#human experience is wondering whats out there

[redtsundere-writes]

sukuna and servant!reader is so good!! looking forward to rescue more of them <33

Eyes On Me | Sukuna Ryomen

king!sukuna ryomen x femservant!reader

Sypnosis: Uraume can't play chess with the king right now, you must step up. Contents: Obsession, pining, kinda fluffy, mentions of blood and body parts. Uraume uses they/them pronouns. Word Count: 2404 words. Author's Note: I love writing this ship. People have been asking me to make this a series. I'll try my best lol I think you can still read them individually, but there's a preferred order.

Beginning. ← Previous |

Sukuna hates humans. It's a fact of life. The sky is blue, roses are red and Sukuna hates the disgusting creatures that humans are. He has so many reasons to hate them that he doesn't even know where to begin. Humans are annoying, weak, clumsy, but most of all, stupid. They make decisions without thinking through the consequences. They prefer to spend their money on temporary pleasures and end up bankrupt by not prioritizing their survival. They worry about unimportant things such as social status, religion, and traditions. Sukuna hates humans, but boy, are they entertaining. 

Sukuna tends to study his servants very carefully. Even though they only clean, cook and obey his orders to a tee, it was fun to watch them interact with each other. He finds it fascinating how the servants gossip in whispers, how the gardeners concentrate to prune the bushes well despite their hands shaking, or how the cooks taste the food several times so that it’s up to their majesty's standards. It was like watching dozens of filthy lab rats in the middle of a social experiment. Although… There was someone special he loved to watch, no matter what they were doing. 

You had finished all the chores for the day and decided to help the cooks prepare dinner because you had nothing better to do. Your muscles were exhausted from having spent all morning cleaning the porcelain sculptures, the large frames of the paintings in the great hall, and the king's jewelry so they could sparkle in all their glory. You had been assigned the task of peeling potatoes, so there you were. Sitting at a table with a small knife, peeling potatoes while listening to the chaos going on in the kitchen. Uraume was busy preparing a special passion fruit tea for the king. The special coming from the water that was inked with human blood. Sometimes you wondered if Uraume had always agreed to cook with humans or was it something they got used to because of Sukuna's orders, but since they never talked about themselves, you never asked. 

“Fuck!” A cook yelled when the frying pan caught fire. 

Your eyes widened at the flashy flare. Uraume put the tea set aside to attend to the emergency. With some ice from their magic hands, they put out the fire in a jiffy, but left the kitchen a mess. They began to berate the cook with smacks in the head and curses for his ineptitude. The cook just apologized over and over again, but that wasn't enough for the head chef. 

“You!” Uraume called. You put your task aside to attend to their orders. “Take the tea to our king and tell him I will be with him when I settle this situation.” You nodded and took the tray carefully to go in search of him. 

After Sukuna gave you permission, you entered the library with the golden tray in your hands. The library was the coziest room in the entire castle. Its high walls were covered with huge bookcases filled with books, maps, and scrolls. There were long desks of works and hundreds of candleholders everywhere to enjoy reading during the evenings. He was sitting in one of the comfortable chairs in front of the game table, a small wooden table with a chessboard on top. The king was surprised to see you there despite having specified Uraume's presence. 

“I didn't ask you to come,” Sukuna said chidingly as you served him tea at a small table next to him. 

“Uraume had to attend to an emergency in the kitchen. They'll be here once everything is under control,” you replied as you set down the fragile cup of blood tea, adorned with small pieces of eyeball floating on the red surface to give it texture. 

Your gaze traveled to the chessboard, it had been a long time since you had seen the king playing. You knew from the other servants that he was a good player and only plays with Uraume or some brave guest. This was no ordinary board. You could see that each piece was handmade and had luxurious detail. The pieces were made of white quartz, the eyes of the horses were rubies and the crowns of the kings were made of jade. It was the most beautiful board game you ever saw. 

“Do you know how to play?” Sukuna asked out of curiosity. 

Being a servant, you surely had not received the same education as he did. Well, almost no one was on his level when it came to education. Sukuna was a master mathematician, a skilled debater and could threaten his enemies in 5 different languages. You hadn't been as lucky. You're good at cleaning, cooking and taking orders, but what else can you do? 

“Yes,” you answered with a smile. 

That answer surprised him quite a bit. Although chess was a game that was rapidly gaining popularity among the middle class, it was not a game for women. It was a game that required intellect, always thinking two moves ahead and knowing how to read your opponent. You didn't look like a girl who could do all that. 

“Sit down,” Sukuna ordered you. 

“I warn you that it may be a short game. It's been a long time since I've played,” you warned him as you sat down. 

Sukuna watched you with great attention. Your eyes scanned the board as if it was the first time you had ever seen one, your hands rested gently on your thighs and you smiled nervously. You may have known the rules of the game, but you didn't know how to play. The king took your word for it. 

“Ladies first,” he asked you to start.

“My pleasure,” you said as your dominant hand moved over the pieces to decide what your first move would be. 

Your father had taught you how to play. He always wanted a son to inherit the family business, but your mother only kept giving birth to women, so he had to resign himself to you. Your mother taught you how to be a lady so you could get married as soon as possible and your father taught you about the business so that your future husband wouldn’t take advantage of the family money. You used to sit in front of the wooden board and talk for hours after dinner. Your father may not have been the wisest or the most astute man, but he had left you a very important lesson: Always look people in the eye to know their true intentions. 

This was one of the few times you came face to face with Sukuna. Because of his title as king and the great difference in height, you were always beneath him, physically and psychologically speaking. You were a simple human, while he was a king with the power to get rid of whomever he wanted with a simple movement of his fingers. Although his presence made you feel vulnerable, you didn't resent him. You had a relatively comfortable life serving him, but sometimes there was a need for you to show him that you were more than a servant. This was a good opportunity to do so. 

Sukuna's eyes were not on you, they were on the board. His gaze denoted boredom. He was waiting patiently for you to make the first move. If you waited a little longer, maybe he would yawn. He overestimated you, you had to use that feeling against him. You moved a pawn to the C4 square, a common move among beginners.

“Finally…” He said in a monotone voice before quickly moving the knight to the F6 square. 

Each of you took turns to move the pieces quietly as time went by. You took your time with each move, while the king only needed to look at the board from time to time to know what to do next. You could take all the time in the world, but he would still eat all your pieces. Even though it didn't seem to be an interesting game, you could at least keep up with him. Sukuna's queen advanced towards yours, standing face to face. One false move and your king was in trouble. 

“Check,” you said as the queen retreated two squares diagonally, leaving her free to begin the attack on the king. 

At that announcement, Sukuna woke up from the trance he was in to concentrate on what he was doing. He smiled with satisfaction as he noticed the change in your body. Your hands had relaxed, your back was straight, and your eyes were glued to his. You knew exactly what you were doing. You didn't need to tell him verbally that you would destroy him at his own game, your eyes told him clearly. It was as if you were dissecting his soul bit by bit until you left him completely naked.

Your hands were interleaved with each turn. You moved quickly as you realized that Sukuna had already noticed your active presence on the board. Sukuna returned the queen to his side. An interesting move. It was wise to know when to back away, but you noticed one thing in his eyes. He had no plan, he just acted based on his understanding of the game. He moved like in real life, using only his killer instincts. 

“Check,” you announced again by moving a knight up. 

“Not so fast,” Sukuna told you before taking the horse that was threatening his king using a queen. You smiled as you saw that his majesty had fallen into the trap. By moving his pieces like that, Sukuna had fully exposed his king. 

“Checkmate,” you announced the end of the game as soon as you moved the white queen close to the black king. And only then, the poor maid defeated the almighty king. 

“Well, well...” Sukuna sighed in awe as he looked at the board with extreme curiosity. He couldn't be mad at you. He had let his guard down. You were playing even before the game started. 

There was someone special he loved to watch, no matter what you were doing. Sukuna would always hyper fixate on you whenever he noticed your presence around him. You could be cleaning, chatting with your companions or eating some dried fruit in the garden, and he would still only notice you as if nothing else in the world existed. You were the most interesting human he had ever seen. Sukuna tried to look for a logical reason for his obsession with you, but he couldn't do it. You looked like a simple being with clear goals, but he was sure you were hiding something behind your perfect facade. 

Someone knocked at the door. Sukuna sighed, he wanted to be alone with you longer, but now was not the time. Uraume entered the room and was surprised to see you sitting with his majesty. Something strange had been going on between the two of you for months. They had even debated the idea of asking the king directly about you, but hadn't worked up the courage to do so.  

“There was an inconvenience in the kitchen. Sorry to keep you waiting, your majesty,” Uraume bowed in apology. 

“Lucky for you, you sent a good replacement,” Sukuna said before smiling at you in satisfaction. 

