#because while hes powerful hes not omnipotent

[magioffire]

i just saw a really good post talking about how its kinda unfair to expect everyone to cow down to your muse just because they are powerful and roleplay has never worked like that where everyone is just expected to be submissive towards another muse just because they are evil/powerful/whatever. or they will purposely misinterpret aspects of your muse to make theirs look better or?? something. like. fucking earn the respect and fear.

[arisenreborn]

@ritens

FAWIGJWA SO YES? and also "pending".

tldr: it's either dragonsplague (red eye) or... he lost an eye and the one he has now is a 'gift' (and curse) from a former Arisen (white eye) or BOTH.

(you dont have to read all of this you've just given me an excuse to ramble thank you)

So OG Rann had a "magitech" eye that basically acted as a repository for any and all knowledge he gained. Which... doesn't quite work in DD. But that's still part of his design! So I kept it.

And then DD2 was like "actually there's this whole thing with Dragonsplague and red eyes" and I'm sitting here with my face in my hands because that'd be such an easy solution to reach for and I love dragonsplague stuff

But I also have "secret lore" that... (bear with me here), this is Rann's third go-around in this world (DD2). It's not exactly a time loop (I think) but there's some distortion of reality/time, and most significantly what he remembers.

First "Cycle" is with Reverie

They get pulled into Bitterblack Isle where they met the Arisen Vincent (important OC also connected to them)

Stuff Happened There: Reverie Kind of Maybe Died? Rann might have Dragonsplagued?

????

Vincent and Rann emerge from Bitterblack Isle for his "second" go

Vincent and Rann uncovered a lot of truths about the world and came close to the Unmoored World, but their goal was to save Reverie (Rann's memories were already messed up from Bitterblack Isle, only Vincent knew this because... that's usually his burden to bear, being the only one to remember :')

BUT TO WRAP THIS UP, the idea I'm fiddling with is: They did find a way to restore Reverie for this third go-around, Vincent became the Dragon, and Rann ended up with either:

lost right eye and was given one of Vincent's eyes that "beheld the truth of the world" (as a nod to his OG eye being a repository of knowledge) and plays into the True Ending or

he had dragonsplague or

both😂

(Also the eye from Vincent might be connected to the Bestowal of Spirit from him somehow idk 🤷‍♀️ This is how Vincent lives on, even if it's not a 'true' bestowal of spirit like we've seen in other versions, granting Rann a will but not necessarily overwriting his individuality. 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️) dragon dies = bestowal activates/finalizes

[phoenixkaptain]

I love it when pre Original Trilogy era shows how much effort went into making the Death Star. It took decades, literal decades, and it took so much money and so many people and it was such a secretive thing and it’s staffed by millions because it’s the size of a small moon.

I cannot express how much all of the added information makes it so much funnier that Luke blew it up.

Luke destroys literally everything Palpatine built. He blows up the Death Star, which was referenced in universe as early as the second movie. He blew up the weapon of mass destruction twenty years in the making. And he blew it up pretty much directly after it’s first and only successful attack. It was operational for fifteen minutes, fifteen minutes that Palpatine had the thing he’d been building for longer than Luke has been alive, and Luke blows it up. First day retirement, but first hour retirement.

Luke convinces Darth Vader to turn back to the light side, a feat thought literally impossible by literally everybody. Sidious clearly doesn’t see Vader’s betrayal coming. Vader’s betrayal was not in his plans, nor was it something he was prepared for. Sidious is a powerful Force user with all four limbs while Vader is a man in the tin can Palpatine put him in. If Palpatine had seen Vader turning coming, he would not have allowed it to happen.

Luke literally should not even be alive. Palpatine almost definitely got Padme out of the way on purpose, and he almost certainly was trying for her unborn child as well (there was way too big of a risk that a cute liddol bebe would bring some humanity back to Anakin, and Palpatine did not want Anakin to have any humanity) Luke living is literally the first step in Palpatine’s ultimate downfall, especially once Vader finds out that Luke is his son. His very alive son. His son that is not dead, despite Palpatine claiming Anakin killed Padme. Implying that Anakin killed Padme and she posthumously gave birth. But, she didn’t give birth on Mustafar, which was the last place Anakin interacted with her. And once the mother dies, you have to get those fuckers out fast or they die too.

I imagine Darth Vader piecing all of this together is that meme with all the math floating around his head, because how could Padme have died by his hand and then given birth like two hours later?

Luke killing Palpatine is what ultimately leads to the dissolution of the Empire as an omnipotent entity. Luke killed the Empire. Luke spends a good amount of his adult life killing Empire remnants. We see that in the Mandalorian, since he’s so recognizable that Gideon immediately knows he’s fucked just by seeing an X-wing. We read it in Legends’ continuity, where Luke terrifies Imperials because he can walk into their changing room and stand in their for a minute and they don’t even notice.

Luke destroyed Palpatine’s life’s work. Everything Palpatine spent his whole life working towards, and Luke kills all of it. He blows up not one, but two Death Stars (he may not have pulled the trigger on the second Death Star, but without him, it never would have been destroyed). He convinces not one, but multiple Sith and Dark Jedi to return from the Dark Side. He is the only reason that Obi-Wan Kenobi, the biggest pain in Palpatine’s ass ever born, lives long enough to make it to the Death Star.

Palpatine went through so much effort. And just when he had finally won, when he finally had a weapon capable of destroying entire planets with a single blast, making it impossible for any planets or peoples to go against him, Luke shows up nineteen years late to the Jedi party with space Starbucks and a droid twice his age and almost singlehandedly destroys everything Palpatine ever had a hand in creating.

Luke manages to become even worse than Obi-Wan Kenobi, the ultimate thorn in the side of politicians, and Luke doesn’t even understand any politics. He wasn’t trained in diplomacy like Obi-Wan and Leia, no, he’s a farmboy who left home for the first time in his entire life, just this morning. And he is the one to destroy the Empire.

If they rewrote Star Wars and had it entirely from Palpatine’s perspective, Luke Skywalker would be his greatest foe. Luke Skywalker would be the final boss. Luke Skywalker is the antithesis of everything Palpatine believes in and he is the one character that Palpatine cannot predict. He isn’t as moldable as Anakin, he doesn’t respond to threats very well, he’s apparently impossible to kill via Force lightning (still the funniest scene of all times, the progression of Palpatine’s face falling and him looking like “what the fuck??? Is this kid rubber??? I’ve electrocuted him eight times???”), his unwavering faith in his father’s goodness makes Darth Vader want to be a better person, Luke Skywalker is the big bad of Palpatine’s story and—

There is nothing in this world that is funnier than someone’s biggest antagonist being Luke fucking Skywalker. Luke Skywalker, who saved the galaxy with the power of love and who shouldn’t exist, by Jedi rules and by Palpatine’s own attempts, and whose best friends are literally droids, which Palpatine canonically hates!

Everything about this is hilarious, this is the funniest thing in all of media, Palpatine loses absolutely everything to some backwater farmboy who fucking likes droids.

[utahimeow]

to bind a god — satoru gojo

summary — satoru gojo lets you tie him up.

pairing — satoru gojo x f!reader

warnings — nsfw content. minors dni. bondage, femdom, sub!gojo, established relationship (reader and gojo are married), degradation, praise, edging, choking, slight dacryphilia, handjob, oral (f receiving), implied subspace, creampie

word count — 6k

author’s note — this was not supposed to be six thousand words long

To most, the idea of restraining Satoru Gojo seems inconceivable.

A being so powerful that he’s as close to omnipotent as a human can get. One who can bend reality to his will. Even to touch him, to come close enough to make contact with him– an impossible task.

So how does one restrain Satoru Gojo?

You ask him nicely.

Play with his powder-white hair as he lays in your lap, scratch at his scalp until powder white eyelashes flutter shut and he’s humming, content. Get him right where you want him to be. And then, dangle his undying love for you over his head. It works every time.

“Baby?” you muse.

“Hmm?”

“You know how you love me so much? In sickness and in health? Till death do us part?” It’s not entirely uncommon for you to remind him of the very words you had repeated to one another the day you became forever bound to one another. And before you had made your vows to one another, it was some other twisted way of getting exactly what you wanted. In truth, however, batting your eyelashes at Satoru was usually enough. 

Your husband’s eyes flicker open and he gazes up at you, one thin white eyebrow raised pointedly. He sighs then, even rolling his eyes a little, ever so dramatic. “Yes, my dear wife, you know I'd do anything for you.”

“So then, you’ll let me tie you up and edge you, right?”

He barks out one of his booming, obnoxious laughs. As if you’ve just said the most impossible, unfathomable, unimaginable thing. 

He sits up, still laughing, searching your face for a sign that you’re joking. He doesn’t find it. 

“I’m being serious, Satoru.” 

His cerulean irises, the very ones that hold an ancient power so immense that it seems like a myth, widen. He audibly gulps and his Adam’s apple bobs. Yet amidst his off-put reaction, something else lingers. Something that tells you he just needs a little extra push.

“Come on, I mean… think of all the things I let you do with me, baby,” you reason. Not that Satoru’s particularly into anything obscure. Rather, the intensity of the way he takes you usually leaves you recovering for days– because you love when he does. Naturally, he’ll use toys, or a blindfold, or handcuffs, but never anything as ‘serious’ as bondage. And sure, he assumes the dominant role, but that’s only because you enjoy having him in charge of your pleasure. It’s never any kind of formal dominance or submission, either. No titles, no punishments– outside of being playful, that is. 

The final blow is, in fact, when you bat your eyelashes and pout at him. 

Of course, he agrees. Because you’re you, and he’s him, a man not immune to a little sweet talk from his wife.

And of course, he does point out the elephant in the room – he’s the strongest human being in existence. What’s to stop him from slipping out of the ropes? He could do so without so much as blinking an eye.

“Just pretend, dummy! No teleporting, no breaking or dissolving the ropes into thin air, no nothing,” you tell him. Without a doubt, you assure him that these come with the exception that if Satoru needs to escape, by all means he may escape – an alternative to a safeword. 

Thus, two weeks later, Satoru kneels in the centre of your shared California king bed. He’s bare as the day he was born, his body sculpted like a divine statue, the manifestation of years of sorcery displayed in the way each muscle has been carved to perfection.

A tiny smirk sits on his face as he observes your concentrated state. Your lip is trapped between your teeth while you weave strands of rope together into neat patterns over Satoru’s chest, torso, arms, thighs. His arms are pulled behind his back, bound together by delicate knots. His steady breathing orchestrates your movements, and when you catch his gaze you pause just to admire him for a moment. Your heart swells with warmth, with debilitating affection for him.

Before long, you’ve weaved the rope into perfection. You take a step back from the bed, away from his kneeling form, to drink in your masterpiece. 

The rope slithers over his body, milk-white skin tainted by sanguine red. It’s not tight enough to squeeze, yet his biceps seem to swell between the gaps. The strand that runs down the middle of his chest and underneath leaves his pectorals bulging and you’re filled with the urge to bite and mark him. To claim him as yours. As if he’s not already wrapped up like a present for you. As if he’s not wearing a ring that pledges his soul to yours.

You’re rather impressed with yourself, too. It’s not bad at all for your first time, although technically you’ve spent weeks practising on anything limb-shaped whilst your husband was out of the house. None of it is particularly intricate, yet somehow you think that, had it been any of the more detailed patterns you’d seen on the web, he would not look so breathtaking. 

“Well? Is it everything you imagined?” Satoru quips, pulling you from your trance.

You narrow your eyes, questioning why you presumed that being tied up would ever stop him from running his mouth when even a ball gag would be useless on him. You nod though, humming in affirmation. It’s the last bit of satisfaction he’ll get from you. 

“You look pretty, Satoru,” you say, and it’s genuine, yet there’s a flutter in his belly at the teasing edge in your voice. “It doesn’t hurt anywhere?”

“No, ma’am,” he grins.

“Good. I’ll be back in a second,” you tell him before you prance off to your walk-in closet where two little pieces of lace await you. 

Satoru can’t be the only one all dressed up, after all. 

