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nayatarot777 · 5 months

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What Are Your Future Spouse’s Pet Peeves?

• Pile One •

The first pet peeve that your future spouse has is people underestimating their power - or other people’s power. You know when someone views you as someone who’s weak and defenceless? They can’t stand shit like that. This might pertain to the way that people treat you and they won’t be happy about others viewing you as someone who they can just say and do whatever they want to. If you also experience any demonisation of your power on a spiritual level (for example, if you’re a witch, a medium, a psychic, a tarot reader, etc) then this will piss them off too. Another pet peeve of theirs is when they witness someone being made to feel guilty for something that they shouldn’t have to carry around guilt for. Any type of gaslighting and manipulation will really send them over the edge, and they’ll be ready to raise hell over shit like that 😂. They also hate when people try to suppress their anger or when they’re told how they “should” or “shouldn’t” feel. When someone tries to suppress their emotions and they feel like they’re not allowed to show their true feelings without being dismissed, it triggers something within them. Your future spouse may have a history of experiencing their emotions being suppressed and disregarded - especially from childhood - and they’ve had to work hard to even get comfortable with showing their feelings. So for someone to overstep that line and try to control the feelings that they show? Yeah…it’s not gonna go down well 💀.

How Does Your Future Spouse Handle Conflict?

• Pile Two •

Your future spouse really hates when people keeps secrets from them. And not just personal secrets, but secrets that include them or that would affect them in some way. They’ve experienced throughout life too many secrets already and they don’t like it. At all. Also, people talking shit behind their back. Or talking about them to others without addressing the issue with them directly. They also hate any form of injustice. I feel like your future spouse is someone who will take justice into their own hands if no one else is willing to step up and serve someone their karma. Another pet peeve is those who keep other people’s secrets despite knowing damn well that they should expose that person for all of the skeletons that they have in their closet too. And I’m also seeing that your future spouse has a huge love for Earth and nature, so when they see people littering, destroying and harming the environment, hearing about animals being poached, etc will upset them greatly too. Going back to the message about secrets, your future spouse hates when people try to pry too much into their personal business. The types of people who try to rush into getting to know them are not met with compliance from your future spouse. They’re someone who’s slow to open up and they hate when people don’t respect that.

How Does Your Future Spouse Handle Conflict?

• Pile Three •

The first pet peeve of your future spouse that I’m seeing is people who refuse to see the ugly sides of themselves. The shadow side. Those who don’t see themselves for who they truly are (the good AND the bad) gets on your spouse’s nerves to the fullest extent. They can’t stand those people who want to go through life acting like they never do anything wrong, as if they’re perfect. And this annoyance comes out the most when they’re trying to get someone to see the error of their ways and the other person is being so dismissive and stubborn. Basically when someone’s ego gets in the way of knowing themselves thoroughly. They also hate when people choose to use escapist tendencies instead of facing their issues directly. And this mainly applies to the situations in which people becoming escapists affects other people around them. Your future spouse also hates people who don’t show up as their authentic selves. I feel like because they can see through that shit and it makes them feel like so many people are fraudulent. The last pet peeve that I’m seeing is when things from the past pop up a second time around. Whether this is people bringing up what was supposed to be dead and buried already, or people from the past thinking that they can weasel their way back into your spouse’s life after some time has passed after a separation and ending.

How Does Your Future Spouse Handle Conflict?

• Pile Four •

I’m seeing two messages about responsibility: your future spouse hates when people don’t take responsibility over themselves, their own actions, their life decisions, etc. And the reason why they hate this is because they understand that when people lack personal responsibility over themselves, that responsibility unfairly falls onto someone else who shouldn’t have to deal with it. They’re also the type of person who can’t stand seeing people not giving someone their praise for achievements in life, no matter how big or small. They don’t like that unsupportive energy that they see coming from people sometimes. Your future spouse is someone who is extremely clairvoyant - they see beneath the surface of peoples actions and energy, and what they say (or what they don’t). And they can’t stand when people act like they’re “reading too deeply” into something just because they bother to see the truth behind people and situations. That’s also why they can’t stand liars 😂. It feels like an insult to their intelligence and their perceptiveness and they don’t stand for any of that.

How Does Your Future Spouse Handle Conflict?

#pick a card #psychic readings #pac #tarot reading #pick a photo #pac reading #pick a picture #tarot #divination #spirituality #pick a card reading #pick a pile #tarot pick a card #pac readings #pac tarot

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vampiricgf · 27 days

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VARIOUS STORMS & SAINTS

friends dad leon kennedy x f!reader

wc : 2.5k+

warnings : graphic description of animal injury (the animal is fine tho), blood, age gap (he's older and reader is in their twenties), mention of bad family life, intoxication, car sex, semi public, fingering, unprotected sex, creampie

not really written with a specific leon in mind but he's def late thirties-mid forties in my head. also the whole animal injury thing is a method I used to illustrate his projection onto the reader, it's not there for no reason but it is immediately beneath the cut so beware

He knows he’s not some kind of cradle robber, knows there’s really not that many years between you two but it may as well be an eternity. An ocean of time stretching out between your two selves, heavy and sticky as molasses. You’re vibrant in that way that only twenty somethings are, like theres this sheen of iridescence coating your skin. Just like that evening in the rain.

The first time you really met properly he’d run over a cat. It was grizzly, horrible. He’d been driving you back to your apartment after learning you had car trouble on the way over earlier to spend time with his daughter, your little hatchback left sitting forlornly in his driveway to be towed to a shop the next day as he wasn’t about to let a young girl potentially get stranded on the side of the road while it was getting dark. “I don’t want to have to pick you up, buddy,” he muttered, assessing the bodily damage while the creature spasmed pitifully and the rain reached a high roar.

Your bag slid from your shoulder as you crouched beside him, one hand pressing down into the mud to steady yourself. “I’ll pick him up. If you drive.”

He’s not sure but the look on his face must’ve betrayed the small sliver of hope he had that the animal could be saved.

You two worked efficiently, bundling the cat as best you could onto an improvised plastic bag stretcher, lifting from underneath and burying your hands even further in mud in an effort to make the transition smoother. It had mewed pathetically, one paw working the air in a feeble attempt at pushing the pain away. It was odd to feel such sudden, deep kinship with a cat.

“You know where there’s a vet?” he’d asked you after fumbling to get behind the wheel of the car while acutely aware of your presence in a newfound way. You were his daughters friend from community college, just being helpful, so he waved his tension off as worry for the little creature in your lap.

“Yeah,” you said, clearly trying to recall, “Near the dentists place by the supermarket, my parents always took our cat there.”

He’d said something to affirm he heard you, pulling away with the wipers on full blast, forcefully slicing through the deluge sheeting the windshield. Doing his best to drive smoothly, so as not to cause the cat anymore pain.

“How’s he doing?”

It had stopped whimpering in your lap, instead panting gutterally. In between flashes of streetlight he could see the blood seeping into your clothes as the little plastic bag could no longer contain the sheer volume on it’s surface. You didn’t acknowledge it at all, didn’t express any discomfort or disgust.

“He’ll be alright, he just needs to get stitched up.”

“I didn’t even see him,” He couldn’t help the explanation pouring from his lips, suddenly very focused on making sure you didn’t think of him poorly because of this.

“It’s okay,” you said, looking down in your lap while your hands hovered over the cat, “it happens sometimes. Not your fault.”

Thankfully he found the vets office quickly, killing the ignition in record time to get out and wrench open the passenger door, ushering you and the wet bundle in your arms to the front door. The receptionist seemed to be unimpressed with the urgency, gesturing to you both to wait while she scurried behind a door, murmuring voices barely leaking past the threshold.

The veterinarian that stepped out was a small man, older with wire rimmed glasses. He opened the door to an examination room fully, waving you two inside.

“He’s been hit by a car,” you said, beating him to it as you gingerly laid the animal down, allowing Leon to see the full extent of the gore staining your clothes. It looked like some of the blood had even dripped and run down between your thighs, staining the jean material in almost lewdly directed streaks.

He assessed the cat fairly quickly, leaving you two to stand in awkward idleness as Leon tried not to linger too long on the sight of you.

“The injuries look worse than they are,” he spoke, turing to eye the two of you, “does the cat belong to you?”

“No,” he spoke for the first time, clearing his throat before continuing, “I, uh, hit him on the side of the road.”

The older man gave him a level look before speaking. “Poor thing, lucky though you two brough him here quickly at least. We’ll get him fixed up fine, hopefully he’s microchipped.”

Walking out through reception Leon was aware how insane it looked, a young girl practically drenched in blood walking out as if nothing abnormal had occured. He didn’t like the image of it. Didn’t like the forced recollection of all the other times he’d seen some unnamed women soaked in carnage. You practically wore an apron of the stuff.

In the car there were spots, about the size of a silver dollar, on the passengers seat and the familiar scent of metal hung suspended in the air so heavily he could almost taste it.

You sat in silence, staring ahead with all the acute silence of a shock victim. Your skin had a semi sheen of sweat on it mixed with the rainwater, catching the light in an almost tantalizing way as it glittered against the exposed skin of your neck and chest.

He remembers feeling cold as he started the car back up, resumed the path to your place in heavy silence.

Rounding the corner back onto the street where you told him you lived he spoke again.

“It is my fault. I just didn’t see him.”

His fascination only grew from that restless night spent tossing and turning thinking of you, poor pretty girl all drowned in blood. How unemotional you’d been. A part of him recognized the appeal was that he was projecting himself onto you in no small part, suddenly ascribing to you certain characteristics he possessed. He knew from the vauge talks with his daughter that you had some trouble in your background, maybe a not so great upbringing or bad boyfriends, things like that.

It made him feel protective of you all of a sudden, you whom he really only properly paid attention to that night for the first time.

That’s what motivated him to call in the morning and have your car handled himself, paying the exorbitant fees and for the tow despite the eye watering amount. If you didn’t have anyone looking out for you then it was only the right thing to do. You seemed like a good kid, going to school and he knew you worked at some shitty diner in town to pay for your place. You were a good friend to his own kid, who god knows had been forced through enough upheaval thanks to him.

He’d gotten your number from her, just to call and tell you your car was taken car of, he’d take you to the shop to pick it up even if you didn’t have a way to get there. That’s all it was. All it was supposed to be.

Soon enough, as the days turned to weeks then months, he found himself reaching for his phone more and more, texting you just to check in. It was natural to worry about you, you were young and working hard. It was like worrying about his own kid. But it wasn’t long before those texts developed certain undertones, although he couldn’t pinpoint an exact moment when the shift happened but it’s what led to the present moment.