Uraume instantly understood just by glancing at the board. You had beaten the king, something even they could not easily accomplish. They could tell that he was looking at you like no one else. It wasn't a look of disgust or boredom, it was a curious look. Like that of a child looking at a group of kids playing in the playground, wondering if he could come over to play with them. 

“If you'll excuse me, I have to go,” you said as you got up to give the seat to Uraume. “Good game. It was a pleasure to play against you, my king,” you bowed. 

“Good game,” Sukuna whispered so you could leave the room. 

Sukuna and Uraume started a new game as soon as you returned to the kitchen to peel potatoes. They quickly noticed that something was occupying her majesty's mind. Their white pieces were eating his black pieces easily and his moves were slow compared to previous games. Uraume could tell that the game against you had changed the way he played.

“What do you see in her?” Uraume asked him after a move. 

“Am I too obvious?” Sukuna asked them before getting up from his seat to start prowling around the library to clear his mind. “What do you think of her?” He asked her as he stopped in front of the window to admire the land. The large green lawn stretched all the way to the intimidating entrance of his wonderful castle. 

“She is a dedicated servant and a perfectionist. She does all the chores in a timely manner. She is as good a servant as any other. The real question is: What do you think of her?” Uraume asked as they watched him from their seat. 

“She has potential.” 

“Potential? Potential for what?” Uraume arched their eyebrow at the confusing statement. 

“She has the potential to become a queen,” Sukuna replied confidently. 

Sukuna Ryomen was known among the kingdoms for being an unorthodox king. Not only because he took kingdoms left and right as if it were nothing, but because he has a strange way of ruling his people. He did not care about social classes, behavioral labels or unwritten codes of human coexistence. Everyone was inferior to him regardless of gender, race, or religion. He was the god of this new world and everyone had to obey him, just like that. 

The fact that he wanted to have a queen went far beyond just following the established patterns of classical monarchy. Sukuna must have a reason why he wants to have a queen other than just because, but there was a more important question on the table. 

“Your majesty, you can get any woman you want. You can get a beautiful woman, with more training and presence, why would you settle for a servant?” Uraume asked in confusion. Sukuna smiled. It was a good question. 

“She has something much better than that,” he answered before continuing the game as if nothing happened. Uraume looked down to see that Sukuna had checkmated them.

Author's Note: I poured my poor knowledge on chess for this lol I hope it makes sense.

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Masterlist.

[sunnyswide]

Simon Ghost Riley x Female Civilian Reader

The feeling of falling in love.

He sees hundreds of people throughout his Military career. Murders, drug addicts, sex workers, terrorists, children, women, men, monsters, angels, and the spiral of personality types in the streets of foreign countries. Maybe the job would be more desirable with the perks of traveling the world if it was less dangerous.

So why of all places did he have to fall for someone? Your face in the crowd of many watching the sky light up with colorful firey explosions raining through the stars.

He catches a glimpse of your delicate smile, or maybe not so delicate at the time as you marvel at humanity’s show.

He stares.. longingly, drowning out the noise of cheers and screams. You glance at him too. At least that’s what he wished happened until time began to speed up to reality.

“Simon!”

Price grips his shoulder, breaking him out of his day dreams.

“The object is in AO, stay alert”

“Understood” Simon nodded, trying to focus up.

But how? He looks back, but you were gone.

Deep inside he hoped you stayed gone, but he couldn’t help but look for your face again. Unfortunately and fortunately you disappeared, becoming a ghost in the crowd he'd wish to forget

So why in all places were you here? In his arms?

As he franticly ran through the battlefield, your limp body was tight against his straining chest. Simon was never a man to rely on any higher being, but for the first time in what seemed like decades, he begged.. no prayed for you. A random stranger he merely glimpsed at, a woman with no name or title to him, capturing more than a poor man's heart.

And so the tale as old as time went, a man stricken with Cupid's arrow unable to let go of a woman who lived another side of life. His world is so far from the pleasant life you lived. You cherished your experiences, the people, and the memories as he cherished you.

You slowly healed from the wounds afflicted, your home destroyed and your memory scattered. With nowhere to go, Simon offered you a place, a home closer to his reach.

Small graces and brisk touches filled his head, he was smitten with love, confused, and awkwardly frustrated due to his inability to confront you. And you? Well, you weren't stupid but you were oblivious. The man sheltering you, doting on you, was quite the catch, you couldn't help but feel the same way. But there was no way you'd know the ironic truth.

"I got it Luv"

"Oh no! Its okay I-"

"Hands off, don't be stuffy"

"Nu uh!"

He grabs your hands in his, swallowing your whole mitts in his.

"Dove"

He whispers in your ear, his hard muscles leaning against the small of your back. Your face burns with a red tint, gosh he was so close, you could feel his sigh. You comply and slowly release your grip on the bags, letting him carry all of them in a single hand.

He hums, using his free hand to cup yours, holding it up to his lips before gently kissing the soft skin.

"Thank you. Angel."

He walks to the kitchen, leaving you utterly in shambles wondering if he was flirting or he was being a gentleman as he is a very respectful British.

While Simon had his heart racing hoping maybe that was a step in the right direction, or many steps in the right direction.

Because in his mind he's an awkward flirt, while to everyone else (you especially). DAM BRO GOT U SWEATING *FANS SELF*

[bratzforchris]

Goldfish

Summary: Matt has a chronic illness that the nurses at his local clinic are all too familiar with. The new nurse in town hasn't had a chance to meet him yet, but what happens when she does?

Pairing: Matt x nursefem!reader

Warnings: Mentions of needles and blood, chronic illness, use of medical steroids, flirty nurse!reader (this is all fiction!), Matt is 20/reader is 23, Matt has a service dog!!

Word Count: Just over 2k

A/N: This is lowkey inspired by the experience I had a few days ago with a flirty nurse while I was in the ER (I'm still thinking about him--had me giggling n kicking my feet n shit like I was in a rom com [this is definitely a story time]). ANYWAY, Matt has PFAPA (my chronic illness!) here. It's usually a childhood thing, but some rare cases like myself don't grow out of it. You can read more about it here, if you'd like. Enjoy!!

Matt Sturniolo is all too familiar with his local pediatric emergency room. In fact, he’s been there so many times that the nurses have started to treat him as less of a patient, and more of a friend. “Hey Matt!”, “How’s YouTube going, Matt?”, “I remember you!”,  “I saw you last time!”, and the list went on. Some might ask why he still went there at almost 21, but when you had a chronic illness, it was best to see the people who had been caring for you for years if you could. These nurses had been caring for him at least once a month, ever since he was 12, and were usually quite skilled in how to manage the brunette’s comfort. 

Matt had PFAPA, which left him with high fevers and extremely sore, almost strep like sore throats every month. It was a miserable thing to live, and it really impacted his happiness, especially on days like today when he was having one of the worst flare ups he’d had in a long time and both Nick and Chris were unable to come along with him to the doctor. Luckily for Matt, he had his service dog, Emily, with him, but he still longed for a human companion as well. While some people wondered why he ‘needed’ a service dog, Matt’s disability was invisible. Emily would let him know when his flare ups were starting as well as laying on him to soothe his body aches and chills and helping with his anxiety at doctor visits. 

The nurse tech took him into the back rather quickly, running their usual tests of strep, the flu, and COVID. About 98% of the time, they would all come back negative, but the hospital staff liked to do all they could to make Matt more comfortable. Sure enough, the nurse practitioner stepped in about 30 minutes later, a sad look on her face. 

“How are you feeling, Matt?”

Matt shrugged, grimacing as his throat ached when he swallowed. “‘M not great.” he murmured, petting his pup’s head softly as the anxiety welled in his chest. 

“Well, everything came back negative,” she told, a sad look on her face. “We can test you for mono, though. You have a lot of the symptoms for that. That one is a blood test. We’re also going to give you an IV since you’re dehydrated.”

That sentence alone made him want to cry. Despite the tattoos and piercings he had, Matt hated medical needles. They hurt and they freaked him out. Sensing his anxiety, Emily scooted closer to Matt, whining softly and butting his leg with her head. Matt pet the dog’s head softly, steadying himself to get his breath. “Okay…” he breathed, steadying himself. 

The nurse practitioner patted his leg gently, hurrying out of the room to attend to her other patients. Matt began to panic, his breathing rapidly increasing as tears welled in his eyes. He didn’t want any of this. He just wanted them to tell him what was wrong so he could get some meds, go home, and sleep. Patting the bed he was laying on gently, Emily hopped up, curling into Matt’s side. The pooch rested her head on her owner’s chest, subconsciously working to slow the brunette’s heart rate. 

