages, good when an author is trying to add length or make a moment take up ‘more’ of the story. Second, a gif happens to the reader in a defined length of time, limiting the amount of suspense possible. I was genuinely scared John was going to lose that bunny, but only for a few seconds until the gif showed me the bunny’s rescue. A series of still images is reader-controlled. We choose when to go from one to the next, so if we’re intended to speculate on whose hat this might be, we have infinite time to actively speculate before tabbing to the next page, even though the pages were posted together.

But unquestionably the most exciting development here (to me) is the reformation of the Midnight Crew. We’ve now seen all four of these agents separately, with the corresponding suit on their uniforms – Jack Noir (p.952), who later became the Sovereign Slayer (p.1668), the Hegemonic Brute (p.957), the Draconian Dignitary (p.1532), and the Courtyard Droll (p.1784). I think we can assume that except for SS, the Intermission MC had these same jobs before being exiled, as it gives them the same initials duality as this session’s exiles. So, a quick rundown of the names:

Sovereign Slayer – The violent killer of a monarch. Spades Slick wanted to do this just as badly, but wasn’t able to (p.1266)

Hegemonic Brute – A violent, unintelligent person who upholds the dominant class or ideology. Perfect for the muscle of the group who follows orders from above.

Draconian Dignitary – A cruel, unnecessarily severe person of high societal station. Works well since he’s always seemed like the most calculating member of the group, and like SS’ number two.

Courtyard Droll – A fool or jester who performs in the outdoor space of a castle. A ‘court jester’ is an entertainer at a royal court, and is definitely being evokes here. Basically, a silly guy who people like. (possibly notable that we meet him on Prospit, a brighter, happier place, after meeting the other three on Derse).

I do find it beautiful that the Midnight Crew came together in this universe too, and fell into the same gang structure with the same heist goals. So often in fiction, soulmates who come together over and over despite not knowing or remembering their past relationship is reserved for romantic partners, and seeing it happen for a gang of criminals is a cool subversion. This walkie-talkie conversation is exactly like the ones in the Intermission, and the agents appear to have the same personalities as their Midnight Crew counterparts. Especially the Courtyard Droll, whose admission that he’d ‘still rather wear the outfit’ (p.1788) is just like Clubs Deuce’s believe that ‘all of these clocks are lovely’ (p.1180). Absolute king of being whimsical and not bowing to the aesthetic preferences of his friends.

[doodoodinklefart]

back for another jjk yap sess, this time abt geto LOL...

im honestly a little surprised i never noticed this before but the way that geto (who thought that his best friend was killed and saw a girl he was essentially willing to uproot his life for get murdered right in front of him) tries SOO hard to stay calm while toji's talking and then the MOMENT he brings satoru up again and trivializes riko's death, suguru loses it. i'm thinking suguru let him talk in the first place despite the risk of letting toji reveal his pact (and wanting to kill him Very Bad) cuz he figured it would be better to understand toji's deal since he beat satoru, something that suguru trusted would not happen

but then he starts referring to satoru strictly as "the six eyes", and i think that suguru, one of the few people that saw satoru as a person beyond his cursed technique or his family name could not help but get super pissed abt toji's dehumanization of satoru (and riko too, who he only refers to as the star plasma vessel). i just thought that it was very interesting....... suguru cared so much and it makes me CRAZY AS FUCK.

like, to begin with i think its sooo so interesting that suguru made it a point to be considerate of all the human parts of satoru despite the fact that im sure most other people assume he doesn't need to be worried about. i'll never stop thinking about suguru asking if he needs a break since he's overusing his technique, telling him he worked hard after getting back to the school, trying to rush to his side after he's been stabbed and being conflicted when satoru tells him to leave with riko and kuroi... he didn't just assume satoru could handle all that shit on his own cuz even if he could have he shouldn't have to.

also related omg im almost done i promise but!! the scene where suguru gets to the star religious group and sees satoru again for the first time...

the way that he can't even believe his eyes, probably in part because he's acting way different but also because he thought he FUCKING DIED. and he had to drag himself out of the tomb of the stars and probably went to look for gojo's body before even going to shoko. and then he had to tell her he couldn't even find his body man WHAT THE FUCK!!! i think maybe saw a twitter post about this part in particular but he might have thought toji took riko's body and satoru's, so the thought that he went all the way there thinking he'd have to see two dead bodies of people he cared about... ugh. suguru geto i love you

[sifu-kisu]

Cutting Down Trees, Uprooting Roots, and Destroying Roots

Cutting Down Trees: This involves using a power chain and striking force, relying on dynamic acceleration.

