#delightful human disaster

[notbang]

what’s up sexy stuff?

[soysaucevictim]

Just thinking about the fic where Gymrat!Remus finally gets pointed to investigate a PCOS dx.

And med nerd brain just making me thinking about how RAMPANT it was for people to get treated for all manner of illnesses with bloodletting. Mr. Washington was already having a bad time with a throat infection - let's give the dude hypovolemic shock while we're at it! Pretty miserable way to die. :,D

Nowadays bloodletting has EXTREMELY limited therapeutic applications - mostly to treat shit like having too much copper or iron in the blood. (Though chelation is often used for shit like this, better risk/benefit profile, lbr.)

[theblackwomb]

I want at least a whole episode worth of warmly-lit flashbacks like we got in Episode 7, honestly.

Like, keep the foreshadowing and underlying dread by all means but I think the only thing that would possibly improve on the perfection that the show is already would be to show us just a bit more of the calm before the storm. 

Like, just show me a little more of them all being happy in the early days, of them being ordinary men cracking on and doing their jobs, of silly little day-to-day conversations. It’ll make me happy for one thing but it’ll also make that descent into terrified, scurvy-ridden, lead-addled madness and misery all the more poignant if we can see more clearly who they were before it happened. 

Like, make that descent as sharp as humanly possible then just stab me in the heart with it. 

[chimaerakitten]

One under-appreciated breed of fic writer are the ones who hyperfocus on logistics to the exclusion of all canon shortcuts, and thus usually strike upon an awesome way to flesh out the worldbuilding or characters.

Like, I’m not necessarily talking realism here since often it’s still pretty far from realistic, but more like, “someone has to be running spies in this fantasy kingdom, and we’ve seen the whole royal court, so which background character is it? How does that change these three major interactions?” Or “real life historical nobility did in fact have some things to do that were like jobs, how does this human disaster cope with running an estate?” Or “there’s no reason for a sci-fi robot detective to know how to whitewater kayak, where’d she learn?” Or “if this guy is serving the emperor directly he has to be way high up in the space empire servant hierarchy, why is he doing this menial task for someone else? What’s his motive? Does he perhaps have the secret space telepathy?”

Anyway I’m always DELIGHTED to find a fic or writer who asks these questions because the fics themselves are universally bangers.

[creacherkeeper]

is this old religion, are we calling it love?

{sweet movie, alisha dietzman / @gaphic / tiktok / @iamalivenow / on earth we're briefly gorgeous, ocean vuong / @manywinged / these violent delights, micah nemerever / the reader, bernhard schlink (trans. carol brown janeway) / hestitations outside the door, margaret atwood / a self-portrait in letters, anne sexton}

[ID: ten images of text together in a litstack

1: Confession: I will think of you forever

2: a post by gaphic: It’s only tragedy if you convince yourself, for even just a moment, that everything could be ok, despite knowing it won’t be. Tragedy lies in ‘so close, yet so far.’ It’s avoidable because it would only take a tiny alteration to prevent disaster, but human nature is in the way- not maliciously, not knowingly, despite trying so hard.

3: a tiktok comment and answer: Are they lovers? / Worse

4: a post by iamalivenow: gay sex won't fix this. it'll probably make this worse. that being said don't you want to see how much worse it can get?

5: Sometimes being offered tenderness feels like the very proof that you've been ruined.

6: tags from manywinged: #technically they know and understand each other better than anyone else alive #but they communicate that in the most fucked up insane unnecessarily complicated way and think thats normal

7: I don't think you've ever felt anything that didn't hurt you. / We've found each other, out of everyone else in the world. Does that hurt, too?

8: "I'm not used to being loved. I wouldn't know what to do."

9: Should we go into it together / If I go into it with you I will never come out

10: of course the love is there. / still, / still, / still.

end ID]

[daisynik7]

Pairing: Alucard x f!reader

Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

cw: vampires, blood, periods, smut – cunnilingus during a period, vaginal sex (doggy), creampie

Author’s Note: I’ve been thinking about this for a while now, thanks for all those who encouraged me by saying they'd read this hehe. Enjoy! Divider by @/ohmarigold!

It’s been a little less than a month since you waltzed into the desolate castle nearly ten miles from your hometown. You’ve heard the rumors about it through whispers on the streets and drunken confessions at the bar. It’s Dracula’s estate, the bearer of demons and disaster, though he has since perished. It’s been told that the deed was done at the hands of his own son, Adrian Tepes, better known as Alucard. Surely, you had to check this out for yourself to see if the legend stands true.

What you didn’t predict was falling for the allusive charm of the son of Dracula. That you’d be living here as a permanent resident and take the role as Alucard’s forever human plaything. And that you love it. You love him. In the span of a few short weeks, you’ve completely abandoned your mundane life to share your exciting future with this dhampir. It really is something out of legends.  

Tonight, you lie in bed with him, snuggled close to his body. His breath tickles you, his fangs barely grazing skin as he presses delicate kisses along your neck. You giggle, running your hand through his silky hair, tugging him back to kiss him on the mouth. “Adrian,” you whisper, sucking on his bottom lip.

His fingers are nimble on your thighs, inching their way closer and closer to your arousal until you grab at his wrist, stopping him. He looks at you, confused. “What is it, darling?” 

Your cheeks are hot with embarrassment, turning your head the other direction to avoid his brilliant gaze on you. “I’m bleeding,” you answer meekly.

“Bleeding?” 

You nod, confirming it, still too shy to look him in the eyes. He contemplates for a few seconds, understanding what you’re trying to say to him. Then, he laughs softly, giving you a delicate smooch on the cheek. “Oh, sweetheart. You think that’s going to stop me?” He nuzzles your ear, voice low and sultry. “I’m even hungrier for it now.”

Your cheeks burn, simultaneously flustered and aroused as he quickly positions himself between your legs, his golden eyes burning into yours, full of lust and desire. He tugs at your undergarments, already a dark spot of crimson leaking through it. Without hesitation, he sticks his tongue out, lapping at it for a taste before puckering his lips to suck on the damp fabric. He hums, delighting in the taste of you, of your blood. The mere thought of it makes you dizzy but seeing him smirk at you with your ruined panties between his lips has you aching. “Touch me, Adrian,” you beg, voice trembling. 

He pulls your underwear down your legs, breath warm on your loins as he speaks. “Touch you how, sweetheart?” He knows exactly what you want, but he’s going to torment you just a bit for almost denying him this pleasure. “Like this?” He licks a stripe on your clit, causing you to squirm from the sudden contact. 

“Yes, Adrian, fuck!” you cry out, your shout echoing from the high ceilings of his bedroom.

“You want me to taste you, is that right?” he taunts, giving you another stroke of his tongue, this time slower and more deliberate.

You nod frantically, clutching the sheets beneath you. He smiles, kissing the plush of your thigh, relenting his cruel teasing. “Of course, my love. I’ll give you whatever it is that you want.” He slides down, his mouth at your wet cunt, glistening with fresh blood and arousal. He licks his lips, ready to indulge in this fine meal you’ve laid before him. 

His thumb rests on your throbbing clit, massaging deep circles into it while he laps at your slit, consuming every single drop of you. Soon, his lips are smeared rouge, his fangs stained red, his pristine skin blushing scarlet, completely enthralled in devouring you. He bucks his hips against the bed, desperate for friction on his hardening cock. A guttural moan emits from his throat as he fucks you into an orgasm with his tongue and fingers, eager to drink all of your juices up. 

“You taste divine,” he purrs. “May I keep going?”

And who are you to deny a vampire of their deepest desires? You give him a weak nod, spreading your legs wider, body already quivering from ecstasy. He pleasures you into three more orgasms until your brain is mush and your limbs are limp against the sheets. Finally, he finishes inside you, taking you from behind, fucking his seed deep into your womb. He watches with a wanton gaze as he pulls out, cock dripping with your combined mess. 

Alucard really is a legend, and you’re more than happy to have found that out for yourself. 

[inbarfink]

The ‘Escapades‘ in TGAA1 are already such a top-tier idea. I mean, I really wish we could’ve had those in any of the other games somehow.... Overall they’re an incredibly delightful addition to the game, and taking them individually, the least good ones are still like ‘well, that was a fun little vignette for these characters, I’m just not sure if it 100% gels with the main events of the game’.

And I think my favorite one right now has to be the first one, ‘In the Defendant Antechamber’. It just does… so much great stuff to the Asoryuu dynamic, recontextualizes everything that comes after in a way that makes it even better and just feels like such an Essential Viewing for really understanding these two. 

It’s just… you can go through the entire game with Ryunosuke constantly calling Kazuma his ‘best friend’, the ‘person I trusts more than anyone else’ and you might just casually assume that these two go a long way back. Maybe not as much as Kazuma and Susato since Ryunosuke doesn’t have all the details about his childhood, but seeing how much they mean for each other, they must’ve known each other for a while, right?

NOPE

THEY MET IN COLLEGE

ABOUT A YEAR AGO

They’ve known each other for a year, just a pretty ordinary year of school, and they’re already got that Unbreakable Homoerotic Bond of Trust, and Ryunosuke is fully willing to lay down his life for the sake of Kazuma’s dream of going to London. And Kazuma is fully willing to abandon his literal Life Mission of clearing his dead father’s name and avenging him in the shame of failing to defend Ryunosuke. And he drags Ryunosuke with him to London because he knows that he’s the only one who can keep him from straying from his path. And then Ryunosuke decides to dedicate his entire life in the memory of Kazuma. His college buddy. 

But they’re not just college buddies. Because in that one year, they did forge such powerful emotional bonds that all of these actions make sense for them. Because they’re just that kind of Ridiculous Human Beings and I LOVE IT!!

And the story of how they met is just… perfection. Like, if you look at the pre-‘death’ Asoryuu dynamic, it’s very ‘Japan’s most amazing promising young lawyer-samurai is absolutely enamored with an Anxiety-Ridden Human Disaster’. Kazuma Asogi is the Proudest Moronsexual and Ryunosuke Naruhodo is dating way beyond his league.