A few minutes later, another nurse and a lab tech stepped into the small room he was in, holding a tray full of supplies. Matt squeezed his eyes shut tightly at the sight, already dreading the feeling of getting blood drawn. Both healthcare workers were very kind, of course, whispering soft nothings to him as they patted his leg and prepared to draw his blood. They promised him that the procedure would be quick and easy, but those words never mixed well with a chronic illness. 

“Your vein rolled because you’re dehydrated. We’re going to have to draw from your other arm.” the lab tech informed him.

“O…kay.” Matt whispered shakily, trying to get his breath and the feeling in his hand back. 

The brunette knew that it was okay to cry, but that didn’t make it any less embarrassing. He was a grown man, laying here in a kid’s hospital room, trying not to cry while they tried to draw his blood again in his right arm. Unfortunately for Matt, the dehydration he was experiencing from his extremely sore throat caused his vein to roll again.

“Oh sweetheart,” the nurse said sympathetically, patting his leg. “We’re going to give you a minute, okay? Let’s get some water and Gatorade in you before we try again.”

Matt just nodded as he was passed a mini water bottle and a cherry Gatorade. He was hearing their words, but honestly, he didn’t care. All he knew was that he was going to be poked and prodded again, and he didn’t like it. Emily snuggled into his side, whining softly and brushing her sandpaper tongue against her owner’s arm, trying desperately to get Matt to feel better. 

“Alright, honey,” the sweet, older nurse stepped into Matt’s room again, holding a fresh tub of supplies to draw his blood. “Let’s try it in your left hand, okay?”

Because chronic illness never made things easy, the third time was still a failure, leaving Matt with an already bruising hand and tears pricking his eyes. Before he knew it, he was being shoved a packet of goldfish crackers, a popsicle, and more water, being informed that he had to eat before they could try again. The snacks felt like swallowing shrapnel, making the boy cringe every time he had to swallow. 

“Hello, oldest patient of the day!” You cheered, practically walking into Matt’s room on a cloud of glitter. 

Matt jumped in shock, petting his dog’s head to calm his racing heart. “...hi…” he mumbled. 

“They called me in for backup,” You explained, a smile on your face. You absolutely loved nursing, and every day at your job truly felt like a gift. You’d graduated from nursing school last year at the top of your class and had been working in the pediatric emergency room ever since. It wasn’t every day that you had a patient who was 20, but you didn’t mind. “We’re getting this blood draw this time so you can get the fuck out of here,” You slapped a hand over your mouth. “Shit, I’m sorry. I hope you don’t mind if I curse.”

For the first time all day, a small giggled made its way out of Matt’s mouth. “No, I’m okay.”

“I see you have a buddy,” You commented. “That’s nice.”

“She helps my…anxiety.” Matt seemingly chose his words carefully, but they still made you smile. It was clear that the boy had a bond with his pup. 

“I’m gonna look at your tonsils first so we can get you some medicine to help you swallow and then we’ll draw your blood, okay?” You asked, wanting to make sure your patient was comfortable with everything. 

At the mention of a blood draw, Matt’s blue eyes widened with anxiety, his body becoming visibly tense. You had become in tune with this, sliding on a pair of pink latex gloves and patting the soft material of the pajama pants on his knee. 

“Hey, look at me,” You murmured softly, waiting for his response. Once Matt had looked at you, you chugged on. “We’re just chilling, okay? I’m not going to do anything yet.”

Matt nodded, letting out an anxious breath he’d been holding. “Okay.” he whispered. 

You grabbed the flashlight to look in his throat off the wall. “Alright, I’m pretty sure you know the drill,” You chuckled. “Open and say ‘ahhh!’...oh yeah, you’ve got an icky throat. That looks like it hurts. Although…did you have a blue popsicle? You’ve got blue tonsils. It’s rather endearing.”

Matt flushed, his ears going red as he nodded. You smiled softly, throwing away the cap and hanging the flashlight back on the wall. You gave the boy the steroidal liquid the nurse practitioner had drawn up for him to ease the swelling in his throat, a blush creeping onto your face as Matt scrunched his eyes up at the disgusting taste, quite literally making grabby hands for his Gatorade. 

“Fuck, that’s gross.” he whined. 

“At least you got it over with!” You hummed cheerfully, in a small aim to make him feel better. “Unfortunately, it’s time for the bad part, but we can make it a little less shitty if you want? Maybe you could play me some music? Something you like, okay?” 

Matt fiddled with his phone for a moment before landing on Dominic Fike’s latest release. You smiled at the lyrics, releasing this was one of your favorite songs at the moment. You prepped the materials needed to finally get Matt’s blood drawn for the mono test, patting his knee gently in an effort to calm his trembling frame as he rubbed his pup’s head. 

“Hey, can I tell you something?” You whispered shyly, setting him up for the procedure. “You’ve got goldfish in your teeth–it’s really cute.” You giggled, your own cheeks becoming red. 

The brunette whined, breathing deeply as you began to draw his blood. “That’s embarrassing.” he grunted. 

A few deep breaths and small, sad noises later, you had finally gotten the sample needed. “We got it!” You told Matt excitedly, placing a Barney band aid across the site. “All done!”

You bustled around the room, making sure Matt was comfortable, throwing away your supplies, and making notes on your clipboard. You helped the boy drink water and got him (and Emily) a blanket, before taking his samples down to the lab to get checked out. By the time everything was said and done, an hour had passed and Matt was asleep against the small bed when you knocked on his door. 

“Hey sleepyhead,” You giggled, stepping into the room. “Nice nap?” Matt fisted his eyes, nodding as you went over his discharge instructions. You always hated releasing patients with no explanations or answers as to why they felt so bad, but in cases like Matt’s, that wasn’t always possible. Your best bet was to make him as comfortable as possible here. “Do you have any questions?”

The brunette shook his head, finally able to speak now that the steroids were beginning to work their magic on his throat. “No, but thank you. You’ve been the best nurse I’ve had all day…maybe even ever.”

You blushed at the compliment, helping the boy stand since you knew he was already exhausted, dehydrated, and lightheaded from having his blood drawn. “Do you need help getting to your car? I actually just got off.” You murmured shyly, glancing at the clock on the wall. 

Despite Matt’s steadiness on his feet and his grip on Emily’s leash, the blue-eyed boy nodded all the same, a quietly flustered look crossing his face. You smiled yourself, maneuvering Matt out to his car with a firm, yet gentle hand on his lower back. Thankfully, the waiting room had quieted down quite a bit now that it was nearing the evening, so no one questioned or pulled you away from walking Matt out. It was a slow trek with your patient being a bit unsteady on his feet, but you didn’t mind. Matt’s presence made you happy in an odd sort of way; you hated that he wasn’t well and that this would continue to happen for him, but you couldn’t stop your mind from thinking about seeing him again. 

“I um…I hope this isn’t weird, but I would really like to see you again. Maybe another time? When you’re not in pain?” You coughed and chuckled awkwardly, rubbing the back of your neck. 

He smiled as he slid into the driver’s seat, rubbing his aching head that was seemingly getting better just by being around you. “I’d like that,” he offered. “I’d like that a lot, actually.”

Matt didn’t end up leaving his trip to the hospital with many answers beside the usual ‘It’s your chronic illness’, but what he did end up leaving with was your phone number scribbled onto a pink sticky note that he had been given in the parking lot. 

tags ♡: @jake-and-johnnies-slut @chrissfavwh3re @suyqa @chrissturnswife @mbsbaby @herxysc-blog @lovingchrissposts @caffeinatedscorpio @spencereidenthusiast @crazychrisl0v3r @sturnioloxlver @whicked-hazlatwhore @blahbel668 @sturncakez @junnniiieee07 @biggesthat3r @sturniolowhore @patscorner @julesgrl @0strawberrysorbet0 @strombolilovr @matt444nixi @remussbitch @devthepoet1221 @mattyblover07 @loisnotaa @mollyquinnxoxo @graysturns @pepsicolapussy333 @ginswife @emmagirouard @athaliahxoxo @bitchydragonparadise @ilydeaky @soggyslugg169 @m00n-0n-paws @books0fever @stingerayyy2 @sunsetsturniolos @mimi-luvzyu @raysmayhem-72 @faygo-frog @oobleoob @billsslutt @aemrsy

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[phanchester]

VAMPIRE MOON

Just as it was written by @amazingphil with no additional edits

Chapter 1: Lunar Fusion

The moon hung low in the sky, its eerie glow casting long shadows across the abandoned streets of Sunnydale. Oz had finished his show at the Bronze and rather than going back to his dorm he found himself prowling the alleys, his senses heightened by the full moon’s pull. It wasn’t fully out yet but he could feel the primal draw of the wolf within. He could feel the beast within him stirring, yearning to be unleashed. But there was something else tonight, something that set his instincts on edge.

Spike.