Uprooting Roots: This uses lever and centrifugal forces, extending the lever to perform work.

Destroying Roots: This relies on stick, Jam, and centripetal forces, emphasizing close-range power exertion.

Most practical combat begins with power chain strikes, such as long-range kicks, close-range strikes, elbows, and knees in offense and defense. All martial arts schools emphasize such training, so we compare it to cutting down trees. Close combat, such as throwing, falling, and Qin Na, are body contact techniques categorized as uprooting and destroying roots. Many Kung Fu schools neglect these techniques, making them weak points in close-quarters combat.

Throwing is considered uprooting roots while falling is seen as destroying roots. I participated in the wrestling team at Taiwan’s Chien Guo High School for three years, where our coach was Chang Dongsheng. In the last century, Master Chang became famous for his unmatched wrestling skills with Baoding Quick Wrestling, earning him the nickname “Wrestling King.” Based on my understanding of wrestling, I’ll use Baoding wrestling as an example to briefly explain the characteristics of uprooting roots:

1. Quick Wrestling wins with fast and varied footwork, like a butterfly flitting about, making it difficult for opponents to cope. Grandmaster Chang was known for his "Butterfly" style.

2. When an opponent attacks, one can often use strength to guide them to the ground and use the reaction force to create deceptive techniques (also known as "dark hands" or "black hands").

3. When adjusting the angle of the opponent's resistance point to become a fulcrum, one can find a better point of application to form a lever and throw the opponent.

4. The lever should be long, and one’s body needs to control a large area of the opponent.

5. Use lightning-fast acceleration to trip the opponent and achieve the full effect.

Throwing techniques differ significantly from falling techniques. Throws often use centrifugal force, whereas falls rely on centripetal force. Throwing is like throwing a stone from a catapult while falling like stirring water into a whirlpool.

Falling techniques are centered around the spine and core muscles. By using active footwork to get close to the opponent and applying close-contact techniques like Baji Quan or Bagua Zhang, you direct the energy into the ground to destroy the opponent’s root. A famous anecdote about Great Master Li Shu Wen is that he practiced Sticking -Jamming against trees, eventually causing several trees to wither, so Grand Master Liu Yun Chiao referred to this type of force as "destroying roots."

Additionally, throwing techniques involve large, powerful movements, often using grips or breaking grips to control the opponent and make them lose balance. Falling techniques involve smaller, faster movements, usually starting with a power chain, then using close contact rolling to disrupt the opponent’s energy field and center of gravity, ensuring they cannot get up after falling, which is the true meaning of “destroying roots.”

In my lifetime, I have had the fortune of experiencing the throwing and falling techniques of Master Liu and Master Chang. When asked about their differences, I would say that Master Chang’s techniques felt direct, fast, and authoritative, while Master Liu’s techniques were enigmatic, smooth, and encompassing the earth. The former leans more towards uprooting roots, while the latter focuses more on destroying roots. I cannot describe it further in words; it’s like "drinking water—only you know if it’s cold or warm."

Both throwing and falling techniques are inseparable from Qin Na. The true meaning of Qin Na is not just joint locks, as commonly believed. The Chinese term "擒拿" (Qin Na) is two characters. “擒” means trying to catch a bird (chicken) with hands, and "拿" means to grasp firmly with both hands. Trying to catch a chicken is much more complex than simple grabbing. It includes techniques like separating tendons, misaligning bones, blocking energy flow in the body, cutting energy meridian along the limb, and pressure point strikes. Our book, Qin Na: Taking Control of Energy, co-authored with Arthur Schonfeld, provides a detailed explanation of Qinna techniques, accompanied by a DVD for demonstration and explanation.

Qin Na skills are not limited to standing techniques; ground techniques like Shaolin Di Gong (ground wrestling) and Dog Fist differ from the jiu-jitsu developed on mats and are suitable for street fights. With BJJ’s rise in popularity today, martial arts practitioners should study traditional ground techniques for emergencies.

Chinese traditional martial arts are diverse, encompassing long-range kicks, close-range strikes, Falling, Wrestling, and Qin Na techniques. This article merely highlights the comprehensive nature of conventional martial arts; whether one dedicates a long time to diligent practice depends on personal willingness.