When you return, you’re in a bustier top, with lace and frills and tiny ribbons, and a matching thong– red, to match the ropes that decorate your husband’s body like ornaments. Satoru’s grinning like a pervert, devouring you with his eyes, his cock twitching and leaking as it hangs between his thighs. 

“Oh, look at you,” he says with a gaze filled with awe. Heat crawls to every corner of your body, but you swallow the urge to melt from his words and maintain your composure. “You got yourself a little outfit?”

You nod, mischief flashing across your face. “Since you were so kind and generous to let me tie you up, I thought I’d treat you a little.”

“Fuck, I’m lucky, heh?”

Tilting your head, you step closer to Satoru once more, his eyes like rhinestones glimmering with far too much arrogance for your liking. He has no idea what you have in mind. Or maybe he does, and he’s naive enough to think it won’t have any effect on him. 

You kneel on the bed in front of him, leaning in until you’re mere millimetres away from his face and your breath is warm on his lips. 

But you don’t kiss him. And when he sways forward, trying to catch your lips with his, you pull away.

“Aw, come on, baby. I can’t even get a kiss?” He’s pouting. Unfortunately for him, it’s a habit of his that you’ve grown resistant to.

“Say please,” you say.

His smile only grows, devilish and knowing. Then, a “please?”

Your hand lands at the base of his neck when you press into him, your lips meeting his softly, tongue dipping into his mouth just barely, just enough to keep him wanting more. The hand that sits on his clavicles begins inching down, sliding over the rope you so carefully placed. 

Feather-light, you brush a single fingertip against the head of Satoru’s dick which now stands upright between his legs. He shivers instantly, ever so sensitive to any touch, but especially sensitive because it’s you.

He did grow up with no choice than to be self-indulgent, after all. To cling to anything remotely good, even if he has to be a little selfish about it. So he clings to pleasure. He clings to your sighs and moans, to the way you wrap around him, to your hips and thighs, to every part of you. It’s made him far too spoiled. 

Your finger traces down his shaft, over the unforgiving veins, along his flushing skin. Your hand wraps around him then, fingertips hardly touching, and he groans into your mouth. 

“Eager?” you taunt. His eyes dart to your lips as you pull away from his face, watching the way they’ve become slick with honey-like spit. 

“You really can’t blame me,” he replies. 

You chuckle, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip and settling onto your knees in the spot next to him.

Satoru’s gaze drops down to the way your first wraps around his cock. Just as quickly, you lift his head back up, fingers under his chin until his eyes meet yours.

“Eyes on me,” you say. Something behind his irises bubbles, clawing at the surface. Still, he’s grinning.

When your hand starts to move, he sucks in a breath. Even if it’s achingly slow and barely enough to cause any stimulation, the relief that lies in being touched by you is enough. 

“You always take such good care of me,” you tell him, batting your eyelashes so sweetly at him. “Let me do the same for you, won’t you?”

He hums, long and drawn out, and your thumb glides over his tender tip. As you smooth over the slit, you shouldn’t be surprised when your fingers become damp with his arousal. 

“Already wet, huh?” 

“Well, you know what you do to me,” Satoru says, with a slight drawl in his words already, cheeks heating.

Maybe that’s part of it, but you also have no doubt that the ropes that frame his arms and torso are starting to coil around his mind too. Promising to take him to a space he’s never been to before.

So soon.

You drag your fist up and down, inch by inch, having no intention of speeding up. Not for a while anyway. He’s much too used to getting anything he wants from you.

He’ll try to pretend he’s patient. That’s fine. You’ll work him until he’s no longer pretending.

You ghost your lips against his jaw, along the column of his neck, nipping at his marble-white skin until there’s a mark or two left behind. Your teeth graze at his earlobe and he shivers. Something in your brain clicks when he does– the thought of him writhing beneath you makes you dizzy. 

You’ll get him there, you assure yourself. The slower the better.

Ever so slightly though, you pick up your pace, pumping him a little quicker now. 

“How’s that feel, Satoru?” you ask, a mix between taunting and the genuine desire to hear his affirmation.

“Feels real good,” he breathes, still grasping onto steadiness, refusing to let his tone waver.

The next time your hand slides up his cock, you squeeze a little harder, like a reward for his surprising lack of sarcasm. His breath hitches slightly when you do, leaving you grinning.

Every pearl of precum that drools from the slit of Satoru’s cock gets smeared along his length by your palm. It doesn’t take long until he’s covered in a layer of slick, aiding the way your hand glides up and down at a speed that’s finally enough to light a fire deep in his abdomen. 

His jaw clenches and he gulps, yet he remains practically silent– much to your disapproval.

“Wanna hear you, baby. Go on,” you coo, catching his gaze as you tighten your fist around him for a split second. It’s not like him to keep his noises to himself when he feels good, anyway.

His mouth drops, and a breathy little whine falls from his lips, and it becomes clear why he needed your encouragement. The noise makes your own clit throb, painfully unstimulated.

“There you are, such a good boy,” you say, stroking your hand faster. 

From then on, Satoru doesn’t resist letting out his whiny noises, mixed with his panting. It’s a complete contrast to his usual grunts, growls, and groans that are always so low, coming from deep in his chest as he takes you exactly how he likes, how he wants, how he needs. Now he’s all breath and high-pitched, sweat building on his temple, helpless as he sits wrapped up in the palm of your hand.

His cock is near-purple and painfully hard as you jerk him off, twisting your hand at his tip with a slick noise. His hips are starting to buck, the hard ridges of his abdomen starting to ripple. The ropes stretch, like they’re breathing, and then they come to life.

“Tell me when you’re close, Satoru,” you say, stern compared to how sweet you’ve been up until now. When you look at his face, his eyes are half-lidded and clouded over, his eyebrows pulled together. Your hand slows to a near halt and he whines pitifully. “Look at me.”

It takes him a second, but he blinks and then his glazed irises meet yours. 

“You’ll tell me when you’re close, won’t you?”

“Y-yes,” he moans, hips rutting slightly into your fist, begging for friction once more. “Please.”

You smile, satisfied. He’s been so obedient thus far, you have no reason to not resume the cruel jerking of your hand– with even more haste this time.

This time, you pump your hand with determination, lip caught between your teeth as you watch him eagerly, soaking up his reactions. As Satoru starts to near his edge his head falls back, his name on your lips as his veins start to burn with a familiar sensation.

“Close,” he breathes. “I’m close.”

And everything he’s built up comes tumbling down the second you take your hand off of him. 

“No, please,” he cries, voice cracking, him squirming in his restraints. It’s pathetic. It’s adorable. “You can’t do this to me, baby.”

You giggle, watching his eyes brim with tears. “I just did.”

“I’d never do this to you,” he says, more desperate than you’ve ever heard him. 

“Because you can’t control yourself, baby. Maybe now you’ll learn,” you tell him, smiling so sweetly. Your fingertip brushes against his raging, red cock and he flinches, near-shrieking. “Deal?” 

“Fine- please, just touch me again, fuck,” he begs, his voice sending bolts of pleasure to your core and you’re suddenly aware of the slick pooling in your own panties. 

Your hand wraps around his dick again and falls back into a steady rhythm, dragging up and down the hard length in a way that has Satoru whining again instantly. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he whimpers over and over.

Within mere minutes, he’s throbbing into your hand once more, hardly muttering the word “close” before you take your hand off him.

“Ple-ease,” he mewls. “Need to cum, please let me cum.”

You have Satoru Gojo under your thumb. There’s no doubt about it.

Your chest aches with sympathy for him, truly. You are doing this for purely selfish reasons, after all, to soothe a sadistic, power-hungry instinct inside you. He’s done nothing wrong. But God, the way your brain buzzes from being able to get him like this in no time at all.

“Just hold out a little longer for me, Satoru, yeah? I promise it’ll feel so good,” you tell him. Your original plan was to see how long you could keep working him up for, but your pussy is starting to become restless. Between your legs, a pulse begs to be relieved. 

He replies with a moan and a twitch of his hips up into your hand that’s tugging at his cock again. You didn’t think it possible for it to be this red, this swollen and hard, veins bulging, his tip leaking so much precum that it almost looks like he already came. You drool a little, shivering at the thought of it stretching you out. 

The next time Satoru warns you of his impending orgasm so you can take your hand off of his cock is much sooner than the last few times. His entire body squirms, his arm muscles tensing against his restraints, and he sobs, tears slipping down his blood flushed cheeks.

From his swollen lips comes a stream of pleas and whimpers, ones that make you want to give him the world. You’re not sure how much of this you can take, let alone him. 

“It hurts,” he whispers. His Adam's apple bobs as he swallows hard. 

“It hurts? You can safeword if you need,” you remind him, scanning his eyes for any signs of panic, but you’re only met with a blissed out haze. 

“No,” he says, shaking his head with determination. “I’m the strongest.”

Despite his dazed state, he manages to give a stupid, insufferable smirk like he just told the greatest punchline in history. 

“And here you are, crying like a little bitch because I won’t let you cum.”

You thrive off of the cry he lets out when you squeeze his cock, hard. In the blink of an eye he returns to whining pathetically and begging for release.

“Please… please,” he sniffles, tossing his head back in frustration. 

Frankly, you’re amazed that he hasn’t teleported out of the ropes. You doubt he can truly keep up the act– that the ropes are really binding, that he can’t simply tear them apart without so much as lifting a finger– so why hasn’t he?

For a moment you peer up at him, at the desperate sight of him wriggling and squirming, at the straining of muscles that are packed with immeasurable strength, and a chill runs down your spine. 

He thinks he’s truly restrained.

It shouldn’t surprise you that the second he’s put under a shred of control, he gives in instantly. The moment he can surrender his power he’s forced to carry, he does it without hesitation. There is no one else he would ever be so vulnerable for, but you. No one else whose hands he would feel so safe and secure in. No one else he would ever rip open his chest and show his heart to.

The least you can do is put him out of misery, for now.

“What do you want?” you ask, dripping with honey, dragging your hand up and down, up and down. Every movement gives a shlick, shlick, shlick from the way his cock weeps.

“Wanna cum,” he whines, arms twitching behind his back, desperate for some kind of leverage. “Please, I-I need to cum.”

And so you succumb to his pleas. Finally, you give him exactly what he wants, working your hand over him so fast that his whimpers turn into a stream of incoherent cries. He twitches and throbs in your palm, until at last, with a choked sob, he cums.

Streaks of warm, white seed splatter over Satoru’s chest and abdomen, his entire body wrought with tremors as pleasure sinks into every muscle and every fibre that he’s made up of.

“Good boy, there you go,” you murmur, keeping your slicked up hand stroking him at a gentle pace to get him through his climax. “Did so well.”

His entire body trembles as he breathes through the aftershocks of his orgasm. Your clean hand soothes over his hard thigh, over his shoulder, squeezing softly as you crane your head to slot your mouth against his. He barely has the energy to kiss you back, yet still his tongue moves against yours like a natural instinct, albeit weakly. 

You pull away, hovering a mere inch away from his face and cradling his cheek with your hand. “Doing okay?”

A dopey smile makes his features light up and any blooming anxiousness within you gets put to rest. “Yeah. It felt so good.”

In turn, your own lips curl into a smile of satisfaction. Then the heat pooling between your legs makes itself known once more, and your brain sparks with an idea. “Good. You think you can help me out now?”

Satoru nods, ever eager, drool forming at the corner of his lips. It’s adorable how whipped he is. 

Your fingers hook into the knot in the centre of Satoru’s chest, guiding him to turn so that he faces the headboard. You crawl up a little, splaying yourself out against the pillows, spreading your legs with your bottom lip between your teeth and the confidence of the entire world.

Satoru watches you with galaxies in his eyes as you push your little thong down your legs and toss it to the floor. His tongue nearly lolls out of his mouth when he finds the glimmering slick that dribbles out of your hole. When you bring two of your fingers down and drag your fingertips through your folds, you think he might start panting like a dog. 