The vampire had always been a wild card, unpredictable and dangerous. But there was a magnetism between them, a primal attraction that Oz couldn’t deny. And tonight, under the watchful eye of the moon, that attraction would lead them down a path neither could hve foreseen. 

Oz found him lurking in the shadows, his eyes gleaming with hunger. There was a hunger in those eyes that mirrored Oz’s own, a hunger for power and control.

Without a word, Oz moved closer, his heart pounding in his chest.

“Spike,” Oz breathed, his voice low and husky with desire. “What are you doing here?”

Spike smirked, his fangs glinting in the moonlight. “Just out for a stroll, love. Fancy some company?”

Oz hesitated for a moment, the beast within him urging him to run. He knew Spike could kill him instantly without setting off the government chip nestled in his brain, but there was something about Spike, somethin that drew him in despite the danger. 

With a nod, he stepped closer, his pulse quickening with anticipation

“Sure,” Oz said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Why not?”

They entered a graveyard and Spike started to point to graves of nobles he had killed over 100 years ago.

“That one owed me bloody money”

“He tasted delicious”

“He was hot and also tasted delicious”

Oz couldn’t help but notice Spike was only pointing out the graves of guys he’d killed but this talk of another guy being hot awakened something he had himself too. Oz’d experimented with a few guys but it had been a while since he’d felt that draw, was it the moon, was it Spike’s charisma? Was it both? Something was pulling him towards the 150 year old vampire.

They reached a clearing and the moon got even higher in the sky

“Getting a bit prickly hamster boy?” Spike grinned.

“I have an hour or so left” Oz repleid.

“Shame to ruin those jeans when you rip out of them”

As they turned towards the mauseleoum, Spike shoved Oz hard into the wall and started kissing him. Oz was startled but kissed back but it wasn’t his human side in charge - he had started to change. And with that, as if called by the moon Oz’s transformation into his wolf form had begun

Before he got too hairy, Spike lunged forward, his fangs sinking deep into Oz’s neck. The pain was intense, but so was the pleasure as Oz felt himself being consumed by the darkness. 

But as Spike drank the band members blood, something unexpected happened. Oz felt his body contort and twist, his bones shifting and reshaping themselves into something new and terrible. When Spike finally pulled away, Oz was no longer just a werewolf - he was something more. 

He was a VAMPIRE WOLF, something new, something exciting..

His fur was now a dark shade of midnight black, sleek and shimmering in the moonlight. His eyes shone a fiery gold. His eyes glowed with an otherworldly light, brighter than the moon. And his fangs were longer and sharper than ever before, gleeming with a deadly beauty. 

“What… what have you done to me?” Oz gasped, his voice a mix of fear and wonder. 

Spike grinned, his eyes burning with triumph. 

“I’ve given you what you’ve always wanted, mate. Power. Strength. Immortality…I guess with a furry twist”

Oz howled up to the full moon as his eyes turned crimson red. This new form of evil was consuming him. His still bare back started to split and deep crimson wings sprouted from between his shoulder blades.

“Oh bloody hell what is that” Spike shreiked as Oz’s new wings started to flap

And as the moon shone down upon them, casting it’s eerie light over their twisted forms, Spike and Oz embraced their new existence, bound together by the primal forces that had brought them together.

Before they could share another moment…

Oz took flight.

[tempestgnostic]

i think the greatest and most unfortunate parallel i see in the therian community that i also saw in the trans community is a certain level of identifying with the pain of species dysphoria instead of identifying with what makes you a therian. species dysphoria can fucking suck but it’s not required to be a therian, it’s never been required, it never will be, and even those who know this will still lash out at the idea that some of us find joy in also being human. i could never share my art with the world otherwise. i’m part of this badass species that builds upon technology and preserves knowledge from over a thousand years ago. we have an incredible wealth of culture and experience available to us and that’s fucking magical!!

grieve as much as you need to. grieve the fact that you’ll never quite have the life you want. if you experience this pain, it’s very real, and you need to process it. and at some point, on the other side of grief, you need to let go. let go of wishing for the life you’ll never have, and figure out what you can do with the one you’re living, to bring it more in line with your authentic animal self. don’t take this chance for granted. this body is capable of many wonderful things. i felt the same joy about being trans when i recognized that this experience gives me a unique perspective on the world—and i realized that, had i gone through a different puberty, been raised as the other binary gender, i still would’ve been trans. i would’ve gone on estrogen. i would’ve pushed myself through the black morass of grief, discovering along the way that i’m in charge of becoming who i want to be. i would’ve found joy.

your pain is not all that you are.

[kamiversee]

Poll time! :)

Consider this an official masterlist for my upcoming works!

The F*ck List was a wonderful story to complete & I’m excited to write another sooo, take a look through these & lmk which one you’d like me to focus on next! :3

My Love Note (Choso x f!reader vs Gojo x f!reader)

In which your innocent crush on the cheeky cashier Gojo Satoru slowly swirls into something more complicated as his feelings for you are never clear. Then, in the midst of your complications, there’s your hating best friend Choso Kamo who also beings to act differently toward you.

F*ck The List (TFL Sequel) (the title is subject to possibly change)

A continued tale in which the truth of why you were forced to be a whore comes into the light.

The Better Brother (Guitarist!Choso x f!reader vs Boxer!Sukuna x f!reader)

When a night of drinking with your friends turns into a conversation about your nonexistent sex-life, you say you slept with the most random name to come to mind-- never expecting him to walk through the door moments later. Naturally, things only worsen for you when you eventually learn that this man is connected to your longtime unrequited crush.

Be My Cowboy (Cowboy!Gojo x f!reader)

A love story in which you fall for the infamous cowboy Gojo Satoru whose job was to protect you.

Sex For Business (The “Office” men of JJK x f!reader)

When you’re the epitome of sex-appeal, it’s easy for you to dominate the business world. Or at least, that was until you come across a specific company harder to climb to the top than others. Man after man– you know how to use and seduce them no problem. But for some reason, the men here are a bit more challenging than ones in the past. Especially the man whose position your arrival threatens; Nanami Kento.

Chase The Thrill (Geto x f!reader & Toji x f!reader)

By your senior year of College, you come to the realization that you’ve yet to experience even half of what you wished to within your College experience. This is to blame of your toxic older ex-boyfriend Toji Fushiguro, who was your first and only ever boyfriend that stripped you of all fun you wished to have. So when you decide to go out one night to live it up a little and somehow end up playing seven-minutes in heaven with some hot stranger, you don’t expect the name to show you an entirely new world in the most cliche way imaginable.

Not My Resident (Vampire!JJK Men x f!reader)

A JJK fanfic that takes place in the alternate universe of “Not My Neighbor”-- you knew they were doppelgängers but you didn’t care, they were hot. Plus, their human forms never batted an eyelash at you so, what’s so wrong with letting a few of them inside… of you.

No Strings Attached (Ino Takuma x f!reader)

According to others, fake dating your best friend always leads to a real relationship and eventual heartbreak but, you and Ino swore you two could pull it off with no real feelings involved.

Petals to Thorns (R. Shidou x f!reader & Sae x f!reader)

From young and innocent love to something complicated and ugly, Shidou Ryusei takes you to hell and back just to say those three stupid words to you. Then there’s Itoshi Sae who sweeps you off your feet the very second Shidou fucks up; who would you pick in the end?

Suck or Fuck (Vampire!JJK Men x f!reader)

They don’t call you the best detective around for no reason. While your methods may be a bit… unorthodox, people can’t say they don’t work. Human or Vampire, you always get your job done. So when crime rates in your city skyrocket; murders occurring around you, kidnappings, theft, and blatant Vampire attacks threaten your job– you make it your mission to get to the bottom of things... even if that involves sleeping with your suspects.

After the results of this poll, I’ll narrow it down to a top 5 and do another one since this is quite a long list! The winning fic will be my next focus after I finish all the whatif’s for TFL.

@KAMIVERSEE on tumblr. All Rights Reserved. Do not steal, copy, or translate any of my works.

[natalyarose]

𝐵𝒽𝒶𝓇𝒶𝓃𝒾 𝓌𝑜𝓂𝑒𝓃

🩷 My 'mother in law' is Ashwini Sun in Lahiri, but she always felt super Bharani to me- she had an extremely abusive father, and she just adores her kids and even me. She's a wonderful cook, and soo beautiful! When I first met her I thought she looked so young and vibrant to have a son my partner's age. She went through so much (had really intense childbirth too) and continues to be a nurturing powerhouse for the family, she's just a gem. She's Bharani in galactic center mid-mula ayanamsa 🌌

🩷 My own mama was similar, she was a Bharani Moon- harsh childhood and raised by nuns in an institution (I've noticed this being a theme with Moon in the 10th sometimes). She didn't get that fairytale childhood and she wanted to give that to her babies so much. She was also very beautiful & a great cook. The girls and I used to always say she should go on MasterChef lol. She had me at 42 & my youngest sister at 47- so Bharani, the theme of 'delayed gratification' and the slow moving nature of the elephant yoni 🐘 Sadly she had unhealed demons you could say and there was some darker stuff, but I always recognise how much she gave to us and devoted to us. She bared so much to bring us into this world, rip mum 🤍🩷

Both are also 'exotic' women considering where I'm from, and Venusian Nakshatras relate to rarity and exoticism.