伐樹，拔根，摧根

伐樹－動力鏈，打擊力，依靠動力加速度。

拔根－槓桿力，離心力。加長槓桿做功。

摧根－丹田力，向心力。強調貼靠發勁。

大部分的實戰是從動力鏈打擊開始：那就是遠踢，近打加肘膝等攻防技法。所有門派都重視這類訓練我無需多說，在此我們將它比做伐樹。而貼身摔跌加擒拿則歸類為拔根與摧根，往往是許多門派忽略的技法而成為零距離作戰時的弱點。

貼身的摔法是拔根而貼身的跌法為摧根。

我高中時參加台灣建國中學的摔角隊三年，當時我們的指導老師是常東昇。上個世紀常師以保定快跤摔遍全國無敵手成為家喻戶曉的摔跤王。基於對摔跤有某程度的了解，在此我以保定跤為例，簡單地說明拔根的特色：

1。快跤以快速及多變化的活步取勝，如穿花蛺蝶般地, 使對手無從應付。常師當年就有花蝴蝶的稱號。

2、 敌手来時舍己從人、 往往將来力傳於地。再利用上傳的反作用力，形成聲東擊西的暗手(或稱為黑手)。

3、 我將敌來手的抗力點稍轉角度成为我的支點。此时我慿感觉另找个最佳的施力點、形成槓杆將对方摔倒。

4. 槓桿要長， 我的身體控制對方的面積要大。

5、 要用迅雷不及掩耳的加速度施絆子以竟全功。

跌法與摔法迥然不同， 摔多為離心力而跌則以向心力為主。摔似拋石，跌如漩渦。

跌法是以背脊與核心肌群為中心，由活步領身挨近敵人，再以如八極拳似的貼靠或八卦掌般的纏卷將此勁道導入地下，以摧敵之根。祖師李書文有個為人津津樂道的武林軼事：他常以貼靠樹木來練功， 竟然將多株樹靠到枯死， 這是劉雲樵師爺稱此種勁為“摧根”的由來。

此外，摔法的拔根動作大而威力強，多以抓把或破把來控制對方使其失去平衡， 跌法的摧根動作小，速度快，常從動力鏈開始，再以貼靠卷纏破壞對方氣場與重心，使對手倒地後無法起身， 那就是摧根的真正意義。

此生有幸曾領略過劉師與常師兩位大師的摔跌功力。 曾有人問到他倆的不同處。我的回答是被常師摔時，我可以很清楚的感覺他的勁道的冷脆，快速而霸氣凌人， 而劉師的則是莫測，圓滾又渾厚包容。前者拔根多於摧根，後者則摧根多過拔根。我無法以文字作更進一步描述。只能說 “如人飲水，冷暖自知”.

不論摔法或跌法都離不開擒拿，擒拿真正的含義不是一般人認為的反關節， 中文擒拿的“擒”是以手捉禽鳥(雞), “拿”是合手, 即以兩手將之抓牢。其實擒比拿要複雜的多， 所以傳統擒拿包括： 分筋，錯骨， 閉氣，截脈， 點穴。我與學生Arthur Schonfeld. 共同著作的各類武術裡有 Qin Na：Taking Control of Energ一書對擒拿有詳細說明並附有光盤講解與示範。

中國的擒拿術不只是站立技，還有地面技如地躺門，狗拳等，與墊上發展的柔術不同，是適合街鬥的武術。當今BJJ 大行其道，功夫武者有必要研究傳統的地面技，以備不時之需。

中囯傳統武術琳瑯滿目， 但都脫離不了遠踢，近打，貼靠, 摔跌加擒拿。 此文只說明了傳統武術的全方位性，至於是否要花長時間苦心修煉，那就看個人的意願了。

[its-adeucen]

The once powerful eccentric guild Fairy Tail reduced to a laughing stock in the loss of their most powerful wizards, within their small numbers stands their last Dragon slayer–once one of four has now been reduced to the last. Hands dripping with ink, destruction left in their wake, uprooted trees and craters litter the ground. Scattered around sparsely, the bodies of bandits unconscious lay covered in ink.

“Ink Dragons Roar!” Inhaling deeply, your hands curl into a fist like shape–holding them up to your mouth, as if you were holding a flute–you inhale deeply before shooting out a bullet like wave of ink towards your opponent. The black coloured magic circle glowing brightly in front of you, and you watch as the bandit flies backwards.

Sighing, you throw yourselves backwards, splaying out on the cold grass beneath you. “Man, the reward for this won’t even make a dent in the guild rent…” Gazing up at the starry sky, you bit your lip before covering your eyes with your arm.