You make a show of dipping your fingers into your soaked cunt, rolling your eyes back and arching a little as you moan, sweet and soft.

“Baby, please,” Satoru croaks out, wriggling in his ropes a little. 

“What, Satoru?” you tease, the sound of his begging sending heat straight to the growing bubble of pleasure in your gut.

“Can I have a taste?”

You grin devilishly as you pull your fingers from your dripping hole. Rising to your knees, your arm snakes behind his head, your hand settling on the back of his neck. The other hand, with your fingers covered in your nectar, hovers by his puffy lips. 

“Open for me,” you say, voice low and, without meaning it to be, sultry. 

Satoru’s mouth drops without a shred of hesitation. Your fingers sit on his tongue, your eyes locked with his as you say the word, “close.” 

He does, and then he’s drinking in the flavour, suckling on your fingers as though they’re an oasis and he’s been in the desert for his entire life. 

How you wish you could savour the image of his eyes as you push your fingers further into his mouth. White lashes flutter and tears well up, threatening to spill over his lash line, your grip on the back of his neck tightening as your fingers sink deeper into his mouth. When they reach the back of his throat, he mewls softly, swallowing around your digits.

“Such a good boy,” you say. Saliva webs cling to your fingertips as you withdraw them from Satoru’s lips slowly. “Now why don’t you eat my pussy like the good boy you are?”

“Please, please, let me,” he practically garbles, drooling and slobbering at just the prospect. 

You lay back, opening your legs so invitingly for him once again that he nearly lurches forward this time–that’s his place, after all, his home. Between your thighs. 

As you grasp the centre knot once more, Satoru allows himself to fall forward, diving straight into your cunt. 

He makes no effort to tease, or take his time. He’s hungry, and having his hands bound behind his back makes his face grow hot with pure frustration. He needs to feel your soft, velvety walls clench around his fingers. Craves it, in fact. 

Then his tongue runs up and down your folds, lapping at the sweetness that spills from you, and his mind floods with the single desire to make you cum with his mouth. 

Both of your hands fly to his head, weaving into the roots of his snow-white hair as moans start to fall from your lips. Your thighs tighten around his head when he latches onto your clit, swollen from neglect and aching to be touched. 

It only takes a few seconds before your belly starts to fill with a pulsing warmth that has you keening for more. As Satoru slurps at your cunt, your hips rut against his face in tandem. You’re selfish, shamelessly so, allowing yourself to indulge as Satoru always does with you. Something gleams in his eyes when you catch them with yours– bliss, thrill. His head is swimming, pure liquid, as the thought of you using him purely for your own selfish pleasure sinks in and makes his dick grow hard all over again. 

Over the lewd, wet noises of Satoru’s tongue flicking and suckling at your clit, your sweet, airy moans harmonise with his own grunted ones, muffled slightly by your pussy, but they’re still so loud. His voice vibrates against your core, and it sends pangs of bliss shooting straight to your gut. 

The sight of his huge, hulking body, bound and bent over, is breathtaking. Thick thighs keep his body from collapsing to the bed. If it were you, your abdomen would have long given out. Yet he stays upright, his head between your legs, his mouth never once faltering in the way it ravages your pussy. 

“Satoru- fuck,” you whimper, pressing your hips up into his mouth, your greed fuelled by the way he moans in reply and licks at you without any mercy. 

Spit and arousal pools on the sheets beneath your ass. Satoru comes up for air for half of a second, his cheeks and chin shining with your saccharine essence. The pure mess–the carnage of it all makes your head spin. His tongue swipes over his bottom lip, and in the blink of an eye he’s flattening his tongue against your clit once more. 

Your head sinks further into the pillow beneath you as you claw at his scalp and press his face closer into you. He’s ravaging you now, drunk on the sight of you being torn away from sanity as you near your climax.

Then, with nothing but your whimpered warning, that pulsing warmth in your belly erupts, washing over your entire body in a violent wave. Your muscles tighten, your mind numb from the overwhelming bliss, and Satoru wishes he could devour you whole. 

He waits until you tap at his shoulder to sit back on his shins with a smirk tugging at his lips and slick dripping down his jaw. Your legs tremble as you rise to your knees and shuffle closer to him, heartbeat still thudding in your ears as you crane your neck up to his face. Your lips are so messy against his, yet your kiss is so tender and full of affection when you wrap your arms around his neck. 

Between your legs, Satoru’s erection grazes against your thighs. You giggle into his mouth, and there’s a smack when you pull your lips from his. 

“So needy, aren’t you, Satoru? You like eating pussy that much?” you tease, reaching between him and you to stroke at his length. He gasps when your hand wraps around him, twitching into your palm.

“You know I do, baby, love your pussy so much,” he says, breathy and rasped. His jaw strains when you scratch at his undercut and bite your lip, your eyes no doubt glinting with mischief. 

“Then get on your back and I’ll let you fuck it,” you tell him. 

He throws himself to the mattress comically fast, inching up the bed, laying there, all wrapped up and patient for you. 

You giggle as you throw one of your legs over his waist and straddle him, bringing your hands down to his chest. Slowly, your palms run over each ridge and knot once more. Satoru revels in the brush of your flesh over his, in between rows of rope where his caged skin blushes. It glitters, too, with a sheen of sweat that matches yours. 

“You look beautiful like this,” you tell him, reaching up to stroke your thumb over his warm cheek, looking straight into the oceans of his irises as you say the words. 

His features turn soft, flashing with so much affection that it makes your heart soar. 

Taking his cock in your hand, you love the way he shivers as you drag the head through your dripping wet folds. Then, unable to hold out even a second longer, you line him up with your entrance and let him plunge inside of you. Both of you hiss in tandem, you sinking down on him, taking every last inch all at once. 

Satoru is already whimpering as you seat yourself on him, your hips flush to his. Your eyes roll back into your head, the delicious stretch of his cock making your brain turn fuzzy. 

The first bounce of your hips has him nearly crying. As though he’s been punched in the gut, Satoru gasps at the way you squeeze around his achingly hard, overstimulated cock. He feels every crevice of your walls, how the soft warmth sucks him in so sweetly that the ceiling above him starts spinning even though barely a minute has passed.

“Satoru,” you giggle, not caring that you fail to hide the breathlessness in your own voice from the sensation of being speared on his fat cock. “If I didn’t know any better I’d think you were a virgin.”

His dick twitches and his eyes grow round, his mouth dropping as you start to move in a steady rhythm. “I-it’s too good, I- fuck.”

“It’s too good?” you tease, dropping down on him a little harder now. Your hands wander along the patterns of rope absentmindedly, toying with him. “Don’t tell me you’re gonna cum already.”

“‘m not, I promise,” he whimpers, sucking in a trembled breath, his gaze fixing on your face. 

“Good boy,” you say. Then, you abandon all mercy. 

Fucking yourself back onto him, you let a chorus of shameless moans spill from your lips, feeling every ridge and vein of his cock rub against your walls. Satoru is even noisier, struggling to contain his high-pitched whines and whimpered moans as he struggles against his restraints. 

Your fingers curl around a knot on Satoru’s abdomen for balance. The way you move your hips is relentless, the skin of your ass smacking against his thighs, wet and sticky with sweat and arousal. Utterly lewd.

Satoru’s cock pounds against your sweet spot effortlessly each time you bounce in his lap. Brushes against your cervix when you lean forward just a little. It makes your eyes roll, the way he’s carved himself out inside you after all these years, the way your cunt moulds itself around him and clings to him so perfectly.

He looks so sweet beneath you. Taking everything you give him. His jaw is slack, his hair a tousled mess. His eyes are blown out, with nothing but dazed bliss behind them. His skin– hot pink and dewy. You’ve never seen him like this. So dishevelled. So ruined. And in the deepest corners of your brain, something has been altered. Something that makes you yearn for more of him just like this. 

It’s almost subconscious the way your hand traces up Satoru’s hard abdomen and sits on his neck. He shivers at the touch, his gaze flickering with something dark, before your fingers start to press softly into the sides of his neck. Ever so slowly, his moans turn to strained breaths. For a fleeting moment, the corners of his lips even quirk upwards.

What a slut.

You bend forward, your flesh warm against his ropes, your clothed tits pressed to his chest. Your lips slot against his, sloppy, your love spilling into him as you kiss him hard. Inside you, he throbs, just as a pulsing heat bubbles inside you from the constant friction of his cock brushing your sensitive spot. 

You pull away from his face, gazing into his irises to watch him slowly unravel. To let him watch the way you’re slowly starting to fall apart, too. You’re growing closer to your edge by the minute, refusing to falter your rocking hips despite how your thighs are trembling and starting to ache. Despite how pinches of pleasure run through your veins and make your head heavy.

When you gently loosen your fingers around Satoru’s throat, his chest blooms up against you as he gulps down the oxygen you’ve deprived him of.

“My little slut,” you whisper into his lips, pressing a quick kiss to them before straightening your back and pushing yourself upright. Suddenly, the urge to make both him and yourself cum is detrimental. 

One of your hands grips your tit over your bustier, squeezing at your own mound until your head falls back and you sigh. Your other hand travels between your legs, and you jump when your fingers find your swollen, sensitive bud. Still, the bliss that shoots straight to your core as you start to rub rapid circles into it has you moaning– loud.

From the sight alone, Satoru’s hips start to buck wildly up into you. His moans become never-ending, his cock jumping, balls tightening like they’re ready to be drained. 

“Fucking- gonna cum, can I? Please?” he huffs, squirming helplessly. You’re just impressed he still remembered to ask for your permission.

“Yes, Satoru, cum for me. Fill me up,” you tell him, breathless as you ride him with determination, clenching around him like you’re going to milk him– and you are milking him.

Satoru’s cumming, his back arching into the air as he sobs out, almost like he’s in pain. Your walls turn white, streaked with seed as his cock pumps you full. 

Still your hand works your clit relentlessly, your other hand flying to Satoru’s abdomen to steady yourself because before long your own orgasm hurtles towards you. Deep in your gut, the bubbling heat finally boils over, sending searing pleasure to your very fingertips. Satoru moans in unison with you as stars dance in your vision and your pussy tightens around him like a grip. 

A moment later, once you’ve come back down from your high, Satoru’s voice comes out in a rasp. “Let me see it.”

You lean backwards, bracing yourself on his thighs so you can lift yourself up off of him, letting his cock slip out and watching his sticky cum follow. It drools out of your hole so obscenely that you almost want to hide your face, until you remember that it’s your husband who’s staring at you. 

When the sheets are stained with every last drop that Satoru had emptied inside you, you collapse forward, heaving as you collect your breath. All at once, your aching thighs, your fatigued muscles, and your fuzzy head hit you like a punch to the face. The side of your face is pressed to Satoru’s plump chest, where his heart pounds against his ribcage so hard that you hear the way it races. 

“Did so good, baby,” you hum. Sleep calls you, wrapping its tendrils around you, but you fight it off in favour of clambering off of his lap. Something in your mind urges you to be gentle with him, like he’s glass– even though he’s anything but. Still– the blissed out, empty look in his eyes almost makes you sob. “Doing okay?”

“Yeah,” he replies, chuckling softly like he knows it’s exactly what you need to hear. 

“Can I undo the rope?” you offer, running a hand through his mussed up hair.

“No need,” is all he says. He sits up, stretches his arms to the sides, and the rope splits, falling off of his body in a crimson heap on the bed sheets.

You shouldn’t be this surprised; still, your mouth hangs from your husband’s display. Somehow it’s easy to forget just how strong he is until he reminds you once more. However, the ropes have also left their own reminder in snake-like imprints in his skin.

“You know, I was gonna offer to rub lotion on you, but apparently you don’t need it,” you huff. It’s not like he can’t just use Reverse Cursed Technique to heal himself, anyway. “Also, what if I wanted to use those ropes again?”

Satoru’s hand glides softly over your thigh, his face genuinely apologetic. “We can always get more, baby. And by the way, you were really good at that, you know.”

“You think so?” you question, leaning into him. “So, you’ll let me do it again, right?”

“Well, I didn’t say that.”