But also….the thing that drew Kazuma to Ryunosuke in the first place is the fact that he bested him at something. Kazuma is this rising star at Yumei University, he’s got the brains and the brawn, it seems like he is poised for success and glory for the rest of his days - and then this anxious innocuous little goofball beats him… humiliates him even. Ryunosuke beat the star student of Yumei University without any ambition or ill-intention, he was just being himself, he is just this silly little linguistic dork who likes tongue-twisters. 

And Kazuma feels no real resentment or spite about this defeat. He was beaten at his own game by such a silly little guy and all he feels is respect and affection and appreciation. A desire for friendship. Maybe even love. 

And meanwhile, Ryunosuke has just kinda forgotten that this is how they met. I mean, it's not like he totally forgotten it, but... it doesn't seem to register as particularly Notable in his own memories. It's just not that important to him. That was probably a life-changing unforgettable event for Kazuma, but when Ryunosuke thinks about their friendship he just thinks about hanging out after class and eating Yakisoba together. Because that’s just the kinda guy Ryunosuke is, and I think Kazuma appreciates that just as much as his tongue-twister skills.

Also, it kinda connects to an idea I brought up in a previous post, that Kazuma Asogi is less of a direct counterpart to Miles Edgeworth and more of a… mirror image, an inversion.

Phoenix and Miles’ friendship started with Miles saving Phoenix…

A moment which was a world-changing story for Phoenix that literally defined his entire life, but Miles, although he always kept his memories of Phoenix close to his heart, can barely remember it. 

Ryunosuke and Kazuma’s friendship started with Ryunosuke beating Kazuma. A moment that is… certainly not the most important thing in Kazuma’s life, but one that has certainly made his mark on him, and one that he is not going to forget. But Ryunosuke just... doesn't really think about it unless it's directly brought up.

And it’s just… such a good piece of characterization for both of them on every thematic level, I just love it so much!!

[extraaa-30]

Why soft dom Aziraphale + bratty sub Crowley appeals to me

(be serious though they're both switches)*

Soft Dom Aziraphale

1. heaven

An angel is supposed to be the pure one, undefiled, meek, following orders without question, the girl to be got, the prize to be sought after, the white to be soiled. Subvert it! Aziraphale shouldn't be confined to an eternity of zero agency, naivety, and bland pastels. The idea of Aziraphale getting to really own his "bastard" side, getting to be "selfish," be demanding, be in control--delightful.

And, Aziraphale has guilt complexes on his guilt complexes. Because, unlike most of humanity, he is intimately aware of the righteous, pitiless violence that heaven is capable of. And he's made an art of subtly and ceaselessly defying it by being gentle, by demonstrating enormous restraint. He is a warrior who gave away his holy sword. He swerves severely in the direction of being reserved, harmless, feels clear guilt about any strong desires or direct asks. He has an obvious anxiety about excess (the mental acrobatics he does to justify his book collection, for example, are an entire circus). Free him from the fear of going too far!

2. the effeminate gay man

Thee Southern Pansy, "gay as a tree full of monkeys on nitrous oxide," with the fancy clothes and prim and proper aesthetic, ever the damsel in distress, flamboyant and limp-wristed, the one who is called slurs by children, the one who is sunshine and sweetness, "the nice one."

Except we know he is secretly a bastard! We know this bitch has preferences! Let him own that! The fact that he is effeminate should not automatically make him more submissive I literally hate that. On the inside Aziraphale is cunty and commanding and he should get to be!

3. with Crowley

Let him say what he craves directly so help me god! No double-speak, no games, no lustfully looking but then looking away immediately. Let him consume. Let him indulge in the gluttony he endlessly flirts with yet denies himself out of guilt and fear. The idea of Aziraphale as a gentle dom just seems so healing, like a puzzle piece that finally gets to click into place without shame.

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

Bratty Sub Crowley

1. hell

A demon is supposed to be the impure one, the defiler, the temptress, the seducer, the villain who takes, the black that soils. Subvert it! Crowley shouldn't be confined to the tropes of his demonic nature. He does not just take, just ruin. He is not inherently the one with experience while Aziraphale is the naive, pure little virgin. The idea of him being submissive to an angel (well...to this angel) is a delicious way to challenge that narrative.

And oh my god my girl has trust issues. As a demon his mentality is severely no allies, watch your back, the one who was cast out, rejected for a first offense, shaky ground, always in danger. He's not supposed to trust others, and he has legit biblically valid reasons to be wary and paranoid. Free him from the fear of trusting someone else to take control!

2. Mr. Cool

Mr. Bond, suave, smooth, stoic, sharp angles, stylish and slick, so very dangerous and criminal, the one with the car, the rebel, the snake. Compared with Aziraphale, he's supposed to be Mr. Hardass, "not nice."

Except we know he is secretly a disaster twink, 110% a soft sad little loser under that facade (and not buried that deep either)! He is a romantic who, in spite of hell, wants to give his angel chocolates! Let him own that!

3. with Aziraphale

Let him be unequivocally, unambiguously wanted oh my god! No guessing games! No trying to decipher what the fuck Aziraphale is really saying to him! Free him from the fear of always being "too fast" or "too late." All this bitch wants is for Aziraphale to be pleased by him, by Anthony J-acts-of-service Crowley! The idea of finally allowing him that...another puzzle piece. So satisfying and healing and safe.

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

*They're switches your honor

1. "our side"

Not heaven, not hell. Not angels or demons. Not all black or all white. If you think they don't switch, you're wrong.

2. weight & gender

Aziraphale is bigger and keeps his hair short and has a steadiness to him and all those things are perceived as more masculine by some and therefore stronger and more dominant. Fuck that! His size also is too often viewed as something unattractive, which--extremely fuck that. My boy is a treat and a catch. He should get to feel pretty and soft in a totally uncomplicated way as often as he goddamn wants.

Crowley is skinny, often has longer hair, has an absolute treasure hoard of gender, and there's a flightiness to him that's perceived as more feminine by some and therefore weaker and more submissive. Again I say fuck that! His slimness likewise is too often viewed as more desirable, more malleable and able to be cowed; to which I say: die! He is no dainty flower. He actually can often be commanding and capable. Take him seriously.

Furthermore: Aside from the obvious fact that weight, gender, and d/s all have jack shit to do with each other, subverting these tropes remains as important as subverting the other ones. Aziraphale should get to feel delicate and wanted just as much as Crowley. And Crowley should get to feel powerful and in control just as much as Aziraphale. To deny either of them those experiences...bad! Shut up!

3. Crowley & Aziraphale

Their dynamic is already basically gentle dom Aziraphale & bratty sub Crowley. Like literally inches below the surface lmao it's not that hard to spot (see: Az pouts about paint on his jacket, Crowley instantly rushes to fix it but in a cunty way; Crowley pins Az to a wall and Az isn't even slightly intimidated or out of control).

The problem is, they're not talking (see: Az can't ask directly; Crowley has to act tough). Which is why I personally feel that a more honest d/s dynamic, with all that unspoken ritual out in the open, would be an enormous relief for them.

That said, it's not fair to confine them to that familiar dynamic! Crowley isn't a sad wet rat all the time-- let him plan things and have them work out for once. Let him be (on purpose lol) successfully seductive! Likewise Aziraphale deserves to let his fucking hair down. Let my girl not have to do everything in this goddamn house! He deserves to not have to be the one in control all the time. He has trust issues just as deep as Crowley's, and equally deserves to feel safe and wanted.

Also Aziraphale is too much of a hedonist to not want to try everything. If you think he's sticking with one dynamic you are a fool. A clown. As my French-speaking 6,000 year old middle aged babygirl would say: an imbécile.

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

I wrote this for me, but if you read this far I hope you enjoyed it lol peace & love on planet earth

[yuujispinkhair]

Separation Anxiety (Chapter 13)

Put your lips on my scars and teach me to love

When a ritual separates Sukuna from Yuuji, Sukuna is delighted to find that besides having his own body, there is also another gift handed to him: The brat has lost all his memories and is now the perfect little plaything to take home and manipulate. At least, that's the plan. But the King of Curses isn't prepared for the feelings that come along with being human again. And another complication is how cute the brat is when he has no idea who Sukuna is and, instead of hating him, treats him with genuine love and affection. So, without realizing it, Sukuna suddenly finds himself on a journey of learning how to be loved and how to love.

++ Masterpost ++

Pairing: Sukuna x Yuuji Genre: Memory Loss AU, fluff, smut, light angst Word Count: 5k Playlist: Separation Anxiety Warnings: 18+, smut, mentions of violence, dub-con (Yuuji has lost his memories, and Sukuna lies to him about being boyfriends). All characters are of age. This story is 18+. Minors don't interact.

A little reminder for this chapter: In this AU, Shibuya and the Culling Game never happened.

Chapter 13

You've been my God, and when you're gone, I'm godless. But with my eyes closed, I'm still dancing in your love (Godless by BANKS)

Yuuji's POV:

Yuuji feels like he is trapped in a nightmare. It's similar to the feeling he initially had when, all those months ago, he woke up in a room he didn't know, with all his memories gone. But the difference is that back then, the nightmare soon dissolved, and while things were still weird for the first few days, Yuuji soon felt comfortable and was able to adjust to the life that Sukuna showed him. The life that Yuuji believed was his. 

But now, all that comfort and warmth is gone, ripped out of his hands and soul so cruelly. This is a nightmare Yuuji cannot wake up from.

He cannot bring himself to feel at home in this weird private school outside of Tokyo, surrounded by people he doesn't remember who keep telling him nightmarish things about curses and sorcerers and a fight between good and evil, which apparently Yuuji is part of.

A world in which Yuuji is the hero and Sukuna is the villain.

The first time they told him who Sukuna really is, Yuuji laughed hysterically. It seemed utterly insane. And yet, it matched the things Sukuna had said to him before he kicked Yuuji out.