A rare phone call from you, around two in the morning, and lucky for you it was a night he was home. Something about being at a party but some shit was happening you didn’t want to be part of, too fucked up to drive though so pretty please Mr. Kennedy could you give me a ride home? The way your voice sounded, pleading, cutesy and a little drunk coming through the receiver immediately and shamefully made him semi hard as he sat up in bed, head hanging low and brushing the hair from his face with his opposite hand as he felt the change in bloodflow listening to you speak.

What kind of sicko pops a semi when a girl thats best friends with his own kid calls him for help? Jesus you need to get laid. With a woman your own age.

But he’d agreed, assuring you it was fine, just give him the address and wait outside he’d pick you up. There was a strange sense of pride in his head, that you thought to call him to come get you before anyone else. Did you see him as dependable? How exactly did you see him, anyway?

Behind the wheel his grip turns white knuckle. If he doesn’t make an effort to barricade those ideas things could quickly turn sour. Your tenuous connection aside, it was bad enough that you were only in your twenties. He was a old man comparatively, long since having lost that sparkle of youthfulness in favor of the dull realities of the world, the horrors of his job. And what would you want with a man his age anyway when you were doing exactly what any young person should be doing, getting drunk in the company of those most like yourself. Although he’d be lying if he said the idea of you drunkenly clinging to some nameless faceless boy didn’t make jealousy shoot through his head like a presicion bolt.

And he thinks of the cat then, so many months ago now. The way you’d sat stone faced in this very same car, clothes ruined with it’s blood and dried mud cracking on your hands. You’d reminded him of himself, and in some strange way it was like that incident cemented you together.

But those thoughts vanish as he spots you under a streetlight, haloed in burnt orage light as you leaned against it like it was the only thing in the world that could keep you upright. He pulls over with a start, making the car jerk as it shifts gear before the drivers door is slamming behind him.

“Hey, you okay?” he already knows the answer will be no. You look like you’ve had firmly too much to drink, shivering in an outfit so skimpy it makes his blood pressure skyrocket as he takes you in.

“Mr. Kennedy, m’so happy to see you,” you slur it with relief and that protectiveness surges once again. You pay his awkward posture no mind as you grab for his bicep to keep your balance, stumbling in heels.

“You know you can call me Leon, now come on, you’re gonna freeze to death out here in those clothes.”

You flash him a smile, eyes unfocused but he could see the redness in your sclera even with the dimly lit half dark. So you’d clearly been dabbling in weed too. Before he can admonish you as he guides you to sit in the passenger seat you do something that makes the words die in his throat.

You cradle his jaw in your hands, fingers moving against the stubble he forgot to shave like you’re testing the sensation against your skin before placing your lips to his cheek in a soft, sweet kiss. It makes his adrenaline spike, coursing through his body like he just took an injection of the stuff and it takes a superhuman effort to not grab your soft cheeks and slam his lips on yours.

Tension filled the car, along with the smell of cheap booze and marijuana that clung to you like a second skin as he reversed into a three point turn to get back towards your place.

"You mad at me?" You ask and the words put his heart out of time. It sounds so... Small coming from you, endearing in some unnameable way.

"Why would I be? You're an adult, aren't you?"

You considered his words, wrapping a piece of hair around your finger as if what he asked carried more weight than he was aware of.

"So since I'm an adult is it okay to kiss you again?"

It was like a one man, all mental car crash. A body in free fall despite being firmly held in place by safety restraints and boxed inside a compact space. He was glad to be stopped at a red light then, but soon enough his eyes drifted to a patch of gravel that went off from the shoulder of the road, towards a little crop of trees. Secluded.

The decision was made before he realized, had been made the moment he'd seen you soaked in blood at that vets office all those months ago. You were like a shard of what could have been, all those years ago if his life had been normal, stayed normal. He would've loved you had he met you then. Kind, bright, alive. Maybe this scene would've played out in a similar way, that babyfaced version of himself picking you up and being jittery as hell thinking about getting you home, getting you all to himself.

You don't raise any questions as he pulls off the shoulder, the interior of the car cast in a thicker darkness thanks to the tree cover. Maybe you realize that you're in the car with essentially two people, the man he is now and the one that could've existed. Do you know how badly both ache to touch you, that it feels like being on fire?

As the car stops the air inside nearly crackles aloud between your bodies, he can feel the way his lungs inflate with air so acutely it's almost painful. But it has to be you, has to be your choice to start this.

And you don't keep him waiting long, unbuckling before turning to face him in the dark and leaning forward until one of your elbows is on the center console and you're holding your face as your eyes scan his. Even while buzzed it was clear you weren't incoherent, which put him at ease fractionally.

"So, can I kiss you again?" You ask again, half glazed eyes holding his, your tongue peeking out to run over your bottom lip and he's never wanted someone to kiss him so badly before.

"Or are you gonna make me beg, Leon?" You drag out the sound of his name with your voice dropped to a whisper and he could've moaned like a bitch in heat right then.

And suddenly it didn't matter that you were his daughters friend, it didn't matter that there was a canyon of time and experience between you, all that mattered was getting his hands on you in the next second and that's exactly what he did. He may be an occasional asshole but he's not going to make anyone as beautiful as you are beg him for anything.

The kiss he yanks you into is searing, one calloused hand on the back of your neck like he was scruffing a naughty animal while your teeth clicked together and your tongues slid over one another in something more akin to snakes slipping against each other. The scent of you is like getting a contact high, the muskiness of sweat and weed mingled with something sweet layering beneath it. Something distinctly you.

Your tongue tastes like sugary liquor, something vaguely vanilla enough that you can slam down shot after shot before realizing you've had too many. He can feel the spit clinging to his lips but it doesn't matter, not when you're climbing over the console and he's fumbling blind for the bar that'll set the seat all the way back.

When he finds it you gasp as both your bodies are jolted backwards, your hands resting against his chest to steady yourself and he thinks every man on earth would kill for the view he has right now. Your chest, nearly on full display thanks to the little halter top you're wearing, was heaving and he was enraptured by the way your breasts moved beneath the flimsy fabric.

His hands stretched out with purpose, grabbing the moldable flesh and kneading it between his fingers as you rolled your head back and his hips gave an experimental roll sending your body upwards like you were on a boat rocking in waves. You moan at the motion, the sensation, knowing he may be older than you but clearly still in shape enough.

When you bend down to capture his lips again his hands find the strings tied together at your neck, easily undoing them and allowing himself full access to your chest, breaking the kiss to mark a sloppy spit trail down your throat until he could lightly press his teeth against the soft flesh of your breast. The way you whined and laced your fingers in his hair spurred him on, sucking on your nipple and moving to leave splotches of deep red on the plump skin before lavishing the other breast with the same attention.

Your hips grind down against him, feeling the way he was straining against the jeans he'd pulled on in his rush to get to you. Truthfully he'd never been so hard in his life, felt his cock throbbing and aching to be buried inside you like if he didn't he'd keel over. Thick fingers pull your microskirt up to bunch around your hips, exposing what felt like cute silk panties to his rough fingertips and briefly he wishes it was a little brighter out so he could see them properly. Maybe he'll buy you new ones after this.

As his index strokes along the gusset of them it's a boost to his ego, feeling how wet you already were, how it made you mewl so pathetically against the shell of his ear.

"I know, baby," he cooed at you, half teasing half mocking as your hips bucked against his hand, chasing even a sliver of friction for your own satisfaction. A selfish streak is alluring, always has been to him.

But he's not cruel and once more he doesn't make you beg, pushing two fingers up inside you with ease and feeling your slick walls constrict around the intrusion instantly, squeezing and sucking them in and it was enough to rob him of the air in his lungs.

"Want more," you gasp against the crook of his neck as his fingers pumped in and out of you, soft squelching filling the car with every movement. "Please-"

You cut yourself off with a low keen as his fingers curl against a particular spot that he tucks the knowledge of away to keep, a sweet spot that makes you pant like a dog in his lap and he can't help but marvel at how adorably needy you are at this moment.

"It's all yours," he says, gravelly, as your hands slide down to his waistband, feeling for the button and zipper which you undo with impressive speed. It was flattering that you were so desperate for his cock in your hands, pulling him from his boxers and letting out a little moan feeling the size of him. He wasn't dealing with a monster but he always had been confident that he was well endowed enough to please, something your reaction only reenforced.

Being in a car meant there was little room for movement but you managed to make do on top of him, him holding your panties to the side while you lined the head of his leaking, flushed cock up with your entrance. The slide down threatened to dissolve his vision in a haze of static, the feeling of you on his fingers paled in comparison to this.

It was like you were made for him, made for this. The way your pussy opened up around him as you slid down inch by inch, mouth dropping open until you reached the hilt of him and a sharp groan fell from your lips.

His hands gripped your hips, rubbing slow circles against them as you adjusted to the feeling of him inside you. It was also for his own benefit, an anchor against the floodwaters in his mind that threatened to sweep him away. The last thing he wanted was to lose control or focus, slam up into you and end up hurting you. It has to be at your pace, this time.

But you don't keep him waiting, to your credit. You lean back down, nibbling on his bottom lip as you start rolling your hips slowly, getting a feel for a rhythm and he matches it when you fall into one you prefer. Slow, steady rocking of his cock up against the spot he found earlier, the one that makes you whine and whimper. He's vaguely conscious of the windows fogging, the car being jostled by the repetitive motion of your hips meeting and your pussy greedily swallowing his length.

He's never been much of a religious man, but in this moment with you he thinks he could be. Maybe god is in a lover, a warm body and soft skin, the way your voice goes higher as you say his name again and again. He doesn't want to hear anyone else speak it, like it's a secret only between the two of you.

His arms, still strong and corded with muscle, keep you held against him as he picks up the rhythm entirely, pumping up into you with relentless fervor as your cries reach a fever pitch and the first battering of his impending orgasm hits him like a punch to the gut.

Too soon, too soon. But there's nothing that could stop the thick, sticky ropes of cum from flooding your waiting cunt, the throbbing of the head of his cock against your walls a stark reminder that he's old and that it's been far too long since he's cum in anything that wasn't his own hand. All at once he's back within himself as he is, not a virile young man anymore but a world weary one. A lonely one.

His eyes are closed but he can feel your lips marking a path up from the neck of his tshirt, the column of his throat, his jaw, and before your lips find his again you speak.

"Come back with me, for the night?" It's barely audible, sends shivers wracking his spine as the words move over his mouth, crawling down his throat.

And for the first time since he was even younger than you he thinks of Saint Jude. Patron of lost causes. Maybe someone finally took pity on him, one of the most lost of all.

#leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy smut #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x you #resident evil x reader #resident evil smut #txt ☆ˎˊ˗

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sophrosynesworld · 3 months

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Community Service (pt.1)

Class 1A has gotten a bit cocky with all the pro hero work they've been doing. To reconnect with their local community, each pair of students must complete 50 hours of community service before the end of the semester. And as luck (or curse) would have it, you've been paired with Katsuki Bakugo.

"Community service?" Mineta whines as our project outlines are handed out. The neatly printed papers detail our upcoming group assignment, while murmurs of discontent spread through the room like wildfire.

"It makes sense," Todoroki replies. “Locals should see us helping out. It’ll help them see us as heroes, not just normal teenagers.” He glances around, noticing a few classmates exchanging skeptical looks and hushed comments about the project.

"I don't care about a bunch of stupid idiots who can't help their own damn selves," Bakugo mutters under his breath, slumping further back into his chair with his hands stuffed into his pockets. I pity whoever's partnered with him. Stifling a laugh, I refocus on our clearly annoyed teachers.

"The committee feels that you are forgetting the main reason for being a hero: maintaining harmony and peace," Professor Mic reverberates. A few eyes glance at Bakugo, making him sink even lower in his seat.

"This isn’t a bad thing," Mr. Aizawa reassures us. "I've already assigned partners. You’ll need to follow the listed directions and get your papers stamped afterward. Take the rest of today to plan your volunteer options."

I glance down at my own paper, scanning the list of assigned partners. My eyes land on my name paired with Bakugo. Great. I look over at him; he’s still slumped in his chair with a scowl etched on his face.

Around the room, reactions are mixed. Midoriya is enthusiastically discussing the project with Iida, their heads already bent over their papers. Uraraka and Tsuyu exchange excited smiles, clearly happy to be working together. Meanwhile, Mineta groans loudly when he sees he's paired with Sero, who just shrugs.

"Looks like we're partners," I say, trying to stay positive.

"Just stay out of my way,"

"We need to work together if we want to get a good grade on this," I insist.

"Whatever."

Present Mic claps his hands to get our attention again. "A good day as a hero is carrying groceries for an elderly person. You shouldn't get used to saving the world every day."

With that, he dismisses us to start planning. Bakugo stands up abruptly, grabbing his backpack and pushing past me. I quickly grab my own bag and pull it over my shoulder, following him out the door, struggling to keep pace with his long strides.

"What kind of community service should we do?" I question, trying to engage him.

"I don't care," he snaps, not bothering to look back. "Just pick something and get it done."

"How about we go to the local animal shelter and walk dogs? I think I saw that on the list." I reach into my half-open bookbag and pull out the paperwork, trying to walk and read.

"Yeah, whatever," he says dismissively.

I slow my pace until I come to a stop. Bakugo doesn’t even glance back; he just turns the corner and heads out the front doors. Why did Mr. Aizawa pair me with him? I question my teacher's thought process for the hundredth time.

Taking a deep breath, I force myself to refocus. Complaining won't change anything. Maybe Mr. Aizawa is testing me. Despite Bakugo's attitude, I know he can be a capable partner when he wants to be.

Just maybe, this could be an opportunity for both of us to grow.

#mha #my hero academia #mha x reader #katsuki bakugo #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #fanfic #katsuki bakugou #mha bakugou #bakugo katsuki #class 1a #my hero academy fanfiction #enemies to friends to lovers

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forgedsplendor · 1 year

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Gojo Satoru: or, how the eyes are the windows into the soul.

everyone and their mothers have talked about the kfc breakup scene to hell and back, we've gotten a dozen and more think pieces about the episode on twitter and tumblr and wherever else, but I really needed to add my two cents because it's been on my mind ever since I watched the episode.

something fun I've noticed about mappa's adaption of jjk is the way they animate gojo's technique—specifically in relation to his eyes.

in season one, gojo's eyes were always animated very... otherworldly.

they're always glowing and sparkling in this weird, uncanny way, which is kind of the point: gojo is the six eyes, after all, and considering the anime's animated and colored medium compared to the original manga's black and white, paneled format, it's a good way to adapt and demonstrate gojo's powers in the way the manga cannot. it also serves to visually separate gojo from the rest of the characters; as the strongest, he is different from the rest.

however, when season two's teasers were first released, there's a particularly interesting detail...

... his actually normal looking eyes.

and, yeah! that makes sense. as much as gojo and geto's high school selves love to tout around the title of "the strongest", it's undeniable that compared to his twenty-eight year old self, this gojo is much weaker, incapable of holding up his technique indefinitely, and incapable of using red, hollow purple, his domain expansion, and reverse curse technique: all of which his adult self are using passively.

so, i had personally figured that these were the eyes of an unawakened gojo. that once he mastered reverse curse technique, his eyes would start to glow like his adult self. however... that was not the case! as we can see...

... they still glow! but only when he was using his technique. once he puts it down...

... the glowing fades as well.

especially in these last few screenshots, mappa establishes the difference between "invulnerable" ( untouchable, literally, with his infinity technique up ) gojo and "vulnerable" ( infinity down, so things can now touch him ) gojo, both literally and mentally. ( let's put a pin in that. ) after geto's reassurance gojo physically lets down his defences of his technique, and thinks that that they're safe... leading to toji taking advantage of that naïveté, and the rest is history.

it's important to note both, as it puts his adult self into a new context: we know that after coming back from the dead, gojo's mastery of reverse curse technique allows him to use his infinity indefinitely without frying his brain.

it's funny, because this parallels his way of coping, as we see here:

curse technique reversal: red. the opposite to blue's attract, it instead repels.

after going through the traumatic events of hidden inventory, gojo... feels nothing. he pushes away these feelings, numbing himself to them instead.

he activates his infinity...

... and becomes untouchable. or, in other words...

... invulnerable. ( physically and emotionally. )

at the beginning of episode five, we don't get very many close shots of gojo's eyes, but he is in the middle of demonstrating his new grasp of infinity; in contrast to geto's spiral, the main focus of the episode and premature death as a whole, we get shots of gojo's back, his gaze obstructed by his spectacles, his face obscured entirely...

... or simply just far away.

to be fair, this all is in geto's point of view, and is used specifically to higlight the canyon that's opened up between the two, but the visual language is the same. gojo is untouchable.

well. up until...

though it's hard to see the state of his eyes with his spectacles in the way. but this is very quickly remedied just a few minutes later.

... his eyes are not glowing.

infinity is not activiated. his technique is down. gojo satoru is vulnerable. literally, in the sense that his technique is not in use, because he is dealing with a friend and not an enemy user, and mentally, because he is angry and upset and horrified and in shock in a way he was not with amanai's death.

as we know, gojo is not one to react emotionally. when kuroi was kidnapped, he did not worry: simply thought of another solution. when toji ambushed them, he did not panic: simply asked geto to complete the mission as he stayed behind to fight him off.

however, with geto's defection...

he yells, makes himself bleed.

when amanai died, he'd said he felt nothing. he'd floated in the air, weightless, marveling at the beauty of the world above and around him.

with geto's defection...

while nakamura's voice acting and the incredible animated character acting was more than enough to get his anguish across, using the tells of gojo's technique as well was the icing on the cake.

the eyes are the windows to the soul, after all, and in this moment, intentionally or not, his were blown wide open as his world crumpled apart.

#jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #gojou satoru #satoru gojo #satoru gojou #meta #satosugu #stsg #erm. first time im doing this. LOL #jjk meta #jjk #arte rambles

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rainba · 5 months

Note

Since you made a fic of Luka kidnapping Kairos and his darling, I'm lowkey curious about what would happen if Kairos kidnapped them both. Like it seems kind of unlikely, but I'm super curious. (1/2)

Also could I be 🪻 anon??

— 🪻

Hihiii! :D Yes, you can be 🪻 anon!

If Kairos kidnapped the both of you? Yeah, it is very unlikely- and honestly, he would be an absolute disaster. The entire situation would be.

(￣▽￣*)ゞ

cw: nsfw, kidnapping, Kairos and Luka being their usual selves, minor violence

GN reader like usual :3c

Kairos would definitely panic when he first kidnaps you both. It would be something he hardly thinks through- a spur-of-the-moment type of thing. So, he'd have to improvise a lot of stuff at first. (´-ω-`)

There’re too many windows in his living room, and Kairos doesn’t want to keep anyone tied up in his bathroom or kitchen or anything– so Kairos would have no choice but to keep both you and Luka tied up in his bedroom.

Kairos would be so scared of Luka, despite the fact that he’s the hostage, and not the other way around. ^^;;;;

Kairos would tie up Luka’s wrists behind his back, then wrap duct tape around them, and also put cheap plastic cuffs on them. The same thing with Luka’s applies to Luka’s ankles– and then he’d also be leashed up to the heaviest object in Kairos’ bed.

Is it excessive? Yes. Is Kairos willing to take any chances?? Absolutely not! (o^ ^o)

Meanwhile, Kairos would just have you tied up very lightly, and you’ll be forced to reside in his bed. >_< He would surround you with stuffed animals, pillows, and blankets. It's basically a nest of sorts.

Kairos wouldn’t really know what to do. He's aware that he can’t just keep Luka bound and gagged forever– but at the same time, he knows that the second he lets that man have even an ounce of freedom, everything will be over.

Luka knows this, too.

Every time Kairos undoes the duct tape around Luka’s mouth, he’s quick to throw snide remarks at his trembling captor.

“So, what’s your plan? How long do you intend to keep me here?”

Kairos pauses, his entire body freezing in place.

“You might as well kill me. If you can't even do that, then you should just let me go.”

Luka’s tone of voice is smug, confident. When he leans in closer, Kairos backs away.

“I– I… I…” Kairos stutters on the first word, unable to say anything past it.

“You can’t keep this up forever.”

Kairos would completely lash out, stricken with intense panic. He wraps his small hands around Luka’s neck and squeezes, but he can never bring himself to finish the job. He pushes a knife up against Luka’s throat, but he never has the courage to cut.

Instead, Kairos always ends up putting the duct tape back over Luka’s mouth, then proceeds to pace around the room while nervously biting his nails.

That’s just what happens with Luka, though… When it comes to you, he absolutely spoils you! Which isn't shocking at all. He’ll give you real food while handing Luka whatever you didn't touch. Kairos constantly gives you tiny sweets and treats while completely ignoring Luka, who’d be glaring daggers at him.

One thing that Kairos would like about this situation, though, is how he gets to fuck you in front of the man who tried to take you away from him. Kairos would position Luka in a way that forces him to watch– and it’s kind of funny. For once, Kairos truly feels like he’s in control. (o^ ^o)

And it’s a little bit torturous for Luka.