His words are void of any genuine objection. 

We’ll see about that.

to my wonderful beta reader @tetsutits <3 reblogs and feedback are much appreciated!

[avalypuff]

Answers to the common questions of “Why didn’t Zelda retain dragon features?” and “Why did Link’s arm revert to normal?”

I’ve been dying to do some analysis posts since TotK came out, and after seeing a lot of people complain about the above, I decided my first should be related to the endgame.

So, I’ve seen a lot of posts where people seem to misunderstand what was going on when Zelda changed back into a Hylian, and why Link’s arm returned to normal. Many write this off as simply plot convenience, and while it’s true that Nintendo wouldn’t want to leave the main characters of one of their most popular titles with permanent changes, I’m here to try my best to explain the actual reason these things happened the way they did, because whether you noticed it or not, there is plot relevance to this reversion.

Draconification is permanent.

This is an indisputable fact.

And while I have seen people criticizing the way Zelda changed back, the fact is she swallowed the stone knowing that she never would.

“I’ll be forever changed…”

Her cry for Link to find her was not for her sake. She wasn’t depending on him to find the key to changing her back. Nay, the only reason she desperately prayed for him to find her was so that he could get the Master Sword, which—ignoring game mechanics that would allow you to beat Ganondorf with literally any weapon with the right damage/durability ratio—canonically is the only thing that can hurt him.

When Zelda changed back, it was almost entirely thanks to Sonia. That’s right!

…Let’s take a second to recall this scene in which Rauru decimated the horde of Molduga.

We see Sonia extend her hand and then gesture for Zelda to do the same.

Here they’re extending their own power to amplify Rauru’s counterattack, even beyond the already-massive boost the Secret Stone provides.

In the final scene when Link finds himself hovering over the sleeping Light Dragon amongst a dream-like atmosphere, it’s really quite telling that Sonia is the first to rest her hand over Link’s, then followed by Rauru.

This time Rauru is fulfilling the role of amplifying Sonia’s power over time. Not just that, but adding it on top of the time manipulation that Zelda gave to Link at the beginning of the game.

That’s what’s happening here. This is immensely powerful, triple amplified time magic!

The change from dragon to Hylian wasn’t a transformation in the same sense that it was when Zelda changed from Hylian to dragon. I know that’s a confusing sentence, but consider the basis of Sonia’s time magic is recalling things as they once were.

Zelda didn’t retain dragon features because, through the power of time reversal, she was never a dragon to begin with.

This is the also the reason the Secret Stone reappeared on her necklace.

This is ALSO the reason Link’s arm reverted to its natural state before he was affected by the gloom.

And before y’all come at me with “well, why didn’t Rauru do that in the first place instead of giving his arm to Link?” Simple; Sonia wasn’t there. Even spirits aren’t omnipotent… in Hyrule. (Probably.)

The point is, this was essentially a lucky break for Zelda and Link, because if Sonia (and therefore Zelda, by inheritance) didn’t have time magic, there would have been no way to undo the Draconification. It would have been every bit as permanent as Hyrule legends and history says it is, and Zelda would be gone forever.

In fact, it’s likely it was a shot in the dark even on Sonia and Rauru’s part, considering there was no prior knowledge of reversing time on a dragon, let alone a person. It was a glorious blend of the convenience of Sonia’s time magic, and luck that it worked out the way they (“they” being all characters involved) wanted.

Anyways, to wrap this up, Draconification is indeed permanent, unless you have the number one badass-master-of-time-manipulation Queen Sonia on your side. Then you can probably undo anything. :)

[monocaelia]

atlas.

- he could only hold the world for so long, it was about time his body caved in ; aka, the two times you're reminded of his humanity. feat. gojo satoru & gn!reader genre : hurt/comfort , happy ending w.c. : 1.8k

warnings: spoilers for jjk s2 ep5 note : i hate goe joe satoru.

gojo satoru.

you didn't even need to see him to know who he is; he is the revered member of the gojo clan blessed enough to be born with both the six eyes and the infinity cursed technique and is a one in a lifetime miracle.

from the beginning of his life, gojo had been the strongest sorcerer in existence. with both blessed techniques at his will, he was near unstoppable and was worthy of shouldering the problems of jujustu society from a young age, as decided by the gojo clan.

and, for someone as blessed and impenetrable as he is, gojo had never felt the emotional strife of losing someone dear to him.

there are two times that you recall ever witnessing gojo satoru lose his composure, where you have seen the blessed one who holds the power of the gods in the palm of his hands and is always one step ahead of everyone else fall to his knees as the weight of the world finally takes its toll on his poor soul.

the first time was when getou suguru had betrayed jujutsu tech. you weren't sure of the details; you were in the middle of a mission and had returned to the news of your classmate and friend becoming a wanted criminal.

honestly, hearing it firsthand did not feel real to you. getou suguru was someone you had always admired. he was someone who not only had a powerful cursed technique, but was also a skilled fighter and knew how to use his technique to the fullest despite coming from a normal family rather than one of the prestigious families that were well-known in jujustu society.

you had shared smiles with him, stories of the crazy memories made while exorcising curses and the near-death experiences shared while on missions together.

and you knew gojo and getou were near inseparable during their time at jujutsu tech; you couldn't imagine the pain gojo was going through with the news of his one and only becoming a murderer wanted in all of jujutsu society.

you find gojo satoru alone in getou's old dorm room. it's empty; the once neat, but lived in dorm now completely void of any evidence of being lived in with the exception of a framed picture of your class left on the nightstand.

getou and gojo tower over you and ieri, but it's all smiles from the four of you. because of the small frame and the number of people in the photo, you're all squished together. though, it's not like any of you minded.

a perfect picture of youth; the most beautiful moment in life.

the frame is held in gojo's hand as he sits on getou's dorm bed. you can see his fingers clench the frame as frustration settles into his bones, before he relaxes once more.

"it's not your fault, you know," you say gently, breaking the silence and hopefully through the roaring storm that you know is brewing within gojo's head. you step into the room and join gojo on the bed; he doesn't move and he doesn't face you.

"no one saw it coming." you try to reassure him, but you know any attempts at this point are futile. gojo does not respond, a flood of memories flying by crystalline eyes as he tries to figure out when it went so wrong.

the silence is permeable as reality settles into gojo. his lips part, a shaky breath, and he's speaking again.

"i should've seen it coming," he whispers. there's a clear anger in his voice, though you know full well exactly who it's directed at. "i was his friend and i didn't even realize he was hurting alone." His voice cracks.

"i didn't even do anything to save him."

it is then that you begin to see gojo as who he is. he isn't an untouchable god who feared nothing, who had enemies that couldn't even lift a finger to hurt him if they even dared. this gojo beside you isn't an omnipotent god, he's just a kid like you; he's human. he's vulnerable, even if the elders believe otherwise, for his friends are his one and only achilles' heel and the key to his humanity.

not quite knowing the words to comfort him, you reach over to hold his hand. it isn't much, but you know firsthand that just having someone beside you to help support your pain is better than shouldering everything alone.

the tight squeeze of your hand and the quite sniffles beside you are all you need as a reminder that gojo satoru is not a god; he is only gojo satoru.

the second time gojo felt genuine fear was when he nearly lost you.

as a result of a curse that was underestimated for second-class sorcerors to take, you had become collateral for a simple mistake from the higher ups. of course, mistakes could just be that, but everyone knows better.

this was set up so they could easily dispose of you and rule your death as a mere 'accident.' the higher ups needed you gone as the deemed your existence a hinderance to gojo's full potential, a dam in the middle of the river.

lucky for you, you made quick work of the curse before collapsing with the only words you heard being a shout of your name.

the bright lights of the jujutsu high infirmary are the first thing you see when your eyes slowly flutter open. your vision is blurry and the world is still spinning as you regain consciousness. with hesitance, you slowly sit up despite your body aching and telling you to lay back down.

it is only when a firm hand presses against your chest and pushes you down do you actually do so.

crystalline blue meets your gaze. they're playful and full of youth, a pair of blue eyes that you're most familiar with. but theres a shadow of solemnity behind those bright irises and you know exactly why.

"about time you woke up," gojo speaks up, ruffling your hair with his hand. they're roughened from years of training and fighting, but there are no other blemishes that stain the purity of his hands. "i thought you finally had enough of me and decided to kick the bucket, dear." there's a light, jesting tone to his voice as he speaks. he's laughing, though you can see the redness underneath his eyes as he brushes off your near death experience as a joke.

"and leave you alone to torment the students? as if," you jab back with a smile of your own. "i wouldn't ever want to wish that on your students. fushiguro would drag me back from the dead if i left him alone with you."

gojo's bottom lip juts out and his brows furrow in a pout as you say this and you can't help but laugh a little on your own.

"but i know you'll miss me, so i won't die just yet," you reassure your white haired companion. your hand reaches over to hold his own and gives it a gentle squeeze, a reminder that you're alive and still breathing beside him as your pulse and your warmth bleed onto his own.

his hand squeezes yours tightly, as he did years ago, and his bottom lip is caught between his teeth as he bites down onto the plush skin. his eyes aren't focused on you anymore and instead focus on anywhere but you as the reality of the situation settles into his bones.

"promise?" gojo asks, his voice a mere whisper.

he already lost one of his closest friends years ago and you witnessed that heartbreak with your own eyes as you had comforted gojo when he needed it most. you couldn't imagine how his fragile heart would break again if he had lost you just now.

despite being the strongest, you know that not being able to fully protect the ones he held close was one of gojo's biggest weaknesses as much as he tried to hide it.

but you know that you couldn't give him any empty promises knowing the work you're doing. it would only give him false hope and the both of you know that better than anyone else.

you don't answer him and instead pull his hand to your lips, pressing a soft kiss onto his skin. with a gentle tug, the hand held by gojo is pulled into his chest as he cradles your palm. his fingers intertwine with yours and your heart swells at the small action.

it is then that you meet crystalline blue once more, though this time they are unwavering as they firmly stand their ground against the hands of fate that, at any moment, could cruelly tear the two of you apart.

"don't leave me," gojo begs. "you can't leave me until the world has turned for the better, for us and for the youth of jujutsu society. i'll make it happen so..."

the once invincible sorcerer brings your hand up to his lips and he presses a kiss along your knuckles, reciprocating the act you did before.

"please, don't leave me."

gojo leans down and presses a kiss to your forehead. it's soft and hesitant, but you know at this point his fear of your life nearly slipping through his fingers has caught up to him. he pulls away, only to lean down again to kiss you.

your heart flutters feeling his lips kiss yours and you can tell from the way his lips barely ghost of yours that gojo is scared you'll disappear from him if he moves the wrong way. like a warm wave easing the worries that burrow into his entire being, your hand that's free from the one held in gojo's reaches up to cup his face. your thumb caresses his cheek and bring him closer to you, reassuring him that you won't slip away from him should he kiss you too hard.

gojo pulls away from the kiss with cheeks warm and his eyes, now a calming blue that held the stars you love so much, glint with satisfaction and relief.

though, the sweet and tender moment shared between lovers is ruined the moment gojo opens his mouth again.

"don't break my promise, okay? i don't care if you die, i'll die with you and haunt you forever as punishment for dying first, okay?" your white haired boyfriend urges as he leans his forehead against you, blue now an annoyance to you as he forces you to make eye contact with him.

your hand pushes his face away with a snort, ignoring his whining complaints as you do so.

though, it's not like you would ever willingly die first. you couldn't leave gojo satoru alone, your soul couldn't bear the burden of knowing you would shatter the glass that makes gojo's heart.

