#anyway i got to be a corpse today so that was cool

[nobodybetterlookatme]

Would've posted the last update yesterday but I basically collapsed into bed the moment I got home, so y'all can have it now lmao. I managed to hold it together until around 9pm, at which point I'd been working for over 12 hours at that point, so I think I did pretty good. Supervisor hit us on the radio to tell us it looked like we wouldn't be done til past midnight, and we were supposed to be out of there by 10pm, so that was the last straw for me bc I just wanted to go home and I mumbled something about going to the bathroom so I could cry for a minute. Came back, apparently that was also the last straw for my partner who evidently knew literally the entire time bc dude fucking goes "so do you wanna talk or are we just gonna keep pretending you haven't been feeling like shit all day", I tried to downplay it, it didn't work obviously, he looked at me like 😒, you hate to see it. He wanted to make sure I wasn't actually gonna become a patient so he did a quick assessment, my vitals were ✨ abnormal ✨ which was fun. We didn't have to do much else work related the rest of the shift so it was nice to just vibe for a bit. Finally got to leave, partner didn't trust me to drive myself home that late while I was still running a fever so he drove me home, we got food on the way back, I showered, then immediately went to sleep after crying a little but bc everything hurt so bad lmao

[notlongtolove]

in the woods

three photos. three crime scenes. three notes. slowly, then all at once, it hits you. you know these words. you’ve read these words before. why do you know these words? where have you read them before? this work is part of the little red cap series

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader (second person, no y/n)

genre: fluff?

content: very brief mentions of a crime scene and blood. lit student reader helps spencer put together a clue he missed.

word count: 2.6k

note: this idea was truly so random but if you like it and are interested to see a p2 that includes her meeting the team feel free to lmk! i would love to develop this story but im having mad writers block rn lol anyways the linked poem is amazing, one of my favourites.

a line: Spencer Reid hardly swears, if ever, but the next words out of his mouth are nothing short of explicit.

But then I was young – and it took ten years In the woods to tell that a mushroom Stoppers the mouth of a buried corpse, that birds Are the uttered thought of trees, that a greying wolf Howls the same old song at the moon, year in, year out- carol ann duffy

Spencer’s distracted tonight. You noticed it the moment he breezed past you, pressing a distracted kiss to your cheek before disappearing into the study. Normally, you’d give him space, let him untangle the thoughts on his own, but it’s past midnight now, and you’ve decided enough is enough.

“Spence,” you call softly from the doorway. 

He doesn’t look up.

​​You take a breath and step inside, the floorboards cool under your bare feet. The study feels foreign to you. You’re hardly ever in here despite Spencer’s gentle efforts to make space for you after you’d started spending more time at his place. He’d cleared half of the mahogany desk for your own books and files—a space now claimed by a few framed photos of the two of you from last year’s Christmas market.

You’ve always preferred his bed over the confines of this room, the comfort of his sheets beneath you, his bedside table the perfect coaster for your copious cups of coffee as you slog over your essays. The study always felt too still, almost stifling. It’s the kind of quiet that breeds overthinking, though Spencer thrives in it—Especially when it’s work.

Which it does seem to be tonight, judging by the furrow of his brow and the way his hands are clasped, tense, as he pours over the file in front of him. You cross the remaining space and place a gentle hand on his shoulder, thumb moving in soothing circles. 

“Hey,” you murmur, leaning down to speak into the curve of his neck. He reaches up absently, fingers threading into your hair, but his eyes stay fixed on the contents on the desk. 

“Come to bed,” you whisper, quieter this time, softer, as though you might coax him away if you’re gentle enough. 

He murmurs something you don’t quite catch, his focus still locked on the papers. You frown, the corners of your mouth tugging downward as you try again, this time layering your voice with the soft insistence you know he can’t resist.

“Please?”

That gets him. He sighs, the sound heavy, before slowly swivelling his chair around to face you. There’s a small flicker of satisfaction in your chest—still got it, you think, though his tired eyes make it hard to fully savour the victory.

“Soon, honey,” he says, soft and apologetic, but it’s not enough for you.

“Missed you today,” you murmur, stepping closer.

He shuts his eyes for a moment, reaching out to pull you into him. His arms wrap around your waist as he presses his face into your stomach, breathing you in like you’re the first fresh air he’s had all day. And with the day he’s had, you might as well be. 

“It’s almost 1,” you remind him gently, brushing a strand of his hair back. “And you haven’t even showered.”

He makes a sound—somewhere between a groan and a half-hearted protest. Probably indignation, though he doesn’t bother to articulate it. When he finally lifts his head to look at you, your chest tightens. He looks so so tired. Handsome, always, but tonight, the weariness in his eyes is impossible to miss.

“Aw, honey,” you coo, voice soft with affection. “C’mere.”

It’s ironic, considering you’re the one climbing into his lap. The chair protests under your combined weight with a faint creak, but neither of you care. Just your presence alone is a comfort that Spencer accepts all too willingly. He doesn’t hesitate, pulling you closer and burying his face into you, fingers toying with the edges of your—his shirt.

“Tough case?” you ask quietly, your fingers slipping into his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp.

He nods defeatedly, the motion slow and heavy, like even that small acknowledgment takes too much out of him.

“He’s already—” Spencer sighs, low and weary. “Already killed three women. And the profile is… flimsy at best.”

You nod quietly, your fingers gently tracing patterns on his shoulder. Though crime-solving and criminal profiling aren’t your expertise, the weight of what he carries is never lost on you. You’ve come to know the signs all too well.

You see it in the way he comes home after cases like this—silent, drained, his body curling into yours. You hear it in his voice when his worry spills over during arguments, like the time he snapped at you for drinking too much on a night out after a brutal final. It wasn’t out of anger but fear, raw, born from the evils he sees every day. He’d never explicitly linked it to the horrors of his work, but you didn’t need to be a profiler to piece it together. 

“You’ll catch him,” you say softly, keeping your voice steady despite the knot tightening in your stomach. “You guys always do.”

Spencer sighs, releasing one hand from your waist to rub the bridge of his nose. “There’s something off,” he mutters, words tinged with frustration. “I just... I can’t figure out what it is.”

“Do you… want to talk about it?” you offer gently, watching his face for any sign of what he needs.

He manages a faint, tired smile and shakes his head. “I’d rather not,” he murmurs.

You nod, letting it go. Spencer tries, always, to keep that part of his life separate from you. But even you know some things are impossible to leave behind. Shadows don’t adhere to boundaries. They’re stubborn and heavy, sometimes seeping into the cracks of his resolve. All you can do is try your best to hold him together when that weight gets too much to bear. Leaning into him, you rest your head against his, the silence between you filled with a kind of unspoken understanding.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” Spencer whispers after a moment, as though he can sense your quiet disappointment at not being able to do more. His arm tightens around your waist as though anchoring himself. You press a soft kiss to his temple, a quiet gesture of acknowledgement.

“Now,” you say, standing up. Spencer leans forward instinctively, unwilling to let the warmth of you go. “Shower?”

He glances between you and the desk strewn with papers, hesitation in his face. “After I—”

“Nope,” you interrupt, grabbing both his hands and gently pulling him to his feet. “I’ll handle this,” you say, gesturing to the chaos on the desk. “You,” you point toward him, then toward the bathroom, “Shower. Now.”

Spencer lets out a long-suffering sigh, but the smile tugging at his lips betrays him. “Bossy,” he teases softly.

“Maybe,” you reply, a playful glint in your eyes. “But you love me.”

Without missing a beat, Spencer wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you closer as he presses a kiss to your lips. “Wow,” he murmurs against your mouth, his tone warm and teasing. “Bossy and smart. How did I get so lucky?”

You roll your eyes but can’t help smiling, nudging him lightly toward the bathroom. “Go,” you say, laughing. “Before I add ‘violent’ to that list.” At that, Spencer tears his arms away from your waist, holding his hands up in mock surrender as he backs slowly toward the door. “Go!” you laugh again, shaking your head at him before turning your attention to the desk strewn with papers.

You turn your attention back to the desk surveying the organized chaos, trying to piece together how he usually files them. The thin sheets—pale and slightly crumpled—belong in the manila folder. The thicker briefs, stapled neatly, go in the black case. And the photos…

Huh. 

Your hand pauses mid-reach, brow furrowing as your eyes fall on the glossy prints. You tilt your head. Something about them feels—almost… familiar, maybe. You stop to lay them out side by side, studying them more closely. 

Three photos. Three crime scenes. Three notes. 

The first note reads, ‘I burn.’ The words are scrawled haphazardly, the letters jagged and uneven.

The second is darker, more ominous, ‘Your knife.’ Its edges marked by splatters of blood.

The third is the most unsettling of all. Just two words. ‘All alone.’ Stark and final. 

Slowly, then all at once, it hits you. 

You know these words. You’ve read these words before. 

Why do you know these words? Where have you read them before?

It gnaws at you. The exhaustion you felt earlier is long gone as you find yourself sinking into Spencer’s chair. Your fingers trace the edges of the prints as you try to piece together your fragments of memory. You don’t know how much time has passed since you first laid eyes on the photos until Spencer calls to you from the bedroom.

“In here,” you answer absently.

When he steps into the doorway, your heart flutters despite yourself. He’s a sight to behold—hair damp, shirt slightly clinging to his chest, a towel draped over his shoulders as he dries his hair.

“Hey,” he says, a soft smile tugging at his lips. “Why’re you still in here?”

“Got distracted,” you murmur, gesturing to the desk.

“Intriguing, huh?”

“She definitely is,” you reply, almost without thinking.

“I don’t know when he’ll strike next—” he starts, then stops abruptly. His expression shifts, his gaze sharpening as he looks at you. 

“What’d you just say?”

“Hm?” You blink, finally meeting his eyes.

“You said ‘she’s’ intriguing,” he repeats, stepping closer now. “You think the unsub’s a she?”

“Isn’t she?” you say, frowning at the question. “I could definitely use a lot of other words to describe her, but…” your voice uncertain.

“What makes you say that?”

“Well, the poems, for one—I mean, they’re all about hurt and enraged women,” you explain. “And signing off with them? That’s definitely not not intriguing…” You trail off, puzzled by the sudden gravity of the conversation. 

Spencer goes rigid, every muscle in his body locking up. “Poems?” 

“Yeah,” you say, your voice small now, “The notes. They’re all closing words of Duffy’s poems. I thought you—Did you not…” 

Your words trail off as you see his face harden, eyes widening as the weight of your words hits him. 

“Oh my god.” Your hands fly to your mouth as the realization hits you, the pieces suddenly falling into place. “You didn’t know.”

Spencer Reid hardly swears, if ever, but the next words out of his mouth are nothing short of explicit. He’s already moving towards the desk, the towel falling unnoticed to the floor. “Show me,” he says, urgency in his voice. You get up quickly, wanting to make room, but he stops you. “No, you sit,” he says, eyes locked on the notes. “Show me.”