For the first time, Luka despises having amazing hearing, because god…

He can hear every little thrust. Every tiny whimper. The wet sounds of skin-on-skin slapping is exacerbated to a disgusting degree.

…Sigh.

#ask #kairos posting #luka posting

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kengan-daddies · 11 months

Text

The Boy Next Door Baki Hanma x Motherly! Older Reader

Ch. 1 Ch. 2 Ch. 3 Ch. 4 Taglist: @zeniiis

Anime : Baki: Son of Ogre Character : Baki Hanma Warnings : Possessive behavior, obsessive behavior, murder of a major character, mention of suicide

The Boy Next Door Baki Hanma x Motherly! Older Reader

You and Baki were walking through the streets on a Friday night, it was a beautiful night and the wind was slightly chilly, so you wore a light jacket and a long skirt to stay warm but also cute. Your hair was down and loose letting the wind blow through it. You were laughing at one of Baki's jokes; he was funny, making the evening lively. People walked up and down the streets, of all ages, heights, weights, and aesthetics, some with friends others on dates, and some even alone. You were on Baki's right and he was on your left, he was holding a few bags in his hand as he walked with you, having just come back from the convenience store with you.

You looked around at all the lights and the signs, you stared at everything with a thoughtful stare. "You know, no matter how many years go by, I'll never get tired of seeing this same view." You spoke. He looked down at you in question before he looked up at all the lights and the signs. "I guess, it's just pretty common and normal to me." He said with a shrug. You smiled. "Yeah, I was the same way when I was your age, I didn't really care about it like I do now. I used to just see it as an everyday thing, same ol' same ol'. I never thought to think of it as a beautiful thing to see. I never thought to look at it like that, ya know?" You said.

His eyes shifted around the area, soaking in the scene and your words, he couldn't understand what you were saying, and you knew he didn't but you didn't mind. He watched your soft smile and eyes shine, he wanted to understand, but he just couldn't. "I know you don't understand what I'm saying, and that's okay. But one day, maybe you will, it's just a matter of time before you do, ya know... I love people, I love watching them be their most natural selves. It makes me feel not so alone anymore... It's hard to explain in a way that doesn't make me sound lonely and depressed." You said with a chuckle. He looked at you with a somber look on his face.

"I'd never judge you so negatively, I see you as my role model you're everything I want to be and so much more. You're so amazing, caring, loving, and selfless... That's who I strive to be... I want to be just as open-minded as you are, I want to be just like that... But it's hard." He explained as he stared ahead of himself. You listened to his words, the look on his face was distant, like he was seeing another version of himself. You wrapped your arm around his making him look down at you in question. "Baki... You're amazing just the way you are... never think any less about yourself... You're young and you're still learning who you are, your outlook on life and on yourself is going to change, and you'll become the best version of yourself if you strive for it... Just never be afraid of change and never be afraid to take a leap of faith, otherwise, you'll get stuck." You spoke.

He looked down at you for a moment before he looked away and he smiled, he leaned into you, making you both sway a bit. "I'll keep that in mind, Mom... I'll make sure to strive and reach for my higher self, and I'll shine like a star." He said playfully, you chuckled as you wrapped your arm around his a little tighter. "I know you will, Baki... I know you will."

The Boy Next Door

Baki walked down the street, wearing his school uniform, his bag over his shoulder, and his other hand in his pocket. He was relaxed, he was pleased, he was content. He felt blessed, he had a loving mother, a warm home, constant laughter, warm meals, and movie nights. It was like a dream come true. He looked up at the sky and he smiled with a happy sigh. 'This is amazing... I never want this dream to ever end.' He happily thought as he walked along the street, he turned the corner and blended in with the crowd.

'Hmm, I wonder what we'll have for dinner tonight.' He thought as he walked among the people. The slow drifting clouds were large and fluffy, the sky a deep blue and the breeze was lovely. He closed his eyes as he soaked in the moment. 'I feel so free... So... Normal... Huh... I guess I've never actually felt normal... I never thought about it. It's strange, but I love it.' He thought. He looked ahead of himself and he blinked in surprise when he saw Kozue.

She was walking ahead of him, she seemed to be deep in thought as she walked alone, her school uniform standing out like a sore thumb. He stared at her, his stare serious as he looked at her. 'I meant what I said, Kouze... I won't let anyone get between me and my mother, no matter who you are... I just hope you can understand.' He thought.

The Boy Next Door

You were at home, your boss decided to be nice for a change and he he gave you the day off, and you took advantage of it to the fullest. You made Baki breakfast, fed the dog, and bid Baki farewell before he left for school. You cleaned a little, collected a few dishes from Baki's room from his late-night snacking, vacuumed the house, cleaned the kitchen, and took the dog for a walk. Now you were sitting on the couch, the dog lying on your lap as you watched TV. You were comfortable deep into your program.

A sudden knock on your door nearly made you jump, the dog jumped up and trotted to the door looking back at you expectantly, you sighed as you paused the TV, you got up and walked to the door, you looked out the spy hole and you saw a young man, his hair was short and black, the sides looked freshly shaven. You creaked the door open, enough to poke your head out, he stared at you, seemingly in shock. "Yes?... May I help you?" You asked. His eyes studied you intensely. "Wow... So you are real." He muttered. You gave him a shocked stare.

"Huh?" You asked, he shook his head and he flashed you a charming smile. "Hi, I'm looking for Baki Hanma, is he here?" He asked. You stared at him skeptically as you answered. "No, sorry, you just missed him." You said. He nodded as he looked down for a moment and he looked back at you. "Well, whenever he comes back, could you tell him I stopped by?... I need to speak with him." He said. You nodded your head as you looked over his features. "Yeah, I'll relay the message to him, can I have your name?" You asked you were slightly defensive but you couldn't help it, you've grown protective of Baki, and this young man shows up asking for your son.

He didn't seem bothered by it and he gave you an understanding smile. "Katsumi Orochi." He answered. You nodded as he stared him down with a shocked stare. "I know you." You said. His brows shot up. "You do?" He asked. Honestly, he shouldn't be surprised but he couldn't help it, you didn't look like the kind of woman who would be into martial arts. You nodded your head. "Yeah, Baki spoke about you a while back, something about... a ..." You trailed off as you opened the door wider, you stared at him intensely, his missing arm sending realizing tingles up the back of your spin up your neck and over your brain.

His hand covered the nub and you looked away, feeling awkward and ashamed. "Sorry, I didn't mean to- " You were cut off when he chuckled. "It's fine, it truly is, I'm not surprised that Baki spoke to you about Pickle, he truly was an astonishing creature." He said as he looked up from his missing limb and he smiled at you. You smiled back at him. You chuckled to yourself as you looked down at your feet, your hands rubbing over your thighs, you looked back up at him as you pushed the door open wider. "Would you like to come in?... I still have some breakfast left over from this morning... I'll have to brew some more coffee though." You said through a light chuckle.

He smiled at you in return. "I would like that." he said.

The Boy Next Door

Baki sat in class, a bored look on his face as he stared out the window. 'The sky still looks pretty much the same as it did this morning.' He thought as he watched the large, puffy clouds slowly drift by. He looked down some, seeing the upper half of the skyscraper buildings from over the trees. 'I wonder what Mom is doing right now?... Knowing her, she's probably sleeping, she did say that she had the day off today... maybe she's watching TV, I wonder what she's watching.' He thought as he pictured you lying in bed asleep, or sitting on the couch watching TV. He smiled softly to himself as he pictured you going about your day doing your usual things.

He chuckled lightly to himself as he looked up with a dazed stare. 'I'm pretty sure she already found my dishes from last night, hopefully, she'll forget and I won't get a lashing from her.' he thought fondly, he looked towards the front of the class and he saw the teacher teaching something to the class. 'If I could, I'd skip the whole day, and use it to get stronger... I have to get stronger... I have a real purpose now... At first, it was to beat my dad and make my 'mother' proud so that she'll love me... then it went to wanting to beat my dad to avenge my mother... Then... It went to wanting to protect Kozue and keeping her safe... and now, it's to protect my mother.'

He thought, his gaze sharpen. 'I have to stay strong enough to keep her safe, she's my world... something that I was robbed of for so long, and now I get to finally have it... A mother's love... She should've been my mother from the start, she wouldn't have blindly followed dad, chasing after him like a drug addict, she would've made me her first priority, and she would've been a real mother... unlike her.' He thought, he looked over and he saw Kozue, she slightly flinched when she noticed that he caught her looking back at him. She quickly straightened up and she began acting like she was jolting down notes. He stared at her, a blank yet thoughtful stare.

'Kozue... I don't need your love anymore... I have something more pure now... You'll get in the way... between me and Mom.' He thought as he stared at her. She seemed so small in her chair, it was almost like she could feel his stare. 'She's a great girlfriend, but she wasn't enough... I love her though... I'll always love her... So long as she stays in her lane, I won't have to get rid of her.' He thought before he looked back out the window. Kozue timidly looked over her shoulder, her slightly curious yet fearful gaze looked back at Baki, he was staring out the window, a serious gleam in his eyes yet he seemed so relaxed.

'Baki... What's gotten into you?' She thought as she looked at him in worry.

The Boy Next Door

Katsumi sat on the couch next to you, and the Dog sat in between you both, you were slightly facing one another as you drank down the rest of your coffee. You placed your cup down and you looked over at him. "So, what brings you down here this morning?" You asked him, he swallowed his own gulp and he sighed. "I wanted to speak to him about Pickles." He said. You stared at him with a questioning stare. "Pickles? The caveman, why?" You asked him. He looked down at his cup, seeing his reflection in the light brown liquid. "Pickles disappeared from his confinement, I don't think he's dangerous, but I just want Baki to be aware." He explained.

You looked at him with a pensive gaze before you looked off with a worried stare. "So... Is Baki in danger?" You asked him as you timidly looked back over at him. He shook his head. "No, not at all, in fact, it could be the opposite actually." He said. You tilted your head. "The 'opposite'?" You asked. He nodded his head. "That's right, I feel that Pickles wants to keep up with Baki, almost to keep him safe in a way actually." He explained. You shook your head slightly in confusion. "That's sweet and all, but why?" You asked. "I mean, it doesn't make sense, you know." You added. He looked over at you. "I know, but once you get involved with Baki, nothing makes sense anymore." He said. You looked at him with a concerned yet curious stare before you sighed and picked up your cup,

"I love Baki like my own son... and if loving him means going down this winding path, then so be it." You said in a determined voice, your gaze held him and he gave you a smile. "You're a great mother, Baki sure knows how to pick 'em." He said with a slight chuckle. You gave a small chuckle at his words and you took a sip from your drink, he mimicked you in action and he took a sip too.