[frankengrlz]

it's immediately clear that both the creature and victor find some of their greatest comforts in nature and that's one of the key features that connects them and proves they're not so different from each other, but i've also noticed that they tend to admire different TYPES of nature

victor tends to amaze at "the high and snowy mountains [...] immense glaciers [...] the rumbling thunder of the falling avalanche [...] the supreme and magnificent mont blonc" (65), typically finding the most comfort in the "savage and enduring scenes" (64) which tend to be colder and rougher yet unchanging; while the creature found that his "chief delights were the sight of the flowers, the birds, and all the gay apparel of summer" (94). there is probably something to be said about the creature's affinity for spring and summer, the seasons of rebirth, of NATURAL and beautiful life, a direct contrast to his unnatural, coldly scientific, "wretched" rebirth that he abhors so much

i was discussing this idea with a friend, who added that victor finding solace in the frozen and dead beauty of wintery environments, a typically less-favoured season, could reflect how victor often refuses himself the typical joys of life. throughout the novel, he struggles with his self-worth because of the guilt induced by his creation of the creature and the deaths that then followed, and the only reason he even desires peace and comfort is because he knows he needs to present himself that way to his family in order for them to be happy ("i [...] wished that peace would revisit my mind only that i might afford them consolation and happiness" [62]). i built on her idea by noting how the creature acknowledged that he "required kindness and sympathy; but [he] did not believe [him]self unworthy of it" (94), a completely contrasting stance from victor, who finds himself undeserving of the many comforts offered to him by his family

furthermore, it seems that victor finds beauty in glory & majesty ("[the scenery] spoke of a power mighty as Omnipotence--and i ceased to fear, or to bend before any being less almighty than that which had created and ruled the elements" [64]), while the creature finds beauty in warmth & growth. both characters seem to find what they desire(d) in the versions of the natural world that they admire most

to reference what i said in the beginning about the connections between victor and the creature, this observation only contributes to my understanding that victor and the creature are incredibly similar, and many of their identical traits involve a rejection or a reversal of the other; they both ardently wish for each other's destruction, they both ruined each other, they're the reason that the other is simultaneously a victim and a villain in their own sense, they both hate themselves but for reversed reasons (victor hates himself for what he's done rather than what he is, while the creature hates himself for what he is more than what he's done), and now this--they both find solace in nature, just opposing kinds. like father, like son

[thegaysinmyhead]

DC X DP IDEA(?)

Guys why is literally no one jumping on a VERY OBVIOUS trope for ghosts??

FUSION?? LIKE STEVEN UNIVERSE STYLE??

Just–hear me out hear me out!

Ghost forms are just extensions of their core, so it makes sense they can be changed right?? Gems physical bodies are just extensions and projections of their gem!!

SO, if going by a lot of phanon core logic, it would make sense if ghosts can have conversations to like fuse or something. Probably to use in battle mostly (ghosts are obviously territorial) but can also be used for love or to protect a weaker/damaged core! JUST IMAGINE THE POSSIBILITIES!!

Danny being able to fuse literally Steven universe style w his friends because he's a halfa, Danny being able to fuse with Jason because he has a connection because of the pits (Halfa or Revenant Jason Todd), Danny fusing with LITERAL BATMAN as he's the ghost king!!

CAN YOU IMAGINE HOW TERRIFYING THAT WOULD BE???

Jason in the middle of getting sacrificed: :|

Danny, the one being summoned and seeing a poor baby ghost/potential boyfriend material and snatching him to protect him: :)

Bruce:

Tim:

Dick:

Barbara:

Steph:

Cass:

Jason: ¯\(°_o)/¯

Danny: Mine now :)

*he says as their body erupts into flames and they become the most bad ass looking ghost that kicks the cultists asses; Before they started lounging around and reading Jane Austen* (floating laying down is apparently more comfortable than just laying down on something solid, so its nice to float and read)

ORRRR

Justice League facing off an impossibly strong enemy that they have no choice but to look into outside sources to help defeat him (Trigon, Darkseid, something else that probably show up like 4 times a week lmao). Eventually, JLD get wind of a new ghost king who's supposedly kind and benevolent, which is races better than his old counterpart.

With the entire League's permission, begrudgingly Batman's, they summon the Ghost King as a last option and are ready to sacrifice anything for his help (within reason). Imagine their surprise when Danny Fenton, aged somewhere between 16 to 21, pops up in the portal looking frazzled and like he was woken up from a nap. Not even in his ghost form, just blinking owlishly at the League members while gaping like a fish.

"Holy shit—the Justice League?! I'm being summoned by the Justice League?! Ohmygod Tucker is gonna freak"

Constantine butts in looking nervous as hell and sweating buckets, "Your Majesty—"

"Just Danny's fine, I can't believe I'm being summoned by THE Justice League!"

"...Danny. We could really use some of your help, mate. See, we got ourselves an issue we can't really fix ourselves–"

"I'll do it. I'm not even joking, you guys don't even have to ask me twice,"

Everyone in the League (besides Batman) was watching with bated breath at the exchange. The confusion as a random teenager showed up was quickly washed away with how formally he was addressed, but it spiked back up when 'Danny' seemed to...hero worship them?

"—But!"

Ah, there it was. Can never do trades in the occult for free.

"I would really do it for free if I could man, honest! Just...I need to make a teensy weensy deal to be let out of the circle? You guys don't even have to let me do it on my own if you're worried I'll go rogue! You can tie me into a deal about one of you 'using my power' in exchange for like, a cup of coffee or something,"

Now everyone (except Batman, though he seemed to have a clenched jaw) was opening gaping as the omnipotent described being. Being offered something to great...in exchange for a mug of bean water? There had to be a catch, some sort of trickery, but Diana and many others could sense no ill intent on the young king. Constantine had even let up on the nerves as the being continued to speak, relief seeming to crash through his entire body when he realized none of them would have to give up their soul or something. Batman was the first to speak up.

"And if you were...to offer your power to one of us, what would that entail for the mortal or semi-mortal user?"

The king hummed and tapped his chin in thought, "Well, they'd probably be fine. Most of my power would be filtered through myself, so whoever is wielding it wouldn't go mad or suddenly overwhelmed with it. It'd be like turning on the tap while the well is underground, or something close,"

Batman nodded before Danny continued to speak.

"—But, obviously, I reserve the right to take away my power at any point if I see it needed. I would not be mind controlled, nor would I be drained, I would be an observer in the back of whoever decides to be at the other end of the contract until it's fulfilled,"

Constantine stepped forward once again, cigarette all but ash between his lips now, "Contract, right, mate. So uh, one of our sorry blokes gets access to your unfathomable power for the time it takes to beat whatever the hell it is out there. And in exchange, you get a cuppa? Maybe some biscuits and other treats with it to sweeten the deal?"

Danny smiled brightly at the ruffled looking blond and nodded, "Sounds good to me!"

All at once, the room dropped in temperature as the summoning circle around Danny became encased in ice. The ice shimmered an otherworldly dark blue, almost black, and stretched until it reached the feet of the young king. A spark lighted ontop of Danny's head before exploding into a flame, a crown taking shape through the smoke of the fire to sit upon the teenagers head. There was a flash of blue as a ring materialized on the teen's finger, as well as a cape seeming to sew itself from nothing to sit upon his shoulders. Danny looked sheepish as much as he looked serious, his eyes now emanating a neon green with hints of red in his pupil.

"This is kind of the awkward part, whoever what's to use my power will have to form the contract. I don't really feel comfortable with a super or meta using it, with how powerful I am it might cause more damage than repair it, so preferably a human or mostly human host?"

Danny looked so incredibly shy all of a sudden as he rubbed the back of his neck in an incredibly human gesture. The word's were out of Batman's mouth before he even realized he was speaking then.

"I'll do it," The Bat walked forward to stand beside Cobstantine. Constantine pinched his eyebrows together before letting out a nervous chuckle. Danny just seemed to light up.

"Ohmygosh I'm going to be core merging with Batman," the young king seemed to be doing another small fan-boy freakout before coughing and collecting himself.

"Right, right. Contract to do now, tell my Fraid about this later," Danny lifted up a flaming hand towards the edge of the summoning circle, motioning gently to the Bat.

"Heads up, this is going to feel really weird. Just keep holding onto me after the contract sets, and then make sure to get everyone away as fast as possible. You will grow, it's not gonna be very nice if other people are around because you'll squish them,"

The other League members around nodded mutely, eyes staring at Batman as they prayed and wished for his safety. Batman just gruffed and slowly placed his own hand into the awaiting palm. It didn't burn as he thought it would. In fact, it felt quite cold. Like the feeling of putting your bare hand into a pike of snow just to know how it felt. Batman forced himself not to shiver as he felt the contract form through the handshake. The young king sent him a reassuring smile before he seemingly vanished.

No, not vanished. There was a bright light in Bruce's gloves hand that shook with power. The light—sphere, orb?—sunk into his palm, and this time Bruce did shiver. It felt like the biting winds of a blizzard as it crept up his arm to settle in between his ribs. There was a ringing in his ears blocking out the noise around him, but he could faintly make out images of the League rushing away from him and giving a very large berth.

There was a building in his chest, and he felt it pulse like a second heartbeat. Bruce pulled his hands to his sternum and clawed uselessly as the hevlar, the freezing cold threatening to consume him whole inside and out. His chest pulsed, and he fell to the ground in a heap. Bruce heard some of the members try to rush to him, but the JLD held them baback. There was a cracking like ice pulling away from itself, like glaciers splitting, and all of a sudden Bruce felt power rush through his veins.

It should have been overwhelming, it should have terrified him into immeditely creating contingencies, it should have drove him mad with power, but it didn't. Bruce didn't realize his form had grew until he opened his eyes (when did he close them) and blinked down at the members of the League. They were so...small compared to him now. Bruce felt more than he saw the flames dance from his collarbone, and they flickered up high around his thankfully still cowled face. Though, it seemed his face was the cowl right now.

Bruce turned to the being they were fighting (and losing to) moments ago, and smirked. He felt the spike of fear, and he suddenly knew that this thing didn't stand a chance.

.

.

.

GUYS I KNOW BRUCE WOULD NEVER AGREE TO POWERS LMAO LET ME DREAM THO I THINK HE WOULD LOOK COOL ASF AS A GHOST!!

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 410: Kacchan Fights a Baby

Previously on BnHA: Kacchan was born and then he grew up and murdered the Demon Lord.

Today on BnHA: Kacchan fights a baby. Tomura and Deku finally remember that they were supposed to have been fighting too this entire time, and get on with that once again. Tomura is all, “[literally just reaches out and grabs Deku’s face because Deku’s main character powers suddenly abandoned him in a fit of confusion].” Deku is all, “[chops off Tomura’s fingers which is somehow not even in the top twenty of violent things that have happened in this series in just the last five chapters].” Tomura is all “joke’s on you I still got your quirk :D” and fuck me he actually stole Danger Sense, what the fuck.

logically I knew AFO still had to be alive somehow because he’s too big of a villain to go out that easily without a proper sendoff. but deep in my heart, I’m still secretly disappointed

it just isn’t fair, lol. this guy has died more times than Rasputin and he’s still out here scheming his schemey schemes. when oh when will it end

sir you did not just say you had yet ANOTHER unused trump card up your sleeve??