“Okay, okay.” You steady yourself before pointing to the first note. “Um, look, this one, ‘I burn.’ It’s from her poem Warming Her Pearls. She’s a maid who secretly pines for her mistress. She loves her but, well, she can’t be with her cause they’re from different societies.” You look up at him expectantly. “It’s about class inequality and…”

“Unrequited love.” Spencer finishes gravely, his voice low but certain.

“Right, exactly.” You glance up at him, searching his face for understanding. Spencer nods, taking it in, and you move on to the next. 

“And then this one, ‘Your knife.’ It’s from Valentine. The speaker, she doesn’t want the usual valentine gifts, so she gives an onion instead. But… she says it’ll make the receiver cry, because well, onions do that. It’s a basically a metaphor for love, how—” You take a deep breath, your throat tightening. “How dangerous it can become.”

Spencer stays quiet, but his eyes are fixed on you. His hand finds your back, giving a reassuring, gentle rub.

You hesitate before pointing to the last note. “And this one, ‘All alone.’” You swivel the chair around to face him fully, the tension in your chest growing. “I wasn’t sure about the first two, but when I saw this, I knew.”

“Little Red Cap,” Spencer finishes for you, his voice tinged with self-reproach. “Your favourite. God, why didn’t I see this?”

You nod, your voice softening. “Yeah. The opening poem of The World’s Wife. She uses Red Riding Hood to explore growing up, losing innocence and… well, you know the rest.”

Spencer’s lips press into a thin line as he nods grimly. “The wolf represents someone older, predatory. A lover.”

“Yeah, and she uh,” you say, barely a whisper. “She kills him.”

Spencer’s jaw tightens, his frustration evident. “How did I not—How’d you—” If the situation weren’t so dire, you might have joked about never expecting to hear those words from Spencer Reid. Instead, you force a shrug, casual, as if your analysis hadn’t just reshaped everything. “TA-ed a few classes on Duffy,” you say grimly.

The silence stretches, heavy and charged, until Spencer crouches down in front of you. His sharp eyes soften as they meet yours. “You’re… you’re incredible, you know that?” His tone is low, reverent. He presses a brief, warm kiss to your forehead before standing, running a hand through his still-damp hair. Then his expression shifts, eyes darkening with urgency. “I need to make a call.” 

You nod silently, still curled up in his chair. You don’t trust your legs to carry you to the bed that’s one room over, not right now. Spencer steps away, his phone already pressed to his ear. It takes only a few moments before he starts speaking.

“Hotch,” he begins, “I think the unsub is a woman.”

The reply on the other end is muffled, but you can follow the conversation through Spencer’s responses.

“Poems, yeah—Carol Ann Duffy,” he says, pacing a few steps. “We’ve been looking for patterns in the wrong places.”

He pauses, listening, before adding, “How’d I—? Just… from a friend.”

His tone is careful, protective. You know Spencer doesn’t want his team knowing about you. When Spencer told you he wanted to keep his professional and personal lives separate, you didn’t understand at first. But after he’d opened up about what happened to his boss—how it shattered everyone—you stopped pushing. You understood then why he was so insistent on drawing those boundaries, even if it meant staying in the shadows of his world. 

You watch him, eyes tracing the way his jaw clenches, the restless motion of his fingers. “This is the lead we need. What—No, we don’t need to bring them in.” ​​You can see the moment his patience snaps.

“What we need is to focus on her work—her themes, her voice. It’ll give us insight into the unsub’s mindset. No, I—” Spencer’s tone sharpens, frustration creeping in as he rakes a hand through his hair, tugging at the ends. 

“I know this is important, I’m not saying it isn’t—” He stops mid-sentence, the voice on the other end cutting him off. His lips press into a thin line, and he exhales through his nose, fingers pinching the bridge. “Fine,” he mutters, his tone tense but resigned. 

“Okay.” He pauses for a beat, “We’ll—she’ll be there.”

As he hangs up, Spencer turns back to you, his expression carefully guarded. “What are you doing tomorrow?” he asks, tentative.

You have two lectures. “Nothing,” you say, the word slipping out easily. He frowns, uncertain. 

“Kristoff’s out sick, and Burton doesn’t care about attendance anyway,” you quickly lie. The tension in his face eases just slightly, but you can still see the hesitation in his eyes.

“Right, um, my boss,” You can sense a hint of nervous energy in the way he shifts his weight. “He wants us in at 8, sharp. I’ll drive.”

The apology is clear in his expression as he crouches down, taking your hands in his. “I know this isn’t exactly what you signed up for,” he says, his voice quieter now. “But... I know he wouldn’t ask if it weren’t important.” 

A simple, quiet “I know” is all you can manage.

You can tell he feels bad about dragging you into this. You definitely hadn’t imagined this would be your introduction to his world either—messy, intense, and impossibly heavy. And from this brief glimpse, you’re not sure if you’re ready for it after all.

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ hi if you're here! thank you for reading! feel free to like or reblog or comment or reply!

[thewandererh]

what if why we didn’t see the doctor’s primary black-cloaked vessel ingame is because it’s his last resort? what if it’s where his heart is stored? or even where all the last copies of all his vital organs are kept safe?

an active consciousness can still stem from a backup of his brain, which his primary vessel holds. so, after his physical brain goes belly up (literally😭) the network of transmitting consciousness to each of his bots is still active. just transferred to a weaker method.

following the “murder” of dr harley sawyer in chapter 4, perhaps he scrambles back to this old vessel whereever it is. maybe it’s been neglected, a plan B dangerously collecting dust, or it’s sitting pristine in a sterile room on life support. nevertheless, harley finds himself in it after croaking his “last words” mid-transfer, and struggles to breathe. he forgot about this vessel. he’d cast it aside because it held the scars of his initial transfer into machine and the containment that followed. it was his first body. and it was so weak. but now it is his last chance.

however, he’s not properly adjusted to the whole having organs thing, and this vessel needs to be properly taken care of. so with bated breath and the struggle of calming his mind, he summons one of his metal corpses from his brain’s tomb. it takes a few agonizing minutes as it arrives to wherever he is, but eventually it’s close enough that he can actively switch bodies with it. consciousness transferral relies on proximity (this is why we only see the bots around his brain ingame).

revived and disoriented, the doctor must now look after himself. the fact of being reduced to this husk eats away at every atom of his being, but he’s simply too weak. he failed. he failed and he’ll be killed for it. but he’s not afraid.

when the splitting headaches cease and he gets used to being alive he can kill something again.

soon, but not yet.

4/19/25 edit : THIS AU NOW HAS A SIDEBLOG! https://www.tumblr.com/screws-of-sawyer headcanons, fics, art!!

…

…

info ramble & sillies under cut!

au idea, ayo?? early titles are ‘mechanized-mind’ or ‘inside-the-mind-of-harley’ or even ‘dry-bones’ but i’m still brainstorming X]. i love putting my characters through emotional agony <33 but this time it’s an au of an existing character i have to analyze to get right so that’ll be fun. now for the drawing, i really like both medical concepts and making stuff up so maybe only some of the function would actually work, but i do not care. the idea was that harley’s primary vessel had a more meshy, detachable plate in his chest to give room for his heart and probably-disproportionately-sized lungs. here that plate is removed in order to help his heart beat. tons of other tubes are wired into his ventilation vents to keep him running to. my running idea for why the sarley hawyer (clone bot, aka secondary vessel) here doesn’t have a cloak is because maybe he had to take it off due to contamination. or it got snagged on the way here. but honestly i didn’t want to cover up the cool anatomy of my neat design i’ve been playing with, so he is naked once again 😔

this was the big flipaclip harley piece i mentioned in this post while trying to animate something. this idea arose instead, and slowly came to fruition as i found an elaborate way to color while listening to some lethal company and ppt 3 & 4 vids. pen pressure is really new to me and i’m on my knees thanking it for this neat coloring texture and technique i will probably never use again 🛐😌🫶 thank you apple pencil ilysm

anyways, here’s some funny wip shots, and general doctor sillies i found today!! ^_^ it’s been another doctor day

once again, astralspiff is a very cool guy guys 🗣️🔥🔥

but alas. adios amigos 😵‍💫🫡 goedenacht!

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer Park Steve AU part 4

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

September

He doesn’t talk to the Munsons much. (Doesn’t talk to anyone, really, aside from his mom and Robin and that one older woman who keeps renting and returning Gone With The Wind as an excuse to leave her house.) He keeps his head down and his nose clean, doesn’t care to make friends with the neighbors; just wants to get by.

One day Eddie approaches their door, waving a gas bill that got mixed up in their mail, and Steve greets him pleasantly enough.

“Stab anyone today?”

“Eat glass, Harrington.”

So it goes.

Steve watches the world pass and the weather turn, lets the hours bleed into weeks and squeezes his eyes shut against the flashbacks when they threaten to overwhelm.

Things with his mom are weird.

They don’t really speak, preferring to shrug their way past each other with careful, tight-lipped nods, and his mom takes these pills the doctor gave her that keep her perfectly pleasant and calm. Silent. Physically present but not really here.

And he can’t imagine how it feels to be her: Florence Harrington, ripped from the comforts of the upper crust and left to rot in a tin can seven miles across town. She spends most of her time letting out weary little sighs as she swans from room to room, drifting like a shade on the banks of the River Styx. (He can make that reference now because Robin won’t shut up about mythology. “It’s so gay, Steve. The Greeks were literally so gay.”)

Anyway.

Shit’s weird with the kids, too. He still drives them around — lets them loiter at Family Video when it’s slow; hangs around when they need a ride to the arcade or the movies or the skating rink; and he’s still on the hook for ‘ice cream. for. life,’ so…

It’s just not the same.

Like. Not to be dramatic, but who the fuck is Steve Harrington without the house and the pool and the free-for-all fridge? Just some kid with a car and a bat and a punchable face. And he can barely afford to keep the car now, anyway, so pretty soon they won’t need him for that, either. They’ll learn to drive; they’ll get their own jobs. Maybe Lucas builds enough muscle to take over as the party tank.

Maybe it’s better if he shelfs himself now before they realize he’s become obsolete.

“Oh, my god, you’re being pathetic,” he groans to himself. His voice is muffled where he’s lying face down on the couch. Ridiculous behavior, because everything is fine; Steve is fine. In the grand scheme of things where there are monsters and melted corpses and all kinds of crazy, horrible shit?

Yeah.

He’s being obnoxious. It’s a lovely sunny Saturday afternoon with just the right Autumn breeze going — gentle but cool; long sleeve polo weather; his favorite kind — and he’s sitting inside throwing himself a pity party.

Fucking absurd.

…Five more minutes.

Just five more minutes, then he’s getting off this couch.

He gets to a minute and a half when he hears the crunch of tires against the gravel, the clanging of a little bell from the handlebar of a bike, and then:

“STEVE!!!”