The sorcerers showed Yuuji ancient records dating back over a thousand years, which talked about the strongest sorcerer of the Heian era. A King, a monster so terrifying and powerful that he was compared to a natural disaster.

The King of Curses. Ryomen Sukuna.

A name that is still feared today, a name that stands for bloodshed and cruelty, an ancient evil that everyone wishes had never been awakened again.

But Sukuna came back. He came back through Yuuji. He lived inside Yuuji for years, shared a body with him, and entwined their souls.

And Yuuji can still feel it.

His hand automatically comes up to his chest, pressing it against the spot that always feels so hollow now, like something is missing there, like there is a wound inside him that aches and bleeds and yearns for that missing piece. He wonders if Sukuna can feel it, too.

Everything feels strange.

Yuuji knows he should be appalled. And he is. He feels sick when he hears the stories about Sukuna. But at the same time, he cannot let go of the doubts running through his mind. Because the man Yuuji lived with, isn't the same person those records talk about. This monster everyone warns him about isn't at all like the man waiting in that fancy penthouse apartment. That caring, funny, and loving man who made Yuuji so happy.

Of course, looking back, Yuuji has to admit that there were several things that seemed off. Things that seemed utterly ludicrous or made no sense if Yuuji tried to dig a bit deeper. He had been aware of those, but had decided to ignore them.

He can recall feeling uneasy around Sukuna at first. This weird feeling of being prey that got cornered by its predator, like an insect caught in a spider's web. It had made the hairs on Yuuji's arms stand up. But Yuuji had swallowed that uneasiness down, refused to show it, and bravely fought it with all his power. He didn't want to make the man who took him in and looked after him feel like Yuuji was scared of him. Yuuji didn't want to seem ungrateful. He didn't want to hurt the person who said he was Yuuji's boyfriend.

And after all, it simply never occurred to Yuuji that someone would make up a story like that just to keep him with them. So he ignored that weird feeling and told himself he was stupid for being wary. Because why should he be scared of his own boyfriend?

And soon, things felt different. Soon Yuuji felt drawn to Sukuna. Soon, he felt at ease around him. Soon, he really liked Sukuna. And he chided himself for thinking something seemed off in the beginning. Sukuna was sweet to him! He was caring and understanding and so patient with Yuuji and his recovery. He was the perfect boyfriend.

Looking back at it now, Yuuji knows that it was just part of the plan that was supposed to lead to his downfall. But was it really just that?

In the beginning, it probably was. But after that? After several months of living together? Didn't Sukuna seem really distraught and sick with worry when Yuuji got injured? Hadn't it been real love looking back at Yuuji out of those beautiful sapphire eyes when they made love during that thunderstorm?

When Yuuji thinks of Sukuna, he doesn't see red eyes and bloodshed. He doesn't see a cruel smirk, and violence. When Yuuji thinks of Sukuna, he sees a genuine smile and light blue eyes that were always so warm when they looked at Yuuji. He sees a warm, loving hand reaching out to him to hold him, to guide him, to take care of him.

The memories make Yuuji choke. Make him hug himself tightly as a deep longing fills him, so strong that it manifests in physical pain.

The people at the Jujutsu Academy try to tell him it is all just a lie, that the love he and Sukuna shared has never been real. But that's not how it feels to Yuuji.

Am I too naive? Was it really all just a game to Sukuna?

Yuuji cannot believe it, even after everything they told him. He is still haunted by the tenderness of the last kiss Sukuna breathed onto his cheek and the sadness written all over Sukuna's face when he pushed Yuuji away. That wasn't the face of a man who was just playing a cruel game. That was the face of someone who had his heart ripped out of his chest.

Yuuji wants to leave. He wants to go home.

It's not that the people here at the academy are mean to him. They aren't at all. Everyone is very nice to him. They look at him with eyes that hold empathy and sadness. Yuuji can easily believe that those people used to be his friends in a life he can't remember. Megumi and Nobara seem nice and truly worried about him. Yuuji is sure that in his former life, the three of them got along really well.

But even though he is convinced they mean well, he can't bring himself to accept any of it. Everything feels wrong now that everything he believed was true is suddenly revealed as a big lie.

His former teachers, now coworkers, try to re-introduce Yuuji to his life as a jujutsu sorcerer. They show him documents, pictures, and all kinds of twisted things that shouldn't even exist. And Yuuji asks a thousand questions. Sometimes, he receives sad smiles in return and no real answer. Other times, he gets the cold, hard truth that sends him spiraling even further and yet makes him feel strangely better because at least he knows they aren't holding things back from him.

He finds that the white-haired, tall guy, Gojo, is the most open about things. At times, what he tells Yuuji seems tactless and cruel, but Yuuji appreciates that someone tells him everything instead of treating him with kid gloves.

Gojo is also the one who answers Yuuji's most pressing question.

They are sitting at Gojo's desk. Various files are spread out on the table, reports about former missions. Yuuji's skin tingles unpleasantly anytime Gojo casually mentions how many victims there had been in each case.

The life of a jujutsu sorcerer seems to be filled with blood and death. Sorcerers have to kill, and it makes a feeling of dread wash over Yuuji, which gradually grows stronger and stronger until he can't take it anymore and he asks what has been plaguing him ever since they opened that first file,

"Did... did I kill someone, too?"

"Yes."

That single word makes black spots dance in front of Yuuji's eyes as he clenches his fists so tightly that his nails draw blood.

"You had to do it, Yuuji. Don't blame yourself for it. Those were people who got transfigured into something else completely. You gave them peace by doing it. You are a good person."

Yuuji can only huff at that. Just yesterday, he read about several clan heads getting murdered by Sukuna a thousand years ago, and the reports painted Sukuna as a ruthless monster. And now Yuuji listens to the deaths that were caused by his own hands, but the reports file it under a job well done, a success for humanity.

Blood is rushing in his ears.

Everyone here tells him that the sorcerers are on the good side and that they protect people. And, of course, Yuuji likes the thought of being a hero. He likes the thought of fighting evil. But the problem is that he is painfully becoming aware that things rarely are just as black and white as a lot of people seem to believe.

Yuuji's face twists in a pained grimace as he thinks of those horror movies he recently watched with Sukuna, The Human Earthworm series, and how Yuuji felt a strange sympathy for the monster. The series had touched him in a way that he wasn't able to explain, but maybe he is beginning to understand it now.

Is there 100% evil and 100% good? Who decides who is a monster?

Yuuji gulps hard as he thinks again about that one special file with his name on the front. The red one. The one that contains information about how he became part of the jujutsu society. The circumstances of his birth. How he was made to be the perfect vessel or, rather, the perfect cage for Sukuna. And the document that states that Yuuji was sentenced to death. He found out that it was only thanks to Megumi and Gojo that his execution had been suspended. But most members of the jujutsu society still refuse to see him as a human being. In their eyes, Yuuji is a monster, too.

Gojo's large hand reaches out and ruffles Yuuji's hair in what is supposed to be a soothing gesture. But Yuuji flinches away from it. The gentle touch reminds him too painfully of Sukuna.

He excuses himself and flees to his room, hiding in the bed that feels too small and too cold and too empty.

He switches on the TV in a desperate attempt to distract himself and drown out all the thoughts that keep torturing him. But unbidden, his mind wanders to memories of pink hair on black silk sheets, beautiful sapphire-colored eyes that look deeply into his, and strong, tattooed arms reaching out to hold him gently. Yuuji imagines he can still feel the warmth of those arms around him, and before he even realizes what he is doing, he hugs himself in an attempt to soothe the longing those memories cause.

No matter how fake things might have been in the beginning, the last few months with Sukuna had been wonderful.

They lived in their own little world. They only had each other and Uraume. But it was enough. It was perfect. Sukuna and Yuuji watched movies every night, they laughed together, they went on dates, they made love, they kissed for hours and drowned in each other's eyes, and Yuuji felt as close to Sukuna as he thinks one can possibly feel to another person. They were happy. They were in love. And Yuuji wants that back!

A strangled sob escapes his lips, and he pushes himself up into a kneeling position. His fist connects with his pillow, punching it desperately as more sobs shake his body and angry tears run down his face.

Why can't I let go?

Why does that place in his chest still ache so much, as if his soul is bleeding? As if it yearns and screams for its other half. The other half that is supposedly evil incarnate and yet feels like the only thing that can make Yuuji feel okay again.

Yuuji is sitting in the dining area with Megumi and Nobara, listening half-heartedly to their bickering. Nobara is talking about a shopping spree she wants to do, and Megumi chides her for spending too much money on useless things. But Yuuji's mind is filled with memories of walking through the city with Sukuna only a few weeks ago. The feeling of Sukuna's thumb caressing his wrist when Yuuji took his hand. The smile on Sukuna's face when Yuuji came out of the changing room in a fine black suit he tried on in one of the designer stores.

Before he can stop himself, Yuuji blurts out,

"I want to go home."

Silence settles over the table. Nobara and Megumi have both stopped talking mid-sentence and stare at him before they both ask at the same moment,

"Why would you want to go back?"

It's almost comical how they stare at him with such incredulous expressions on their faces. But Yuuji can't find the situation funny. He feels a whole array of contradicting emotions curse through him. Guilt, because these are his friends, and they are worried about him and want to protect him, and he is so stubborn and refuses to let them save him. Sadness because despite everything, he misses Sukuna. And a steadily growing irritation that everyone here claims they know what's best for Yuuji without actually listening to what he wants. And that's what makes him stare back at his friends challengingly,

"Because I miss my home, of course. And I miss Sukuna."

His friends stare at him as if he has lost his mind. Nobara is the first to react. Her small fists land loudly on the wooden table, and she practically yells at him,

"Are you fucking dumb? He is the King of Curses! You cannot go back to him!"

And then Megumi's low voice joins in, calmer than Nobara but still obviously furious.

"We told you who he is and what he did. How can you still want to go back? Snap out of it, Itadori! This is your home! Here at the academy, with us. You wouldn't be safe with Sukuna. Don't be stupid."