(ETA: the translation isn’t fully clear here, but I think the trump card he’s referring to is the whole “I’ll just go back inside him and join the part of me that was already in there and we’ll take over Tomura’s body again together” plan that he was trying to pull off. I think. if not though, that’s certainly something worth speculating about.)

well as always the psychology in this series is unironically fascinating! he just wants acknowledgement at the end of the day, huh. just wants some love and attention. too bad he was born in a rat-infested hellscape and learned all the wrong lessons and turned into a crazed omnipotent murderlad

also he really did turn back into a baby sdfsdlkjfl oh no. I need to see Katsuki’s reaction to this immediately

oh my lord

(●__●)

lmao this is so incredibly fucked up

ngl though, this is karma at its finest. he tortured and killed so many people trying to earn everyone’s fear and awe and reverence, only to literally blip out of existence at the end with absolutely nothing to show for it

everyone please enjoy this series of panels of a deeply vexed Bakugou Katsuki picking a fight with this slowly melting evil baby

“you think I care that you’re a baby now. you think I won’t fight a fuckin’ baby. let’s do this you little punk”

also I’m sorry but it’s absolutely ridiculous that the gigantic chest wound Tomura inflicted on him got sewed up so neatly lol. AFO’s not the only one who stubbornly refuses to die no matter what

...

just once, it would be nice if Horikoshi didn’t immediately shred my plot nitpicks to pieces mere seconds after I write them

LMAO

BABY AFO DON’T CARE. BABY AFO WILL THROW HANDS WITH ANYONE ＼(｀0´)／

KACCHAN MY BELOVED FAVE OF ALL TIME, ARE YOU REALLY ABOUT TO LOSE TO A LITERAL FUCKING INFANT

WHAT HAPPENED TO “PERFECT VICTORY” LMAO. MOVING THE GOALPOSTS EVEN AS HIS CONSCIOUSNESS FADES. “EH, CLOSE ENOUGH”

-- OH FOR THE LOVE OF --

me: wow it sure is uncharacteristic of Katsuki to just pass out before he properly wraps up this battle

Horikoshi: oh yeah good point, sure would be a shame if someone... IMMEDIATELY ADDRESSED THAT CONCERN ON THE VERY NEXT PAGE

me: ఠ_ఠ

ldskjflaksdjfkds

fdsfsdkf. “SORRY ABOUT THAT, FOR A MOMENT THERE I ALMOST FORGOT TO BEND THE ENTIRE UNIVERSE TO MY WILL”

holy fucking shit. his body was all “um, just a quick reminder that you’re HORRIBLY WOUNDED and have lost like ten gallons of blood and all of your cells are about to call an emergency meeting to shut this thing down before you get us all killed.” and he was all “WHAT WAS THAT?!” and his body was all “oh my GOD, FUCK, OKAY just forget we said anything”

and meanwhile Baby AFO is just lying there all “(◉⌓◉)”

this six-month-old child is truly and sincerely still trying to kill Kacchan while screeching death threats in high-pitched baby talk

this actually would have killed him too, if he’d succeeded in passing out. all that just to be punk’d by a damn baby

you are actually shitting me right now

at this point I’m genuinely not sure which of them has the more powerful angry toddler energy

oh no ffuffkdsfk

meeeeelting. meeeeeeltiiiiiing!!! oh what a world what a world

jesus Horikoshi I am genuinely speechless

... welp

WAIT NO WAY, REALLY?!?!

?!?!?! WAS IT ACTUALLY THAT SIMPLE THIS WHOLE TIME

-- lkjf

three times. three times in the same fucking chapter. I give up. apparently I’ll literally believe anything this man says. does it feel good, Horikoshi. preying on your readers’ hopeful naivete

yeefuckinghaw lmao

GOOD JOB KACCHAN YOU DEFEATED THE EVIL BABY

awwwww

I actually had a theory about this! well more of a wishlist item, really. I can’t remember if I’ve actually posted about it yet or not. but it’s like. you know how Deku and Kacchan are always being really dramatic about holding hands? wanting to hold hands; not wanting to hold hands; being afraid to hold hands; holding hands via proxy, etc. etc.?

and you know how both Endeavor and All Might have each done their own version of the victory pose that Kacchan is referring to here? with each one using a different hand?

so you see, I was thinking that it might be nice. might be a little poetic and all that. if at the end of the fight, Deku and Kacchan did, in fact, hold hands. and then did the victory pose together. and it became like their iconic hero moment. them standing there together. having accomplished their goal and defeated TomurAFO through teamwork. realizing their shared childhood dream. and sharing that moment of triumph with each other and with the world, ushering in a new era of heroes

anyway yeah. I was thinking that might be a pretty good ending. but it looks like Kacchan maybe really is about to pass out here now, lol, so maybe not? anyways time to finally scroll down

-- okay I literally said awww again out loud

what a fucking nerd. I have never felt more fondness for a character in my life

every damn person watching this on the news better have leaped to their feet and started applauding, goddammit. those motherfuckers better be CHANTING HIS FUCKING NAME. all those nagging reporters better be bombarding his phone with calls. those fuckers who deleted his footage from the Shouto interview better be shamelessly leaving him dozens of voicemails acting like none of that ever happened and presumptuously asking when he can free some time in his schedule to visit their studio again. all the heroes who haven’t hugged him yet better be lining the fuck up. that one guy from the post-kidnapping press conference in chapter 86 better be writing a fifty page letter of apology!!

oh hey it’s a random pre-battle flashback mysteriously taking place in Troy “a few days before the battle” even though I thought they only moved into that place the night before the fight

I love how Katsuki immediately narrows his eyes (I assume. we can’t see for sure but that’s the vibe I get) at Jeanist and has to resist the urge to call the police on him for that pun

so Hadou’s wondering what Jeanist is talking about because they already evacuated the civilians, so what else are they trying to protect. and Edgeshot is all, “well obviously we’ve gotta protect everyone’s future,” which is a nice... rearshadowing?? for him saving Katsuki’s life later on lol

and now Mirko is all “get to the fucking point already.” which, same

so Jeanist says that Tomura is an even bigger problem than AFO, because at least AFO doesn’t want to murder everyone on the entire planet. and he concludes with “he’ll probably try to touch the ground and use his quirk.” which is a conclusion that I have to say wasn’t really worth two pages of flashback buildup for, considering that we all figured that out years ago

I’m guessing this is all just some sort of awkward transition back to Deku’s fight now lol

and now we’re getting two pages of exposition on how long it would theoretically take Tomura’s Decay to spread throughout the city, and then the entire country, yikes

damn. talk about stakes

and now finally back to Deku!!

shoutout to everyone who correctly predicted that Deku was once again talking out of his ass when it came to being out of Gearshifts. we all knew. unlimited supply

wow Tomura way to throw AFO under the bus

the way I recall it, AFO wasn’t the one who failed to kill him back then lol. but go ahead and talk your shit king

DEKU WHAT ARE YOU DOING

holy shit?!?!

like my first thought was “well last time he did this he just tried to steal OFA rather than Decay him, so he’ll probably try that again and it’ll be fine.” only to remember that the AFO inside Tomura is currently permanently(?) out to lunch, and Tomura himself doesn’t give two figs about stealing OFA. so, uhhhh >_>

(ETA: nevermind.)

but then this happened

Deku what the actual fuck

OH MY GOD??!?!

HOLY SHIT

okay. okay, fuck. lemme gather up my thoughts, and then we’ll wrap this up

they’ll never admit it, but you know the other OFA Vestiges secretly resented Shino a tiny bit for being the only one of them to not be gruesomely murdered. bet they all feel guilty for thinking that now

Shino and Banjou also seemed to have this cute little pseudo-rivalry thing going on, so I really feel bad for Banjou now. :/ he looks so horrified in that bottom right panel

gotta admit, I did not see this coming in the slightest. OFA has been this immutable “I do what I want!” quirk for so long that I never thought Tomura or AFO would actually succeed in stealing it, even partially. that shook me to my core

BUT, it’s also really exciting to me because it’s going to make this battle much more interesting if Deku can’t use his get out of jail free card. shit just got way more real and I’m here for it

lastly, so! let me tell you guys my prediction. I still can’t see Tomura being the final villain lol. I just can’t. it feels too anticlimactic. if I’m wrong, I’m wrong, and I’ve certainly botched MANY predictions in the past, but I have not yet learned my lesson from any of it and I will not apologize lol

so here’s what I think. Deku and Tomura battle it out for the next chapter or two, and Tomura snatches up more of Deku’s quirks one by one. we see all of the Vestiges disappearing and the mood gets more and more desperate. eventually we’re down to just Kudou and Yoichi. Deku is panicking, but for some reason Kudou seems even MORE panicked

Kudou/Gearshift eventually gets stolen too, and it looks like this might finally be it for Deku (I have no idea how he’d stop Tomura from Decaying the ground once Blackwhip gets stolen, btw, but maybe Katsuki or someone else interferes in desperation towards the end). but just when it looks like Tomura is finally going to take the last piece of OFA, Deku’s vibes suddenly do a 180, stopping Tomura in his tracks

cut to the OFA Moon Gorgeous Meditation Realm, where Deku and Yoichi are staring at the door -- yes, that door -- in shock. because it’s finally been opened (now that the other Vestiges are no longer there to keep it at bay). and just like that, enter AFO, for the THIRD FUCKING TIME :D :D

tl;dr, HERE’S HOW HORCRUX!DEKU CAN STILL HAPPEN!!! wait where are you all going. wait come back

anyway so wow that was a really bizarre chapter that I truly thoroughly enjoyed, which should probably be a bit concerning. on to the next two week break! (for anyone who’s not aware, Shounen Jump will be on break next week, so yeah.) I’m on chapter 391 now. so close but still so far. the end of the year has gone by too damn fast tbh

[goetiae]

Sebastian is a very unusual protagonist because while he is a powerful entity, he also seems to be a relatively inexperienced demon - at the very least in the beginning of the manga. He encounters Ciel as someone who is skillful at manipulation, killing, seduction - that is true. However, his abilities in terms of managing household, knowing how to treat human illnesses as well as his general knowledge about how human beings work, what they like their food to taste like, and more seem to be lacking.

A demon that needs to actively learn from his Master, read books to understand Victorian medicine, and repeatedly go through failures before he grasps certain concepts is not a typical character to encounter in supernatural media. Usually, entities are portrayed as omniscient, omnipotent, and omnipresent, but Sebastian does not seem to fit those criteria: he simply lacks knowledge a truly Ancient being would possess. He is seemingly weaker than some of the reapers, he gets injured, he makes mistakes. He does not fit the archetype of a "primordial entity with excessive powers" because he learns how to be a perfect butler alongside his Master who is growing into being a proper Earl.

[unabashedly-so]

📚 SDV Elliott HC 🎭

Being alone with your thoughts for so many hours a day can make one a little... eccentric.

Content warning: none ☺️ just the silliest little HC.

(also if you consider yourself a writer and have never done something like this, you're lying.)

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

It takes, like, YEARS after marriage for this one to come to fruition.

Then, one day, it happens. You bust into the house from the summer heat to grab a drink of water because, fuck, it's hot and--

Elliott didn't expect you back for another couple hours. It's summer! It's the busiest season! He thought he had the house to himself for at least another--

--there's Elliott. Just, uhh... well to be honest you're just not quite sure at first what he's doing.

--he doesn't notice you come in then stand stock-still in the doorway for several confused, dumbstruck, delighted seconds.

Meanwhile: his hair is in a ratty knot on top of his head, he has a very round potato in his hand that he holds aloft like an offering to the gods (the ceiling fan, perhaps?) while he stands barefoot, pajamaed, on top of his desk.

and you don't know what you like more--the voice(s) he uses when he's in-character, or how he so often interrupts himself, out of character, with little nitpicking comments.

"--and with every ounce of my power--ounce? don't they measure in metrics? and is the nature of power fluid or, *gasp* gaseous? ...No, has to be fluid--holdable, shapeable. But fluidity of power," he kneels, scribbling something on the one paper left on the desk. "definitely include that somewhere else, yes..." He stands up, clears his throat and resumes, "--and with all the power now within my reach--nope, already holding it--grasp, I can finally--"

His eyes meet yours with a tiny yelp and he freezes.

Neither of you speak. A bead of sweat falls from your face and plips on the floor. He continues to hold the potato aloft.

Finally, "You're home early, dear."

"Just, uh... need some water," you manage. A few seconds pass by, so you helpfully add, "It's hot."

"Indeed."

Another pause.

Your turn. "Sooo... whatcha doin' up there, dear?"

He slowly lowers the potato. "I... was having trouble figuring out the blocking, you see. Frederick just obtained the orb of power and he's quite conflicted about it. So..."

"...so you stand on your desk and offer it to the ceiling fan?"

"No," he pouts, but you know that's a sign that he's incredibly relieved--you're playing along so he plays along. "No, you go stand on a cliff," he motions to the desk, "and seek communion with the Great Omnipotence," he gestures to the ceiling fan.

"Yes, that's... yup. That's what that is."

He clicks his tongue, non-potatoed hand on his hip. "...this might surprise you, but I have a very vivid imagination. Now, can you help me down?--I accidentally kicked my chair away during the villain's soliloquy."