And that’ll be Dustin, trying to bang the door off the hinges and piss off the whole park at the same time. Kid’s nothing if not a multitasker. Steve lets another aggrieved groan loose into the couch cushion.

His mom’s out with the car; the lights are all off. Maybe he can just play dead ‘til Dustin leaves? He loves the kid, he really does, but his left ear is full of static, and he just wants to fucking sleep. Or sulk. Or both.

“STEVEN CHRISTOPHER, I KNOW YOU’RE IN THERE.”

Jeeeeesus Christ. “Okay, chill,” Steve grumbles as he hauls himself upright and throws open the front door. His limbs feel like lead; there’s drool on his chin. “Wake the whole goddamn neighborhood, why don’t you?”

“It’s two in the afternoon.”

“Yeah, and half the people here work nights.”

“Oh-kayy,” Dustin drags out the word, “but you don’t.”

Ugh. Whatever. He’s not gonna be shamed by a toothless teenager for his depressing loser tendencies. “Did you need something?”

Steve scratches at his belly hair through his shirt, feels a muscle twinge in his shoulder and send a spark of nerve pain skittering up to the base of his skull.

Dustin either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care that Steve’s body is falling apart where he stands, because he just rolls his eyes and says, “Uh, yeah. I need to know why you’re avoiding everyone? Mom’s tried to invite you to dinner six times now.”

“I was working.”

“All six times?” Dustin glares. Steve feels a little pinned by it, feels guilt seeping through the cracks as he fidgets with his bad ear. This kid’s gonna be the scariest lawyer some day. “She’s worried.”

Goddammit.

Guilt squeezes hard behind his ribs; he knows Dustin uses his mom as a mouthpiece for the feelings he can’t express. “I’m fine,” he sighs, letting his eyes and voice go soft. “Honest.”

Dustin holds firm, gaze fierce and fists clenched. “Bullshit,” he insists.

“Man, don’t—”

“Bull. Shit.”

Suddenly, their impromptu interrogation gets interrupted by a crashing drum fill, a shriek of electric guitar as Munson’s van squeals into the lot. He’s blasting some melodramatic metal shit about wizards or whatever; Steve doesn’t know. He only knows that the skitter of nerve pain he felt is ramping up to a fullblown migraine now because this guy has to listen to his racket at full fucking volume, apparently, and isn’t this all just “fucking great.”

—

part 5

[tryagainstarlight]

Isabeau's friend quest!

(You follow Isabeau around for a while... Going through Dormont, then the forest, until...)

(A field...?)

(There's nothing around...)

(What could he possibly need?)

💫: "So, what do you need me to do?"

🪨: Huh? Oh, um...

🪨: ...Lay down with me?

(...?)

(You lay down.)

💫: "And then?"

🪨: And then...

🪨: Look up!

(You look up.)

(Stars, stars, stars, all around you.)

(You inhale sharply.)

🪨: Y'know, when you asked me if I needed help earlier, I wasn't sure what to say!

🪨: I don't really need help with anything... And I did all I needed to prepare for tomorrow and stuff.

🪨: But I saw you run around and help everyone today, and that seemed kinda fun! And so, I thought...

🪨: "[Loop] making sure to help everyone today, but I just want to hang out with him!!!¨

(Oh.)

(. . .)

(Oh.)

(On what he thinks is his last day on Earth, he just wanted to spend some time with you.)

(...)

💫: "Why stars?"

🪨: Oh!

🪨: Um.

🪨: So, you know how you say this word, when you're annoyed or something bad happens?

🪨: I don't know what language it is, but I always thought it was like a swear word? Like "crab"?

🪨: And I looked in a few books, but I couldn't find the word anywhere, and I got really curious...

🪨: And one day, I heard someone else say it! So I asked them, and they said it means "stars"!

🪨: And I noticed you know stuff about the sky! You talked about planets once, and the sun, like you really knew what you were talking about.

🪨: And sometimes, when we slept outside, you'd spend most of the night looking at the night sky.

🪨: And I thought that was interesting, because I never thought about what's up there before! But, um...

🪨: So I thought maybe, um, like, you'd like, to see the stars? Together? O-or just in general!

(How perceptive, Isabeau!)

(You want to cry for the second time today.)

💫: "..."

🪨: Oh no, was I wrong??? Was it really more of an actual swear word like "crab", where you don't actually like stars and stars are bad and gross??? Did I step in it??? Did I mess up???

💫: "..."

💫: "...No, you didn't step in it."

🪨: Oh, phew! I got scared, heheh.

🪨: Anyway, I've heard some people can see stuff in the stars, sometimes! Like, pictures!

🪨: They're called... Conste-something?

💫: "Constellations."

🪨: Constellations!!!

🪨: Yes, that! Do you know some?

(You look up at the stars.)

(You don't recognise any of them. They all look like dots.)

💫: "No, I don't know any."

🪨: Huh.

🪨: ...You're saying I didn't step in it, but...

🪨: [Loop]...

(Change the subject.)

💫: "No, no, you're fine, hahaha!"

💫: "Tell me something?"

🪨: Something?

💫: "Something about you."

🪨: Oh, okay! Um…

(He explains his time when he was younger, when he was a little kid. A smart nerdy kid with glasses, braids, shy and couldn’t make friends. He didn’t like who he was, so he Changed. Changed into the person he wanted to be.)

(You can’t see him any other way than the boisterous man he is.)

(He is able to craft himself into a new person. To Change and bury the old him behind. Oh, how you wish you could do that. To leave this old corpse behind. To be Crafted by the very stars themselves and be something new, than a role that long outstayed its welcome.)

(His wish came true. He is lucky.)

(You're not the only one acting in this play, are you.)

🪨: Heh... I might change to be a mix between a jock and a nerd.

🪨: Balancing it all, you know?

(Heh.)

💫: "So, you'll change into a nock?"

🪨: More like a jerd! Sounds better, doesn't it? Better mouth feel.

💫: "They both sound bad, Isa."

🪨: Nooooo, don't say that! Hahaha!!!

💫: "You can be a buff nerd."

🪨: Oh.

🪨: . . .

🪨: ...You think I'm buff?

(You quickly look away from him. Was your face always this warm?)

🪨: A-Anyway, after we beat the King tomorrow, and go our separate ways, I'll just change into someone else!

🪨: Someone who can be both strong AND smart!

🪨: Both at once!!! What a concept!!! Doesn't that sound like someone cool?

🪨: Doesn't that feel like someone you wouldn't feel ashamed of knowing?

(Isabeau.)

(You want to tell him so badly.)

(You want to tell him that he brought laughter into your life, before this hell.)

(That you learned puns and jokes to make him laugh.)

(That you didn't know how to describe yourself, you didn't know who you even were, until you said a bad pun once, and he laughed so hard you thought he was going to pass out.)

(That even now, you wouldn't trade this half-life for anything else… For these moments…)

(You want to hold his hand.)

(You grip the grass under your palm.)

💫: "Isa..."

🪨: ...Yeah, [Loop]?

💫: "I have never felt ashamed of knowing you."

💫: "Not even a little bit."

🪨: Heh, you're gonna make me blush, [Loop]...!

🪨: And, well... You know I feel the same, right? You're like, maybe the coolest person I know... You know that, right?

🪨: And I really like spending time with you! When we hang out, I always discover new things, like cool theatre stuff, or even just something new about you.

🪨: And I like how you always have a pun ready for any situation

🪨: How you breathe in this specific way sometimes, and I wish I could breathe with you to make you feel better.

🪨: And I like the way your face looks when you eat your favourite foods,

🪨: And I want to know more about you,

🪨: Talk with you more,

🪨: Laugh with you more,

🪨: And... And I...

(You hold your breath.)

(You can't look away from him.)

🪨: I...

🪨: W-Woah, is that a shooting star?! Hey, look up! I-Isn't it cool?

(You look away from him, and look up at the starry sky.)

(There's no shooting star.)

(But you don't mind.)

(...You do mind. Don’t you.)

🍳: AhHAH!!! See, I told you they'd be here!!!

💎: You heard Isa mumble to himself about it earlier, more like.

🎀: Hi [Loop], hi Isabeau! We figured you'd be here!

🎀: Can we join you?

🪨: EVERYONE IS HERE!!!

🪨: Good to see you, everyone!!!

🎀: Such a beautiful night... Was it your idea to come here, Isabeau?

🪨: It was!!!

💎: Under the stars, huh...

💎: How romantic. Very well done, Isabeau.

🪨: Wh-What? No, it wasn't romantic at all.

🪨: Just a pals outing. A buddies hangout. I, of course, would bring anyone of you here.

(You feel hurt…)

💎: Uh huh.

🍳: I brought our food!!! So we can eat here!!!

🎀: A nightly picnic!

🪨: Oh, I can smell samosas... Yummy...

🍳: Yeah, I made a lot! [Loop], take one!

🍳: Take two, even. You deserve it.

🎀: [Loop] sure worked hard today, didn't they? Thank you for your help earlier!

(You jump.)

💎: Yes, thank you, [Loop]. You've been a great help today.

🍳: Frin taught me how to fight!!! I'll be able to help you tomorrow!!!

🎀: Oooh! I'm looking forward to it, Bonnie!

🍳: Za, did [Loop] help you today too?

(You freeze.)

(Did you???)

🪨: Of course [Loop] helped me today!!!

(Isabeau is looking at you, smiling brightly.)

🪨: Thank you for spending time with me, Sif!!!

(Oh. You.. Your heart feels to. Skip a beat.)

(AAAAUUUGH FIGHTER. WHY. AAA)

(You hide your face beneath the rim of your hat. Your face feels like to be on blinding fire.)

🎀: How wonderful!

💎: Thank you, oh great helper.

💎: Here, have another samosa.

🪨: And have some pâté and bread!

🎀: I'm sure you want some tea, too!!!

🍳: And here's some of my curry–

(Your plate is overflowing-)

(You see everything on your plate sway back and forth...)

(You eat as much as possible before everything falls down.)

🎀: Oh...!!!

(...)

(You burp. Bleh.)

🍳: EW!!!

🎀: Hehe!!!

🪨: HAHAHA!!!

💎: Ha! Nice reflexes, [Loop]!

(Everyone starts laughing happily.)

(You laugh, too.)

(You're surrounded by your allies...)

(Your heart lifts.)

(You love them.)

(You're glad you got to spend time with them.)

(You're glad you know them better.)

(You're glad--)

🍳: [Loop], you okay? Want more snacks?

(You smile.)

💫: "Yes, please!"

🍳: Then eat! Eat as much as you want!!!

(You all ate and laughed under the stars...)

(Tomorrow, once again, you'll go into the House, and fight the King.)

(But today... )

(Today, you're happy.)

(You had a nice time yesterday, hanging out with Isabeau under the stars.)