"But the person you told me about, this King of Curses. That isn't the Sukuna I know! The Sukuna I know isn't evil!"

Yuuji knows how stupid he sounds, trying to argue and ignore the truth. Acting like a stubborn and naive child. But he can't help it. Nothing makes sense anymore. The person they tell him about sounds like a stranger to Yuuji. Nothing they tell him about Sukuna sounds like the man Yuuji lived with. The man he shared his bed with. The man he watched movies with every night. The man who carried him to bed when Yuuji fell asleep. The man he laughed with, the man he cuddled with, and went on morning runs in the park with. Nothing they say sounds like the man Yuuji was in love with, and who, as Yuuji still firmly believes, loved him too.

Megumi looks at him with his blue eyes, which are a darker shade of blue than Sukuna's. His usually so calm voice is trembling lightly,

"He is a bad person. He killed people."

A hysterical laugh escapes Yuuji's lips at that.

"So did I, apparently, and you too. Everyone here is a murderer, Megumi."

"That's different!"

"Maybe I had good reasons for it, maybe I didn't. All I know is that there is blood on my hands, too! So, who am I to judge? Maybe Sukuna thought he was in the right, too. We don't know it! Were you there a thousand years ago? Did you see it happen? Do you know Sukuna? Because I do! And he isn't the evil monster you are trying to tell me he is!"

Yuuji knows he sounds delusional, but he cannot stop. He adds stubbornly,

"Think what you want, but he isn't the way you say. And I want to go home and see him again because I love him."

Megumi looks like Yuuji hit him. He shakes his head, eyes pleading helplessly with Yuuji now, his face twisted with worry.

"It's not love, Itadori..."

Yuuji knows Megumi means good, but he cannot stop himself from feeling anger rise in his chest. Anger that everyone treats him like a stupid child or some lunatic who has lost his mind. Anger that no one allows him to have his own opinion on the matter. Anger that no one actually listens to what he says. He glares at Megumi, his hands balled into fists under the table, but his voice is deadly calm, a low, dangerous growl,

"Don't tell me what my relationship is and what it's not."

Yuuji gets up so fast that his chair gets knocked over, but he doesn't care. He has to get away! He cannot bear looking into the pleading eyes of his former friends and hear their accusations and judgment. He cannot stand to see the worry in their eyes or hear the desperation in their voices as they try to save him from the monster that Yuuji refuses to see as a monster.

Or maybe he believes them. Maybe Sukuna is a monster. But after everything that Yuuji has learned about himself, he is pretty sure that he is a monster, too. Maybe that's why his and Sukuna's souls match so well.

Maybe we are two monsters who belong together. Maybe it takes a monster to love a monster.

Yuuji storms outside, breathing heavily as he runs towards the large gates, even though he already knows what will happen once he is close enough.

As expected, only a few seconds later, Yuuji runs into an invisible wall. It makes him stumble back, but instead of trying to regain his balance, Yuuji lets himself fall to the ground defeatedly, landing on his ass with a loud thud.

He tilts his head back to look at the slight glimmer in the air before him, which indicates where the powerful barrier starts. There is no use fighting it. Yuuji is effectively locked in here.

He laughs grimly at the irony that the sorcerers installed a barrier around the academy that keeps Yuuji locked inside while at the same time they try to tell him that Sukuna was the one who held him hostage.

At least Sukuna let me leave the house anytime I wanted.

Yuuji lets out a shaky breath. He knows no one believes him when he says that he and Sukuna were in love. He knows they are convinced it was just one-sided, that Yuuji got tricked into having feelings for Sukuna, while Sukuna only saw it as a cruel little game.

But Yuuji refuses to believe them. He knows that his and Sukuna's relationship wasn't just a lie.

He cannot forget the way Sukuna looked at him. And he can't help but think that he is the only one who truly knows Sukuna. The real Sukuna. Not the King of Curses. But the man behind that title. The man who thinks cherry blossoms look pretty, especially when they land on Yuuji's hair. The man who always has that happy expression in his eyes when he eats a good meal. The man who reads poetry and laughed even louder than Yuuji at certain movie scenes. The man who almost purred when Yuuji petted his hair and who was clinging tightly to his boyfriend in his sleep.

The thought makes Yuuji smile sadly. He can still remember how it felt to be wrapped in Sukuna's arms and in his love. And it still feels like the only thing that makes sense in this world.

How is Yuuji supposed to move on from something that felt so right? How is he supposed to believe that this is wrong?

Yuuji sighs. Tears slowly run down his cheeks, but he doesn't bother wiping them away.

It hurts. Everything hurts. There is this emptiness in Yuuji's chest again, as if something that is supposed to be there has been ripped out of him forcefully. And in moments like these, it grows stronger and turns from a dull ache to a stabbing pain.

He pulls his knees to his chest, hugging himself as he cries softly while sitting on the cold, stony path, probably looking like misery incarnated. But Yuuji cannot feel embarrassed even when Gojo finds him like this.

Gojo doesn't say anything but just sits down next to Yuuji, not close enough that they touch, but close enough so Yuuji can feel the warmth radiating from Gojo's body. They sit in silence for a moment until the words spill from Yuuji's lips.

"I want to see him again. I want my life back! Even if it isn't really my life, I want it back! But everyone tells me I am wrong for wanting it. Everyone tells me Sukuna is evil. All the reports say he is a monster. But I have all those other memories of him. Sukuna was so... He was sweet to me! Everyone tells me I am crazy and that I only got manipulated into thinking I love Sukuna, but that's not how it feels to me! It was real! And it hurts that I am not with him! I don't know what to do. I feel like a part of me is missing and that I will never be whole again if I cannot be with Sukuna."

Those otherworldly blue eyes look thoughtfully at him. There is no anger or judgment, only a deep, knowing sadness as if Gojo understands what Yuuji is talking about.

When Gojo answers, his voice is very different from the one he usually uses. There is no teasing undertone to it, no amused smirk on his face, no mockery. Instead, he sounds wary, as if the words he says to Yuuji have been haunting him for a long time.

"Love is the cruelest curse of all, Yuuji. We cannot control who we love, and even when we know a thousand reasons why we shouldn't love them, we still cannot change it."

Another sob escapes Yuuji's lips, and he nods wildly. Gojo smiles, but it's a sad smile, one of regret.

"I, too, thought Sukuna wasn't capable of love. But maybe I was wrong. I thought about it a lot after you came here and told your story. The thing is, If you ask anyone, they will tell you I am not capable of love either. But that's not true. I have loved in the past. I have loved so much that it became my biggest weakness."

Yuuji blinks at his former teacher, surprised that Gojo is talking about personal things. And that he doesn't seem to outright say Sukuna just played with Yuuji. Gojo smirks at Yuuji, but it isn't his usual aloof smirk. It looks forced and isn't able to hide the raw emotions underneath it. When Gojo continues, his voice is soft, carrying a vulnerability Yuuji hasn't seen in Gojo yet.

"The one I loved did terrible things, too. But that wasn't able to make me stop loving him. In the end, I killed him, and it still haunts me and I still ask myself every day if I could have done something differently. If I could have brought him back on our side. If I could have saved him if I just tried harder. That's my curse, and I carry it with me at all times."

And Yuuji understands. Gojo can relate to him. Yuuji smiles softly and offers a sincere, "I am sorry."

But Gojo isn't finished.

"Before your memory loss, the connection between you and Sukuna was a breeding ground for hate. Sukuna treated you and the ones you cared about with cruelty, and so you reacted fittingly and treated him with hate, too. But everything changed when you lost your memories. Because it meant that Sukuna was a blank page for you. And for whatever reason, he wanted you to believe he was your boyfriend, so he was nice to you. He didn't give you any reason to hate him. And so you treated him differently, too. You treated him with affection instead of hatred. Maybe that is what changed everything."

Yuuji gulps hard and looks at his former teacher with a racing pulse and a flicker of something in the back of his mind. A thought, an understanding, that sits deep inside him, but he cannot quite catch yet.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that maybe there is more to that whole fake-boyfriend thing. What if Sukuna himself wasn't aware of the real reason why he did it? What if this whole idea was born out of a deep-buried wish, maybe? Something Sukuna didn't even know he craved: To get a taste of what it feels like to be on the receiving end of that genuine love that you have in you? He watched you give that love to everyone around you all those years he spent inside your body. He saw it when you were kind to strangers and ran to everyone's rescue. He saw it in the way you treated your friends. So, what if, deep down, Sukuna wanted to be on the receiving end of that love, too, for once?

And he got that from you after you lost your memories, didn't he? You gave him love, Yuuji. Because that's just what you do. That's who you are.

You are so genuine, so sweet, and full of love. You come to others with open arms and affection, ready to save everyone and give your life for them. There is no one else who is better at making people's hearts melt. You are the embodiment of love.

And maybe that is what Sukuna needed. Maybe this was the only way he could learn about love. Maybe he needed you to show him. If anyone is able to teach Sukuna how to love, I am sure it is you."

Yuuji stares at Gojo, utterly touched by his words, his mind whirling. He lets out a shaky breath and wipes his eyes with his palms.

"So... does that mean you believe me that what Sukuna and I had was real? You believe me that Sukuna loves me too and is no danger to me?"

Gojo laughs softly, but Yuuji can see the seriousness of the situation in those otherworldly blue eyes.

"What I believe is that if Sukuna wanted, he would have already attacked us. He would have already burned down this whole city months ago and killed everyone who didn't fall on their knees in front of him. But did he do any of that?

He didn't. And there is no logical explanation for it. The only thing I can think of is that you are the reason. Sukuna changed his agenda because of you. Maybe he isn't interested in those things anymore because he found something else, something more powerful. Maybe he chose you and your love instead of the destruction and solitude he was used to."