What am I supposed to do…The loss of your fellow guildmates hit you hard, there was no way your guild could keep afloat–that became obvious after the first few years–and after a while, people started to disappear. Guild members who used to ruffle your hair, give you tips on your technique, who would laugh and let you sit in while they played cards, who answered your nonsense questions. People you grew up around, started to leave. By the time you turned thirteen, your once renowned guild hall was reduced to a farmhouse and your family was barely keeping it together. Four years and still no sight of your lost members, you began to take on more and more—more jobs, more house work around the guild, more responsibility—three years later you stand as one of the guild top earners and it’s still not enough.

“Maybe if I pick up a few more odd jobs on my way back…” in the distance, you hear the sound of hooves hitting the ground and the rattling of carriage—the thought of a carriage, leaving you nauseous—groaning you resign yourself to getting up and cleaning the road before some angry merchant gets out and yells at you about road blockage. Just as you start to sit up, you are hit with a sudden feeling of vertigo, your vision starts to go black as you lose consciousness, back hitting the ground.

• You wake up in the coffin confused before resigning yourself to waiting, used to the ridiculous ‘adventures’ that come with being a Fairy Tail member, hoping that it would just be some Dark guild that you’d be able to pummel to the ground before going on your way–maybe grab a snack on your way back to the guild.

• Standing in a library at odds with a talking cat–not an eleceed at that–spitting fire at you, you know that your hope to just fight your way out of this and call it a day has been pulled right out of your hands and thrown into a blazing fire. Especially after some random crow man whips the cat up.

[ The nature of this one's soul is…how curious it appears as if there are two souls, one a childish offspring of the other. A roaring dragon and its child… fit for so many dorms, and yet, non at all–it would seem that this soul already belongs to another group there for, they are fit for No Dorm! ]

• Dorm? Soul? Did that mirror just call you childish?? Oh wait, the cats setting everything on fire. Watching as (nearly) everyone around you begins to run around like headless chickens, you step forward ready to cast a spell and take care of the cat before you find yourselves stumbling backwards–you haven’t eaten anything to replenish your magic yet.

• Soon enough the cats dealt with by a red head and a guy that smells strongly of seafood, everyone’s getting sent off, the bird man’s going to help you get back and what do you mean “What's Fiore!?!!??” You panic, pulling down the collar of the robe you’re wearing, showing your guild mark proudly displayed on the side of your neck only to be met with confusion.

Is this another world?? Is this another Edolas situation?? What am I gonna do?? Is there any way back??

• Later, when you’re lying on an old dusty bed with a flaming cat asleep by your head, in an old abandoned building that is infested with ghosts of all things, your heart skips a beat as you stare up at the crumbling ceiling. THE REWARD MONEY—

• The next morning, you’re presented with a dress shirt and some slacks—no blazer, on account of you being a janitor—and the bird man dodges any questions of pay or food before pushing you out of the house and onto the streets (more like walkways, really) of the school.

• Cleaning up was never your strong suit, considering the role models you had growing up, you’d even consider it the opposite of a strong suit. A Fairy Tail member cleaning up? as if.

• So when the flaming cat—Grim—torches the statue of some queen lady after being egged on by a random ginger, suddenly all feels right in the world.

• It feels even more right when you and your ragtag group of…whatever you all are, destroy an expensive chandler!

“What’s your name again? Juice or something??”

• Making it to the mines, you pick up Grim and begin to flail him around like a torch as you search for the Magic stone. Ace and Deuce bicker behind you and you feel a twinge of nostalgia hit you as you think back to Natsu and Grey.

• All this reminding is tossed aside in favour of running away from a giant monster in the mines, hurling attacks at you and the boys. There’s shouting and yelling before you stand your ground, instructing the boys and Grim to fight the monster.

• It’s only when you’re out of the mines and onto a field of grass, the monster's glass head shattered into a million pieces, the grass burnt, you notice the ink staining the ground. Bending down to dip a finger in it, you cautiously flick it with your tongue before your eyes widen.

What was that thing?

• You and Grim are enrolled into the school as one student—due to your ‘lack of magic’—and you are actually given a blazer, still no vest though, and a striped ribbon to use like an arm band. Grim looks at it and cackles, pointing towards his neck; “Look! We match, Henchmen!”

• Ace nudges at you with his elbow, jokingly calls you Prefect, before saying goodbye and heading off with Deuce. You smile as you wave the two off, finding the new friendship exciting.

• It’s less exciting when you throw your front door open at, way too early in the morning o’clock, to find Ace in his pyjamas, collar around his neck and a bag slung over his shoulder like a kid who’s just run away from home after a fight with his parents.