(You got a MEMORY OF STARGAZING!)

(You'll always remember this.)

ﾟ.+:｡You got a new memory.

ﾟ.+:｡When equipped, Memory of Stargazing boosts all of your Fighter's stats by 30.Your Fighter also learned the skill "WE WILL WIN!!!".

ﾟ.+:｡ "WE WILL WIN!!!" is amazingly strong. When used, it boosts everyone's ATTACK, DEFENSE and ATTACK SPEED for a few turns.

ﾟ.+:｡ It's so strong, you'll only be able to use it when you and your Fighter have had this exact conversation.

ﾟ.+:｡ So if you loop back to Dormont, you'll have to talk to him all over again. Remember that.

ﾟ.+:｡ Starlight. Wasn’t that fun? Nice? Hanging out with all of them? They love you. Even stronger than before.

ﾟ.+:｡ Isnt that neat.

(It is neat.)

(You don't want to have to loop back to before you spent that time with them.)

(What would happen if... If you stayed with this version of them... Until the end?)

If you went through the entire House, without looping ahead, beat the King, and saw the Head Housemaiden, with them?)

(Would anything happen?)

(Would anything change?)

(From what the voices in your head have been telling you....)

(. . .)

(Time to walk all the way up, and beat the King. Don't keep your hopes up too high.)

[beababoobies]

Hey, could you please do an angel dust x emo reader?

I am going to be using NB!reader for this but please do know I’m quite aware Angel is gay! He is canonically gay and I think that’s cool yippers ok lesgo 🙏🙏 by Emo I wasn’t sure exactly what you meant so I went with like an angry moody bitch with a 2000s MySpace Emo sort of aesthetic. If you want something diff feel free to re-request and specify! Thatz it :3 </3 (also Emo community please don’t attack me you guys are so cool I’m scared of you. I know corpse paint is gothic I swear please you guys are so cool).

Corpse Paint

Angel Dusk X Emo!NB!Reader

words : 1k , warning for mentions of sexual trauma!

You had been staying in this fucking hotel for months. Did it suck ass? Yes. Did you kind of maybe despise half the people here? Oh, absolutely. But - free place to crash, and it’s not like you were doing much with your days anyways, so the “rehabilitation” excersizes only got positivity-toxic half the time. Plus, Charlie let you skip out on them. Her little girlfriend didn’t though, so you were usually there dejectedly. Not anything worse than your highschool experience. 

But you also had Angel. Anthony. Whatever he let you call him depending on the day. And he was half the reason you stayed here. The amount of times you’ve crawled into bed with him and cried? You hadn’t cared to keep track of anymore. A long day, night - of shooting scenes, and you gently comforted him while he laid tiredly in bed, rubbing his back until he fell asleep. Plus, you liked his pig. You and fat nuggets would hangout whenever he was gone. 

You wouldn’t consider your relationship too romantic, but it was unbelievably supportive. You two didn’t really get intimate, due to his work, he didn’t trust anyone he was intimate with. He told you that that could change, but you reassured him over and over that it didn’t ever have to. You were happy gently comforting him. You were happy drinking with him, you were happy to be around him.

That didn’t mean he was completely touch-adverse, though. You exchanged small pecks on the cheeks, held hands - though not publicly, due to some of his fans obsessive behaviours - cuddled up. Charlie had offered to just let you guys share a room, but you had rejected the idea and shut it down pretty quickly. You loved each other very dearly, but sometimes you just needed space. 

Today wasn’t one of those days, though. You, head resting in his lap as he scrolled on his phone, your 2000s MySpace mix playing softly in the background as you looking through a new catalogue of Hell’s Most Edgy with a marker, circling anything you liked, Fat Nuggets sleeping soundly at Angel’s feet, snoring loudly. But adorably. 

“I have a favor to ask.” Angel mumbled out nervously. He hated asking for anything. Especially from someone he had already asked so much of. But you just nodded silently, circling a new, shiny pair of black platforms, before looking up at him with a small smile. “‘Sup, Webs?” You asked, tilting your head as you sat up properly.

“I - well, Val wants to do this shoot today, but he wants me to do Corpse paint. I don’t know how to do.. that. So I was wondering if you could help me out?” He asks with a nervous smile, only to watch the smile on your face grow wide, nodding excitedly as you hopped quickly off the bed to run to your room to get your makeup, disturbing a now cranky Fat Nuggets, who oinked at Angel before walking over to his bed to fall back to sleep. 

You came back into his room, closing the door quietly behind you, box of white cream foundation and a million sticks of eyeliner and other black makeup pencils, along with some dramatic statement lashes and lash glue, sitting down next to him on the bed on your knees, gesturing for him to sit up with his legs out straight. You straddled him softly, opening your box of makeup.

“So, this feels - kind of gross to put on. Gonna survive that?” You ask with a smile, tilting your head as he nodded with a small chuckle. “I’ve had much worse on my face.” He says with a wink and a smile. “I’ll survive.” He says with a shrug as you brush some of his fluff out of his face, starting to paint the thick white foundering over his pale pink fur, watching him awakward my try to avoid eye contact, hands awkwardly shifting, trying not to touch your thighs.

“You can put your hands on my thighs, it’s okay. I’m not going to initiate anything.” You say reassuringly and watch as one of his pairs of hands rest comfortably on your thighs, the other set holding up a mirror so he can see the work you’re doing. You watch him visibly relax slightly. He always is a little paranoid about people trying to be intimate with him - reasonably so - so you make sure to quietly reassure him in these moments. 

It takes a couple thick layers of the face paint to get his Angel stamp of approval, in which you go in with black eye-safe eyeliner for his eyes, coating them in black and following the image he used as reference, making streaks of black run from his eyes. You pierced your lips together as you leaned back to admire your work. “It’s missing something.” You mumble quietly, before peeking up and pulling out a pair of white lashes from your kit, and he smiles. You let him apply them himself, and with some white underliner, it looks perfect.

You give him some black lipstick, too, but that’s about the extent of what he wants. You give him your old lipstick too, because you and him both know he’s gonna need some re-applying. You watch as he walks over to the mirror, admiring your work - a job well done you’re sure - when he smiles at his reflection and the giddy way you smile back at him through your own reflection.

He pulls you up into a big hug and you giggle as he picks you up and spins you around, before you get him to put you down, smiling from ear to ear at how happy he looks with himself and the work you’ve done. His phone buzzes and he sighs, kissing you softly on the head before heading out, not even daring to put his famous sunglasses on and ruin your work. 

A new memory that’s keeping you sane in these old hotel walls. 

[darlingofsatoru]

DRESS UP DARLIN’

⊹ synopsis: Various Jjk characters & how they’d react to you in certain halloween outfits.

⊹warnings: Implied fem!reader, very short drabbles, Reader uses makeup+ wears dresses in most, potentially ooc characters.

SATORU GOJO- ANGEL

Satoru can’t help but pause as you step out your room, eyes darting all over you shamelessly as you rummage through your handbag.

There’s only a few words that he can even think to describe you in that moment: Pretty, gorgeous, ethereal even..

“… I agr.. ee .. so I s— Satoru??” Your voice awakens him out of his thoughts, suddenly right in front of him.

He’s not even sure how that got past his senses but he lets out a content sigh, adjusting the collar on his outfit before beginning to admire your outfit once more.

An all white dress, no straps and a feather-like look to it along with matching wings

So this is why you told him to dress as a devil, matching outfits..

“…Huh, even prettier up close. I better keep you near today, huh, don’t want anyone stealing you!” He grins playfully, gently tugging you towards his embrace.

Halloween has always been fun but he’s sure it’ll be 10x better with you here.

RYOMEN SUKUNA- DEAD/CORPSE BRIDE

Truthfully, Sukuna has no interest in halloween.

It’s a silly tradition and he barely bothered to dress up, the only reason he did a little bit being you.

By barely bothered, he simply means that he’s wearing a light change of outfit that could probably be considered creepy (as if Sukuna himself isn’t scary enough) if you looked at it long enough.

Thinking of you, he groans as he gets up from his feet and goes to open his mouth to speak, stopping when he noticed you come into the room excitedly.

A white dress stained with fake blood (that doesn’t really look accurate to Sukuna, but he can appreciate the effect a bit, he supposes), not too long but also not too short for a wedding dress, paired with a classic veil covering your lipstick covered lips.

“Not half as bad as the deranged outfits most wear, I might even like yours, dare I say.” He smirks, enjoying the lift of spirit in your face from his words alone.

Maybe he doesn’t detest Halloween entirely..

YUJI ITADORI- WITCH

Yuji smiles widely, adjusting his top-hat excitedly.

He feels like Halloween was ages ago so the prospect of dressing up, especially with you, is great and has definitely put him into a good mood for the last week or so.

He actually wasn’t sure if a magician was scary but you’d suggested it could be, saying he could pull out weapons on unsuspecting bystanders (which, in his opinion, did sound pretty creepy).

“Hey, you okay in there?” He yells to you, rummaging the cupboard for the trick or treat buckets.

“Yeah, I’ll be out in a minute!” You shout back, taking a few moments before you emerge with a broomstick in hand.

Yuji blinks for a few minutes once he catches sight of you but quickly smiles wider, waving enthusiastically.

He’s seen plenty witch costumes in his life but they don’t seem to compare with yours, the lovely black and purple dress having a matching hat and broomstick to come with it.

“Woah, a witch? That’s cool, the dark purple really suits you, you know?!” He immediately starts, gaining an appreciative smile from you.

He finds himself paying more attention to your smile, the pretty shade of purple once more showing but on your lips this time.

“Oh yeah, ah, I forgot to ask about the trick or treat buckets.. Where are they again?”

NOBARA KUGISAKI- NURSE

Nobara leans forward in the mirror, enjoying putting a bit more makeup than usual.

It’s not that she couldn’t but more that there’s no reason. What’s the point of being dolled up every day anyway, it’ll just ruin the fun of it!

So she works gently on her eyeliner, making sure not to smudge it whilst her mind wanders to what you’re doing..

Probably getting ready like she is or on your way here, likely the latter since Nobara happened to be a tiny bit later in getting ready today.

The doorbell goes before she gets to dwell on it, making a classic ‘ding-dong’ sound.

“One second, I’ll be right there!” She yells down the hall, quickly getting to the door and opening it.

It reveals just who she expected, you in a rather pretty nurse costume.

“I’ll grab my bag and we can get going!”

This Halloween is definitely gonna be the best, Nobara thinks.

CHOSO KAMO- VAMPIRE

Choso crosses his arms, embarrassment itching on his face at dressing up in general.

Being half-curse meant he didn’t do these things much if not at all, getting into a skeleton jumpsuit-like outfit.

“You still sulking?” Your voice echoes the hall immediately, his face picking quickly.

You’ve always known how to calm him, even unintentionally..

“It’s just a bit itchy, I’m not sulking.” He replies, pulling at the sleeves.