🤍 - I also have a close friend who is Bharani ascendant- gorgeous, 'exotic' by standards of where she lives, adores cooking & her children immensely

🤍my ex roommate had a Bharani placement & willingly handled the cooking for the both of us. I never asked her to or anything, she just loved cooking and sharing her food. She also had a very abusive upbringing.

The feminine strength Bharani exudes astounds me every time I meet a native. They truly go through so much and then often go on to nurture others and go out of their way to give them what they didn't get as a kid.

I'm a D9 Bharani Moon and I do see these themes in myself- I'm not a cook however though lol. I suspect I will be when I'm older though, as D9 activates & unfolds more by means of maturity & self-realisation.

Note: I'm vey anti generalisations since every chart and human being is unique- not every Bharani native will be this way or have these exact experiences depending on other influences and in part free will, but it's definitely a theme that's just wonderful to get to observe

[the-remote-viewers-division]

I have an alternate pale theory…

Consider this like a ‘Pale-AU’ (i.e. I know it is probably not supported by canon, and certainly not supported by some other works like Joshua Jenkins designs, for example… also I haven’t finished reading PJÕL, so maybe my ideas will change after that) but I started thinking about it as a “what-if” situation: If there were to be a direct sequel to Disco Elysium :insert prayer hands:, how could we reconcile the multitude of different Harrys the player could create? What about the fates of other characters? Some change due to our influence, some die. How could a sequel storyline somehow accept all those possible variances? Introducing my almost-certainly not-correct pale theory!TM using a little bit of in-game info, some real-life stuff, and a sprinkle of imagination!

Caution: Many spoilers ahead.

So what is Pale -- just the past?

After you talk to the Phasmid you’re given the impression that humans/people created the pale accidentally (with thinking and memory and ideas and invention?); and after talking to Joyce you learn that some think the pale is “rarified past.” It’s all pretty nebulous, but I think that the pale being a product (or a by-product) of the human mind/memory is close to what could be accepted as the canon origin of the pale:

INSULINDIAN PHASMID - The pale, too, came with you. No one remembers it before you. The cnidarians do not, the radially symmetricals do not. There is an almost unanimous agreement between the birds and the plants that you are going to destroy us all. YOU - Wait, the pale is human made? INSULINDIAN PHASMID - It is a nervous shadow cast into the world by you, eating away at reality. A great, unnatural territory. Its advent coincides with the arrival of the human mind. YOU - I don't have that kind of power. INSULINDIAN PHASMID - You are a violent and irrepressible miracle. The vacuum of cosmos and the stars burning in it are afraid of you. Given enough time you would wipe us all out and replace us with nothing -- just by accident. YOU - ...how? INSULINDIAN PHASMID - We suspect it will be something like the oxygen holocaust that wiped out anaerobic life 2.6 billion years ago -- when organisms first started breathing. Only much worse. CONCEPTUALIZATION - Instead of air, you exhale thoughts. There are no trees that eat thoughts.

JOYCE MESSIER – "Some say the damage stems from extreme sensory deprivation. Others argue that pale somehow *consists* of past information, that's degrading. That it's rarefied past, not rarefied matter." JOYCE MESSIER – "They call it *the blend-over of the self*. The pale does not only suspend the laws of physics, but also the laws of psychology, maybe History, even... The human mind becomes over-radiated by past." YOU – "Who says and who argues?" JOYCE MESSIER – "The logical positivists say -- the dialectical materialists argue."

An effect of the Pale is “entroponetical crosstalk" which you can experience when you use the doorbell intercom outside the whirling and hear the woman speaking from Tricentennial Electrics a long time ago, and additionally the old pale driver also talks to you about how she’s experienced the past in the pale, like the assassination of Dolores Dei. Both are snippets of human past:

KIM KITSURAGI - "It was a recording trapped in the circuitry. From some ancient tenant. This sometimes happens. Shall we conclude here? We have other mysteries to solve." YOU - "I do have one mystery that still needs solving... the radio ghost in the Doomed Commercial Area's electronic doorbell." SOONA, THE PROGRAMMER - "The creepy woman!" She slaps her forehead. "We were wondering about that when we worked there... but I had completely forgotten about it ever since!" SOONA, THE PROGRAMMER - "It must be entroponetic crosstalk. The one you get in radios and long-distance calls... Now it makes sense, with the pale right on the doorstep." KIM KITSURAGI - "Incredible..." the lieutenant murmurs. "This would also explain why we get it on the police radio all the time." YOU - "Entroponetic crosstalk?" SOONA, THE PROGRAMMER - "It's quite common actually. When the signal gets routed through pale, all kinds of irregularities take place. You may hear snippets of someone else's conversation, or the voice of your former lover, or an echo of an event that took place 100 years ago." SOONA, THE PROGRAMMER - "Pale is a shroud of memories and it doesn't really distinguish to whom those memories belong to. You could hear anything."

PALEDRIVER - "You don't need to turn back time. The pale is already churning with it. As the tide of pale rises, so does the past. Someday both will cover the whole world. That's it. That's the story." PALEDRIVER - "They say there is a point -- one that *I* have not crossed -- in the pale superdeep. If you stray too far off course on the U41-A, or in Lomonossov's Land... where every step you take is one step further from home, no matter the direction." PALEDRIVER - "It's a point you cannot come back from. Your mind becomes so radiant with the past -- there is a flip." She flicks the ash from her cigarette. "Instead of writing, it erases memory. Nearing some kind of..." She shakes her head. "Indescribable *finale*." PALEDRIVER - "Like Gabriel Buenguerro in 'Segure-me, Paraíso'..." She nods and smiles, unkindly. "You're the opposite of me then. I remember everything -- even the things I never knew." YOU - "Things you never knew?" PALEDRIVER - "The smell of liquor on Gabriel's lips after the shoot. In the motor park. The roses on the day of Franconegro's coronation. On the grand stairs of Raehl. The smoke from the fowling piece, when Dolores Dei was shot..." PALEDRIVER - "The look on her face -- like an orgasm. The wound in her chest. My hand in my father's hand..." She closes her eyes, her eyelids trembling. "Except I never had a father. And I never shot Her Innocence Dolores Dei." .. PALEDRIVER - "Thought insertion? *Dithering*? The Graad-Katla Magistral?" She savours the lungful. "It's more than dangerous -- it's *sad*. But... at first I had to make a living. Now..."

So you’d think Joyce’s theory checks out, it’s all history/memory---BUT! I did the moralist political quest my first play thru, and when you are trying to contact the airship you also get radio crosstalk from the pale.

KIM KITSURAGI - "It's cold now..." SHIVERS - A slight frisson at the point where your neck meets your spine. Something about the lieutenant's words, directed at you, but not *you*... YOU - "It's really coming down, now that you mention it." KIM KITSURAGI - "Mention what?" YOU - "It's cold, like you just said." KIM KITSURAGI - "I didn't say anything, detective." KIM KITSURAGI - "...someone has been maintaining it. The wiring has been repaired..." HORSEBACK ANTENNA - An uncomfortable silence falls over the connection. KIM KITSURAGI - "... It's been a long winter... Long and cold..." YOU - "Are you going to tell me you didn't say *that*, either?" KIM KITSURAGI - "I promise you, I didn't, even though it certainly *sounds* like me..." The lieutenant seems to wince at the sound of his own voice. YOU - "It must be entroponetic crosstalk. It's the only explanation." NOID - "So your partner's haunting himself. Trying to warn him off his current path, most like." KIM KITSURAGI - "It's eerie, for certain, but also harmless. I just wish I could remember what I was talking about..." ESPRIT DE CORPS - Something here is eating at the lieutenant, as much as he would like to move past it.

You can even hear it if Kim is not with you:

KIM KITSURAGI - "It's cold now..." SHIVERS - A slight frisson at the point where your neck meets your spine. You can *feel* the lieutenant's presence, even though he's nowhere to be found... YOU - "Kim? How did you get on my connection?" NOID - "Whoa, the cop's *own partner* is a radio-spooker. That's some *other core* business right there..." HORSEBACK ANTENNA - ... KIM KITSURAGI - "...someone has been maintaining it. The wiring has been repaired..." YOU - "Kim! Answer me." NOID - "No use, man. Don't think he can hear you." YOU - "I've encountered this before. It's entroponetic crosstalk. This is a piece of the past mixing in with our signal." NOID - "What..." KIM KITSURAGI - "It's been a long winter... Long and cold." NOID - "What have you gotten us into, lawman?" HALF LIGHT - Just *run*. Unplug that headset and get as far away as you can.