The Boy Next Door

Baki sat on the school roof, his bento half eaten, his gaze on the sky as he chewed his mouth full. 'What'll me and Mom cook for dinner today?' He wondered. He sat there in silence a while longer before he opened his mouth and ate another mouthful. 'Mmmm, damn she's one good cook.' He complimented as he delightfully chewed his mouthful. The sound of the door opening caught his attention, and he lazily looked over his eyes shining in recognition when he saw Kozue. She stared at him with her usual pensive stare when she was suspicious of him.

"Hey, Kozue." He greeted. She sighed as she stared him down a little longer before she walked over towards him, he watched her approach him slowly before she stopped before him. He gave her a lazy smile. "Sup, Kozue. What brings you up here?" He asked her. She stared at him, her eyes observing everything around him, the half-eaten bento, his relaxed poster, his unreadable yet distant eyes... "What's gotten into you, Baki?" She asked him. He blinked in confusion as he tilted his head. "What kind of question is that?" He asked her. Her hands tightened into fists.

"You know what I mean, your Mom... You haven't been the same since you moved in with her." She said her voice sounding defensive. His eyes seemed to slightly darken, and her eyes widened at the gaze. 'That's the look... That's the look he gave me... The last time I was with him... Why?' She thought as fear gripped her throat. "Kozue... Are you trying to tell me... that my Mother... Is a bad influence?" He questioned, his voice dangerously calm, his face emotionless as his eyes shined dangerously. Her breath hitched as she stared at him in fear, she held his gaze trying to hide her fears but the longer she stared at him the more she began to slightly break. "No, Baki... I-. I'm just worried is all." She said desperately.

He stood up from his spot, his gaze locked onto her as he looked down at her. "So, are you saying... That you want us to separate... Are you trying to get in between me and my Mother?" He asked. She slowly shook her head in disbelief before she shook her head an answer. "No, Baki... I'm not trying to do any of that!! I'm just trying to understand why you're acting like this." She said, her voice rising slightly as she crossed her arms. He stepped towards her making her step back. "Acting like what, Kozue?... I've been the same as ever." He said. She shook her head. "NO!! You're not, you're not acting like yourself at all... E-ever since you moved in with Y/N-" She was cut off by him.

"Miss (L/N)" He corrected her. She looked off in annoyance before she looked back at him. "WHATEVER!! YOU'RE NOT YOURSELF, BAKI!! LOOK AT YOU!!" She shouted. "I am myself, it's just not a version of myself you've ever seen before." He calmly explained. She scoffed. "RIGHT!! LIKE YOU TOTALLY DIDN'T THREATEN ME!!" She shouted as she stared at him with an accusing stare. "And I'll do it again." He said, the seriousness in his voice made her stare at him in shock and disbelief. "... Do you hear yourself right now?" She asked with a scoff. He nodded his head. She shook hers. "I don't think you do... Baki, you speak about her like she's actually your mother... She's just some woman who took you in because she felt sorry for you." She said, anger and annoyance clouding her judgment.

"She took me in because she loved me." He defended. "NO!! She took you in, because she was a lonely, single woman who wanted children, but was too pitiful to go out and actually find a man to give her one." She said, anger in her voice her eyes glossy. He stared at her for a moment, his eyes darkened and his face became deadly. He stepped towards her quickly, his hands gripping her upper arms tightly making her wince in pain. He brought his face close to hers, their noses almost touching. "Baki... You're hurting me." She whined.

"Shut up." He muttered angrily as he lightly shook her, his grip tightening. "Don't you ever, and I mean ever, speak of her like that ever again... She knows me, better than you'll ever know me... She accepts me in ways, that you'll never be able to... She actually tries to understand me and actually supports me, something you never did... I owe her my life... I deserve happiness, I deserve a loving mother, a warm home, a cooked meal... I earned it, and I'm not going to let anyone get in between us." He spoke dangerously low. She whined and winced in pain as he shook her throughout his speech. "You're crazy... Let me go." She spoke in desperation as she struggled against his hold, but he just held on tighter.

His eyes lit in understanding. "I see now... You're trying to get in between us... You're trying to separate us... My own girlfriend." He spoke in disbelief. She looked at him in shocked confusion. "What are you talking about? I'm not trying to-" She was cut off when he suddenly began to walk with her. "I won't let anyone get in between us, never." "Baki?" "I won't let you or anyone get in the way of our happiness." "Baki, what are you doing?" "I'll get rid of anyone and anything that'll ever try and get in between us." "BAKI, STOP!!" "I won't let anyone ever separate us ever again." "Baki? Baki!? BAKI WAIT, DON'T DO IT, STOP!! STOP!! STO-!!"

Her screams went ignored by deaf ears as he carried her over the small concrete wall that acted as a border to keep people from falling over. His grip tightened and with a twist of his spin, he threw her over the side of the building. Watching her panicked and scared face slowly become smaller and smaller before it became numb with death.

The Boy Next Door

You and Katsumi laughed as you opened the door to the apartment, he stepped out with a pleased smile while you leaned against the frame. "Thanks for the Coffee and breakfast (L/N)." He said, you fanned him off. "Call me (Y/N), we're pretty much friends now." You said. He gave a soft chuckle at your words. "Then you can call me Katsumi." He said. You smiled in response. "Way ahead of ya." You playfully said his brows shot up as he nodded in agreement. He looked off and his smile grew familiar yet he seemed slightly surprised. "Baki? What're you doing home so early, man?" He asked, you snatched your head and you saw Baki, his bag over his shoulder as he stared at Katsumi in confusion.

"Baki, why aren't you in school?" You asked him. He shrugged his shoulders carelessly. "There was a major accident at school, they think it's a casual case of suicide." He said. Both you and Katsumi looked shocked at that. "WHAT!?" "Damn." You both spoke, you more shocked while Katsumi was more calm. "What happened?" You asked him. He shrugged. "Not sure, some girl took a swan dive off the roof and she ended her life." He said. "Wow, that's some heavy stuff." Katsumi said. You nodded your head. "Yeah, I can't imagine how sad her parents would be." You said. Katsumi nodded in agreement. Baki walked closer to you both a questioning gaze on his face.

"So what's up, Katsumi?... Not hittin' on my Mom... are you?" He asked, his head tilting some in a challenge. Katsumi chuckled as he waved him off. "No, nothing like that, I'm here to speak with you." He said with a chuckle. 'What's up with that aura?... It's so sinister.' Katsumi thought as he observed Baki, his smile hiding his thoughts. You nodded your head. "Yeah, he came early this morning, but he just missed you, so we got to know each other, while we waited for you, Baki." You explained. He nodded his head in understanding, the sinister aura dissipating slightly. "Why didn't you just leave once you realized I wasn't home?" He asked. "Simple, because I'm a gentleman, your mother invited me in to have breakfast and coffee with her, and who am I to turn down such a beautiful woman?" He said in a smooth voice as he looked over at you. You rolled your eyes playfully as you fanned him off.

"Oh stop it." You said a playful smile on your face. He chuckled playfully. "I'm serious, not every day I meet a MILF." He said. You looked at him with an unamused stare yet your smile remained, your hand on your hip. "You make me sound old." You said. He shrugged his shoulders. "Hell, old enough to be my mother." He said. you gasped as you grabbed your 'offended' heart. "The audacity." You gasped. Your voices sounded muffled as you both playfully argued over your age. Baki stared at Katsumi intensely, his gaze deadly as he stared him down.

#baki #baki son of ogre #baki hanma #baki the grappler #baki x y/n #baki x reader #baki x you #baki hanma baki #baki hanma x y/n #baki hanma x reader #hanma

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jealousmartini · 8 months

Text

`☆. Just realised I haven't introduced myself so here's a quick intro (^з^)-☆

= Planet Rabbit's Intro =

HEY YOU🫵🏾... Yeah YOU!🙄

`~ ☆. Are you someone who is interested in law of Assumption and manifestation? Or maybe you practice reality shifting to you're favourite shows, animes and whatnot. Or maybe you just love to make scripts for your desired realities which you haven't gone to yet [yeah i see you. Stop slacking and get to it]. *☆`

❗️Super quick disclaimer❗️

I am introducing myself as I would introduce myself in my BETTER CR/ORIGINAL REALITY! This is specifically because I want to associate and align myself with the my better cr self since i am making my page my reality shifting/LOA progress journal !!!

+ dms are closed

asks are open!

Anyway

`~ ☆. If you are all or any of the things I listed, HURRAY!! Because I am all the above😭.*☆`

You can call me Keisha/Keesha or Rabbit, I'm 17 years old and this is my corner of tumblr where I show off my different DR selves, keep track of my shifting journey and bond with other shifters like me on shiftblr!! [From my current reality here, I have already shifted twice to my better cr. I am making it my mission to shift my awareness over to my better cr. That is my home. But once i have, that won't mean I'll leave shiftblr forever after that! I still have my other DRS to visit! Such as..]

Anime drs

☆ My hero Academia

☆ Jujitsu Kisen

☆ Little witch academy

☆ The pretty cure franchise

[Specifically 1 I made by myself, Pretty cure: HUGtto, Pretty cure: Smile and another one I forgot]

Shows/movies

☆ Into the spiderverse/Across the spiderverse

☆ Marvel Cinematic Universe (Before stage 4 era)

☆ Totally spies

☆ Lolirock

☆ Winx club

☆ Victorious

☆ Miraculous Ladybug

personal

☆ Better cr

☆ Hadzybul's visit to Earth

I will be introducing all of my drs soon with art too so get ready for that!

Happy shifting and CIAO

Xoxo, Keisha💋

#neville goddard #shifters #master manifestor #desired reality #shiftblr #shifting #4d reality #reality shifting #4d #drself #happyshifting #reality shift #self concept #manifest #law of assumption #loa

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raemoriendi · 2 months

Text

I’m smack in the middle of a spontaneous rewatch, so do you wanna hear my batshit zombie land saga theory?

(yeah you do, here we go)

so, this guy —

is obviously not who he says he is. mysterious idol producer who spent enough time in hollywood learning makeup sfx skills that makes zombies regularly look like normal living teenage girls, who then despite his apparent egregious talent with a makeup brush, returns to his very small and little known hometown in japan? who happens to also figure out how to bring back girls that have been killed by the Saga curse?

yeah, we as the audience are set up to know there’s more to him that meets the eye. especially with the flashback to him as Sakura’s pre-death classmate, Inui, which I am mentally chewing on like a dog with a bone.