You nod in understanding, meeting his gaze as he finally looks up.

“…Ah.” He murmurs, eyes trying to be discreet as he studies your outfit.

A classic vampire suit, coloured black and red with a large collar.

“Do you think it’s alright? It took ages to find an eyeshadow to match the shade of red.” You sigh, gesturing to your eyes.

Choso nods, embarrassment seeping onto him as he notices he has a small blush engulfing his cheeks now.

“I think it’s more than alright,” He says, pushing the skeleton hood up.

MEGUMI FUSHIGURO- BLACK CAT

Megumi sighs, growing bored of the high volume of noise rather easily.

He’d been dragged to this party by Nobara and Yuji to have some fun but it was anything but so far, having only felt bored the whole night.

Plus there was the fact you were apparently going to show up, likely dressed up like most people at this unpleasant party are.

“Megumi, hey!! You look pretty gloomy, you know?” A familiar voice awakens him out of his thoughts, revealing itself to be you immediately.

“I almost thought you weren’t coming.. Not that I blame you, it stinks like alcohol and sweat in here.” Megumi breathes out, taking a quick glance at you before avoiding your gaze and outfit entirely, cheeks too likely to heat up in front of you if he looked straight at you.

You chuckle and shrug, “I sort of expected something different but it’s not too bad, might loose my cat ears here though.”

He nods, he wouldn’t be surprised if anyone lost something in here, there’s people all over the place.

“So.. Wanna step outside? It’s pretty warm, you look like you’re melting.” You suggest, gaining a nod of approval from Megumi.

Maybe it isn’t so bad, at this overcrowded party, he’ll need to make sure to keep an eye out for your cat eats though..

A/n: First work, hope it’s not too boring!! Might not post for a bit after this but I do have a few drafts :D

[madaqueue]

playlists

what a waste | "army dreamers" x kate bush

synopsis: on what would have been his twentieth birthday, you visit geto's grave

pairing: suguru geto x reader

themes/content: semi-canon curse au. angst. language. death/loss.

word count: 1.3k

a/n: here's some angst bc i've been in a mood for the past few days and am allergic to being happy!

The grass is damp under your skin, the rain from this morning clinging to your clothes, the smell of wet earth lingering despite the absence of clouds in the sky. This is the closest it’s gotten to raining on this day in years, what would be a sign of late winter opening into spring, but today it just feels dreary and cold.

Sighing, you place the bouquet of lilacs - his favorites - onto the stone, careful to not cover the plaque adorning the granite. At this point you could recite it in its entirety without needing to see it, the words burned into your mind from the countless days you spent reading and rereading it, hoping that the shape of the characters would finally make it sink in.

Suguru Geto

Cherished and loved.

The epitaph still feels halfhearted, empty. Even though you and Satoru spent weeks trying to figure out what to write, everything you came up with felt hollow, unable to capture his essence. You wanted to do him justice, but you just couldn’t; he’s more than a plot of land and some words engraved in stone.

Of course, it’s a moot point: the grave is empty, anyways. After the fight against Toji, Shoko had to completely destroy his body, the risk of it being used maliciously too great. A shudder runs down your spine as you picture it, the cruelty of using your best friend’s corpse for something malevolent.

Would he notice? Would it bother him to know what had happened to his flesh? What makes a person, anyways; is it the body, or is it something else? You hope he doesn’t mind what had to happen to him after his heart quieted and his breathing stilled.

Are you at peace, Suguru?

You can’t help but wonder if, after everything, death brought him a respite from the pain he endured while alive. You knew the nature of his cursed technique, the necessary consumption of evil; in absorbing it, did it make him, too, evil? Was he plagued by the darkness he was destined to destroy?

You hope not. Despite the wickedness he witnessed, he nevertheless dreamed, hoping for a brighter future.

–

“What did you wanna be when you were a kid?” you ask through a mouthful of ramen.

Suguru sits across from you in the booth, forearms resting on the table as he eats his lunch. “What do you mean?” he questions, tilting his head ever so slightly.

“What did you want for a job? There’s no way you wanted to be a sorcerer,” you chuckle. “Like, I wanted to be one of those people who makes the cool brick patterns along sidewalks.”

He holds back a laugh at your answer. “I’m not sure, I don’t think I ever really thought about it.” He pauses, taking another bite of his food. “But I guess if I had to pick, probably a musician or something, maybe guitar, I always liked how they could make something sound beautiful with just their hands,” he muses softly.

“I could totally see you on a sick guitar,” you grin.

“Yeah, but I got my cursed technique too early. I never really got a chance to do anything but this,” he shrugs. “Maybe in another life.”

“Maybe,” you smile.

–

Now, the guitar you picked out for him, an acoustic one crafted in dark wood, sits in the back of your closet collecting dust. You were supposed to give it to him for his birthday. He was supposed to play it. He was supposed to be here, be alive, be celebrating with you.

Pain shoots up your palm as you look down, realizing your hands have been clenched into fists, your nails beginning to draw blood. Shaking out your arms you take in an uneven breath, a desperate attempt to steady yourself.

All the things he never got to do.

“I’m sorry, Suguru,” you whisper to yourself, placing a bloodied hand over the grass covering his grave.

He should be here. He never even got to turn twenty, never got to have kids or the family he wanted, hell, he was just a kid himself when he died. Just a fucking kid.

–

“That…that can’t be right,” you stammer. “There’s no way.”

“I’m sorry,” Satoru places a hand on your back, tears slowly rolling down his cheeks. “I - fuck - I couldn’t save him. I was too late.”

“No, no, no, no,” you begin to spiral, gaze rapidly shifting over the ground as you process his words.

Suguru was dead. Killed by a man named Toji Fushiguro, trying to protect the Star Plasma Vessel, the one who was supposed to assimilate with Master Tengen.

“I don’t…I don’t know what happened,” Satoru chokes out, “But…I saw his body. He’s gone.”

A scream echoes down the corridor - was it yours? Everything feels far away as Gojo wraps his arms around you, sobs racking your body as you cry into one another.

–

Shaking your head, you wipe the tears that have begun to fall as you remember the day you lost him. Despite the years that have passed, you remember it like it was yesterday, the way the setting sun covered you and Satoru as the night air came in, unable to move from that spot as you wept together.

The sickest fucking part was that it didn’t even matter.

When Riko Amanai, the Vessel, was found dead, they just got a replacement, another body to stand in for Master Tengen’s needs. They told Suguru to protect her with his life and he did, but ultimately the loss of hers was inconsequential to the upkeep of Jujutsu society; just as one flower died they plucked another.

But they couldn’t regrow Suguru’s soul.

–

Four men.

That’s how many it took to carry his body from the basement of Jujutsu High. You watched in silence as they passed you, unspeaking, unwavering, unbothered as they bore his weight.

It feels wrong, somehow, like he should be heavier. He always had this gravitational pull, this universe-sized soul that drew everything to him - shouldn’t they be able to feel that?

How heavy is a body? How heavy is the grief it carries?

–

“Hey,” a voice pulls you back to the present, the sun beginning to hang low in the sky as you ground yourself, idly tugging at the dirt beneath you. “I’m glad to see you,” Satoru greets warmly as he walks across the graveyard towards you.

Since the last time you saw him he’s aged, the creases around his eyes deeper than a twenty-year-old’s should be, an air of sadness clinging to him like wet clothes after being caught in the rain.

“You too,” you smile as he sits next to you in the damp grass.

Neither of you explicitly make plans to see each other here every year, yet you both tacitly know you wouldn’t miss this, the annual reconvening one you simultaneously cherish and dread. Suguru deserves to be celebrated, but it’s also a reminder of the time he didn’t get, the birthdays cut short when his life was stolen from him.

The two of you sit in silence for a while, content without speaking as a cool breeze picks up, dusk settling in.

“He should be here,” Satoru mutters, his knees tucked up to his chest.

“I know,” you murmur as you lay on your back, gaze unfocused on the darkening sky above you.

Another momentary pause falls between you.

“Did you love him?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you answer truthfully. “Did you?”

“Yeah.”

You let out a shaky breath. “Satoru?”

“Mhm?”

“Do you think that was enough, that we loved him?”

He tilts his head to look down at the grave that separates you, the lilacs you brought now lightly covered in a layer of dew. Sighing, he brushes away the tears that had been forming along his lash line. “I hope so.”

“I hope so, too.”

He reaches an arm out to you, holding your hand in his as you both place your empty palms onto the dirt.

“Happy birthday, Suguru,” you whisper.

[renn-aissance]

Mom Plays BG3: Ep.6 - “It’s a Woof.”

It’s been a while! Work/School/Life… yeah.

Anyway! It’s a long one today, boys.

(So a little recap of what’s kinda going on with her character! She’s been going back and forth between the Goblin Camp and the Blighted Village. So, she went and talked to Priestess Gut, but when she tried to kill her in her office an entire fight broke out so she got overwhelmed and reloaded lol. So instead she explored more, killed Minthy, talked to Halsin, and used the Waypoint to get back to the village.)

Rundown:

Shart had mentioned Shar and my mom was like “I don’t have anything against Shar worshippers if that’s what you were afraid of.”

After that she asked me if Shar was evil.

Me: “Well… I mean I guess that kind of depends on how you see her? I guess? She’s like a goddess of pain and darkness.”

Mom: “Well that doesn’t sound good. Why does she follow her?”

Me: “You told her you were cool with it.”

Mom: “I was ignorant.”

I had been WAITING for her to go to the well and she finally clicked on it.

Sees she gets an advantage as a ranger on a nature check.

Mom: “I’m a ranger! I’ve got this! Oh god please let me got this…”

Me: *starts laughing when she chooses an intelligence check to investigate.*

Mom: “WHAT. My -1 intelligence!?”

Goes down the rope

PISSES ME OFF BECAUSE SHE TOTALLY ANNIHILATED ALL OF THE FUCKING SPIDERS WHEN IT TOOK ME SO MANY RELOADS THE FIRST TIME. AND NOT ONLY THAT- THE BIG ASS SPIDER DIDN’T EVEN HATCH THE BABY ONES!!

Then Lae’zel wants to talk 🙂

This is where I’m like “okay she’s gonna be like ‘what the hell kinda games are you playing.’”

Lae’zel: “I want to taste you.”

Mom: “Uh… okay.” (Clicks no thanks.)

Queen of gently letting someone down.

Whenever the characters climb onto crates she’s like “PARKOUR!”

Clicked on a body with money.

Mom: “Yayyy! I haven’t seen money in a while.”

Me: “Same.”

She went to the windmill, guys. I was so fucking excited.

Also she keeps using the brain worm even though she doesn’t trust it lol

Went to save Barcus and was looking around the windmill. I made her do a save real quick when I saw her heading to the levers.

LAUNCHES BARCUS INTO THE FUCKING SUN.