YOU - "Kim? How did you get on my connection?" … YOU - "What is he talking about?"’ SOONA, THE PROGRAMMER - "I believe you mean, what *was* he talking about." YOU - "Wait, what are *you* talking about?" KIM KITSURAGI - "It's been a long winter... Long and cold." SOONA, THE PROGRAMMER - "It sounds very much like entroponetic crosstalk. It happens sometimes when sending transmissions across long stretches of pale..."

Except IT'S NOT FROM THE PAST. It is Kim talking from the future, from the fort on the island. Which hasn’t happened yet.

And it can possibly NOT HAPPEN.

You hear Kim say this stuff even if he gets shot and doesn’t come with you to the island.

During gameplay they kind of just go “huh, how strange and spooky...” and don’t really delve into it.

But that completely changes the pale right? It’s not just past, it’s also future, and not just the ONLY future, POSSIBLE future.

So, my theory is that the pale is multiverse colliding: the near pale is the places where these universes begin to overlap, and deep pale is where universes overlap to such a degree they are cancelling themselves out into nothing.

Fungal communication – mycorrhizal network

When Joyce talks to you, she talks about a fungus growing at the edge of the porch collapse. I think this fungus could be acting like a mycorrhizal network, which in our world are an underground networks connecting fungi and plants allowing them to communicate or share information. I think the fungi/spores in Elysium pop up at origin points and thrive along the porch collapse and are allowing the universes to “talk” to each other.

SOONA, THE PROGRAMMER - "I understand..." She closes her eyes. "A theory of the pale where instead of an *outer ocean* it metastasises -- like a cancer or a mould -- erupting in points *inside* the world."

JOYCE MESSIER - "An uproar of matter, darling, *rising* into the pale. Rolling. Evaporating even, a great vision. The area of transition between the world and the pale is called *porch collapse*." JOYCE MESSIER - "Imagine a grey coronal mist, cold vapour, marked by spores of an opportunistic microorganism -- a mould that's adapted to grow at the edge of the unrest. It's..." JOYCE MESSIER - She closes her eyes and breathes out heavily: "... the most *disco* thing you will ever see.

INLAND EMPIRE - The white noise turns into a wall of mist and grey mould, bubbling, sweeping over the city... it tears up buildings and raises sidewalks into the sky. It's Revachol -- at the end of the world. INLAND EMPIRE - ...and it hasn't even really started yet.

Destructive interference – “le gris”

When Lena tells you about the cryptid the Col Do Ma Ma Da Qua, you learn that they are nearly extinct because the scientists played back their own calls and since they are creatures made of sound, the recordings cancelled out the birds. They died because the signals matched and cancelled each other out.

LENA, THE CRYPTOZOOLOGIST'S WIFE - "It's the *Col Do Ma Ma Daqua*," the woman corrects her glasses. "Its name means 'thin whisper of sound'. And that's *precisely* what it is -- self-replicating sound waves, invisible and intangible! The Col Do Ma Ma is very afraid of us, which makes it incredibly difficult to track..." YOU - "Why is the Ma Ma Daqua so afraid of us?" LENA, THE CRYPTOZOOLOGIST'S WIFE - "That is a sad story." She frowns. "A group of university students assisting with the field work, in their enthusiasm for the project and, no doubt, because they were preoccupied with impressing their professors, nearly drove it to *extinction*." YOU - "Extinction?" LENA, THE CRYPTOZOOLOGIST'S WIFE - She nods gravely. "They tried to communicate with it, and had no other means but sound. So they started sending out sound waves at frequencies they thought might match the Ma Ma Daqua's. And what happens when a sound wave meets another sound wave of the same frequency, dear?" YOU - "They cancel each other out."

So... admittedly this doesn’t directly connect to the pale, but it’s illustrating the concept of signals cancelling each other out and, I'm going to say, indicates that this concept is possible in Elysium. The pale is destruction, the overlap between universes causes matter, physics, and even numbers to dissolve. The more complete the overlap, the more complete the destruction.

In conclusion...

According to my theory, the pale is the areas of the world that are affected by these fungal organisms that allow very similar, but different universes to communicate with each other, and since their 'signals' are so alike, they are being cancelled out.

So why did I force myself to jump thru these mental hoops? I think having a multiverse like this would make a sequel more possible since there are so many ways the game can be played. Any possible playthrough would be its own universe. Having a multiverse like this acknowledges and validates any play thru as 'canon,' no player will feel that they somehow played the game “wrong.”  Whatever Harry appearing in the sequel is one of the possible Harrys even if he wasn’t “your” Harry. If a character died, they died only in some of the universes, not all. Whatever world the sequel would take place in is just one of the many possibilities.

Anyway, I thought WAYYYY too much about this and now you can too. Sorry!

[teastainedprose]

Play With Fire, Chapter 3 (Homelander x Reader)

Homelander finds your apartment empty and Homelander is going to be a creep about it. This chapter is a fluff break and an extra one from what I'd originally planned. 1.7k words, No sexual content. Female, plus-sized reader. Slight warning for hints of animal abuse. [AO3 Link, Chapter 1, Chapter 2]

You’re not home. This is new. Homelander frowns as he drops to his usual perch a building away as he surveys the area before scanning through your apartment building. It’s past lunchtime and normally you’d be settled at your desk working away on your PC, but the chair is empty. The laptop is closed and shut down. Where has his little bug scurried off to?

His frown further sours as Homelander scans your usual haunts around your apartment, but he doesn’t catch sight of your plump little figure anywhere. He blinks, reorienting his x-ray vision back to your apartment for another glance before his eyes snag on the whiteboard above your desk. It’s a weekly planner where he’s often seen notes of chores, appointments, or what meals you plan to have quickly scribbled on it. It’s Monday and on the planner is scribbled ‘FIRST DAY’. 

He puzzles over that before it hits him. A new job, that must be it! He’s so clever. Homelander has certainly seen you scroll job postings and even caught you coming home from an interview in the cutest little businesswoman get-up. So fetching, he could have eaten you right up.

Now what sort of new job did a worker bee like you get? Something to research later, Homelander mentally notes as he glides quietly down to your balcony. There’s a better use of his time right now. You’ll be out for a few more hours yet, of this he’s certain. First day and all. Better make a good impression, little bug. Homelander chuckles to himself at the thought as he peeks into your apartment.

Today is the perfect opportunity to indulge, and Homelander has never been one to hold back.

The balcony door isn’t locked and opens quietly under his hand as Homelander smiles to himself, stepping inside. He already knows the layout, walking briskly across the wooden floor as he takes everything in from this new perspective. Being inside, instead of a silent observer of your apartment from above is a new experience for him. Now he gets to experience your world in truth. Homelander takes everything in with a new eye as he walks about, pausing to straighten a photograph or trace his fingers across the spines of your books. You’ve built a cozy little den here. It’s nothing compared to his opulent penthouse, but it reflects a creature such as yourself well enough. None of it is to Homelander’s taste, but he won’t hold that against you. The trinkets and baubles you’ve decorated your nest suit you and he approves of that fact.

Homelander pauses at the couch, plucking up the throw blanket discarded there. He’s seen you snuggled up in this very blanket many a night, tucked in with a book or watching your little shows. He brings the plush fabric to his nose, inhaling deeply. Homelander closes his eyes, savoring the scent there. Your scent. He hasn’t smelled you before, not really. The elevator encounter had been so brief and surprising that Homelander never registered what you’d smelled like at that moment. It had been all anger and stress radiating off you at the time.

He inhales again, breathing deeply with the blanket still held against his face. There’s the citrus scent of fabric softener, but also something undeniably human and undeniably you. Homelander finds that he likes it very much. A moan escapes him as Homelander presses the blanket harder to his nose as if he could imprint the smell of you in his senses. Idly, he wonders if you’d smell the same when he buries his nose in the space between your neck and rounded shoulder. Soft and warm and sweet like the hint of you on this blanket? Homelander sighs at the thought, the longing making his cock jump as he straightens. 

Reluctantly, he drops the blanket back onto the couch as his boots take him deeper into your home towards the bedroom. The door is shut, which Homelander finds curious. Normally, it stands open as he’s watched you wander from bedroom to living room to kitchen and back again while your mind keeps you elsewhere as you putter about doing whatever little bugs like you do. He doesn’t pause as Homelander opens the door, confidently stepping into your bedroom with the eagerness of a child given free rein in a toy store. Homelander expects to paw through your dresser and give the toys he’s seen you use on yourself a thorough inspection.