Gojo's gaze burns into Yuuji's as the seconds tick by, and his words sink in. Yuuji feels like he will choke on the fresh tears that threaten to spill over. He wipes furiously at his eyes, gulping hard. And Gojo smiles that sad smile again before he adds,

"If you want to leave, you are free to do so. I won't let them keep you a prisoner, especially not since I think they got it all wrong. You are far more powerful than they think or than you think. You were created to be the perfect cage for Sukuna, the only one strong enough to control him. And I think that's what you still do. You still have control over Sukuna, even now that you are two separate people. Maybe that is the fate Sukuna can't escape from.

It's quite ironic, isn't it? Sukuna isn't trapped inside your body anymore, but you still have control over him because he cares about you now. That's why I think you are still everyone's life insurance, and it would be pretty counterproductive to keep you and Sukuna apart. You still serve as a cage for the King of Curses because you made him fall in love with you."

And with that, Gojo makes a gesture with his hands. Yuuji feels a slight tingling sensation on his skin. The subtle glimmer in the air in front of him vanishes, and Gojo gets up and grins down at him, extending one hand to Yuuji.

Yuuji takes it and lets his former teacher pull him to his feet, his gaze fixed on the now barrier-free path before him.

Yuuji has barely reached the broad road leading into the city when a loud bark to his left fills the air. A moment later, a large dog is standing in front of him in the middle of the road. Yuuji skitters to a halt just when a familiar low voice speaks up behind him.

"Don't do it. Please, don't go back. I know what Gojo is doing. He is sending you back because he thinks you can serve as another cage for Sukuna. Don't you see it? This isn't about helping you. He is using you, just like they all do. Don't go, Yuuji. You finally have a chance to escape all of this. You have a chance to live your own life. You aren't Sukuna's vessel or cage anymore. You are free. Don't throw that away."

Megumi steps up to Yuuji, looking at him with those sad blue eyes filled with worry and longing, and Yuuji knows at that moment. He knows that Megumi truly cares about him. That Megumi wants to protect him. That Megumi loves him. It makes Yuuji's heart clench. His face softens, and he reaches out to pat Megumi's shoulder and smiles the broadest smile at him that he can,

"Thank you, Megumi. But you see, I want to go back. I am not doing this to sacrifice myself. I am doing it because I want it. I am doing it for me. Because I want that life back that made me happy. And I want to be with Sukuna. Or at least I want to talk to him and try to find a way to make this work."

"I don't think it is safe for you."

"I know you are worried about me, Megumi. Thank you for that, but I have to figure things out for myself. Because everything I learned here is very different from how I experienced things when I was still living with Sukuna. And you said it yourself. I am free. I want to use this freedom to find out the whole truth. Please understand that. That's all I'm asking."

Megumi sighs, his hands repeatedly balling into fists and unclenching again. He looks deeply into Yuuji's eyes as if he is searching for something.

"Can you promise me that you are really doing this for yourself?"

Yuuji nods wildly, his smile growing even bigger,

"I promise you. Trust me. It's going to be okay."

He feels a strange familiarity as if this has happened before. As if he has spoken those words to Megumi before. He sees Megumi's eyes widen, maybe remembering it, too. His lips tremble slightly as he stares at Yuuji for a long moment, but then Megumi nods slowly and takes a step back.

"Okay, I trust you. But be careful... and remember, if you die again, I'll kill you myself."

Yuuji stares at his friend's stern gaze for a moment, feeling that same sense of deja vu again. As if Megumi has said those exact words to him before, too. In his life before the memory loss, before the separation from Sukuna. As if this is some inside joke Megumi and Yuuji have, and it makes Yuuji laugh heartily, feeling lighter now that his friend seems to have his back.

Yuuji turns around and lets out a long breath. He will return to the city and to Sukuna. He doesn't know how things will be when he faces Sukuna again now that Yuuji knows the truth. He doesn't know how he will feel when he looks into Sukuna's eyes again. He doesn't even know if Sukuna will talk to him. But Yuuji knows that he wants to try. He knows that he needs to see the man again who impacted his life so profoundly, before and after the memory loss.

I know what I want, and I can be pretty stubborn. I won't give up that easily!

Thank you so much for reading! I struggled a lot with this chapter, but I worked so long on it and re-wrote and edited it many times, so I hope it is ok now!! I gave my best!

I needed to add a scene with Yuuji and Megumi because my heart was bleeding at the thought of what they lost. So I hope this little scene was able to make things better and show that they still have a deep connection based on genuine love.

And I cried so much at the whole "Sukuna unintentionally wanted to be on the receiving end of Yuuji's love" thing and that he changed because Yuuji finally treated him with love instead of hate. I personally really think that if anyone can teach Sukuna love, it is Yuuji.

Also, it makes me happy that our King of Selflessness, Itadori Yuuji, stands up for what HE wants ;)

Thank you so much if you are still reading this AU!! It means a lot to me!!

Comments and reblogs would be very sweet 💗

[notbang]

even if it was a dumb idea...

[spontaneousglitterbees]

[TAPP AU Masterpost]

Errant pieces of code on an old hard-drive are kinda the closest thing an AI entity has to baby pictures, right? How embarrassing...

Finally I get around to explaining some of K1B0's deal in this AU!

Alter Ego had some influence in digital space and showed K1B0 some of their (and by extension Chihiro's) favorite things about quasi/living, which in more literal terms sped up the development of his AI into something trained to have greater complexity and pattern recognition on a level closer to AE's own. They were delighted to finally have a friend in their same state of existence, someone they could relate to on a fundamental level the same way their human friends can relate to one another, a true companion in cyberspace.

Then, of course, Team Danganronpa started scraping for "the Ultimate Programmer's AI" to put in their killing simulation to fill out the roster and act as their eyes and ears into the program. They certainly did grab An AI, and one that needed heavy "repairs" in the transferring process. Plus some... creative liberties, about his powers and backstory (but he was always going to look like a nerd).

That still doesn't explain how K1B0 became Kiibo, though. Somehow, through the chaos, Kiibo developed what can only really be called a Soul; the imprint of which is still on one of the drives from the TAPP disaster. He might not be exactly the same, but it's the best chance they've got to bring their friend back among the living.

He does belong among the living now, doesn't he? What with all the friends he's made and experiences he's had, he's a full-fledged Human now, right?

And Human means you belong in the physical world. Most of the gang would agree.

One among them, however, just misses how things used to be....

[goosewriting]

Dinner Disaster

summary: after some flirting, reth finally asks reader out for dinner, but it doesn’t go as planned (follows the dinner disaster quest)

relationship: Reth x gn!reader

warnings: spoilers for Reth’s backstory and interactions, smooching

word count: 5.1k 

A/N: literally no one asked for this but this game is consuming my very being to a molecular level, and this man is a big reason i’m obsessed. btw if any of you play palia or are interested in playing, hmu and we can add each other lol this is set some time after the flirting starts, after reader gets involved in his uh, side business. this is more or less how the quest played out in my head so, yeah, enjoy~

(english is not my first language. constructive criticism and grammar corrections are very appreciated!)

— — —

Since you developed a real green thumb, to the delight and pride of Badruu, you have some extra apples from your tree that you don’t know what to do with. So, as with most of your garden surplus, you decide to bring them to Reth, who will surely find a good use for the produce.

You spot the freckled Majiri behind the bar when you enter the Inn, thinking that he’d probably make an apple pie with the fruit, and that you’d surely get a slice. Your mouth waters at the thought. You wonder when the cook will teach you the recipe; maybe you should ask him. 

Reth’s working the register, finishing some transaction with another human customer, when you place the wooden crate of apples on the bar, and proceed to take a seat on the stool you usually occupy when you visit him at the Inn. Reth gives the apples a curious glance, and talks to you over his shoulder as he hands the customer some change.

“Thanks, babe,” he says without thinking, and you both freeze at his words, as does the human who just paid for a recipe. They shoot you a quick look with raised brows, then silently turn on their heels and walk out of the Inn. Reth slowly turns to you. 

“Sorry, that kinda slipped out,” he says sheepishly, unable to meet your eyes. “Are we at the babe status yet?”

To be honest, if he had asked you first, you probably would have said no. It’s not your favourite pet name, and he could surely come up with something better. He often calls you sweet tooth, which you’ve actually come to like a lot. But hearing him call you ‘babe’ so matter-of-factly out of nowhere… You’re surprised to realise that you actually like how it sounded, how it sounds coming from him.

“I mean… If you want to be,” you answer after a moment, deciding to tease him a little. “Sure thing, babe.”

Except that it backfires and it ends with both of your faces burning up, which he tries to play off by clearing his throat. 

“Yeah, I’ll still have to get used to it, too,” you chuckle, bringing a hand to your face in an attempt to cover up how flustered you got. “But I like it when you say it.”

“Noted,” he replies, then looks around the Inn to see if someone else will approach the register. As there’s no one else, he fully faces you, leaning slightly over the bar. “Say, what are you up to today?”

“Oh you know, the usual,” you reply, starting to count on your fingers. “Hunting, fishing, foraging. Then tending to the vegetable garden. I also need to craft a new chair. Why?”

“A-are you busy later tonight?”

You prop yourself up on your elbow and give him a lopsided smile. 

“I’m never too busy for you,” you offer, and he smiles amusedly at your answer. “You have anything in mind?”

“I was thinking we could have dinner. At your place, maybe?” he asks. “I’ll take care of the food and everything. You just have to show up.”

Up until now, no one has actually visited your house. Sure, you upgraded from your first precarious tent to a proper building, and the Majiri came by every so often to say hi or bring you something, but no one has actually gone into your house. And for some reason the thought of Reth not only being at your place but also being the first one to do so, it makes you a bit nervous… but in a good way.

You realise that he’s still looking at you waiting for an answer, fidgeting with a loose nail on the wooden crate still on the bar. 

“I’d love that, actually,” you reply.

“Great!” He looks actually relieved. As if I would have said no to you asking me out, you think, smiling to yourself. He’s so innocent sometimes. Reth takes the crate and shoves it under the bar somewhere. 

“Then let’s say around 6pm?” he proposes.

“Sounds good,” you agree with a nod. 