Mom: (First, horror. Then, losing her mind) “I guess I wound up teaching him how to fly better than that other guy.”

Mom: (reloads lol)

Goes back to the Goblin Camp and talks to those goblin kids. They tell her to kick the corpse and she cracks up that she has the option to. She kicks the corpse.

Talks to Crusher and tells him he should kiss her feet. She has ZERO charisma btw. And she needs to roll a 15.

Mom: (Weighing her options.)

Me: “You don’t have any rizz.”

Mom: “I know… I GOTTA DO IT!”

ROLLS A 16

Mom: “YEAAAH!”

Crusher kisses her feet.

Mom: “He didn’t even let me take off my shoes first.”

All of the goblins just like “ew Crusher licked toes!”

She explores some more and kind of makes a circle back to where she started.

Mom: “Oh yeah, I remember this. Yeah, they’re all really mean and they’re drunk.”

She ends up going back inside and killing Gut and those goblins. She picks up the tadpole and has that option to resist it and does resist it because she still doesn’t trust the Dream Visitor.

Astarion tells her that he would be more than happy to take it off her hands.

Mom: (turns to me, whispering like he can hear her) “You know I actually wouldn’t mind if he took it.”

IT HAPPENED. ASTARION TRIED TO BITE HER IN HER SLEEP.

Astarion: “Shit.”

Mom: *Laughing like crazy. Chooses the options that are like ‘why did you lie to me, I can’t believe it. Ultimately lets him drink from her. Stops him after the first round.*

Astarion: (FERAL) “That was amazing… [blah blah blah] I thought you might turn up with torches and pitchforks… though it looks like there might still be time.”

Shadowheart: “So he’s a vampire? I should have known judging from his pallor.”

Mom: “Did you not see his fangs this whole time?”

Goes to talk to Astarion after.

Mom: “Tell me about your history.”

Astarion: “Why do you insist on exhuming the past!?”

Mom: “Hey. Take it easy.”

After leaving camp, Shart has something to say.

Shart: “There’s… something that I would like to share with you…”

Mom: “What’s with all these secrets?!”

Shart: “I want to show you something.”

Mom: “I don’t like using the parasite.” (Still let’s Sharty bae into her brain.)

It’s the memory of Shart in the woods and she sees a wolf. We had just finished watching New Girl.

Mom:

Mom: “Her hair… was this her in her anime phase?”

She goes back to the Goblin Camp to take out Dror Ragzlin. She got a little stressed out during that fight lol.

Mom: (clicks on Gale’s quaterstaff) “Will this DO anything?? I don’t know, this guy’s pretty weak.”

Mom: “HOW DO YOU MISS! YOU’RE SO CLOSE!”

Me: “I mean… it tells you when you’re too close-“

Mom: “But why do I have a disadvantage? I CAN SEE HIM.”

(Enemy goes after Wyll)

Mom: “Get away from him!”

Me: “Yeah! Get away from her boyfriend!”

Mom: “YEAH!”

She beat all of them and then went to the prison to talk to Halsin. She passes by a rat.

Mom: “A rat! Astarion, your friend!”

Me: 😀

All in all was a pretty good chunk of playtime. For one of the play throughs we didn’t even set a timer and played til like midnight. She comes over and she’s like “are we gonna play tonight :D” and bought hot Cheetos because, and I quote, “we’re gamers.”

Oh, also she met Auntie Ethel, idr if I mentioned that before, but she hasn’t gone to save Mayrina yet. She started that quest but after Ethel went into her little cave my mom went straight back to the Goblin camp. Her reaction to Ethel’s real form was “ew.”

[spirestar]

@lustraveil asked : 💋 sugushoko

Shoko sighs into the air and her fingers twitch at her side for a cigarette. She tries not to think too much about how quickly habits become a part of you. Like curses on non-sorcerers. Being forced to quit has gotten easier since Jujutsu High had new smoke detectors installed--an unnecessary expense, some of the higher ups argued, but they lost in the end--and she's been far too busy to go outside until today. Combine how few sorcerers there are now with the amount of unprecedentedly dangerous curses making their way into the world and the school is left with an extremely exhausted and burnt out healer. Only one. Shoko scoffs under her breath and digs her hands into her skirt pockets, finding only her lighter / I'm still a student you know! / She needs a fucking break.

She needs a goddamn cigarette.

"Yo," a voice calls, her vision taken up by the front of a student's uniform that matches her own. "You look terrible." Geto screws up his nose with mock disgust. Shoko hardly reacts--Only exhales into the cool night air. It feels good to have it on her skin again. She hasn't seen her classmates in days, knows they've all been just as busy.

"You look worse," she grumbles and glares up at the sky. Should've bought more with her last stipend. Maybe she should've gotten into caffeine more, cartoonish colorful energy drinks or something. Ah well, there's still time. Maybe coffee would help. Shoko considers Suguru obviously, her eyes sweeping him up and down and landing back on his face, the miserable bags under his eyes, his posture that was never so terrible before Haibara, before Toji. But these are things she's not supposed to point out. Common decency or whatever, right? Personally, corpses are starting to lose some effect on her and she's not sure how to deal with that either. "Where have you been?"

A few seconds pass before Geto leans sidles up to stand by her and watch the stars in their stillness. "Assignments. Nothing I couldn't handle." Well we both know that, Shoko thinks. He turns partway to meet her pointed look at him, the sort of look that tells him he's on notice. Casually, he shoves a hand into his own pocket and grabs something in it before freezing once he's got a hold of it. "Okay, okay, I know bribes are the only way with you when you're like this--"

Her eyes go wide with anticipation, the closest to joy she's felt in days coursing through to her fingertips so she can snatch what's surely the exact thing she needs--"I won't take back what I said just for--" She starts anyway and Geto just laughs, the sound almost silent and rough in his throat. Then she can see them. Her beautiful treat for days of work without enough sleep that have surely left her own eyes just as bloodshot as his. He holds out the carton for just long enough that her fingers graze it as she goes to take it and then he pulls them closer back to him.

"How often are you going through these?" He shakes his head once and mutters, "I hate enabling you." Shoko reaches again and takes the pack effortlessly from Suguru. He doesn't want any after all! Now that she's this close to him, though, she can see how terribly flat his smile is and how little it reaches any other aspect of his expression. His hands on the pack are limp and loose. He's only putting on an act of resistance. Not for the first time Shoko misses Geto Suguru. He's changing and she's not even sure how, just knows that it's true. She leans in to peck him on the mouth, then straightens her back and pops a cigarette between her lips.

Her lighter is in her hands before she knows it.

"Huh," he whispers the sound more than says it and blinks at her owlishly. Shoko only shrugs. She doesn't need to explain herself, in her opinion. She missed him, he gave her something she wanted, he's not going away yet, his head filled with things he won't say out loud. Maybe he doesn't trust her anymore? Nah. She won't let those kinds of thoughts get to her. They're friends. And if this bugs him, this variation on their usual invasions of each others' space--head leaning on shoulder, Shoko a starfish over Suguru while he naps on a couch, his careful trims of her bob and her fingers winding his hair back up into his comfortable bun--it's not like they'll get much time to talk about it before he's back in the infirmary to get treated for something or she's sneaking out on another break like this. She'd like to think she knows him well enough for it to be fine.

He sure looks fine, his face blanking out and ears heating up and mouth a round circle before she lights her cigarette. His eyes catch on the flame then, though. So he only smiles sheepishly and so much light flickers in his eyes again. Geto swallows as she opens her mouth to speak, clinging to every word like Shoko might be transparent about it. She is not.

"Ever heard of chapstick, Suguru?" Shoko sticks her tongue out like a little cat 'blep,' and then inhales tar. The irony isn't lost on her. He must eat his curses and she chooses to put her taste buds on hard mode. He shakes his head incredulously, clearly not answering her--just already knowing she's won this round. He'll have to come up with a better way to ask if she meant for this kiss to mean if anything. Shoko smiles smugly. Now her breath would taste much worse. It's a little funny. She bites the cigarette between her teeth and laughs, "You should invest."

[lienspien]

I feel like all the Skittles have SOME sort of weird thing that's going on with them. Tw mentions of blood and dissecting

Barty is batshit crazy. Wild, messy, and all over the place. Almost terrifying. He makes ur mom jokes and threatens to kill or hurt or fuck someone who's messing with him. He also learned how to do his own tatoos and piercings, thats why he has a new tattoo or piercing every month. He finds it fun and silly to be stabbing his ear and shoving a piercing through it, likes the sting cause it gives him adrenaline

And there's Pandora who says the most out of pocket shit. She has weird visions sometimes and seems to be everywhere and knows everything. And she's so incredibly calm while saying the wildest shit ever that it scares some people. People never hear her footsteps, and she just shows up randomly. Her voice is so calm and peaceful that it really doesn't fit her liking in scary creatures

Then Evan, who is just as off-putting as his sister. Unlike Barty, who is chaotic, he's more reserved and calm. But sometimes does creepy stuff and acts like it's normal. He is weirdly fascinated with disecting humans and animals. Also has a weird interest in teeth and dead animal corpses. He probably learned how to preserve them somehow. He has a like thing where dead butterflies are stuck to and he wakes up everyday to admire it as a way to start his day.

Dorcas has an interest in lucid dreaming and shifting and all things psychological. Sometimes she'll say stuff like "oh I sent a message to you in your dreams, you got it, right?" Most of the time, you probably won't get it, but it happens sometimes. Mostly to the slytherin Skittles and Marlene. She also learned to do nonverbal spells earlier in her years because it helps give her more control over her own mind. She has definitely learned and did research on why the imperius curse does what it does to its victims

And Regulus, though never to admit out loud, fucking loves astrology. He learned about it through Pandora, and since then he's been doing astrological readings. He just finds it cool how something like a time of birth, the position of a planet, the moon phase of your birth, and all can say a lot about a person.

Anyways it might not fit some characters but it's how I think of them and I love them this way cause imagine like Pandora walking up to Barty and say "certain plants can bloom above dead corpses" and Barty suggests that they have to see it happen for themselves

Or Dorcas coming up reg like "did you get my message?" And Regulus said "yeah, it's written in the stars that your relationship will go well don't worry and stop pestering me in my dreams"

Or Barty making a new piercing and Evan suggesting that he should make a piercing out of one of his insects legs and Barty was really close to doing it before Reg stopped them

Or Regulus catching squirrels for Pandora to keep in her little squirrel cage and have as a pet that'll probably die because Evan keeps feeding it the wrong food

Sometimes, the Skittles all get hurt except for Dorcas, and she says stuff like "yeah because the universe is protecting me. I'm their favourite mortal"

Barty getting slightly unsettled and maybe a bit flustered when he sees Evan so focused on learning how to use his new dissecting tool, just tweaking it here and there for his own liking yk

Regulus in a bad mood cause today's horoscope says that it's going to be shit.