What he doesn’t expect is the sudden attack from a black blur pouncing onto his foot with a delighted chirrup. Homelander drops his gaze, watching in a detached way as the kitten tries to dig its claws into his boot while kicking back feet furiously. He feels none of it, of course. He doubts even a mere mud person would feel anything from such a pathetic assault, yet the kitten is determined. The little creature squirms about, bottom over front briefly before it twists and promptly scampers off in a confusion of fur.

Homelander frowns. When the fuck did you get a cat? He should have noticed such a creature despite its diminutive size. The little thing is barely a mote of soot as it scrambles under the bed, green eyes wild and wide. The creature pauses, making a sound Homelander would call an undignified squeak ill-suited for a predator before it rushes forward again. His lip twitches, annoyance settling over Homelander at this animal disturbing his tour of your apartment. 

Still, he makes no move toward the kitten as it stalks around behind him to inspect his cape. Homelander turns and the cape goes with him, fabric fluttering in such a tantalizing way that no kitten can resist. The little beast pounces or attempts to.

The frown on Homelander’s lips tugs further down now that he’s eye to eye with the green-eyed imp as in an instant he snatched it up to keep it off his cape. Homelander has never been one to interact with animals often, let alone young ones. The most would have been with such animals sulking away from him in the bad room, hissing and spitting while a doctor looked on behind bulletproof heat vision-resistant glass. Back then he’d been instructed to take care of the creatures to show how much he’d learned of control with his powers, but he can’t do that to this fluffy shadow.

A small purr emanating from the kitten draws Homelander from his memory as he blinks. His eyes refocus on the animal who now is trying to gnaw at one of his fingers through his glove eagerly as it thrums away. Poor thing has no idea who it’s facing. “Charming,” He mumbles before shutting the bedroom door behind him as Homelands steps into the room proper. He gingerly places the squirming animal onto the bed. 

Homelander casts about the bedroom with fresher eyes, taking in a plastic mat with food and a water dish atop it. He doesn’t even need to sniff the air to discern the faint aroma of ammonia and cat litter coming from the open bathroom door. The little beast has been properly set up in your bedroom. A new acquisition. The creature is yours and confined here with purpose, so he can’t risk it suspiciously going missing. At least not yet. A cracked window later down the line will fix this little problem. There’s no need for you to house this extra distraction. Not when he’s so close to getting his claws into you. Homelander smiles to himself.

“Your days are numbered.” He points out, even going so far as to waggle a finger at the black kitten as it rolls about atop the bed. 

In reply, the kitten promptly drops onto its rump atop the comforter and sticks a leg out. This it began washing intently. There’s a slight charm to such a fragile thing being oblivious to the danger present. Homelander cocks his head, watching the animal a beat longer before a sound catches his interest.

There’s the unmistakable rattle of keys too close that takes Homelander by surprise, too lost in his thoughts to notice the approach of footsteps down the apartment hallway. Your footsteps. He’s instantly on high alert, quietly opening the bedroom door and closing it behind him to not let the little beast escape and alert you of something amiss. He waits a beat, eyes on the door as he watches you on the other side while you fumble with the keys. The lock sticks as he’s observed and you never seem to remember to bring it up to the landlord. Forgetful little bug.

Homelander’s form is a patriotic blur as he rushes right across the room, to the balcony, to yank the door open, and dart out to the open sky in a woosh of air. It all happens in a blink as you click the key into place and the lock slides free of the deadbolt.

You pause as you open your apartment door, a slight frown on your face. Something like a breeze seems to have disrupted your apartment as a tapestry on the wall flutters back to rest. You shake your head as a glance about shows nothing amiss. All is well and now you’re smiling to yourself. Your first day at your new job has been a success! 

Dropping your purse on the kitchen counter, your feet are quick as you move to your bedroom door to yank it open. There sits your stray kitten you’d taken in only the other day. He’s mid-lick while grooming his leg. You grin wide, quick to cross the room to scoop the bundle of fur up into your arms. 

“Adrien, did you miss me?” You coo to him, burying your face into his fur as Adrien purrs up a storm. Indeed, he did. You laugh at his enthusiasm as Adrien promptly starts to lick your cheek as if you’re the one in need of a bath. Your smile doesn’t falter as you drop onto the bed before gently laying down to let him settle beside you. 

“It’s nice to be back doing something, you know?” You confide in him. “This charity work is doing wonders to soothe my soul.” Being a kitten, Adrien’s only response is to purr as he curls himself up as close as he can get to your neck.

High above your apartment, Homelander lets himself linger a moment longer. Charity work? Interesting. He watches still, taking in your smile as you cuddle that obnoxious ball of soot. He rolls his eyes, a huff escaping him before moving on.

[manonsmanicmind]

This is a compilation of highlights from a panel held at the National Museum of the Mighty Eighth Air Force with Kirk Saduski (executive and producer at Playtone), Donald L. Miller (author of Masters of the Air), and Nate Mann (you know who he is 😌). The whole discussion is very insightful and really fun to watch, especially because Don knew Rosie very well, so I highly recommend that you watch it in its entirety. You can watch it here. There's a summary below if you don't want to watch the compilation 😉

Don on Rosie and Nate: “I’ve never met a more impressive human being in my life… his poise, his coolness, his composure.” He thinks Nate “played [Rosie] to a T.” 

Nate on the cast getting to know each other and the friendships formed: “A mission like [Münster]… took probably three weeks in a replica cockpit… all the while, Josh Bolt, my co-pilot is sitting right next to me… this was going on for a year… I was just texting him today… that kind of friendship is really the foundation of something like this… because they’re really up there for one another.”

Don on the show: “What makes the film for me is what Kirk talked about… the attention to detail is incredible and the dedication on the part of the actors, they jumped into these roles… I never saw a group of actors so emphatically committed to the project as these guys were; it was really incredible.”

Don on Rosie and Nate: “Rosie was [the] kind of guy who walks into a room and commands the room.” To Nate: “I thought you did that brilliantly, in an understated way. It would have been so easy to overstate that.” —> Nate: *nods vigorously and mouths 'thank you'* 😊🙏

Kirk to Nate: “You’re at the beginning of what we know is going to be a brilliant career, Nate.” —> Nate: *embarrassed* 🤭🙈🙉🙊🫣

Nate on how playing Rosie affected his life: “Things stick around… It’s always a good sign when you keep coming up with questions you might ask of your character. I would love to just sit down and talk to [Rosie] about jazz… I still feel this curiosity about him.”

Nate on how the incorporation of Rosie’s love for music was helpful: “When I first encountered Rosie, the thing you’re struck by is the magnitude of what he went through and what he chose to do in spite of what he went through, and that warrior-spirit... juxtaposed with this incredible warmth and this grace, and that’s where the music lives for me... He had this sense of trying to bring a buoyancy into others’ experiences, and I think he did with his crew. That balance there, between that steel-headed courage and his effortless warmth with others, was kind of where I tried to pivot.”

During the pandemic, Nate found a letter from his grandfather on his father’s side: it was from 1941 and mentioned how “unhappy he was.” 

The letter said: “I just feel this frustration… this sense of wanting to do something with my life, this sense of responsibility, this sense of responsibility to you, to my parents, to my country, and to this society that gives me, a jew, a chance to live.” 

Nate thought of that letter when auditioning for MotA because “that personal sense of duty, for Rosie, was so pivotal to his inspiration and helping him fight.” He further said that “getting to explore that connection to [his] grandfather… it’s one of those unexpected great wonders of getting to do the work that [they] get to do.”

Nate on what stands out with this project: “This is unique in that, feeling connected to this history and being able to be part of sharing it with you guys and helping to educate the public on these men, on WW2, on that sacrifice, brings a whole other dimension of meaning to our work.”

The rest of the video is made up of clips of Nate being an adorable, sweet, thoughtful, and supportive human being 🥰

[sheburnedlikeabride]

10 SPIRITUAL PLAGUES OF GENOCIDAL ZIONISM by Nomy Lamm, read at the liberation seders at various university encampments for Gaza, Pesach 5784

"The ten plagues of biblical times were material plagues that targeted the oppressors who held the Israelites captive. As American Jews, we have been conscripted into the role of complicity with those, oppressing, murdering, and destroying a people and their history. To accept this role is to sacrifice our own divinity.

There are kabbalists who have mapped the ten biblical plagues onto the ten sephirot (faces of the divine), starting at the bottom of the tree of life and working upward. I used the same method to map out 10 spiritual plagues that befall those who benefit from and support the occupation of Palestine.

As you read these, ask yourself which of these plagues have impacted you? Consider what you may have lost, and what it might take to repair it. The antidote to each plague is held in the energy of the sephira it is mapped onto. Feel welcome to perform the action of connecting with each divine portal as we read, or come back to it at another time."