“Ace, why are you here at…whatever time it is.”

• School sucks, and Dormhead’s seem to suck even more seeing as thanks to Ace's rude interruption you weren’t able to sleep any longer. Sitting still was always, hard, not being able to move was like torture. Not being able to move while being forced to learn things was even worse.

• You barely managed to learn how to read from Erza, and that was traumatizing—you did not come out unscathed.

• Lunch is a godsend, finally some food—you barely managed to keep yourself from stealing and dismantling Deuces pen just for a quick little snack the class before. This too is horribly interrupted by another ginger as well as some green haired guy with glasses, giving you a run down on the school dorm.

• You tone it all out until you're shocked out of your thoughts by a shrill shout of,

“And You! Fix your shirt collar, and wear a tie that is horribly out of uniform—is, is that a tattoo!?”

• “Oh, I never noticed before…” Deuce mutters from your side, leaning in closer. “No way prefect, where’d you get someone willing to tattoo you so young?!” Ace also leans in, collar shining under the light.

• “I wanna know too, come on why don’t you tell upper class man Cay-Cay, I promise not to tell!” Ginger number two makes a motion to fake zip up his mouth as he stares at your neck. “I’m more curious as to what the tattoo means.” Glasses smiles at you, but he also leans in to look.

• Looking away as all the eyes stare at your neck, you place your hand over it to cover your guild mark as you laugh—trying to change the subject—before Redhead shouts something about tea and the subject it dropped completely.

• The week breezes by quickly, and before you know it, you’ve made some tarts, pissed off some guy with lion ears and a tail, got yelled at about said tarts, learned all about some magic history, alchemy and Redheads traumatic backstory.

• Finally, you stand and watch as Ace and Deuce try—and fail—to beat their Dormhead.

• And then you feel it.

Your heart jumps a beat, and the hairs on your neck stand up—the air changes, turns sharper as the feeling of bloodlust and anger fills the air. Your ears are ringing as you watch the Redhead warp and change, ink clinging onto his small form and a familiar bottle headed monster emerges up from behind him—people behind you gasp and run—you feel the Birdman grab your shoulder and shake you warning you to run as the monster behind the Dormhead lets out a roar before sending a wave of ink towards Ace.

“Prefect wait!—” There’s a shout behind you as you wrench yourself from the Headmaster's grip, throwing your body infront of Ace, taking the attack head on.

“No way…” Ace gapes from behind you, the attack disappearing, having been eaten by you. Licking your lips, you smile as you stare down Redhead, high on adrenaline—excitement rolls off you in waves—inhaling deeply, you go through the familiar motions of curling your hands into near fists.

“What are you doing!? Get out of there! You don’t have any magic—”

“Ink dragon…” The words leave your mouth easily, you plant your feet firmly on the ground as you lean back every so slightly before lurching forwards—a magic circle appearing in front of you. Magicless my ass.

Your lips curl into a smile as you shout out. “ROAR.”

I’m tired, and I picked this prompt from a wheel spinner—honestly, there were other options like KHR, KNY, Madoka, PJO and a few more on there so we’ll see if I ever go anywhere with those, maybe i’ll make another thing. (am open to suggestions for more ideas)

Originally, ‘Yuu’ was going to use Maker magic, like ‘Ice Make’ and the such but the idea of a cat companion was way funnier so dragon slayer it is! This isn’t proof read or anything so 🤷

ALSO i haven’t watched fairy tail since around the like, seventh grade and it’s been forever since I’ve seen the prologue of Twst

[xsatoru]

When Lightning Strikes...

Welcome to the introduction and masterlist for When Lightning Strikes…

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x fem!reader

Genres: JJK almost canon-compliant manga!universe, Canon-typical violence, Character death(s), Childhood haters to lovers!au, Slow burn!au, Angst, Fluff, Future smut (minors dni!), more to come…

Warnings: Listed per each chapter

Word Count: TBD (see below)

All you ever wanted as a young child was to be a strong, well-respected sorcerer. Standing one day shoulder-to-shoulder as the leading family representative with others worthy to serve as pillars meant to support and maintain balance in the jujutsu world. But being born as a woman in a conservative, patriarchal society still stubbornly stuck in its outdated ways makes that simple goal seem damn near impossible. It especially doesn't help to live in the same timeline as Satoru Gojo, modern-day's mightiest of them all. The legendary Six Eyes wielder just so happens to be a fellow classmate, friends with a friend's friend, and the bane of your entire existence. But similar to your cursed technique, when unpredictable lightning strikes, every pivotal moment that's sure to follow could uproot the very structure of a world that desperately needs changed. Your fate continuously seems to intertwine with Satoru, whose life goal may not be so different from yours.