Ashura enters the Inn, giving you a warm smile and a wave from afar as he spots you. Given that it’s his boss and you shouldn’t be distracting Reth from work, you take it as your cue to leave.

“See you later then,” you say in a low voice so Ashura can’t hear you.

“Don’t miss me too much,” Reth gives you his usual goodbye. He winks at you and you merely roll your eyes as you turn to exit the place. And just in time, so he can’t see your flustered face. You can’t remember when exactly the winking started, but it never fails to make you weak in the knees.

Once down at the plaza, you refocus on your tasks for the day, mentally making a list of the things to buy, resources to mine and places to go. Then you head for your first stop with a spring in your step. Tonight can’t come quickly enough.

— — —

You come home with a backpack full to the brim of crabs, plants, stones and other goodies. As you set down your things on the grass with a grunt from the weight, you see your palcat coming out of the house to greet you.

“Hey there,” you say, crouching down to scratch her head. She purrs and meows happily. You recently got this companion, and it’s been nice having someone at home to come back to. She often accompanies you when you go out as well, but this morning she was feeling especially lazy and cosy so she stayed in bed. You walk to your storage crate, starting to put everything away, and your cat looks at you with a light tilt to the head as you tell her about your day.

“Oh and actually,” you finish your retelling with the big news. “We’re having a visitor today.”

“Mreow?”

“Yeah, him… So you have to be on your best behaviour, you hear me?” you tell your cat with an accusing finger pointing at her. “We have to make a good impression. If you’re good, you can have lots of treats later, okay?”

She meows again, and you like to think she just agreed; bribes with food always work, after all.

There’s still some time until six, so you tend to your garden, clean yourself and change into a new set of clothes, the nicer one. It’s the only one you own, and it was a gift from Jel. In fact, all the clothing you have was given to you by him in some way or another. You make a mental note to prepare a gift for him for helping you out so much.

Next to your house there’s a nice spot among the trees, near the pond, where you can hear the trickling of water. You grab a big blanket and a lantern, and set everything up for a picnic corner. Even if whatever Reth brought was more of a “plates and cutlery at the table” kind of meal, you could still come out here after and look at the stars a bit. Then, maybe you’ll find the courage to make a proper move on him… You imagine the both of you sitting on the blanket, illuminated only by the warm glow of a candle and the gentle moonlight, you take his hand, he leans in, and… 

You mentally slap yourself to get rid of those thoughts, cheeks ablaze. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, you reprimand yourself. He may be a bit of a flirt at times, but Reth doesn’t strike you as the type of person to take such feelings lightly. So you have to make sure that he even is into you in the first place. Like actually into you. Suddenly your whole mental scenario shifts, and as you take his hand, he pulls away, disgusted. But wait. Dinner was his idea. He even called you ‘babe’. Surely he must have some interest, right? You’re not just… a side piece? 

Before you can spiral down further, you hear your name being called, although it’s not the voice you were expecting; this one is higher and has a slight lisp. You turn around to find Auni by the gate to your yard. You jog up to where he stands, smiling curiously. Sure, he delivers the mail twice a day, but usually you just find the letters in your mailbox as if they magically appeared; you never saw him actually deliver anything. You wonder if he has a new cool bug to show you.

“Hey Auni!” you greet the boy as you approach him. 

“Hi, I have a delivery for you,” he announces, holding out something for you to take.

“Oh, what is it?”

“Reth paid me in cakes to have this brought to you asap, said it was really important.”

“Oh?” 

You take the letter from him with a thanks, and he says his goodbyes. Why would Reth send a letter when he’s supposed to show up himself? Maybe it’s a treasure hunt kinda thing? 

You open the folded piece of paper, which isn’t even in an envelope, recognising Reth’s handwriting, but it’s even messier and more hurried than usual. The curious smile on your face disappears, your brows furrowing as you read.

Hey, I feel like a HUGE jerk for doing this, but I have to cancel our plans tonight. Something came up that I can’t ignore. Next time we see each other I promise I’ll explain.

- Reth

It feels like your whole body suddenly runs cold, and your hands drop to your sides, your eyes looking ahead at nothing in particular.

Your cat, who had poked her head out the door when she heard Auni, seems to sense the shift in you and approaches, meowing softly, as if asking if everything is okay. You look down at her, and give a light shrug.

“Looks like we won’t have visits after all…” you explain, reading over the letter one more time, then letting out a deep sigh. “Let’s get you something to eat, c’mon.”

She seems to know those words, as she immediately stands up and circles around your legs. Following you inside, she waits for you to get the bowl ready, and once you set it on the ground, she happily digs in.

“Well, at least one of us got a nice dinner.”

You stroke once from her head to her long bushy tail, to which she comically lifts her behind, then you decide to turn in for the night and head to bed, not really feeling hungry despite the eventful day.

— — —

The next morning you wake up to the sunlight shining through your window and fully hitting your face; you forgot to close the blinds the night before. With a squint, you look down at the weight you feel on yourself and find your cat curled up on your lap, which gets a sleepy half smile out of you. 

Picking her up in your arms, you go to close one of the blinds, then make your bed and head to the kitchen for breakfast. You start your routine like normal, having breakfast, taking care of the garden, going through your inventory to check what you need and what you can sell. You take your time, though, not really wanting to head into the village just yet. 

By the time you’re ready to go, it’s almost noon. Usually you’d be at the inn in the morning to say hi to Reth and chat a bit before starting your day. And while you really don’t feel like talking to him after leaving you hanging yesterday, you also know that he’s probably beating himself up about it, even more so if you haven’t been seen all morning. So after heaving a deep sigh, in hopes of letting all anger and frustration exit your body, you walk through the gate down into the village. To your surprise and delight, your cat follows this time.

You make your way towards the central plaza, exchanging greetings with those who walk by you, stopping to have a short chat with Chayne, whom you probably don’t talk to enough. You make a mental note to remedy that.

Somewhere in your mind though, you know you’re just stalling; you should just get it over with. Reth probably has a good explanation. Besides, you don’t want to be mad at him or give him the silent treatment or anything. You miss him, and you do want to see him. You’re just… disappointed. 

Taking one last deep breath as you stand before the Inn, you look down at your palcat and give her a nod. She meows encouragingly. You walk in through the open door, relieved to find it mostly empty. There’s very few people sitting at the tables in the corner, and Ashura isn’t at the reception desk. 

Your eyes find Reth’s behind the bar, and he freezes for a moment. You approach him like you normally would, about to take a seat on your usual stool.

“Wait,” he says before you’re able to fully sit down. You merely shoot him a questioning look. He lowers his voice, shooting a quick glance at the people eating at the tables. “Let’s talk in the back.” 

Reth scribbles something on a piece of paper and places it next to the till, indicating for you to follow him with a nod of his head. You pat the seat you meant to take while commanding your cat to hop onto it, and she does, so you tell her to stay there and wait. Then as you walk to where he said, you take a quick look at the paper; it reads “back in 5”.

You follow Reth into the back room, and you both come to stand in the farthest corner; since there are two archways but only one has a door, this will have to do to stay away from prying ears and curious eyes. You both talk in hushed voices.

“I’m sorry about yesterday,” he says with a sigh, scratching his neck. He drags his eyes up to meet yours, scared of what he might find.  “Please don’t be mad. Are you mad? You can be a little mad. I’m such a jerk–”

“Hey, no need don’t say that,” you interrupt him, and you just look at each other in silence for a second. “I mean, I’m upset, but not in a ‘mad at you’ way. More in a… ‘I was really looking forward to it and was bummed that you had to cancel at the last minute’ way.

“I was really looking forward to it too, it’s just…” Reth runs his hand over his face with a groan. “Yesterday was kind of a mess.”

“What happened?”

“Ashura caught me sneaking into the back rooms after hours. I panicked, so I lied and said I was actually planning a party for him, as a thank you. He liked that idea, so he got off my back, but now I actually have to throw him a dinner party with other people.”

You look to the side, unable to stop the scoff that escapes you. But it isn’t a mocking or offended scoff, it’s more of an amused sharp exhale. 

For a moment, you think back to how you kind of ended up roped into his side hustle of smuggling illicit goods (especially Flow and ancient artifacts, which are very illegal), which is why he was sneaking around in the first place. You’ve been covering for him with Ashura and many others for a while now, and while at first it was more of a personal favour, now you're in too deep. Not that you mind, though. If you’re being honest with yourself, it adds a bit of an exhilarating factor to everyday life. You’re not entirely sure yet about the actual power and meaning of Flow in this society, but it seems to be connected to humans in some way, so you’re at least a little bit interested in it. If you have to investigate and interact with it in secret, then so be it; you also want answers as to what happened to humanity and how you landed here. Besides, it’s one more thing you two can bond over. Literally partners in crime. The thought makes you smile to yourself.

“You’re kind of bad at this whole criminal thing, you know?” you tell him with a playful grin. “Getting strangers involved, almost being caught by your boss.”

He doesn’t seem too amused. 

“I know, I’m…” his demeanour shifts from annoyed at and with himself to almost shy, and he looks down as he bites the inside of his cheek. “I guess I’ve been distracted lately, is all.”

You hum in response, somewhat intrigued. When his gaze comes back up to meet yours though, eyes filled with yearning, the look he gives you makes your heart skip a beat, and suddenly you’re all too aware of how close you’re standing to each other. You need to wrap this up.

“So is there anything I can do to help you out?” you ask him.

“What? No, you really don’t need to. You’ve already saved my hide so many times,” he’s quick to dismiss your question. “Besides, cooking is one of the few things I’m actually good at, so I got that covered.”

Suddenly he looks like he just thought of something that you could in fact help out with, but he doesn’t want to say. You give his upper arm a soft push with your fist.

“C’mon, out with it,” you encourage him with a playful smile. 

“Well…” His eyes linger for a second where you touched him. “I need to prepare everything, so I can’t be out and about actually inviting everyone to the dinner party.”

He takes out a paper from his pocket and hands it to you. You skim over it, seeing a list of names.