(like romero here.)

but!! while I don’t have a lot of proof, and I'm working from the anime alone (not the manga that came out after or Zombie Land Saga Gaiden), due to my own weird special interest in funerary practices, I have a theory about what he might actually be:

Kotaro either is or was at some point, a mortician, or a yukanshi/nōkanshi.

(putting this under a cut, because it gets long, and also for some s1 and s2 spoilers.)

this initially occurred to me in season one, episode two, when we first saw Kotaro putting makeup on Sakura before a show in the back of the van, specifically applying a flesh-colored putty with something that looked like an offhand spatula to the big scar in the middle of her forehead. You can see it at the timestamp 14:11.

this reminded me of something called Embalmer’s Putty, which is used in the embalming process (or a general process of touching up the decedent minus chemical preservation) to fill in wounds for a viewing, visiting hours, or any gathering where the deceased’s loved ones might want to see their body for a last time.

here are screengrabs from two different funerary equipment companies showing what embalmer’s putty looks like and what it can do:

embalming putty can be already flesh-toned so as to look like living skin, and thus blend in with the mortician’s final product: making the deceased look more lively and at rest, restoring their dignity and giving peace of mind to the bereaved who want to see them off.

this process is actually really well summarized here, in this article from Regal Casket company:

if Kotaro was trained as a mortician or funerary cosmetologist, he would be trained to do exactly what he does every time he helps the girls get ready: making them look alive, healthy, and most importantly, lacking any visible mortal wounds that could upset their living audience. The girls themselves remark on how he makes them not only look like their old selves, but at times even better than before. this is exactly the type of skill set he would need to cultivate if he was preparing bodies for a last moment together with the deceased's loved ones, so they don't remember the celebrant as they were when they died, but how they looked in life.

keep in mind also that if Kotaro really had learned his makeup skills in Hollywood, he would have learned how to apply wound makeup/sfx to in-tact, healthy, living skin to make it look dead or wounded, not the other way around. makeup artists, even special effects makeup artists, are not taught how to work with dead or decaying human skin.

on top of this, a regular special effects artist would not be trained to fill grave injuries or mortal wounds, because their canvases are all living, presumably healthy people with no major injuries, who are able to go on movie sets and act for hours and hours at a time.

Kotaro wouldn’t (or shouldn’t) even be using the same kind of makeup that would go on living people, because dead bodies, obviously, are often room temperature at most when they’re being prepared for viewing, if not colder due to being held temporarily in cooling storage to prevent decay. funerary cosmetics are specifically formulated to account for this lack of temperature in a dead person, because makeup spreads differently over cold skin as compared to the warm skin of someone alive. trying to put on regular makeup, even special effects makeup, would look more than off - something Franchouchou is definitely keen to avoid if they want to keep their cover. (Or wanted to, before the storm aftermath of s2.)

some other points of interest that (to me) can be read to support this theory:

Kotaro drives a black van. while not a hearse (or “funeral coach” as the industry sometimes calls them) it’s still the right color to blend in to a funeral procession if needed, and large enough to store necessary equipment for services, viewings, etc.

Kotaro is always in a suit except when he's bathing or sleeping - specifically, a dark-colored suit. Even when the man was in a full depressive episode by the beginning of s2, he still kept his suit pants and dress shirt. It serves the purpose of being seen as a (semi-)competent idol producer who’s always ready to make a deal for his band, sure! but if his day job when he don’t see him (going away “on business” like during the episode Sakura had amnesia) it also suits him working in the somber, subdued environment of a funeral home. (minus the shades, red vest, and dried squid in his pocket. those are likely just part of his persona for Franchouchou's sake.)

Kotaro had to become familiar with resurrection magic somehow. Who’s to say he couldn’t come into contact with it during his work at a funeral home or as a mortician, something that would keep him adjacent to death and its sacred rites and practices? possibly from a young age, considering many funeral workers can start an apprenticeship or internship in their late teens? Wouldn’t that make more sense contextually than him just stumbling across it in a library, or randomly in a magical encounter in a world where zombies exist?

Kotaro coughing up blood at the end of s2 might be the Curse, but it might also be the stress of managing Franchouchou on top of the stress of his day job. these positions can be highly taxing emotionally and physically, as one needs to be a steadying presence for people on some of the worst days of their lives, and while embalming isn't as much of a thing in Japan (to my knowledge), exposure to certain chemicals from the restoration process over time has proven to be hazardous to one's health.

“okay, rae, maybe,” you’re saying. “but some of these are still kind of a stretch.”

this is where I get a little more speculative, but bear with me:

from the brief glimpse we have of him as Inui, and based on the translation of “Inui” and “Tatsumi” being opposite directions (northwest and southeast, respectively), we know that Kotaro wasn’t always this brash, loud idiot producer we know today. there was apparently a point in high school where he was very shy, and was maybe friends with Sakura, or at least acquaintences.

what if Inui was so shy and soft-spoken because he had grown up in the world of funerary traditions? many funeral homes are often generational, handed down from parent to child as a family business. someone accustomed (or maybe just exposed) to death that early might have some reasons to be kind of quiet and withdrawn.

this might also account for how he knew about the other dead girls of Franchouchou before Sakura. if one of his parents or even his grandparents were handling Saga’s deceased, he would have had an opportunity to hear about the accidents that killed them before the news spread as widely, encounter them in the restoration stage as dead bodies (depending on when they happened and if he was alive yet), and even seen their makeup applied by his predecessors if he was allowed in the prep room, or at least hear their recollections of it after the fact.

we know that he’s descended from Kiichi, Yugiri's love interest from when she was alive, who was a young man dedicated to seeing Saga's return after it merged with another region and lost its name. we also know he's being mentored by the immortal bartender Jofuku, who's said to be Saga's living embodiment, and supposedly is or is based on a wizard from mythology who discovered the Elixir of Immortality. while Jofuku is a likely source for the magic of necromancy, and maybe even selected the girls he wanted resurrected, it would make sense that people involved with Saga's dead were in contact to some degree with the man who is Saga itself, especially since the ZSL fandom wiki has noted that Saga's Curse in current times has manifested as a low birth rate and aging population. if there are more dead and dying in Saga than there are living, a family funeral home would be kept quite busy, on top of all the random accidents that the Curse causes to cut down people who would bring Saga recognition or prosperity.

so let's try this on for size: Inui grows up in a family of yukanshi/nōkanshi, who prepare the decedents for customary otsuya -- a wake held the night before the funeral itself, meant to give the living bereaved a last night to spend with their late loved one. his family likely also participates to some degree in the funeral ceremony itself (osohiki) and the cremation (kasou) before the ashes are interred. (I got my info on Japanese funerals here, as imperfect as it may be.) Inui learns about the historical funerals of Saga's famous dead that he wasn't around for through his family's experiences or through their ties to Jofuku. He begins training to take over the family business maybe as a teenager, this peculiar adolescence maybe leaving him a little more reserved than his classmates.

it might also give him the chance to practice his proficiency with music composition and his instruments -- song selection is a not-small part of modern funerary practices. maybe his family encouraged him to learn to write songs and play so he could perform at funerals? his stage fright evidenced in other episodes would shut that down pretty quickly, of course, but maybe this interest in music is how he becomes friends with Sakura to begin with, as evidenced by the clip of the CD exchange.

but then Sakura is killed in a terrible accident and his world turns upside down. it's bad enough that he's grieving, but then her body might come to his family's funeral home to be prepared for her ceremony and interment. he sees this lively, determined girl he admired dead and cold on the prep room table, her beautiful face ruined, and it's just not fair. how can his heart not break?

maybe he goes to Jofuku and demands to know what the old man knows about bringing people back, and the Curse. maybe he's less direct, but seeks the knowledge of necromancy for himself, with his family so close to death for so many generations. he continues his training for ten years, learning all he can about how to make the dearly departed look like themselves again. look better than themselves, even.

when the Zombie Land Saga Project is in the planning stages, living in a funeral family might give him access to or secondhand knowledge of where all the girls' ashes are interred. eventually, his line of work gives him the opportunity to collect however much he needs from each for the magic to work.

he knows it can, because even though Jofuku himself has never died, Romero has, and has been successfully brought back at some point. he's a little weird and not the prettiest, but he's still very much a dog.

ten years later, when the spell takes hold and his undead Saga champions resurrect, he knows how to make each and every one of them look like their old selves again.

he does Sakura's makeup first, just to see his old friend again as he remembered her.

we know how the rest goes from there, but this is my overarching theory that explains Why Kotaro Tatsumi outside his relationship to Sakura, but also how he could come up with Zombie Land Saga outside of just being a citizen of Saga himself.

anyway!! apologies if this was scattered, I wrote it in dribs and drabs throughout the day, but it's been gnawing at me for a minute. if there's anything canon I don't know about that completely obliterates this theory, then just call it an AU, and if this has already been agreed on in other parts of fandom, just call me fashionably late.

if you've read this long, you're a sweetheart <3

#zombieland saga #zombie land saga #zls #kotaro tatsumi #tatsumi kotaro #fandom stuff #fandom theory #and then rarae writes #this was so long I thought I'd put it here instead so it didn't get lost on my other blogs #anyway watch me nerd out about this guy who might overlap with a very specific interest of mine

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alanshee-keeper-of-realms · 3 months

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wow you really love disney metafiction

Well yes Who Framed Roger Rabbit always fascinated me as a kid, what adaptions would our world have what would change if our characters really existed and lived beside us would Disney be as greedy as it is if Mickey Mouse was actually owner over it it instead of Bob Iger being CEO nd Investors having their claws in it? Would Bugs be the owner of Warner or would he be chilling as an A-list celebrity who is a known as a beloved LGBTQA Drag Queen and Genderfluid Veteran?

Mickey and Minnie married off screen and dating on screen?

Looney Tunes known as chaos incarnate but they're a giant family

Bugs and Daffy adopted the Animaniacs because they had no home

Are Bugs and Daffy together off screen?

What would shape each toon into their On Screen and off-screen selves creating that divide?

What would the huge differences be? Maybe some have kids others are married and some have entire seperate family?

How would humans react to these guys as a species that has a bad record of looking down upon people?