Loss of Foundational Connection to Truth ~ malchut, shechinah, the physical world

This plague separates us from our foundational truths as inhabitants of this planet. Where do we belong? What is home? How do we ground into connection with the earth and what does it mean to do so?

(anoint your feet and feel the ground)

2. Loss of Ability to Trust our Dreams ~ yesod, portal This plague impacts our ability to dream as a Jewish people. The level of violence that we are witnessing and being asked to be complicit in requires us to separate from the messages of our subconscious and the magic of our dreams.

(anoint your lower belly and feel your aliveness)

3. Loss of Perspective ~ hod, pacing This plague impacts our ability to have a clear perspective on what has happened, what we want, and where we are going. We become split, unclear, and difficult to understand or relate to. Our perspective comes not from our own sense of reality, but from a disembodied dictate.

(anoint your hips and feel your stability)

4. Loss of Allies ~ netzach, power This is the plague of isolation, where we make true our greatest fears, by assuming that we are somehow uniquely positioned as victims, and that any actions we take out of fear are justified. To the rest of the world, we appear terrifying and dangerous.

(anoint your knees and feel your momentum)

5. Loss of Humanity ~ tiferet, beauty With this plague, we lose our place in the human family, the interconnection and common destiny that we all share as inhabitants of this planet. When we attempt to place ourselves outside of and above others, we sacrifice our own humanity.

(anoint your heart/solar plexus and feel your tenderness)

6. Loss of Hope ~ gevurah, boundary This is the plague of despair. It crumbles our belief in the possibility of transformation, severing connection with a loving god, sacrificing our faith to a punishing, war-mongering supernatural dictator.

(anoint your shoulders and feel your edges)

7. Loss of Empathy ~ chesed, opening With this plague, we lose our ability to feel anything for those who are harmed, whether by our own actions or by others. We find ways to blame people for their misfortunes, and assume such things will never befall us if we stay strong and on top.

(anoint your palms and feel your openness)

8. Loss of Clarity ~ binah, understanding This plague impacts our ability to make sense of complex sensory input and to know ourselves as a part of the world, operating by the same laws of the universe as every other sacred fragment.

(anoint your ears and feel your sharpness)

9. Loss of Wonder ~ chochmah, wisdom This plague annihilates our ability to experience the world with openness and wonder, to appreciate the wisdom of child mind, and to merge with the infinite.

(anoint your forehead and the back of your head and feel your magic)

10. Soul Loss ~ keter, source Who even are we? Those who have experienced all these plagues without consciously unwinding them are lost to themselves. Only when we experience this ultimate and final plague is it possible to commit the gut wrenching atrocities we witness at the hands of Zionist soldiers.

(anoint the top of your head, place your hand on your head and feel the blessings pour through you, connecting you back down to your roots, to the earth)

[altocat]

I would say Sephiroth had to be heavily conditioned for Shinra to have him in line as long as they did. He would have been their biggest threat otherwise.

In Dirge of Cerberus, even the Deepground soldiers are aware of what they are and where they came from. They all know they were mistreated and experimented on and pushed to their limits as humans and why it was that way for them. And in response, they are all rebellious against Shinra and hateful. Or else they’re grieved over what they suffered, like Shelke.

All of Sephiroth’s past is a secret. He apparently has no limits to his strengths like an ordinary human and is able to withstand extreme damage without relying on endless doses of mako like the Deepground soldiers. He doesn’t degrade like normal Shinra soldiers either. He’s the world’s strongest warrior and doesn’t know why other than he’s been modified.

Shinra was smart enough to hide the truth and brainwash him to believe that he was with the right company, even if what they did upset him. He had no where else to go.

It’s no wonder he completely snapped at Nibelheim and turned on the world. Knowing what you were and why you were abused would have made anyone hateful, but discovering it all at once after being kept in the dark and thinking your life had been purposeful would have destroyed the mind.

On top of that, losing all of your potential family and realizing you weren’t human because your mother was deemed a monster by mankind…Sephiroth is understandably unstable when he leaves the library.

Conditioning and lies kept him from lashing out for a long time.

Based on all the evidence we've seen, it's extremely likely Sephiroth grew up in completely controlled conditions and was molded at an early age to view himself completely as a prop for Shinra. It's part of the reason why he pushes himself so hard, despite growing a sense of disdain for Shinra as he gets older. Despite having growing doubts and instances of rebellion, he still remains loyal to them. It's probable that he felt he really had no other purpose beyond what he could provide for Shinra. And what's more, Shinra was capitalizing on his sensitivity regarding his missing family. They ARE the only family Sephiroth has ever really known, the only reference in which he frames himself.

Sephiroth has pretty much always struggled with his identity. He's not really sure who or what he is. I theorize that he latches onto others so strongly because they help encompass a sense of self--he can come out of his comfort zone with them, express himself in ways he simply can't on his own. He's not treated like a weapon or an experiment. He's finally a person. That's why he deteriorates upon losing them, it's like an actual core of his identity is removed.

Sephiroth was always due for a breakdown given his story, trauma, and genetic heritage. But Shinra kept pushing to make it increasingly worse. They literally created a monster.

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

HAPPY APRIL 1st, i wrote a fic about the suez canal fiasco bc it's still the funniest thing that's ever happened. synopsis is "grumpy gods from different mythologies argue over whose job it is to unstick the goddamn boat"

[sciderman]

I swear I have read your big post regarding Peter Parker's neurodivergence and why it is best to avoid labelling him, but he definitely has a weird brain

Can't find it and feel kinda sad about it cuz I deeply related to it

i know exactly which post you're talking about and i can't find it either! i've raked through my archive, and it's just - nowhere to be seen. i think tumblr eated it (it happens.)

really, tumblr's search functionality is so so useless, i don't know what to tell you. there are plenty of keywords i can search to find it that post, but the search functionality actually just does not work!

undiagnosed audhd-addled peter parker, my darling, my light, my life, my everything.

i think peter parker's such an interesting creature to write, because a lot of people will point to a certain behaviour about him and say "this is an autistic thing, right?" but a lot of those behaviours are actually, in my head, tied to certain traumas in peter's life too.

people say "oh, the food thing, peter's a picky eater because he's autistic" and yes, absolutely. but also it's tied to his trauma with his parents.

peter gets overstimulated, and yes, it's an autism thing, but also he was bitten by a radioactive spider and his senses are dialled to 11.

it's a similar case i've found for myself, too – where a lot of friends i have kind of diagnose me because i have autistic traits, but actually - i'm hesitant to claim the label or pursue diagnosis because, actually, i know where these certain behaviours come from, and they come from certain traumas. there are events i can pinpoint in my life and say "yep. that's where this behaviour comes from."

so - i think there's a lot of overlap between trauma and autistic traits. the brain is very complex! i think the reason for that overlap is maybe as simple as the fact that people with autism and people with trauma are both doing the same thing - developing behaviours to protect themselves or soothe themselves. so - i think it's nice to be able to see a character like peter parker, who may or may not be autistic, but recognise behaviours in him and see yourself in him.

people who go undiagnosed for whatever reason - people who are really good at masking - so good, in fact, that they have no idea they might be on the spectrum - everyone and anyone at all can look at peter parker and recognise themselves. because i think we discredit the thought that every single brain does the same thing! develops certain behaviours in order to survive. every brain has that same software - we've just all been faced with different hardships that we need to overcome, and that's were all the differences come in.

autism is a spectrum, i guess - everyone falls into it to some degree. and i think events in your life probably push you along on it. but i don't know, i didn't study brain science. probably what i'm saying is very stupid and uninformed. of course there's brain chemistry involved. but i know people in my life living with autism and certain events in their life have exacerbated certain behaviours or made coping with it a lot more difficult. so maybe trauma is a catalyst.

[squishosaur]

hey man. i'm just saying. why would we put inexperienced teenagers with over-inflated egos and obvious emotional issues into combat classes and make them claw their way to the top of their dorms and expect things to just run smoothly. who actually thought this

[themthistles]

i think that while micro labels can seem useful and affirming ultimately they're isolating and kind of an obstacle to your understanding of self. that's because you can never find a word specific enough. there will never be a label or two labels or even ten, twenty of them to perfectly capture and describe all of your thoughts, feelings, experiences, preferences, needs, interests, identities, etc. because you learn more and more about yourself every day and then you change and your wants and needs change with you. having to hop between labels, fearing that you don't 'fit' into a label anymore (both in your own and others eyes), worrying how soon your current label will wear out, questioning if you'll ever fully fit a single one. all that causes a lot of uncertainty and anxiety which could be avoided by just picking a more general thing and molding it according to what it means to YOU. because words will always mean different things to different people, you will never be understood immediately and maybe never completely by anyone but yourself and that's fine