Yeah they're weird

[victorluvsalice]

Valicer Multiamory Month, Day Ten: Meet the family (Modern AU)

We've hit the double digit days now in @polyamships's Multiamory March -- and, in a break from tradition with these "prompt fic" challenges/collections, I've stuck with the same universe for two days in a row! Mostly because when I saw today's prompt, "Meet the family," I knew I wanted to do Victor and Alice meeting Smiler's parents, Matthew and Carol Alton --

But, uh, as it turns out, I only have two universes where Matt and Carol actually show up as Smiler's parents -- the Modern AU and Valicer In The Dark. And I'd actually already written VITD Victor and Alice meeting Matt and Carol as part of the last chapter of "A Murder Shared Is A Murder Thirded" (said last chapter is not actually UP at the time of posting, but still). So Modern AU it was! XD Anyway, here's the trio arriving at the door of Matt and Carol's place, with Victor and Alice about to make an interesting discovery about the pair...

(Oh, and for reference: Carol mentioning Victor getting a special dip with no artichokes is a reference to the original "Meet The Family" set of Not-Incorrect Quotes, where Victor revealed he's allergic to artichokes in response to Smiler texting their mum to make her artichoke dip. The allergy itself is a headcanon based off an old Corpse Bride storyboard. *thumbs up*)

--

“Smiler!”

“Hey, Mum! Dad!”

Victor stared as Smiler practically threw themselves at their parents, wrapping them in a hug that was eagerly reciprocated. Wow...you’d never get away with that in my family, he thought, biting his lip. Mother would consider it so lower-class to actually show affection to her only child, and Father would be more interested in making some terrible joke that wouldn’t land at all… His eyes went to Alice, watching the scene with a sad, nostalgic smile. Then again, at least I have parents, so maybe I shouldn’t complain.

Smiler pulled away from their folks after a moment, grinning to beat the band – though, admittedly, they did that on a regular basis anyway. “Great to see you guys again! I’m really looking forward to this!”

“It’s great to see you!” Smiler’s father – Matt, if Victor remembered correctly – agreed, smile as bright as his child’s. He promptly turned it on Victor and Alice, walking toward them with arm outstretched. “And it’s a delight to meet you two at last! Matthew Alton!”

“Victor Van Dort,” Victor said, taking his hand (and privately hoping his handshake was firm enough). “And this is Alice Liddell.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” Alice nodded, offering her own hand in turn.

“Oh, the pleasure is all ours,” Matt assured her, pumping both their arms. “Smiler’s told us so many wonderful things about you two!”

“Anyone who makes them so happy is more than welcome in our home!” Smiler’s mother – Carol, yes – added, coming to join her husband.

“I’m glad to hear–”

Victor blinked as he realized he had to look down rather farther than he’d though to meet Carol’s eyes. “That,” he finished lamely. What – she barely comes up to Matt’s shoulder! I haven’t met anyone so short since Lord Everglot! And that was back in Burtonsville, where I’m used to people being odd sizes! Does she think I’m looming? I hope not… He hunched down slightly, trying to reduce his six-foot-three by a few inches. “T-they’ve told us a lot of n-nice things about you too.”

“Yes – I’m rather looking forward to experiencing you in the flesh, not just secondhand,” Alice said, cool as a cucumber – though Victor spotted her eyes flicking between the pair.

“Oh, us too,” Carol said, beaming. She turned and waved them through the door. “Come on in – we’ve got plenty of nibbles! And don’t worry, Victor, I made a special dip for you. No artichokes, I promise.”

“Thank you.” Victor watched as she went inside with Smiler and Matt, then nudged Alice. “She’s in heels!”

“I noticed! Tall ones too!” Alice shook her head, then smiled at him. “Well – makes our height difference look normal, doesn’t it?”

“I suppose – at least they seem nice.” Victor took a steadying breath, then started in. “Let’s just hope this goes better than when I first met Victoria’s parents.”

[bloxtopia-adventures]

Working on the comic now (it’s going to be a bit different from how I usually draw and…you can definitely see I took influence from Block Tales with it) so in the meanwhile, I’m going to just put some headcanons/fun facts about all the party members

- Pales is actually half robloxian, the other half used to be human but then he got himself cursed to become a dragon. The curse itself interacted weirdly with him though due to him being somewhat made of code and the curse not being code based so it didn’t completely take hold…though, it’s beginning to acclimate to its host. Anyway this is actually one of the reasons his player ID hasn’t gotten taken from him by Disasters, because it’s entangled with a bunch of stuff that isn’t code and thus if it was actually removed it wouldn’t really be of much use.

-Pilby was the first party member to be afflicted with a status affect, specifically they got hit with the one that makes one laugh hysterically

-Split has apparently been hanging out with Pest. She has given Spud! An empty can as a gift, she roasted Pilby’s singing voice and she keeps going behind her teammates when “things look sketchy”. I did not mean to make her an asshole I just made her laid back-

-Every time the “Goblin soup” interaction happens it’s with Spud!, except for one time with Pales who already had it with him and liked it. “Goblin soup” isn’t actually made from Goblins (Pales is the only one who can make food from monsters, seeing as they crumble immediately after the id’s are removed), but is instead something Spud! And Sarah, though he doesn’t remember her much, made when they were kids. He may not remember why he likes it so much, but it brings a sense of comfort, like his bucket.

-The “Team c00lkidd join today” text on c00lkidd is always there because a long time ago he went into his own code and programmed it so that it would always be there no matter what. No one can remove it. Even c00lkidd tried at some point, but he could not understand a single strand of the spaghetti code he used to make it possible anymore

-007n7 is in a sort of situationship with Mafioso. 118o8 is also involved because I learned of her existence after I made Bluudud Mafioso’s son and uh…Woops, new ship. Their relation is “This is my husband Mafioso, and this is Mafioso’s boyfriend 007n7”. She isn’t with n7 but she is with Mafioso. Iceburgerbun.

-Chance still has his flintlock but it’s actually completely broken. Like. It won’t shoot at all broken, not even exploding in his hand. It’s why he’s been using a dagger rather than just, shoot the monsters.

-Banhammer is the oldest party member, c00lkidd both likes to make fun of him for this but also sort of looks up to him because “woah cool demon guy!”.

-Scythe‘s defection from the church was the result of a lot of things. First, Medkit and Broker both died due to the church deciding they outlived their usefulness/were liabilities, she got cursed by a target and decided to get rid of it herself out of impatience…then it turned out the church had also cursed her (inspired by The Truth Within Regret au by 🎩 anon on @/phightingaus) to be loyal to them, and the first thing she thought to do was immediately just run off.

-Coil has a brother! Not from before his “improvement” though. They’re a person who was in a similar circumstance as him, having once been a demon, turned into a Biograft…but his brother has absolutely no memory of before, Coil at least has vague recollections of the past, but unlike Coil, his brother was a corpse before his “improvement” and his head got removed so…yeah. His name is Psigraft. Coil also technically has a -graft name but he doesn’t really use it much (it’s Taugraft)

[raevenlywrites]

Todays listen of the Magnus Archives starts with ep 116: the Show Must Go On and continues through 117: Testament, 118: Masquerade, 119: stranger and stranger, and finally 120: Eye Contact

The Show Must Go On

Oh fuck, Elias doing something active? Perish the thought

-

Oh. oh no. this is the stranger's ritual, isn't it? the turk is wearing the gorilla skin, the automata are the dancers and the birds are the choir

Okay. So... the Slaughter came to stop it, along with the Desolation? I'll admit it's hard to make much sense out of the nonsense of the ritual almost completed

-

"When the unknowing begins i don't want to be inside it" is there another option?

-

"An aspect of your becoming" becoming? that doesn't sound safe, sane, or consensual...

"so you have a backup" says basira, the one I actually think might be the best backup

"melaine's not coming either, I think she'll need you here" oh shit, are martin and melaine going to kill elias?

-

"bought it" well shit

Testament

ooooh like last will and. gotcha

(I do really love how all these titles make multiple kinds of sense. so jealous of their ability to title things XD)

oh shit they got gertrude AND leitner???! fuck

-

"How did I wind up having to save the world" fucking mood girl

-

Melaine! you're alive! I've been getting worried about you

well shit. I guess they're not trying to *kill* him. Doesn't meant melaine won't got for it anyways tho :P

man, it's a shame there's nothing out there feeding on anger, bc melaine would be an absolute *feast*

martin! my baby boy <3

(I do feel pretty confident I'd love him even without the tumblr of it all. he's a good bean)

bless! I love how aware martin is of what jon might think of him. it's cute

"I get to burn some stuff so that's cool" martin! what are you up to???

-

daisy wtf? XD

-

oooh, interesting that everyone else is talkign to jon but Tim has a massive hate on for us (or whatever in world listener there is)

wow. tim is really the most audience addressy/meta of them all. that's really interesting comign from such a joker to start with. i wonder how much of his arc was planned from the start

-

oh jon. i'm sorry. you have to burn it. you promised. this is an important moment about who you're going to be

jesus. is it literally hurting him to destroy knowledge? fuck

The Masquerade

Holy shit martin are you burning statements!!!! does that hurt elias like burning gerry hurt jon?

(I wonder if the ones he's choosing matters. hilltop road, smerk passages, monster pig, hrm)

"Turns out my suggestion is fire" XDXDXDXD

(the dark and teh swartzwald)

-

oh. oh god. a chorus of skinless moaning ...corpses? ick. so much ick.

-

oh martin :(

(this section is where I had to stop listening at work, btw. I got caught up in thinking about what Elias would show me and uh, yeah)

-

Oh shit! Did Daisy just shoot jon????? ...will it even matter? he's... becoming, whatever that means

Stranger and Stranger

Oh fuck, did Helen come rescue Jon into the spiral- oof, nope. That's not Helen, doesn't sound right. Doesn't sound like Nicola either though - and it CERTAINLY doesn't sound like fucking Tim >:(

oh shit. we definitely don't want whoever that is to have the detonator...

-

and that's NOT basira. ...honestly, if its anyone, it sounds like Breekon/Hope...

-

shit. okay. that's tim and basira, or at least that's their VA's

No, I think that one actually is basira. I stand by my idea that she's been in archivist training, whether on purpose or not

-

ooooh now THATS nicola!

oh no! and THATS gertrude- oh, right, they have her skin. oh no. which means leitner is probably just around the corner

(poor jonny sims, having to listen to his parents tell him he failed and he sucks XD)

-

damn. i wonder if basira has any experience with like, normal delusions (...are there normal delusions in this world? like, just normal, actual schizophrenia? or is it all supernatural?) anyways she's doing great. If I didn't know Jon survived to get to the Jon/Martin ending, I'd wonder if we weren't teeing up Basira to be the next Archivist

-

tim! you see jon? good job tim!!