“If you could invite everyone and let me know how many guests will come, I can make sure to cook the right amout.”

“Got it,” you reply with a nod. “I’ll ask around and probably send Auni back to let you know. He told me you’re paying him in cakes for special deliveries. Think you can sneak another baking session in today on top of dinner? On my tab.”

“Sure thing,” he chuckles, then gets serious again. “And hey, I really am sorry. I’ll make it up to you.”

“Reth, it’s okay, really,” you say, and he’s so close and he looks so sad, you want to hold his face so badly. In fact, your hand is already going up, but you pull back midway, fidgeting with the collar of your shirt instead. “Just… be more careful next time, okay?”

“Yeah…” he sighs. “And thank you, for the invites. I owe you. Again.” 

“Yes, you do,” you chuckle. “Maybe I should start charging you with interest.”

He starts patting down his pockets. 

“I don’t have any cash on me at the moment,” he says with a smile, playing along. 

Your answer comes quicker than you can anticipate and you’re unable to stop your words. 

“I was thinking more along the lines of kisses maybe…”

Both of you look at each other a bit shocked.

“Oh. O-oh,” is all he stammers.

Whatever confidence came over you for you to say that, immediately dissipates as Reth turns several shades of pink darker. The tips of his ears look like they might actually catch fire any moment.

“But we can talk about payment later,” you’re quick to add, and clear your throat. “I’ll uhm, get your invites out. You better start on that food.”

“Right. Yes,” he says stiffly, and you both put some space between each other. “Thanks again. And sorry too. And–”

“Reth,” you cut him short again, giving him a reassuring smile. “It’s okay. See you later.”

“B-bye.” 

You exit the backroom, calling for your cat, who walks around the bar to find you, and you make a hasty exit through the back, walking down the stairs to your left. As you pass the river, you consider for a moment jumping into the water to cool down. Maybe that would get your heart to slow down again. You fist your shirt over your chest where you can feel the pounding against your ribs. 

An inquisitive meow from the side gets your attention back, and you look down at your companion, who’s looking up at you confusedly.

“Right. We have a job to do,” you say and go to take out the paper with the list from your pocket, except that it’s been in your hand the whole time, and it’s now crumpled and slightly damp because of how clammy your hands were. You cringe a bit at that, commanding yourself to calm down at once. Geez, get a grip on yourself, you think.

It takes a while to track Auni down after everyone else, given that he’s always out on his mail route or out and about exploring, probably trying to catch some bugs. When you finally find him, you give him the list of people who plan to atttend Ashura’s dinner, and send him to Reth to deliver the news with the promise of getting his sticky hands on more cake. This seems to do the trick, and he happily jogs off with the new list stuffed into a side pocket of his gigantic backpack. You look after him as his figure gets smaller and smaller, wondering how he’s even able to carry all that. His equipment is bigger than himself. 

With a shake of your head, you bring your attention back to your own equipment, and get your bow and arrows ready. Today you’re hunting chapaas; Hassian asked for some meat and fur earlier this week and you haven’t been able to deliver yet. 

— — — 

You get back home relatively late, and when you do, the flag on your mailbox is up. Setting down your haul next to it, you get out several letters, looking for a message from Reth. And lo and behold, there’s one from him, this time properly written and folded into an envelope. 

He says that in the end everything worked out, to which you sigh in relief. Ashura doesn’t suspect a thing apparently, and everyone had a great time. He tells you to meet him at your “private spot” tonight, he has something to give you. 

You look at the time, then down at yourself; you’re looking pretty shabby after hunting for hours on end, kneeling down in mud and such. So you quickly change into clean clothes, wash your face and prepare food for your loyal cat. As she happily munches away, you grab your jacket and leave again. Nights can get pretty chilly here, you’ve learned. 

It doesn’t take long for you to make your way to the inn, given that you’re essentially bee lining for it. Checking that no one’s following you or sees you enter the inn from the back, you quickly take a left and go down the stairs towards the storage room. Reth gave you the key to it, so you unlock the door and enter, quickly closing it behind you. 

When you turn around, you’re met with the cook on the other side of the room, stopping whatever he was doing on the table, and he stands up to come and meet you.

“Hey sweet tooth, thanks for coming,” he greets you. 

“Hey,” you smile up to him but he looks tense. “Is everything okay? I thought you said the dinner party worked out? “

“No, it did. It’s- It’s not that,” he curses under his breath at himself. 

“What is it then?”

Reth sighs, and you can tell he’s trying to find the right words. So you give him a moment to gather his thoughts, waiting patiently.

“You know… I’m not used to asking for help,” he starts explaining. “Even as a kid, I wouldn't, and I didn't expect others to help, either. It was always just me and Tish against the world. And now there’s you.”

His cheeks flush ever so slightly, and you can start to feel yours mirroring his.

“Here you come, busting into my life,” he says with a soft smile, but it quickly vanishes. “And even though I keep messing up… somehow you’re still here. You’re not sick of me yet.”

You want to interject, as that “yet” doesn’t sit well with you, but he doesn’t let you.

“And more than that, you've put yourself on the line for me, more than once. I honestly don't understand why you keep putting up with me but… I really do appreciate everything you've done and how much you've helped me out, and Tish as well. But the cartel… I- I don’t want you to get hurt because of me. And I don’t want to scare you off either.” He lets out a shaky breath. “Whatever is going on between us, I don’t want to lose this. So let me make it up to you.”

He steps aside to show you what’s on the table: a container with your favourite food. 

“And I know this is barely enough for everything–”

“Reth, please stop,” you interrupt him before he can spiral further, your voice soft. “I’ll take the food, thank you. It looks delicious. But you really don’t have to try to make up for any of the, uh, side business stuff. Sure, the dinner didn’t work out, but if you say we just have dinner another day, then that is enough for me.”

You step a little closer, your hand tentatively reaching out for his.

“And you don’t have to worry about scaring me off.” Your voice is nothing more than a whisper now. “I also don’t want to lose what we have. I’m not going anywhere.”

Reth looks down at your hands as he shyly intertwines his fingers with yours, and when his eyes come back up to meet yours, they’re full of something… new. His gaze flickers down to your lips for a second and back up, and you wonder if he can hear your erratic heartbeat. You’re standing so close to each other right now, it wouldn’t take a lot to close the gap.

“That said, though, about that payment I mentioned…” you trail off.

His jaw clenches, and he looks to the side, pulling back away from you ever so slightly.

“Are you sure about this?” he questions rather bitterly. “About me?”

“What do you mean?” you ask. He sighs, eyes cast down at the floor.

“People will talk. They probably already are. With my reputation and all… I strayed from my Path. Most days I’m convinced people don’t even like my soup. I’m nothing more than a scoundrel.”

Your free hand comes up to gingerly hold his chin and turn his face to make him look at you.

“First of all, I don’t care what people say,” you start refuting his arguments. “Maybe I still don’t understand Majiri tradition, but I think you should be free to choose your own path with no expectations, and change it if you find it doesn’t suit you. And I like your soup. Also, I think being a scoundrel is part of your charm. Is that a bad thing?”

He doesn’t reply immediately, and when he does, his voice is so small you almost miss it. 

“You’re too good for me.”

You pull back slightly to fully look at him, and it breaks your heart a little how earnestly he means that. So you let go of his hand and hug his torso instead, burying your face into the crook of his neck.

“I don’t know what happened that makes you think that, but I will try my best to show you how wrong you are. You deserve good things, Reth. Whatever it is you want, you’re allowed to pursue it.”

He hugs you back, tightly, so you place a kiss to the only place you can reach, which is his jawline just below his ear. You feel him tremble, but if it’s from relief, anticipation or something else, you can’t tell.

“Right now what I want is you,” he says after a moment. 

“Then what are you waiting for.”

Reth lets go only enough for you to come back face to face with him, and he doesn’t waste a second to capture your lips with his. At first it’s shy, new, a sequence of soft pecks, testing the waters. When your hands travel up his chest to cup his face, he relaxes a bit more, kissing you more confidently. His hands slip underneath your open jacket, holding onto your waist and pulling you to him. 

His kisses grow more intense, hungrier, and his tongue finds its way to yours. You can’t help the low moan that escapes you when he presses you further into him, and he practically swallows it. 

As he takes a step forward, you take one backwards, then another and another, until your back hits the door, and you’re being squished between the rough wooden surface and Reth’s body trying to get impossibly close to yours. The impact makes you grunt, and he responds with something between a sigh and a growl, moving away from your lips to attack your neck. You welcome the break to take a breather, panting, and you remember something.

“Wait,” you say between breaths, and immediately Reth stops his soft bites and licks on your throat, also out of breath, and worry starts spreading on his face.

“W-what? Is this okay? I–”

Your hand on his face gently covers his mouth to stop him from talking, while with the other you turn the key below the doorknob to lock the door, which you had forgotten to do when you arrived.

“Just don’t want to risk getting interrupted, is all.”

You take a moment to admire his slightly dishevelled form: the bandana is a bit askew, his pupils are blown out, his cheeks and ears a deep pink. You probably don’t look much different, to be honest. He looks at you expectantly, waiting for you to give him permission to continue. 

“Let’s move away from the door, maybe–” you start, and within an instant, strong arms are picking you up under your thighs, carrying you over to the other side of the room and setting you down on the table. 

“Better?” he asks, placing a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“Better,” you reply with a smile.

“You said you’re charging me with lots of interest,” he mumbles into your skin as he starts again where he left off earlier. You can only hum in response. “And I plan on paying back what I owe.” 

You pull back a little to look at him, and the newfound confidence and assertiveness in his eyes and voice send a pleasant tingle down your spine. 

“I’m very much looking forward to it.”

— — —

A/N 2: what? goose being attacked by brainrot over a freckled red-head who seems confident on the outside but is actually riddled with insecurities and does some illegal stuff to keep his family safe? huh, bet no one saw that one coming 🙄 guess i have ONE TYPE, smh.