You walk over, despite: "I'm very sure you're more than capable of getting down safely on your own."

He holds out his hand. "And miss the chance to hold your hand and jump into your arms?"

(depending on the stature of the farmer, he very well may! But only if there's not a single ounce of doubt he wouldn't overwhelm the farmer.)

From there, it's gradual, but he little by little lets his guard down. He talks to himself in low muttrances at first, like quiet bickering when he's particularly focused. Then he takes to dramatic readings while he's cooking or cleaning, trying to strike the right cadence and rhythm. Months later he's pushing furniture aside and pacing out choreographed scenes in the living room. In the winter, you're roped into them with him and... he loves it, and he loves you all the more for it.

He uses your help for scenes he's stuck on, gives you a page or two to work with, then tells you to just say and do what feels right! He doesn't always use exactly what you riff up, but it helps point him in the right direction.

He'll do any kind of scene you're comfortable with, but he especially seems fond of putting you in romantic scenes. 😘

even though half of them never show up in his novels or poetry collections??????? and yet???????

He still maintains his composed facade outside of the house, but inside your little house by the pond, all bets are off. You routinely come home with Elliott pacing, muttering, giving a grandiose speech, nitpicking--he stops, but only a pause, to acknowledge you with a peck on the cheek before he whisks himself away again--prophesizing, arguing, nitpicking, etc....

Your home has never been so full of life, laughter, and love.

[katakaluptastrophy]

It's weird church lady hours in my TLT fixated brain, and I want to know what a sacrament is in the religion of the Nine Houses.

Because the terms "sacrament" and "sacramental" pop up a lot in HTN.

Much of Harrow's look seems to be made up of things described as sacramental: her face is painted with a "sacramental skull", the paints requiring appropriate blessing or otherwise are replaceable with blood. She wears sacramental vestments, and even the shorn heads of Ninth House cavaliers are described as "sacramentally shorn".

Most of that sounds very much like the Catholic concept of "a sacramental" - something that's a sign of a spiritual effect, like a blessed rosary, or making the sign of the cross. The painted face, the veiled head of the necromancer, or the shorn head of the cavalier being a sign of divine protection or blessing. Or perhaps those things are understood to be sacraments in and of themselves - outward signs of an inward grace, the blessed paint imparting some kind of spiritual power or effect in and of themselves from Jod or the Tomb. (Longer thoughts about Ninth veiling here)

Harrow prays to the Tomb before replacing Ianthe's arm, and thinks that she is going to "sacramentally adore" Ianthe's bones. (Is that what the kids are calling it these days?).

But a Lyctor is in themself apparently "a walking sacrament".

And then, of course, there's this quote from Jod:

You said... “The cavaliers—”

“Have joined their Lyctors,” he said. “It’s not really a lie. It’s simply a flattening of an awesome…and sacramental…truth."

It was around this point that I realised that Lyctors are like vampires.

The Catholic Church has seven sacraments, but the biggie is the eucharist, which Catholics believe is the actual transformation of bread and wine into the flesh and blood of Jesus, which are consumed by the faithful, uniting them with Him. And the ultimate goal is of course eternal life with God in Heaven.

Vampires have been understood as a sort of inversion of eucharistic theology: a demonic perversion of consuming flesh and blood to gain eternal life.

You can probably work out where this one is going with the immortals who hang out with the guy they think is god and whose powers come from consuming another person both spiritually and physically...

What's interesting about this in universe is that Jod is consciously interacting with concepts from Catholic theology, or at least was when he first decided to start his own special brand of sad girl necromantic space Catholicism. Not that he's particularly consistent with it, since he tells Harrow that Lyctorhood is both sacramental and an indelible sin... But at some point a conscious choice has been made on Lyctors and the concept of sacramentality. And while clearly the metaphysical world that Tamsyn Muir is imagining is one where the spiritual reality is not going to align with either Catholicism or with Jod's long con, the resonance of the vampire mythos feels very apropos.

As far as in world use goes, I want to know if they're just throwing around these terms to mean something like "holy" or if they relate to more specific practices within the religion of the Nine Houses? Are there defined sacraments? What does the religion of the Nine Houses even look like, outside of the Ninth? The Eighth seem to have a holy book and a practice of confession, there seem to be priests and religious orders aplenty even beyond the heretical Ninth, and there seems to be a concept of blessing and of intercessory prayer (but as Abigail Pent points out, there is apparently also no theology of omnipotence, though the jury is still out on omniscience and omnibenevolence, I guess).

[levmada]

AOT MANGA SPOILERS!

i think what Ymir Fritz was after her whole life (and afterlife) was true love. or at least proof of it.

(read ch122 for her full backstory (which is a masterclass in visual storytelling and storytelling in general) but...)

we don't learn a single thing about Ymir as a person beyond that she seems to long for love from the time she was a child.

also, she more than anyone (in the aot universe) knows endless, merciless suffering. from a very young age she knew the world was cruel.

that’s the reason in my mind that - after getting the power of the Titans - she didn’t rebel against the king. she didn’t run away. she did whatever the king asked of her because for once in her life she was wanted. even in this completely backwards and transactional way, all Ymir knows of love is this, even though it’s just slavery at its core.

so the king got married to her and she had her three daughters, who Ymir doesn't find love in either. it seems her children are more proof of her enslavement. Ymir doesn't even find that true love she wants in her own daughters. she's still miserable.

13 years after she got the power, there’s an attempt on the king’s life, without hesitation she protects him. she, effectively, is willing to face certain death to that end.

so we establish this. to Ymir, love = self-sacrifice.

i feel that Ymir finally reaches the end of her ability to "love" the king. this is her breaking point. her final misery among a thousand other miseries she's accepted from him.

she isn't loved. she was willing to give her life, and yet he doesn't love her.

after this rejection, she doesn’t heal herself. we know that in order to use the Titan powers, you have to have a goal (the way Eren learned to transform in The Spoon Incident and later, Reiner doing something similar to Ymir). but she was finished.

Ymir had the power to manufacture a dimension without life or death. the paths. and would spend 2,000 years there doing what she always did and obeying her “king” - the Eldian with the Founding Titan. she wouldn't serve her king directly anymore, but enslavement is Ymir's only definition of love, so that's what she will continue to do.

until she observes a true display of true love.

now (and this is interesting) this is where the concept of the Ackermans come in. i explain in this, this, and this post the Ackermans and the Ackerbond, which is important for understanding this post.

so first, why Mikasa? why would she specifically be the one to free Ymir?

at the time the chapter came out, people criticized Isayama and Eren not knowing how Mikasa was the key the giving Ymir peace. but think about it. Eren doesn't know the depths of Ymir's heart, true. he also got the same exact omnipotence Ymir had thanks to (1) possessing the Founding Titan and (2) effectively having royal blood thanks to the way he enslaved Zeke. Eren has the same exact knowledge that Uri or Frieda had.

but of course, Eren wasn’t BUILT to be god. he has no right to it. Grisha gave him the Founding Titan and he forced Zeke to use his royal blood. Eren says that he started experiencing the past, present, and future all at the same time. of course he wouldn’t know why it’s Mikasa.

what we do know is that the timeline of aot is linear, and can’t be changed. i talk more about that in my Eren character analysis.

the person to ultimately give Ymir peace was going to be Mikasa no matter what. how?

1: being an Ackerman means possessing Titan powers while being a human. would that not also mean that an Ackerman has a special connection to Ymir?

it's different from being a Titan shifter. the potential to awaken their Titan-like powers are their birthright.

2: I linked above my thoughts on the “Ackerbond”. but in a nutshell, Ackermans have the best of both worlds. made to be obedient “Titan-like” tools to protect the king. to be the strongest slaves. while also possessing the best trait of a human being, and that’s the ability to love (as Isayama conveys in aot). so a major trait in Ackermans, i think, is this enhanced ability and propensity to love one special person.

what’s so striking about this from what would be Ymir’s point of view is that, like her, Ackermans have the traits of a Titan like she did, but Ackermans CHOOSE who they are “enslaved” to. it’s not slavery at all. what a shock that must be to someone like Ymir, I mean right?

Levi and Mikasa have their respective moment of “a display of true love” towards their lieges in the series. i want to compare.

Erwin and Levi.

to be succinct, Levi shouldered the weight of Erwin’s sins. [i talk about it more here and in the second half of this post here]. Erwin puts not his life in Levi’s hands, but what comes after. someone putting their trust in their other even in the face of certain death, certain grief, is a major display of true love. (as Isayama conveys in aot that is.)

then, both despite and because of Levi’s love for Erwin, he was strong enough to end his suffering. to let him rest, even though he had the choice to bring him back. that is a major display of true love.

Erwin and Levi both sacrifice aspects of themselves for the other.

what do Levi’s and Mikasa’s moment both have in common?

the willingness to share the weight of their liege’s sins, their darkness, their shortcomings, their most vulnerable sides. that's unconditional love.

But Mikasa’s moment is even more special to Ymir.

Eren’s sins are obviously much more grievous and unforgivable than Erwin’s. that speaks more to how much value Mikasa’s “display of true love” has objectively. and, Mikasa wasn't able to "bring Eren back". (besides obvious plot reasons).

even though it was certain that Eren wasn’t going to be forgiven, that he would have to die, Mikasa’s love never wavered.

both despite and because of Mikasa’s love for Eren, she would be the one strong enough to end his suffering.

Mikasa and Eren both sacrifice aspects of themselves for the other.

Ymir had no one willing or strong enough to end her suffering.

Ymir believes true love is love enduring even in the face of certain grief through mutual sacrifice.

and that’s why she is seen smiling when Mikasa kills Eren. with that, Ymir is finally at peace.

[teecupangel]

*waves banner in the air*

Deity Desmond! Deity Desmond! Deity Desmond!

We have a bit of sorta deity Desmond lying around here in this Tumblr but the ones I could find were “Desmond as Zagreus’ Sage who became the god of the New World” and people worshiping Desmond because he has angel wings can sorta count XD

There was also that one idea where Desmond accidentally pushed his ancestors to different parts of the past which, in turn, made him sorta like their patron but I cannot find it TTATT

Anyway, for this one… let’s change it up a bit.

.

What is a god?

The power to create new life from nothing.

The power to decimate civilizations in an instant.

But is that all?

No.

A god must also have all the knowledge that can be acquired.

One must be omnipotent and omniscience to be considered a god.

One must be eternal.

The beginning and ending.

A being that can neither age nor die.

A lonely existence, forever haunted by the ephemeral happiness and sorrow of their creations.

That is the definition of god that Desmond Miles believed.

That is the definition of god that gave birth to The Reader from the ashes of Desmond Miles.

He is both Desmond Miles and not.

While it took a while, time is meaningless in the Gray…

Time is a worthy sacrifice to fully control the Calculations itself.

The Gray existed beyond time itself.

With the power he achieved by acquiring all the knowledge available in the past, the present and the distant future, he was able to make it more.

The Reader’s personal Olympus.

No.

His sole Heavenly Throne.

The Calculations could only predict the future. It was always meant to see the possible futures.

The Isus planted plans after plans to ensure their chosen Calculations would not be a possible future but the future.

But he can go beyond that.

The throne exists beyond time itself.

And he has access to the Calculations.

No.

He has memorized all the possible Calculations.

He was not restricted as the Isus. He need not plant anything.

All he needs to do is think.

And it shall come to pass.

A god must be omnipotent and omniscience.

That is the god Desmond Miles envisioned.

But Desmond Miles never considered a god selfless.

It was the exact opposite.

Desmond Miles thought that, if god truly did exist, that being would be selfish.

Why else would a supposed god let tragedy plague his bloodline?

And so…

The Reader must be selfish.

The Reader must prioritize his desires.

And his desires was born out of Desmond Miles’ desires and wishes.

He could change the very fabric of the world.

He could bring eternal peace.

By removing mankind’s free will.

But that is not what Desmond Miles want.

That is not what The Reader want.

What he wants was more selfish.

“Umar Ibn-La'Ahad.”

“Who are you?”