This series plans to cover 8 main parts, an 18+ epilogue, and an additional bonus at the end. Warnings will be listed with each chapter that's posted. The last main chapter will probably feature smut and as this account is already considered 18+, minors please do not interact! Finally, the plot follows the canon manga (with a few deviations) until it suddenly doesn't for obvious reasons, but please beware of some major spoilers!!

Please subscribe on ao3 or asked to be tagged on tumblr for chapter installments. I will post on tumblr and update the section below with progress reports since some things are subject to change during writing. Thank you Tiff (@fuckvernon) for the vibe check 💖 Reblogs appreciated!

Updates: As of January 2, 2024 — currently writing Chapter 5

Current word count: ~20k+

Chapter 1 — Chaos is Likely to Ensue

It's 2004. You are a first-year at the Tokyo branch of Jujutsu High. So is Satoru Gojo, the bane of your existence. You hate each other's guts, so the only reason you'd ever kiss one another would be in an alternate universe, right?

Chapter 2 — Heartbeats Race a Little Faster

A return to Jujutsu High for Winter Break somehow also means celebrating the strongest sorcerer's 19th birthday. As the #1 Satoru Gojo hater, you have to be there, of course — if only to stir up some good old chaos!

Chapter 3 — Eyes Linger on the Afterimage Before It Fades

Nearly 10 years after meeting Satoru Gojo as a first-year, you're still stuck dealing with him existing somewhere in your vicinity. But college is ending, you're going back… home, and real life is just beginning. Things couldn't be any better when it's the calm before the storm.

Chapter 4 — Fractal Scars Sear Into Tender Flesh

December 24, 2017. A date jujutsu society will forever remember as the Night Parade of a Hundred Demons — a cursed terrorist attack on the cities of Kyoto and Shinjuku. Its orchestrator, a face much too familiar for comfort, dreams of a perfect reality without non-sorcerers and curses.

Chapter 5 — Thunder Follows With a Quiet Rumble

The aftermath of the attack results in employment at the school you once attended. Under the guise of needing a teacher for future third-years, Masamichi Yaga offers a deal to protect you from the Higher-Ups. The mastermind behind it all is none other than the bane of your existence and you must unwillingly put up with him, the ghosts of your past, and those you left behind.

Chapter 6 — The Sky Weeps in Her Torrential Mourning

On October 31, 2018 at 9:26 pm in Shibuya — Satoru Gojo is sealed. Losing the world's strongest sorcerer becomes instantly noticeable and lowers morale, especially when those dear to you fall one by one.

Chapter 7 — A Phoenix Rises From the Ashes

"They've revoked Yuji Itadori's death sentence and appointed me as his immediate executioner." As if things couldn't get any worse after Satoru Gojo's exiled and the removal of his seal is now considered a criminal act, the death penalty executed by a special grade is coming for anyone associated with the most powerful sorcerer in 400 years.

Chapter 8 — The World Pauses to Watch, Holds Its Breath, and Counts

No one ever told you a lethal battle royale is all it would take to come to terms with your family ties and cursed technique. After trusting the students in the Culling Games, it's your turn to step up and face the strongest jujutsu sorcerer from a thousand years ago. Armed with newfound confidence, can you succeed before he annihilates his competition?

Chapter 9 — A Ceraunophile is Born (Epilogue with 18+ Content)

Ceraunophile (n): a person who loves lightning and thunder, a lover of thunderstorms.

Chapter 10 — Bonus Content

Tidbits I can't fit into the main story line that mostly provide more insight into Satoru's point of view.

xsatoru: January 2024 ©

[bestworstcase]

are you willing to share the details on tdt! zhan tiri

behold my incomprehensible diagram!

um. after v9 i lost all sense of restraint, on the grounds that the blacksmith is an aspect of the tree and therefore the tree reasonably might have other aspects, and then there were four, and then there were twelve. lmao. (the artisan is the blacksmith—she’s depicted as a wood carver and lewis called her ‘the lively carpenter,’ so i figured she’d give herself a more nonspecific name.)

because i am also shaking heraclitus between my teeth like a terrier with a rat, Only One ever exists at a time; the tree is always becoming itself and its aspects shift and flow and transform into each other. in various directions and by varied means. ANYWAY,

those quartets (was/is/will-be) are not temporal categories but rather (copying straight from my lore notes here):