Mickey and Bob Iger having a I absolutely despise you but I have to tolerate you relationship

Off screen the Warner siblings are actually related to Oswald and Ortensia explaining the Animaniacs' strange unidentifiable appearances,

Like the possibilities are endless and vast, there's just so much unexplored due to the fact companies can't share at all anymore and they don't think live action hybrids are useful

Chip and Dale 2022 resparked it for me, a lot of ideas going a million miles, like if I had finances I'd be getting reference shots to use for test fan animation just for the fun of it, cause it fascinates me that much,

And while you call it metafiction it's actually just cartoons meeting our reality seriously go check out the movie Who Framed Roger Rabbit that movie right there shows what exactly I'm talking about and here I'll even include some screenshots of a couple films that do this

Bugs Bunny Focus for Back in Action cuz honestly I think this is his most iconic look besides the Viking look when it comes to his drag and honestly the line normally I play the love interest is just amazing

Roger and Eddie(played by Bob Hoskins) in Who Framed Roger Rabbit

Chip and Dale Rescue Rangers 2022

This is the adaption I was talking about earlier look at Ellie next to the apartment building for small toons. She's as tall as it, while Chip and Dale are the perfect size for it, unlike Who Framed Roger rabbit Chip and Dale takes place in the modern day that's what hooked me to create a modern AU it's all so fascinating,

You can't see it in that shot but Dale is driving a full-blown human sized car that has been adapted for Chipmunks I'm not joking, however their movie shows how wildly different everybody can look from each other especially in the modern day when CG is a thing. Chip is still clearly 1990s 2D animated while Dale decided to get a CGI redesign

Like if Mickey and Minnie are only two feet tall and if he's the big boss on set yeah it's really funny to me to imagine him running around Disney and trying to picture every single Studio adapting to these Toons and their various size differences

Again there is just so so much that has been untapped with this genre, because Studios cannot get along long enough to tap into it

#who framed roger rabbit #chip and dale #chip n dale rescue rangers #disney #warner #baffy #Animaniacs #mickey mouse #minnie mouse #oswald the lucky rabbit #yakko warner #bugs bunny #daffy duck #looney toons

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cringefail-clown · 1 year

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Soo, uhh, what's the story on how kankri got his sign and all? As an ancestor lover, I'm curious about what happened to kankri's ancestor. Was it one of feferi's first instances of being a cruel empress? (idk if that's what I should say, but oh well) Does kankri have a vague idea of what happened (if something bad did happen) like how karkat had an idea of what happend to the sufferer/signless?

Anyways, I love your AU and the art you make for it!

the symbol came from the same place - the irons that bound the signless hand, but how it came to be is a pretty different story.

im trying to think bout it from the classpect angle - like how in canon the signless was post scratch kankri, so his abilities as a seer of blood allowed him to get glimpses from his pre scratch life, which inspired him to try and change things for the better. but in the au, its karkat who's in the role of the signless, and he aint no seer, hes a knight, he protects with his aspect and protects his aspect. i think the blood powers would carry some memories as well, maybe not so clear like how it was for kankri, but karkat would get the vague feeling of this is wrong.

i think hed see what feferi as empress was trying to do, and would be like "wait a fucking minute she just tries to treat lower classes like some kind of animals that have to be under care of highbloods" and hed be PISSED bc hed rather die than have some highblood asshole coddle him his whole life just bc of his blood mutation.

so hed be like "actually fuck you and fuck the monarchy" and hed start preaching bout the better world where all the blood castes have a say in how their society works (like how it was on tb!beforus) and karkats really good at getting people to follow him. so thats how the movement against the empress would start, and when the news about the revolution would reach feferi she would be pissed then, bc she wants a better life for them and this is how theyre repaying her, by wanting to overthrow her?? and it spirals from here into karkats execution and feferi becoming more and more paranoid

as for if kankri knows how things went, well he does! he gets visions of his past and future selves through dreams, some are nice, but most of the time theyre terryfying (so he just,, stops sleeping). its a mix between his time on beforus and how society was like there, some of karkats memories as the signless get into it too as they're kinda bound by blood ie. the ancestry stuff, and also he gets some visions of the post-game on earth c! those are his favourite. im thinking hard bout everyones aspects, i also liked the idea of kankri being able to "sense" past and future relationships between ppl (for example he can vaguely tell when ppl have history between them and if its positive or not, or he just gets one look at roxy and porrim and goes "yeah theyre gonna be insufferably in love"), its all a work in progress tho!

#homestuck #homestuck turnabout #turnabout au #kankri vantas #karkat vantas #the signless #the sufferer #ask #post scratch karkat b like “fuck monarchy me and the homies love democracy”

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fiannalover · 14 days

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Dooooooooooooo THE HAKUNO KISHINAMI CHALLENGE!

THE HAKUNO KISHINAMI CHALLENGE

THE HAKUNO KISHINAMI CHALLENGE:

BEAT FGO PART 1 USING ONLY THE SERVANTS IN HAKUNO'S ANIMATIONS!

What the fuck does that mean!?

THE SQUAD: MOST PURE TIER OF THE CHALLENGE RUN! Only the peeps that show up in animation are here, ready to kick Goetia's seventy something demon ass!

ASSORTED ALT ZONE: EXTRAVERSE COMPLIANT ALTS! Summer Tamamo, Bride Nero, Summer Nero and Kid Gil ALL COUNT AS THE SAME PERSON AS THEIR EXTRA SELVES and therefore CAN BE USED IN THE HAKUNO KISHINAMI CHALLENGE!

I will fight and scream and shout that she counts, she barely counts, damnit, she can come IN and you need her to make GSSR an untrustworthy possibility Draco COUNTS (Draco probably does not count)

Sliding the two Lis in is the easiest way for Hakuno to pay royalties.

yeah sure feel free to retire Nameless 5 minutes before the end, enjoy your ST Archer.

Tamamo Cat and CasGil are NOT CASTER TAMAMO OR EXTRA GIL and therefore CANNOT BE USED opens trap door beneath them.

THE HAKUNO KISHINAMI CHALLENGE TUTORIAL!

Roll Nameless as your Tutorial 4 Star!

Choose between Tamamo, Altera or Assassin Li as your Tutorial 5 Star!

WAIT FOR NERO'S YEARLY GACHA!

Inevitably acquire Kid Gil.

Roll for a Charlemagne/Summer Tamamo/Gil/Summer Nero/Draco GSSR and PRAY!

Maybe get Lancer Li on the way and pick whoever you didn't get from the Friend Support selection! You are now ready to do

THE HAKUNO KISHINAMI CHALLENGE!

don't do it.

#THE HAKUNO KISHINAMI CHALLENGE #fate #fate grand order #hakuno kishinami #fate extra #nero claudius #gilgamesh #nameless #tamamo no mae #altera #charlemagne

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josphitia · 16 days

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Demon HRT, part 1

Trigger Warnings: Horror, Vomiting, Blood, loss of bodily control

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So I live in this place called Hyper City. Fun place, as far as cities go. Lately I’ve been seeing so many freakish peoples around. Dragon and Fish girls, an Eldritch monstrosity or two, hell I even saw Sonic the goddamn hedgehog walking around! Which, don't get me wrong, is FANTASTIC. All these people getting to be their true selves, it brings a tear to your eye! So I asked a few of them, very politely I might add, whereabouts they've been getting these medicinal interventions from. They all pointed me in the same direction.

An unassuming building lay before my feet as I entered a dinghy lobby. The place was littered with fur of every color and length, along with the occasional reptilian shedding-flake. The overworked receptionist looked at me with her bagged eyes and handed me a clipboard and pen. “Walk-in or Appointment sugar” “Walk-in!” “Alright. Wait time is about 3 hours if you're able to wait that long.” I looked around at the empty lobby and shrugged. I had nothing but time after all.

I lazily filled out the form, checking ‘No’ on all the usual culprits. From there I enjoyed the simple pleasures of people watching. Or I guess in this case, animal watching, as they walked in one after the other for their appointments. All sorts of creatures you'd think only existed in cartoons. A blue snake lady, a white tiger, like 4 fucking slimes. All of them seemed to leave with the same two things: lifeless eyes and a small paper bag they held onto like a treasure.

After 4 hours of waiting, finally, finally it was my turn to go back. I was escorted to the man’s office itself. Though you'd think a doctor would have better furniture. I had a comfier chair to sit on in elementary school. Soon the doc entered and he asked me to plead my case. “Doc, you gotta help me. I’ve seen the people in the streets and they say you've helped them! So I'm asking you, are you able to help me? I wanna be a demon!”

“Are. Are you serious? You're not making this up? This is for real?"

“Of course Doc! Deep inside me is a Beelzebub just waiting to burst free!”

“Absolutely not. How in blazes would I even create something like that?? I deal with the terrestrial, the creatures that actually roam this earth.”

“Bitch I literally saw a Sonic the Hedgehog.”

“Changing the hue of a standard hedgehog’s hair and incorporating specialized techniques to aid in speed is one thing. I'm not some revolving door for people to just turn into any farcical fictional absurdity that crosses their minds! I'll have to ask you to leave.”

I was escorted out of the building and as soon as I was I turned around to the doors and gave them my parting gift: two middle fingers and a loud “WELL FUCK YOU TOO!” As I turned to walk away I saw a young person in a tattered cloak approaching me.

“Troubles with Dr. Erian?”

“Yeah and what's it to you?”

“He is ignorant. Afraid of the worlds beyond his meager vision.” As they said this, they removed their hood, fully showcasing the double-irises of their eyes and a pure white eye in the middle of their forehead without any indication of an eyelid. “I know a place of power. A repository of knowledge. It is there you can acquire the help you need. Simply walk the road least trodden between the spires of ill-progress. At the end of the trail you will come upon a fork in the road. Take the third option, for all others are lies.”

“Okay cool but like what do I put in my Maps app?”

“Oh. Uhm. It's 666 Arkham Drive.”

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

An hour or so of walking later I arrived at my destination. A library that seemed as both a cathedral and a butcher’s shop. But off in the alleyway beside the library was an old lady with a sharply crooked nose. She was wearing a long trench coat and as soon as she saw me she outreached a long, spindly finger in a “come hither” motion.

“Hello boy. I have the target of your mission…” she coyly remarked as she rummaged around in her coat before pulling out a plastic orange medicine bottle.

“I heard about you from Lidless Vision.

They told me to anticipate your arrival.

For you and only you, I have this vial.”

“Yeah yeah lady I've been down this road before. This isn't my first time encountering a creepy old crone in an alleyway offering me drugs. How do I know you're not a cop like the last one?”

“I can offer you no assurances but this: What I offer, I offer freely.

My master is one of chaos and all things unseemly.

I am a friend to those whose souls offer a dark shine.

I am no accomplice to the thin blue line. Also ACAB.”

“Ah right on, right on… Okay so what'll it cost.”

“I seek no compensation, no monetary transaction.

I only wish to help you achieve your satisfaction.

I have heard tell inside of you is a demon.

Take these pills, with water, and release what's within.”

With this she quickly grabbed my hand and thrust the bottom between my fingers. The label was haphazardly placed, but the instructions were what she said: “Take one pill twice a day. WITH WATER.”