Okay. So. Daisy is the Hunt, Basira is the Eye, Tim is... channeling something. Maybe all that time he spent studying Smerk? The Spiral isn't enjoying being Helen, Sarah is not enjoying this transition, and Nikola, wearing Gertrude and Leitner... just got blown up?

Eye Contact

These punnnnnns

"Statement of Elias Bouchard, regarding the dreams of Jonathan Sims, Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute, currently unresponsive. Details pulled directly from subject." ....well fuck me

Jon... oh jon, what happened to you?

"nowhere for him to awaken to" shit, did the world end? will the last two seasons be in a broken world?

...has he been cut off from the world, or the world cut off from the other fears?

-

ooooh, arresting him. I guess that makes sense

-

lukas? what is he doing here---- oh fuck. when he was asking martin about how elias was as a boss, was he *planning* a take over????

*sigh* of course elias planned it

-

whelp. that's season 3. doesnt' sound like the world ended, but doesn't sound like jon is okay. it sounds like he's exactly where elias thinks he needs to be, but who knows if that's a good thing or not *sigh*

so. elias is probably trying to usher in the Eye's ritual. Using jon, i'd guess. maybe jon is beholding the other fears so the eye can eat them. who knows.

this season was exhausting. good, bu exhausting. much more emotionally taxing than 1 or 2. I can't decide if I want to take another break or not. we'll see

[heatwa-ves]

Hi Tia how r u doing. I have a long ass drive today that I'm not looking forward to... tell me about your jojos

yayyy gonna talk about hot pants because she's been on my mind lately. first of all yeah her name is hot pants from the james brown song it's deeply unserious but also I kinda respect it like she chose it herself as an alias and you gotta be a certain type of person to pull off being called hot pants. i have my own theories as to what her actual name is (helena pucci you are so dear to me) but she's only ever referred to as hot pants in canon.

so the whole plot of part 7 is that there's a load of people doing a pan continental horse race from san diego to new york in 1890 and along the way the main characters find part of a corpse and it gives them stands basically and so we have four or five groups trying to find all these corpse parts for their own goals johnny the main character is trying to find them because he thinks the corpse could help him regain the ability to walk after he was injured pre canon the president wants it because he sucks and loves america and jesus (the corpse is jesus btw) and thinks all these other backwards nations don't deserve the corpse of jesus christ diego is going after it for shits and giggles tbh hes vaguely working for the president but tbh hes just here to get paid

and hot pants she's a nun of the vatican and she's here on behalf of the vatican to find the corpse and take it back to the pope where it belongs I guess. except she's actually trying to get it because she's desperate for salvation and she thinks the corpse will save her from her sins

what sins, you may be asking. well when she was younger she and her little brother were in the woods for whatever reason I think they were picking berries idk and they were attacked by a bear and she survived and her brother didn't. she says that she killed him she pushed him towards the bear in order to escape herself but it's unclear how much of her own recollection of stuff is clouded by self hatred and time she's at least ten years older now than she was then probably more tbh . I imagine it was something like they were running and got separated and he fell behind and she couldn't go back for him or she would've died too she turned back and saw the bear kill him and had to just keep running despite his screams or something like that idk you could extrapolate a lot from here but I don't think she deliberately killed him I think that's something she's internalised and can't move on from. so she returns home and everyone is really sympathetic about the accident and the loss of her brother but because she blames herself so heavily she can't bring herself to be around all these people who love her she feels she doesn't deserve it and so she becomes a nun to get away from her family and try to atone for her sins. at some point she ends up moving to the vatican and then joins the race (at 23!!! she should be at the club!!)

so yeah shes in the race and she's a pretty important supporting character in her first appearance she rides up to johnny and gyro and is like hi im gonna fucking kill you because you killed my cow. she had a cow I guess . I don't really know why. yeah they didn't kill her cow but she's violence first questions later type of guy and so she does nearly kill them with her stand which is uhh. it's an aerosol and it shoots flesh out 👍 she does some pretty cool stuff with it tbh but that's not the point here anyway gyro thinks she's a man at this point which good for her I respect the gender game she's playing. anyway then the three of them get stuck in a timeloop and she passed out and johnny is like omg she's a woman that's cool and doesn't tell gyro because gyro hates women and johnny is the world's first feminist and them they steal her sandwiches and leave. thinking about this arc I missed out a lot because its mostly a gyro arc hp is just there it's her first appearance but she doesn't do that much

she shows up again later when the two of them are like 30 seconds away from death fixes them up with her flesh spray and steals all the corpse parts they had collected by this point she does some more stuff etc implicates herself so now she's wanted by the government and then my fav arc begins it's mostly about johnny and it's brilliant but hp is also here. they end up at a church and hp is there but she's in her nun clothes idr what it's called and gyro doesn't recognise her because he's incapable of being normal about women and he just fucks off to do whatever meanwhile johnny is talking to her and there's this scene which im soooooooooooooo obsessed with

in my beautiful world they fall in love post canon but . well. I'll get to that later and she doesn't answer him she says they're all about to die she's being taken over by this stand ability called civil war which is really really interesting it's basically like. anything the person it's targeting feels grief over comes back to haunt them and idrk how to explain what that's like ill just show u but it's pretty on the nose symbolism about hps whole character and offers pretty interesting insights onto johnny and gyro too

actually forget that im gonna talk about her and johnny they make me sick and somehow no one else sees how good their relationship is. they're really similar they both blame themselves for the deaths of their brothers but while hps family loved her so much she couldn't bear it and ran away johnnys dad said to his face yeah the wrong son died which is like. insane. hello. to your son's face. anyway they're both driven by this desire for something to save them it's like uh yk that post that goes "I hope one day they do a test on me and find out im deficient in some type of vitamin and I'm put on vitamin supplements and that solves every problem ive ever had" it's like that they want this corpse to save them but it CANT because nothing can save them but themselves johnny thinks if he's able to walk again his life will go back to how it was and a) it won't because this journey has irreparably changed him and b) he cant regain the ability to walk he can't and the problem is he can't accept that he's driven by this faith in something that can't save him and the same for hot pants she thinks of she can find the corpse it will save her from her sins but she has to be the one to move past her sins no one else can heal her theres not a switch that when flipped will fix her

she will always carry this grief with her always always and she has to learn to live with that but she's so deep in her own self loathing that all she's thought about in years is how she's a sinner in need of a saviour she has to be her own saviour she has to move on and she CANT she's been static all these years the grief is as raw as it was ten years ago arfghghhlgkfgkaglalgw however unfortunately for us all araki is incapable of writing a good ending to her (and johnnys) arcs because he regains the ability to walk magically thanks to the corpse of jesus christ and she dies in pursuit of salvation which is pointless because thats what she WANTS!!!!!

she'd rather die a martyr than live a sinner and by killing her off (pointlessly and pretty much off screen. Btw ) it ruins what her whole arc was building up toooooo god I'm so mad about this. it's fine in my beautiful world she survives and reunites with johnny after the events of canon and they travel to italy together and johnny is still disabled and they get close and grow as people and he becomes the first person she's let herself really be close to and they Get eachother and have a level of mutual respect from when they first meet and every subsequent meeting adds to that and they need another slower journey where they're not fighting for their lives all the time to address what they've been through and who they are and who they will be aghhjhj this needs to be a longfic so bad if I wasn't the worlds slowest and least motivated writer

I was gonna talk about the rest of civil war arc and her relationship with diego but it's 11:30 pm I have work in the morning and I've talked more than enough goodbye I hope this was understandable

[dorothygale123]

LAST TIME ON CHINESE MYTHOLOGY KAI!

The water god Gonggong was a sore loser and decided to make everyone suffer because of it, destroying Mount Buzhou with his thick head and causing the heavens to fall. Luckily, the great goddess Nuwa was able to repair the sky with a combination of molten rock and severed limbs, but the mortal world is still in great peril.....

Ah, the flood myth. A staple in most Indo-European myths from Noah to Utnapishtim. The widespread prevalence of such a specific myth structure implies there was an actual flood of massive proportions in that part of the world, and here we see evidence that it may have gone as far as East Asia. Most flood myths are focused on the idea of a cleansing apocalypse, with the gods becoming angry at how sinful humanity is and wanting to start over. While there are versions of the Chinese flood myth with this same inciting incident, many also blame Gonggong knocking down the heavens as the cause. For our purposes today it doesn't really matter how or why it happened, just that there's water everywhere.

According to one of my sources, the flood actually takes place directly after the debacle with the 10 Suns, which had gotta be a real kick in the teeth. Like, we just got rid of the unbearable heat and yeah, we did want water, but not THIS MUCH! As a side note, perhaps this can give a bit of context as to why Gonggong and Zhurong were fighting. It may have had something to do with the devastation caused by the suns and how to fix it, with Gonggong losing and then trying to do things his way anyway in the most needlessly destructive way possible.

Anyway, no matter the reason there's water water everywhere and not a drop to breathe, so humans are unsurprisingly drowning. Seeing this, the human emperor decided to try and find someone who could help. Nuwa was apparently taking a nap or something after fixing the sky, so he had to find someone else. He ends up going to this guy named Gun, apparently the grandson of the Yellow Emperor. Gun get the idea to go to the heavens and steal some divine dirt, much like Prometheus. However, also like Prometheus, he's caught and punished for his theft. Even worse, he doesn't even get to use his magic dirt and full on dies. Yikes. Supposedly his executioner was Zhurong, who started this whole mess in the first place by fighting with Gonggong. Great work bud, super helpful.

Luckily, Gun's death wasn't the end as he was apparently.... pregnant, I guess? Because after his corpse had been sitting there a while a healthy baby boy popped out, ready to take on the world! This boy was Yu the Great, a significant Chinese culture hero and mythical Emperor. Due to his achievements later in this myth, he is also called Yu the Engineer.

So Yu is born out of his dad's corpse, and apparently even though Gun was executed for stealing the magic dirt it wasn't actually confiscated, so Yungets his hands on is pretty quick. Either that or the current ruler of the heavens just... likes Yu more, I guess? And gives him some magic dirt. I think it would be cool if Nuwa snuck him some of the stuff becuase she thought the ruler of the heavens was being stupid and she didn't want the humans she'd created to all die becuase of the stick up his butt. Either way, Yu has some and starts spreading it around. Wherever the dirt touches the flood waters, it creates new land for people to stand on. He uses the new land to make dams, likes, and canals to guide the waters to the ocean.

In some tellings, Yu uses a large staff to measure the waters as he controls the flood. This is yet another possible origin story for the Ruyi Jingu Bang that Sun Wukong stole borrowed from Ao Guang. This is why some scholars speculate that the Monkey King is the reincarnation of Yu the Great. Personally I'm not that into it and prefer Wukong to just be his own special kind of wierdo, but it's a legitimate theory. You decide whether you like it or not.

Anyway, the flood waters recede and humanity can finally get back to their normal life.

For real this time.

Probably.

Sh*tpost Masterlist