Presiding over forethought and remembrance, the Was concerns itself with what may be known: prophesy before, and memory after, for Time is the circle which remembers itself. It would be a mistake to say that the Is presides over, because the Is does not rule; but it might preside at the choosings, the turnings, the changings, and so the Is circumnavigates the Soul. Some things do not change—some things can never be changed—and over what is unchanging and unchangeable, the Will-Be presides: over strife, over hunger, over graspings, over flux.

was is about the flow of time and knowledge, is concerns action and choice, and will-be are manifestations of inevitability—things that Always Are. if you are uh. familiar with bitter snow zhan tiri i’m sure you can guess where she Goes…

The Reaper, called the Sitient Thorn and the Black Vulture and the Flower-Maker and the Goat-With-One-Thousand-Teeth and the Lady-of-Wilds and the King-of-Beasts—for she has been known by many names in many places—appears however she pleases, and it pleases her to change. Her fur and feathers are oil-dark; she crowns herself with the coal-black horns of a ram; her eyes glitter green; she reeks of vegetable rot and brine. Her true name, if she has one, might be the Wrathful Sky. All things want. Her season is Spring.

she is—as in bitter snow lmao—a little unusual in that she’s not a quote-unquote true aspect of the tree but rather something hungry that came from somewhere else, from the dark country which is nowhere. it is ESSENTIAL FOR HER CHARACTER that she’s a strangler fig. always. so she is kind of a quasi-parasitic trespasser into this Situation but also, in the same way that real stranglers protect their living host trees from being uprooted by storms, not an adversarial one necessarily.

what that means in practical terms is the reaper is the exception to a lot of the, for lack of a better word, “rules” that define the tree’s nature. in her aspect as an aspect of the tree, she takes on its nature; when she isn’t manifest within the tree, though, she exists outside and independent of it. so she can, for example, go for walkies in the backyard

by which i mean remnant. lmao

on remnant, the reaper is the god of animals. she didn’t make the fauni but once they came to be she decided she liked them Best and has favored them ever since. many, but not all, fauni receive her blessing, which (like that of the brothers) confers a magical gift, specifically a form of shapeshifting.

NOT like what the branwens can do—more in the vein of ‘cultivating’ the animal-like traits you already have as a faunus, so if (for example) you were born with shark teeth you might learn to rearrange your respiratory anatomy and grow gills, or give yourself sharklike skin. this can be done in a way that is permanent (this is called ‘ripening’) or not (‘borrowing’). most fauni who learn mix and match a bit (and there are different formal ‘paths’ that combine techniques in different proportions and intensities).

the gift itself is called khime and the practice is khimancy; humans often misunderstand khimancy as sort of a fauni tradition combining auralerie and konurgy (dust-magic) into a single art, but that is. um. Wrong.

(it is possible for master khimancers to fully turn themselves into an animal, but it takes a lot of dedication and many years of training to get there. the ones who get there are called turnskins and they’re rare, like on the level of silver-eyes rare.)

anyway the Reason not every fauni in the world receives khime is she only gives it to the ones who ask. asking is Really Simple—just a small ritual to get her attention, though the specifics vary a lot between different sects—and in many fauni cultures it’s seen as a rite of passage marking the end of one’s childhood. but because it’s a religious practice specific to khimerism, obviously not everyone Does It.

conversely, it isn’t Just For Fauni in the sense that a human could petition the reaper for her gift if they so chose, and she might say yes. for all intents and purposes this is Converting To Khimerism and under khimeric law makes you a faunus—although it won’t cause a physical alteration right away, there is a process for revealing your true form.

this is PRETTY RARE but not unheard of. there’s a handful of fauni folk heroes who are said to have been born human and either left in the wilderness as infants and being saved by fauni parents or outcast from human society and turning to the god of animals for solace; mythically speaking, the idea is that, just as the god of animals offered their gift to some humans who refused, perhaps there might be a very few humans whom they missed, or who weren’t born at the right time, and such people will find their own path to where they truly belong.