“Well thank-” and before I knew it she was gone, along with the library. Around me was nothing but the shattered dreams of Mom ‘n Pop stores of the past. I looked around but could find no evidence of the crone, as if she was never there to begin with…

It was a long walk back home; and as soon as I arrived I collapsed on the couch. I was eager to ingest my new medication, with water, and to see the changes my body would undergo. I went to lie in bed and I was so exhausted I could only accomplish an hour of doom scrolling before sleep caressed me into her embrace.

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

I awoke the next afternoon and immediately ran to the bathroom. I poured over my reflection for any changes, but all I could notice was that I was… pale? My skin all over was becoming pasty and white. I hope I wasn't getting an allergic reaction…

Although perhaps this was a normal part of the HRT process. Shedding my previous color before my demonic hues came in. But great, now people will think I'm some kinda nerd. Hopefully I could develop a tan to help normalize my complexion.

I took my first allotted HRT pill, with water, and prepared myself. I got dressed and was ready to start my day off visiting any and all businesses begging for a job while being told “there's an application online.” I went to put on my sneakers and… hrm. My toes were pressing up against the end of the shoe. I guess all that walking made my feet a bit swollen today. Nothing another day of walking wouldn't fix. Not like I could just buy another pair, certainly not without a stable income.

First stop on my itinerary was Emperor Burger. I walked onto those sticky floors and was immediately hit with a wall of smell: a queasy concoction of grease, potatoes, and depression. Not many people eat here if they could help it, after all. I walked up to the counter to an acne riddled individual but before I could speak I vomited all over the minimum wage worker to an audible “aw COME ON MAN!” I collapsed onto the floor as the worker began moping around me, either unwittingly or maliciously ignoring my plight as I kneeled over. I couldn't breathe, I was choking on something caught in my throat. Instinctively I clawed into my mouth to dislodge the object, grabbing what felt like fabric. I gripped and pulled but the more I pulled the more felt trapped in my stomach. It was like I was pulling out my own intestines as a long rope of tightly tied… hankerchiefs? were pulled out of my body, soaked in my own bile and blood. But eventually with one final yank my throat was free of the obstruction and I could finally breathe, if in ragged short breaths.

“Help me get this guy the fuck out of here, he's some kinda drunk or something!” was what the clerk started yelling as two workers hoisted me to my feet and threw me out onto the curb. The fall should have hurt, but all my mind could focus on was how much the sunlight now burned my skin and obscured whatever vision I had through tear-stained eyes. I gripped my stomach as I limped home, pedestrians giving my pained body, stained with my own fluids, a wide berth.

I arrived at my humble hovel with another fall onto the floor. I felt like a failure, I wasn't even out an hour before coming back to my dimly lit den. Was the clerk right? Was I just a drunk? Hungover? But I didn't even have the money for alcohol, let alone enough to leave me in this condition. But the thought finally flashed through my mind like lightning:

The pills.

I tried crawling to the table where I was keeping my precious medication but I was barely there before more pains creeped their way across my body, sending me into seizures. The pain wracked my body, yet trying as I might in my agony, no tears flowed. Instead the only sounds emanating from my body were a continuous series of cheerful, upbeat laughs.

🤡

#therian #otherkin #therian hrt #otherkin hrt #creature hrt #animal hrt #transgender #Clown #Clown HRT #oc story #oc #demon #demon hrt #Josphitia

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itsclydebitches · 7 months

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Alastor Headcanons Based on IRL Deer

fic research is wild, y'all

He has a tail. Duh.

It is deliberately hidden under his coat because while he can keep his ears neutral with conscious effort (and most people assume they're his hair at first glance) there's no way he's going to broadcast when he's relaxed with that gentle swishing.

After taking on this form Alastor biologically became an herbivore. He thinks it's a part of his punishment: to now exist in a body where eating meat, while possible, is a lot harder and is likely to make him ill if he has too much. He obviously does it anyway and now takes a sick kind of pride in his cannibalistic acts.

He sheds his antlers each year and goes to great lengths not to be seen during this process. It's faster than what a real deer deals with, but Alastor is still perpetually pissed that he can't just instantly grow new ones the way he otherwise controls his form.

(Hiding this is a whole lot harder while staying at a hotel where people need your help with things/demand your participation in ridiculous bonding exercises 24/7. The new year arrives and Alastor starts s w e a t i n g.)

His antlers also have velvet which, like a real deer's, is filled with nerves. AKA his antlers are very sensitive. Touch them at risk of life, limb, and soul.

In the days approaching a shedding Alastor's appetite increases like whoa. He can be found having tea (and "finger" food) with Rosie, or cooking up a storm in the kitchen. The residents don't know why they're suddenly inundated with jambalaya and gumbo, but they're not complaining.

(Husk, by virtue of Alastor owning his soul, knows what's what. He leaves a bottle of whiskey outside his door the night Alastor mysteriously says he has "business" to attend to for the next few days. Yeah, he obviously hates the guy but also that's a shit thing to deal with sober. He should know. Being a cat is fucking weird.)

When his old antlers have fallen off Alastor immediately destroys them. He doesn't know what someone might be able to do with a piece of his body, but he's not going to find out.

(However, it is tempting to whack the short king with one, proclaiming that he should mount it on his wall because he'll never get one off his head.)

He's got GREAT night vision and his eyes will glow red as his radio characteristics overlap with the deer biology. Alastor's hearing is also top notch and he can move his ears independently to better catch a sound. However, he tends to tilt his head instead—ensuring his neck cracks—because he knows it freaks people out.

Also smell! That's great for cooking. Not so great when Alastor hasn't found the time or inclination to bathe in days.

Alastor has made more friends (though he'd never call them that) in Hell than he ever did while living. Is it because he's now surrounded by other sinners who have no need to hide their true selves, or is it because he's now doubly a social animal? He doesn't know, doesn't care, and will eviscerate anyone who theorizes.

Despite growing up in New Orleans, Alastor never learned how to swim. Imagine his shock when an... unfortunate encounter with a rival Overlord resulted in him getting thrown into one of Hell's many rivers and he discovered that now, suddenly, he's an excellent swimmer. It was a weird day.

He's colorblind now. Rosie once asked him about his living fashion habits and was surprised that he tended towards muted browns, blacks, and grays. Sure, they all spread their wings upon entering Hell, but switching to a bright red suit is quite the choice! Everyone in the Emporium had to wait for their ears to heal after the screech of radio static Alastor let loose. He hadn't realized precisely what he was wearing (and who the hell else would tell him?). Rosie talked him down, saying the style suited him and really, it's too late to back down now. Whatever would the papers say?

#Alastor #Hazbin Hotel

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justali-anne · 2 months

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Drunk Skelebros Take

I just had a hilarious idea (at least in my opinion)!

Imagine that when Sans and Papyrus get drunk, they become the OPPOSITE kind of drunks to their usual selves.

Sans, for example, would turn into a wild party animal when drunk. In addition, I like to imagine that he has a very low alcohol tolerance (more on that later), so give him a couple of shots of whiskey and he's already in a hyperactive state. Expect drunk!Sans to be singing and dancing at the drop of a hat, flipping tables, disappearing and reappearing out of freaking NOWHERE, and having intense mood swings where he either laughs at everything or finds the most ABSURD reasons to cry ("fish don't have legs, bro, how can they run if they don't have any legs? *sob sob*"). However, even with all these absurd outbursts, there is one thing Sans will NEVER do when he's drunk: talk about his problems. In this state, Sans will be more focused on the present moment than any of the grievances in his life, and even if you try to pin him down and get him talking, he'd be too delirious to give you a comprehensible chat anyway. Bottom line is, someone will definitely need to babysit this guy when he's drunk, because left to his own devices... Well, he might just destroy the whole bar.

Papyrus, on the other hand, will actually slow down and become slightly more introspective when he's drunk. He'll just suddenly start asking the strangest, most "profound" questions and try to be all smart and philosophical, but they're really just a bunch of utter nonsense. ("ART? WHAT IS... ART? IS ART WHAT YOU CALL PENCIL MARKS? OR IS ART SOMETHING GREATER LIKE... THE UNIVERSE?") It doesn't stop there, either. Papyrus will take random strangers to the side and ask them strange questions, sometimes it's about the utter philosophical nonsense above, or it could be a bit... too personal for them. ("DO YOU EVER THINK THAT IF YOU HAD TAKEN A DIFFERENT PATH IN LIFE, YOU WOULD'VE ACHIEVED YOUR HOPES AND DREAMS BY NOW?") However, there are times where Papyrus could get really upset or even angry while drunk. He'd start bemoaning the littlest annoyances and all the problems in his life, which is the exact opposite of what Papyrus is normally like, so this kind of behaviour will be jarring to everyone around him. On the surface, Papyrus might seem fully functional while drunk, but out of the two brothers, surprisingly it's PAPYRUS who conks out first. Yeah, Sans may have a low alcohol tolerance, but Papyrus isn't much better.

My headcanon is that skeletons, in general, would have pretty sensitive and powerful magic. My reasoning for this is that while most monsters have organs and stuff to help them with their bodily functions (they just function differently due to magic), skeletons (and ghosts) will need a LOT more magic to achieve those same functions. Talking, eating, moving etc. So logically, I think alcohol would actually disrupt that magic, and if they have too much alcohol, a skeleton could actually fall apart and lose their basic functions. It's not fatal, just give it time and the skeleton can recover, but it's still pretty dangerous and terrifying when it does happen. The skeleton would just be in a state of paralysis and that's not good for anyone. And the weaker a skeleton is, the more likely this alcoholic paralysis is gonna happen.

Therefore, Sans and Papyrus have to be extremely careful about what they drink and how much they consume. A shot or two is enough to get them hammered, after all. Sans is more vulnerable, of course, for obvious reasons, but that doesn't mean Papyrus can take much more. He's tough, but he's still vulnerable. Both of them would start shaking and rattling if they drank too much. And hangovers are a NIGHTMARE. Sans would probably be bedridden, and Papyrus would pretend that he's fine and he's functioning properly, but if his rattling is any indication... yeah, he'd suffer.

Also these alcoholic principles don't work the same way on ghosts, since they're non-corporeal. I think the effects of alcohol on them would be different depending on the type of ghost, whether they have a body (like Mettaton) or not (like Napstablook). Or even if they're somewhere in-between (Mad Dummy/Mew Mew). I'll leave that for another time.

So, enjoy drunk skeletons!

#undertale #sans #papyrus #best skelebros ever #skelebros #my thoughts #my ideas #headcanons #headcanons galore

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