A/N 3: if this is something you'd like to see more of, feel free to let me know and i'll add palia to my taglist fandoms for you to sign up :D

[iisasarcasticlittleshite]

Prompt wise, how about 10 with the brothers. Like how would they react to an MC that won’t stop stealing there clothes?

I ended up turning these into little scenarios instead of just hcs, hope you don't mind :)

As I'm sure you all know by now, I'll happily add more parts if requested, but I wanted to get this out

Happy reading :D

Lucifer

'Beg pardon, my love, but why are you wearing my shirt?'

He'd caught MC, yet again, on their way about the house, having managed to style themselves into one of his button-ups. Said button up was the latest victim of the human's thievery.

The human beamed "innocently" with hands clasped sweetly, the fabric sitting comfortably against their skin. He doesn't mind that they wear his clothes anymore, the inconvenience of missing a few shirts is worth the boost to his pride whenever his human parades around in his things.

Still, he feels the need to loom over them, catching their chin between his fingers, running his gloved thumb over the fullness of their lower lip.

He revelled in the way their eyes fluttered to his lips, the spark of want that came to life in their eyes had his mind wandering...elsewhere.

'Stop stealing my clothes, my little trouble maker.'

MC nipped playfully at his thumb, letting him feel the warmth of their breath through his glove. 'No. They smell like you! Besides, you love watching me march around in your things, you possessive menace.'

Lucifer chuckled, stealing a kiss from those eager lips. 'You're lucky I love you.'

Mammon

'Yo! Human, the heck d'ya think ye're doin'?!'

MC spun to find him bright red, sputtering, but with eyes trapped entirely on their form, clad in his favourite jacket.

His tongue felt like led, unable to form words, no matter how many times MC does this, he can't help but short circuit every time they do.

He's the Avatar of Greed, he does not usually tolerate being stolen from, but this...they're adorable, perfect, gorgeous, and he suddenly couldn't care less about the designer jacket he paid a small fortune for. The biggest treasure is the human parading around in it.

'I was cold!'

'Ye're sittin' in a nest o' blankets!'

MC grinned, and Mammon knows he's doomed. That look spells disaster for his heart, especially when paired with those glistening eyes.

'They don't smell like you.'

The pout, the tone...he's wrecked. Dropping to his knees and hiding his face in their shoulder, clinging to his own jacket on their body as he greedily sought out the combined scents.

The smell of his cologne, and the smell of them, mixing together to his own senses, it made a part of him purr in delight.

'Ya gotta stop stealin' my clothes.' He grumbled falsely, jealously pawing at the material that dared be closer to them than he was.

'How 'bout no?'

Leviathan

He stopped...just...stopped.

MC sits like a proud cat on the bean bag they brought into his room, wrapped in his jacket and munching on their favourite snack with cheeks puffed like a chipmunk.

The cuteness made his heart feel three sizes too big for his chest, words stalled in his throat and he almost dropped his manga.

MC shuffled down into the seat, snuggling in as they giggled at his expression. 'You good, hun?'

'Tghh, uh...y-yeah!' He squeaked, shoving the door shut behind him.

'C'mere, I finally got through that last section on the game, was waiting for you to get here to move on.'

No, they don't get to be this cute, there's no way! No one could even write a protagonist this cute in any anime or series, they're too perfect, too wonderful, too much too much!

'Hey...you okay?'

They're looking at him now, frowning, worried, still wearing his jacket. He wants to be wrapped around them like that, wants to be that close.

Whether or not that human can read minds, he'll never know, all he knows is their warmth, cuddling close to him suddenly, throwing his arm over their shoulders and settling at his side.

That warmth seeped into him, chasing off the cold grip of envy. He could want for nothing, if they're wrapped up warm in him.

'Y-you...please don't stop stealing my clothes.'

MC giggled, reaching to peck his cheek. 'Never in a million years.'

Part 2 Here

[loremaster]

CHAPTER 0: Stampede on the Amaterasu Express

(fitting that this should be posted on Zilch's birthday! EDIT: it was not in fact fitting because it was not in fact Zilch's birthday. whoever started posting Zilch stuff got me good T_T EDIT AGAIN: It WAS Zilch's birthday - the real one! I was right all along!)

Everything starts out pretty much the same.

A teeny little guy wakes up in a room full of umbrellas and is delighted to learn that his name is Yuma Kokohead. He catches his train at the last minute, but turns out there's an impostor in the room. Uh oh! Who could it be?

Aphex and Pucci use their Quirks Fortes to find out if there's anyone else aboard, and there isn't... but then Pucci hears something. Footsteps. Lots of footsteps, actually. Gaining speed on the Amaterasu Express. Yuma tries to look out a window, but there are none.* Tensions rise.

Aphex wants to head to the control room and stop the train. "So what if we don't know who's out there? I can take 'em!" Zilch disagrees. "You idiot! That's exactly what they want us to think. We're far safer in here. Do you want us to reach our destination alive or not?" Melami sides with Aphex. "This is too suspicious to ignore. I think we should see what the matter is. What if there's someone out there who needs our help? What if... it's a real fashion disaster?" Pucci agrees with Zilch. "If we keep the train running forward, we can wait to confront whatever's out there until the local law enforcement can help us... It's too loud to be any regular person..." Zange remains staunchly neutral. "We wouldn't even be having this discussion if this train had any windows! Damn Amaterasu, trying to show off this pointless automated technology... I bet this whole thing is a trap anyway!"

Meanwhile, Yuma is having an invisible crisis.

And then, from Yuma's perspective:

MYSTERY LABYRINTH TIME!!!!! Yuma explores the train cars with the detectives' belongings here in the ML instead of IRL. After gathering evidence, he is able to deduce that the many footsteps approaching the train are actually not humans, but a stampede of animals, presumably controlled by the real Zilch Alexander. He unmasks the hitman within the Labyrinth and they have a pose-off.

And the true culprit's soul is reaped in dazzling fashion!

But from the other detectives' perspectives...

Zilch literally just drops dead in the middle of an argument.

Melami: "Gasp! Aphex, you killed him!" Aphex: "What the--! I did not!! He fell forward!" Pucci: "...there's no heartbeat... He's... actually dead..." Zange: "That didn't look like heart failure to me." (sending the video footage to his phone)

Now with Aphex's rival out of the way, he, Melami, and Yuma can stop the train and finally see what awaits them outside!

Ohhh yeahhh, that's right. The hitman stole all of Zilch's clothes.

After Zilch strips a corpse and gets his clothes back, they are met at the station by Swank and the Peacekeepers, who are pissed that their boy is dead and also naked. Yakou intervenes as usual, and the whole crew goes to get boba!!!! Yayyyy!!!

*This post was written before I checked a screenshot of the game and realized the dining car DID have windows. Oops. So, either this AU there's no windows, or this is how it goes down instead:

I think even Shinigami could solve this one.

NEXT: PROLOGUE

[vickysaurus]

Something unexpected that I really love about Prehistoric Planet is how it stays in a single period in time and explores it, rather than trying to cover the entire Mesozoic and show the world changing. If you showed an alien the programme with the intro cut out and the title censored, they probably would never even guess it was a show about a distant time in Earth’s past. In just being a wildlife documentary that happens to be set 66 million years ago, it’s showing the Maastrichtian world as a living, full-formed, very real world that existed for an unbelievably long time, rather than a phase in an even longer evolutionary process. Now don’t get me wrong, I love wide sweeps of evolutionary history like Walking With Dinosaurs too, but Prehistoric Planet’s vibes are very different and I never knew I needed them. In fact, I’m really hoping we won’t even see a trace of the meteorite in episode five. Let me just go on a little tangent to really get into why.

This is Trix the T. rex. I saw her in the Naturalis natural history museum. She lived and died 67 million years ago. Now, it is very easy for me to see that date and be filled with a sense of impending disaster. ‘Just before the end’ is a thought that quickly appears. But when you really think about it, that’s ludicrous. Trix lived her life, and then after she died her species continued to thrive for a million years. There’s thrice as much time between her and the Tyrannosauruses who died in the K-Pg extinction as there is between me and the first members of my species! And as for the thousands of years of recorded human history, those are a mere drop in that sea of time. Those years didn’t pass any faster back then than they do now, nor were they any less real. There were just as many moments in any one of those thousand millennia between Trix and the meteorite as there were in the millennium between me and Basil the Bulgar-slayer. If a wizard told you your species and your world would continue to thrive for a million years before eventually most of your clade would get wiped out by a terrible catastrophe, would you see your world as a doomed and temporary one about to go over a precipice? I think I would be delighted to know we have such a vast sea of time left.

This got longer and more philosophical than I expected, but the point is that I love the focus on the Maastrichtian as a diverse, living world, rather than the last age of the Mesozoic. We don’t know whether Prehistoric Planet is set a million, fifty thousand, or nine hundred years before impact, and it doesn’t really matter either. Even though all those dates are, geologically speaking, so close to the end of the Cretaceous we could barely tell the difference between them, they all have more time left than any of the animals can possibly conceive of. None of the animals we see in Prehistoric Planet have ever seen a Stegosaurus, and none of them will die as a consequence of a meteorite striking the Earth.

[sword-dad-fukuzawa]

trigun is fascinated with natural disasters. with wide-sweeping events so far out of humanity's ability to comprehend the scale of the desctruction. vash, the humanoid typhoon. monev the gale. legato, whom the manga calls "the blue wind of death." knives's repeated insistence that he and vash are calamities, his delight in unleashing armageddon, the sodom and gomorrah he pulls on jeneora rock, the fact that he appears in the eye of a sandstorm--the characters of trigun, in and of themselves, are hurricanes.

trigun structures itself around natural disasters. the big fall, when the seed ships crashed onto gunsmoke. the july incident, when a city was leveled. fifth moon, when a hole was punched through one of gunsmoke's satellite moons. in the manga, meryl declares vash to be a human natural disaster; his actions are the work of god, and the damage that he leaves behind just a consequence.

and yet he takes the form of an angel.