(IN CASE IT ISN’T OBVIOUS i’ve chosen to veer off the ‘racism allegory’ angle by leaning into the religious aspect of fauni identity; the narrative in ‘the shallow sea’ is essentially “we are our god’s chosen people and through this covenant we were changed” so—in the context of TDT where the god of animals and their shape-changing magic is real—if one chooses to convert and accept that covenant one can become a faunus. the reverse however isn’t true: one can leave the religion and relinquish the gift, but that doesn’t get rid of the fauni traits. nothing is erased, nothing forgotten.)

salem knows about her. (her opinion is chiefly “stop. trying. to eat. my. grimm.” they have tea sometimes it’s complicated.) ozpin thinks the god of animals is a myth, if a curiously persistent one. and the reaper is also like… at least half of remnant’s cryptids because when she’s out for walkies in the backyard most of the time she does it as a horrible mishmash Creature. when fauni characters say the Lady or the King they’re talking about her. she is both the Lady and the King because she doesn’t know what a gender is (and at this point she’s too afraid to ask) and she picks her pronouns on the basis of “i’ll have what my friend is having :)”

the god of light. HATES HER. she crawled in through the jabberwalker (no relation to the walker) (theophoric name) and latched onto the tree before the brothers could Get Rid of her and then made herself part of the tree Somehow!!! (you are what you eat) so now she just exists outside of his power.

(the brothers were both actually far more powerful than the tree when they left the ever after, because the tree is a passive force, it cannot act outside of itself, but the brothers had no power over the tree. so the reaper can’t overrule the god of light on his ultimatum—although she’d like to—but he can’t do anything to stop her from going for walkies. he just seethes impotently.)

[amelias-calamity-quintet]

Mark of a Hero's Arcs Reference List

This is a reference post for my fic series, Mark of a Hero, and its arcs for spoiler reference. Hopefully it helps folks if they see me talking about a certain section of the books, this is how it's broken down and how I'm determining how to mark spoilers.

Current Releasing: The Horned Goddess's Glade Arc

Current Writing: Book 5 - Arc 4

No Longer Marked Spoilers Through: The Horned Goddess's Temple Arc

Book 1 - Hyrule

Hyrule is at peace, or so the Royal Family would have its people believe. Something is afoot in the kingdom, and someone needs to do something about it. Least likely would be Marksmen Link Sayre- a mercenary and monster hunter doing his best to get by. Until a job goes wrong, and he gets roped into the secret plans of Hyrule's princess. Now Link must play the part of the Hero to dive deeper into the mystery, and maybe stumble into a legend of his own.

Introduction Arc - The Legend to Overworld Chapter 10 - It's A Secret to Everyone

Farore's Temple Arc - Overworld Chapter 11 - Final Affairs to Overworld Chapter 18 - The Lady's Reward

Nayru's Temple Arc - Overworld Chapter 19 - Shifting Focus to Overworld Chapter 31 - Check In

Din's Temple Arc - Overworld Chapter 32 - Threads - Overworld Chapter 44 - Firestorm

Hylia's Temple Arc - Overworld Chapter 45 - Letter of the Law - Dungeon Chapter 9 - Sealed

The Horned Goddess's Temple Arc - Overworld Chapter 54 - Uprooted - Overworld Chapter 66 - May the Road Be Ever Winding

Book 2 - Farona

A new champion draws the Master Sword, and the legend begins anew. But the door beneath the Temple of Time remains sealed, lest the Hero can open it once more. Link Sayre, Saddiqah El Amin, and Ambrose head west to Hyrule's forested neighbor, Farona, to seek out the first of the Sealing Stones. But perhaps their quest is not as secret as they'd like to believe.

Introduction Arc - Overworld Chapter 67 - Alward & Upward - The Master Sword - Second Technique

Farore's Glade Arc - Overworld Chapter 75 - Tag-along - Overworld Chapter 87 - So You Were Saying

Din's Glade Arc - Overworld Chapter 88 - Surprise - Overworld 101 - Until We Meet Again

The Horned Goddess's Glade Arc - Overworld Chapter 102 - In Search of Answers - ??? (Releasing chapters are here)

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Book 3 - ???

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Book 4 - ???

Introduction Arc - ??? - ???

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Book 5 - ???

Introduction Arc - ??? - ???

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Book 6 - ???

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Book 7 - ???

Introduction Arc - ??? - ???

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Book 8 - ???

Introduction Arc - ??? - ???

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Book 9 - ???

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Prequel - ???

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Mark of a Hero (Updates on Tuesdays & Fridays, 2 of 9)

Hyrule is at peace, or so the Royal Family would have its people believe. Something is afoot in the kingdom, and someone needs to do something about it. Least likely would be Marksmen Link Sayre- a mercenary and monster hunter doing his best to get by. Until a job goes wrong, and he gets roped into the secret plans of Hyrule's princess. Now Link must play the part of the Hero to dive deeper into the mystery, and maybe stumble into a legend of his own.