“Five days from now, a man in a hood will see you and invite you to Alamut. He will train you to be an Assassin. Accept his offer.”

“An Assassin? An orphan like me? Forced to steal from merchants and run away from guards? Why are you even telling me this?” His eyes were wrong.

They were not gold.

But his face…

It was close enough to the one he wishes to see that he will allow the boy’s insolent tongue.

“Who even are you? A fortune teller? A spy?”

“Me?”

The boy’s breath hitched and he stepped back as the hooded figure, clad in black robes that seemed to blend into the shadows, lift its face.

There was nothing was light underneath the hood.

“I am a god that exists beyond time itself.”

Seeing the fear in the boy’s face, he says…

“Do not be afraid, Umar Ibn-La'Ahad.”

“I am here to bring happiness to your future son.”

[formulaorange]

2023 Fall Anime

This is honestly a loaded season full of new shows based on relatively new manga. Lots to look forward to

Spy x Family - Season 2 One of the most fun SJ series that have come out in a while. Season 1 was killer, high hopes for season 2.

Goblin Slayer 2 I didn't realize they were even making a second season. This was such a killer series. I'm really hoping they don't fall into the many mid-tier fantasy tropes out there in anime right now. I thought the appeal of the show was really Goblin Slayer himself and less about the lackeys along the way. So we'll see how it goes.

Frieren: Beyond Journey's End This is definitely one of my highly anticipated series. It's about an elf who was part of the Hero's party and her life after he dies. (Since elves live longer) Definitely a darker take on fantasy but has some really solid fantasy and adventure vibes.

Rising of the Shield Hero - Season 3 Season 2 was pretty disappointing and slow. While this looks like it'll be more fast paced, it does look like a tournament arc of sorts. I know some aren't a fan of that kind of arc, but honestly I think it's exactly what this series needs to pick things up again. We'll see.

The Faraway Paladin - Season 2 This was legitimately one of my favourite fantasy series. I thought it was really well written and didn't rush things like other series. I'm looking forward to this season.

Sequels/Continuations: Eminence in Shadow - Season 2 killer series with an anti-hero main character. Definitely worth checking out. After-School Hanako-Kun Hanako-kun spin off Dr. Stone Season 3 - Part 2 One of the best novel concept series with nothing else in it's genre to compare to. Definitely didn't drop the ball on the recent seasons and still worth watching. Dead Mount Death Play - Part 2 One that I didn't particularly enjoy, but has a decent sized manga following. Tokyo Revengers - Tenjiku Arc The continuation of the series. Might be just me but it feels like the series fell off after the first season. The Saint's Magic Power is Omnipotent - Season 2 A more mature take on fantasy isekai that just started to get into romance at the end of last season. A solid combo of shoujo genres. The Ancient Magus' Bride - Season 2 Part 2 One that I haven't had a change to check out yet but have only heard good things about. Hypnosismic - Season 2 a weirdly addictive musical/rap series. Unique characters and honestly solid rap battles. One I'll be enjoying. -- Related - Paradox Live - Music battle with what looks to be the same style of animation and solid character design. Definitely worth looking at if you're a fan of Hypmic. The Seven Deadly Sins: Four Knights of the Apocalypse A sequel of SDS. Looks like it could be a fun watch for the fans of the series. New:

Shangri La Frontier A new manga fantasy series. This may be a horrible way to describe but it is what it is - a new age SAO- full dive fantasy game. A gamer who only plays shit games, gets into a new massively popular MMORPG and is op. One that I'm excited for because it ticks all the fantasy game boxes I like.

Undead Unluck A relatively new manga series that gained a lot of traction in the last year or two. A gory action comedy that's super chaotic and a lot of fun.

Shy Brand new hero manga series about a shy girl and her anxieties and struggles going into the hero world who grows and gains confidence as she becomes a better hero.

Ron Kamonohashi's Forbidden Deductions This is a manga series that I have kept forgetting the name of so never got a chance to read but all the covers for the manga look phenomenal. Likely the anime doesn't do him justice but it is what it is. Essentially sherlock in anime form. A PI with issues and the wholesome police detective work together to solve crime. Other New Series: Green - Fantasy Pink - Romance Red - Action Purple - Drama The Kingdoms of Ruins A world where witches were hunted down by humans as science surpassed magic. A kid who was raised by a witch swears revenge on mankind. This honestly looks solid. The animations are very cool looking and the mc seems to be an anti-hero. Will be looking at this one. Under Ninja A well known manga series about modern ninjas. Definitely a unique series for this season. The Apothecary Diaries A historical medical mystery show. I've heard the name before and I've also only heard good things. Will be worth a watch. A Girl & Her Guard Dog The granddaughter of a crime syndicate goes to highschool out of town and the current young boss lies his way into the same school. Would be cute romance if it weren't for the fact she's 15 and he's 26.. Butareba - The Story of a Man Turned into a Pig What the title says. A girl finds him and the story goes from there. I'm Giving the Disgraced Noble Lady I Rescued a Crash Course in Naughtiness The usual light novel title. Honestly, doesn't seem as yikes as I initially thought, might just be harmless breaking the rules kinda thing. Could be fun, also a Capybara that strikes fear into people's hearts. My Daughter Left the Nest and Returned an S-Rank Adventurer Looks like a wholesome series where an adventurer finds a baby, raises it and she becomes so strong she's busy working all the time. Just a cute father daughter relationship in a fantasy setting about her wanting to come take time to see him but being caught up in OP fantasy battles. Ragna Crimson Dragons vs Humanity - a human and a dragon team up to destroy all the dragons. Action fantasy series. Berserk of Gluttony I honestly added this because I thought it was hilarious. Looks like a combo of knock offs - the Gluttony skill from Tensura (reincarnated as a slime) and the mc being called Fate with the main girl who looks exactly like Sabre. I'll be skipping but its' here so you know.

[she-posts-nerdy-stuff]

New series idea: analysing my favourite (underrated) lines from Six of Crows

I feel like I haven't given you any analysis in a while, and I've had this idea for some time now so I thought it was worth giving it a try. This is going to be a list of my personal favourite quotes in Chapter 2 of Six of Crows with explanation/analysis for any that I have an explanation/analysis for - but if a famous or popular quote isn't included then it's not because I don't like it, it's just because I don't feel I have anything new to add to the existing analyses around it. And yeah, if you guys like this then I'll make it a more regular thing and go through chapter by chapter (probably sometimes including multiple chapters in one post), so let me know what you think!

(Also, I chose to start with Chapter 2 on purpose because I don't have loads to say about Chapter 1, but if anyone is interested I'm open to trying it in the future)

"every favour came with enough strings attached to stage a puppet show" - ugh words cannot explain my love of this quote. Not only is this a gorgeous and vibrant metaphor that brings forth very clear imagery, it also achieves two different concepts relating to the idea of the "puppet show". Firstly, we have the idea that Kaz is the puppet master and Ketterdam is his stage; he is in complete control, he can bend the city to his whims, and it's ultimate his say that can make or break someone. This is definitely the image we're given of Kaz in the opening two chapters, and this singular line really reinforces that, however the rest of the book and many of the descriptions in Crooked Kingdom unravel this view very quickly. This description far better fits Pekka Rollins, which brings me onto the other concept relating to the "puppet show": the question of who it actually is pulling the strings. Arguably Kaz is a puppet on Rollins' stage, and Rollins a puppet on the Merchant Councils'. each has power but each is ultimately at the whims of the other. This brings worth the suggestion that something darker is at play and that there's far more to Kaz than initally meets the eyes before we've even met him, so in short it's just completely and utter genius.

"Kaz hated a puzzle he couldn't solve, and he and Inej had concocted a hundred theories to account for the murder - none of which satisfied" - again, Kaz has thus far said a single line, and not one with a lot of information in it ("Yes and no. It's always good to have a country in debt to you, makes for friendlier negotiations) and yet we know so much about him - and even some details about his relationship with Inej! It even tells us a lot about Inej; we've been presented with a figure heralded as near-omnipotent in his city, someone no-one wants to be on the wrong side of, someone who has complete control over every conversation he has with you, and she is someone with whom he will spend hours trying to solve a riddle? So then, the reader is forced to think, what kind of power does she has? What makes her worthy of his closeness, why does he trust her, and why does she know him well enough to so intimately know his likes and dislikes? Inej hasn't even spoken yet.

"But it didn't feel neutral to Inej. It felt like the hush of the woods before the snare yanks tight and the rabbit starts to scream" - ok most of my enjoyment of this quote is just of the beautiful prose, however I would like to add that all six Crows experienced this sort of 'calm before the storm' leading up to the most painful experiences of their lives - Wylan thinking he could go to music school, Inej at the beach with her parents and calling sleepily to the man she though was her father, Kaz staying at the cafe and meeting Margit and Saskia, Matthias knowing he was going to be a big brother, Jesper seeing his mother for the last time when she picked him up and hugged him even though he was up past his bedtime, Nina feeling that she had purpose and loving the way she could help her country - so this could be considered foreshadowing.

" 'Care to place a wager?' Jesper asked.

'I'm not going to bet on my own death,'

Kaz flipped his hat onto his head and ran his gloved fingers along the brim in a quick saulte. 'Why not Bolliger? We do it every day,' "

"Kaz had done his best to teach her, but she didn't quite have his way with breaking and entering, and it took her a few tries to finesse the lock" - my main source for liking this quote comes from an analysis I did a while ago when someone asked me about comapring this quote and Kaz's self-proclaimed "shoddy job" of teaching her to pick locks. It's a while since I posted that so I'll run through it here briefly, basically it's very indicative of their relationship dynamic. Whilst both place the other on a pedestal, they do it in different ways, and Kaz particularly often glorifies Inej and almost finds it difficult to accept that she, like anyone, must be flawed. So if she fails at something, like picking locks as well as he can, and she cannot possibly be flawed then the error must be in his teaching - it can never be with her. It's also a glaring example of Kaz's self-destructive nature. My other reason for liking this quotes is just that it once again tells us about the characters so early on and without having to directly explain it to us - we know Kaz is good with locks because he tried to teach Inej and she isn't as good as him, but she still manages to get it open.

' "I'm a business man,' he'd told her, 'No more, no less,'

'You're a thief, Kaz,'

'Isn't that what I just said?' " - I ADORE this, but honestly all I can say for analysis is that it sums up the entire theme of the novels beuatifully.

"Now he looked like some kind of priest come to preach to a group of circus performers" - this sets up a great parallel that I've mentioned before in one of my "little details you might have missed/forgotten" posts, but it's also interesting to have it come from Inej's perspective since she's incredibly religious and performed as a travelling acrobat with her family. It's probably drawn from personal experience, someone in dark clothes who judges the brightness of Suli traditional clothing and/or culture and tries to preach religion to a group who've already long found it because they don't align with thier idea of religion. It's even possible that she links that idea with Kaz, not because of his actions but because he's from a country that has perversely sexualised and condemned her culture and he dresses like the rich merchants who would preach this exact kind of message - and possibly even have visited her at the Menagerie, where she was forced to appropriate her own heritage and way of life for the enjoyment of those who look down it with no reason for doing so.

"Inej pitied the boy who might die alone with no one to comfort him in his last hours or who might live and spend his life as an exile. But the night's work wasn't over yet, and the Wraith didn't have time for traitors" - this is one of the few but fabulous examples we get of the idea that "Inej" and "the Wraith" are separate entities; Inej being the girl she was, the girl she should have been, and the Wraith being a creation of necessity to aid survival. Inej is a religious young woman from Ravka who has been through far more than she should have done, but the Wraith was born and raised on the blood-soaked streets of Ketterdam and has every intention of surviving them - no matter the cost. This concept is only mentioned a few times, however it runs a beautiful parallel with the distinction between Kaz Rietveld and Kaz Brekker, or Kaz and Dirtyhands depending on how you look at it.

Ok I realise this is a pretty long post but thanks for reading it if you got this far, and I really enjoyed making this so please let me know if you guys would enjoy seeing more. And, in summary, Leigh Bardugo is a genius