#not everyone has the power to be able to write and create and the fact that you are or are trying to? baby i’m making you a medal!! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bredstick · 9 months

Note

Hello! I hope you are having a good day. This is the first time I'm making a request so if I write stupid things, please turn down my request. Male!reader can see curses even though he has no cursed energy. Although he is very kind and gentle looking, curses are running away from him because of the energy he radiates. He is descended from a clan that was destroyed by the Sukuna in history. The general characteristics of those coming from this clan are that although they are physically weak, they can destroy even the strongest curses with a single touch. Also, the men of this clan appear feminine in appearance and can be mistaken for a woman from afar. And the jujutsu sorcerers are unaware of the existence of any of this clan because they think they have all been destroyed. Also a member of this clan can be easily identified from their physical characteristics. So what is the reaction of Gojo, Nanami, Geto, Toji, and Sukuna when the reader is able to heal curses that have been transformed from human into curses and destroy the bad curses without doing anything, even though he has no cursed energy at all?

Sorry if it's too long and complicated English is not my first language. Thank you!

JJK men find out you're a descendant from an extinct clan (male reader!)

Reactions from Gojo, Nanami, Geto, Toji, Sukuna

Gojo Satoru

▪︎ He didn't even know about the clan and its users until other people spoke up about you, how you were different from the others- already speculating you have connections to the clan.

▪︎ He was curious on who you were, since that's the first time he'd heard of you, so he arranged a group mission with you involved (principal was confused, why did the strongest need a companion?)

▪︎ First look at you he thought you were a woman until you spoke up on the mission, allerting him of certain dangers across the curse filled field. He was surprised, but it didn't really matter. He just wanted to see the powers you behold.

▪︎ Turns out the enemy was bigger than he thought, and wanted you to step back from it, considering your body was quite frail and you seemed weak to him- he didn't know what to do when the curse was moving in the speed of light towards you.

▪︎ He was just about to teleport you away, but you sensed a curse approaching you, and as a reflex you immediately put your hand up and touched it without seeing the said curse. You could feel it, not see it.

▪︎ Just as you touched it, it exploded without a second thought. You and Gojo just stood there in complete silence, Gojo's lips slowly forming a grin. You might become someone on his level.

"So, mystery boy, what's your name?"

Kento Nanami

▪︎ Didn't really care when he saw you around until he was on a mission with you, not even knowing you're the one everyone's been talking about

▪︎ "I'll take care of this" thinking you're still a newbie and don't know how to use your technique because he didn't sense any cursed energy within you

▪︎ TAKEN ABACK by the way you destroyed the higher rank curse so quickly- needed to register the fact that such a frail person could behold such power (he's totally not jealous)

▪︎ Is even more taken aback when you heal yourself, thinking that he's seeing things

▪︎ "So..... you've mastered your cursed technique I see.." he says after awkwardly standing next to you for who knows how long

(you're on the villain's side on these)

Suguru Geto

▪︎ He wasn't paying attention to you, thinking you were just a boring sorcerer with no power to overturn the world to what he wants to create- he did question your gender though lol

▪︎ Not until a fight with jujutsu sorcerers (including gojo's presence) have you really proved yourself worthy of his praise

▪︎ He was oh so so glad you were on his side when he saw your healing abilities- seeing Gojo's face drop in realization on who's clan you belonged to has made him thrilled

▪︎ "how about we rule the world together?" he said with that smirk of his;)

Toji Fushiguro

▪︎ "uhh.. what are you exactly?" would totally be his first words while meeting you

▪︎ he wasn't even listening to you until you mentioned your clan, which he heard of from the zen'in clan and how overpowered your clan compared to his was- which had a positive effect on him since he hated his own clan. The murmurs of "I'm glad the clan got wiped out years ago" was coursing through his mind while he snickered, and took on your offer of getting together for the destruction of the zen'in clan.

▪︎ When he saw your abilities and even saw that you and him both don't have cursed energy was a big win for him, thinking of treating you to a nice dinner after you're done with the killing (let's hope he can afford it)

▪︎ "I've been waiting for this" he says, slashing the clan's throats.

(here you're on the good side again)

Ryomen Sukuna

▪︎ Your abilities being shown to him made him go back to the good old days when he was slaughtering your kind to bits, giving him ptsd from you just showing him one of the techniques

▪︎ "How the hell did your kind come back?? I killed all of you" he says in the most disrespectful tone ever, making you rage

▪︎ he underestimates your power, forgetting how troublesome your clan was to kill- perhaps you were even stronger than them, making him wonder who taught you to perfect the techniques and how he could let someone slip away from his brutal slaughter.

▪︎ when he gets seriously injured, he curses under his breath and goes back into hiding in itadori's body (he simply cannot be asked to deal with your kind again)

▪︎ "That damn brat... I just need to consume all of the fingers so I can beat the shita outta him"

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu gojo #jujutsu geto #jujutsu toji #gojo satoru x male reader #suguru geto x male reader #geto x male reader #gojo x male reader #toji x male reader #sukuna x male reader #nanami x male reader #toji fushiguro x male reader #nanami kento x male reader #sukuna ryomen x male reader #anime

2K notes · View notes

justawritterwithideas · 1 year

Text

Boy Wonder and the Rockstar | s.r

✩ next part ✩

summary: Spencer and Y/N meet in college after a book search, creating a friendship where opposites attract. But Spencer has to move across the country to pursue his happiness and completely loses contact with Y/N. What if fate decides it's time to meet after 15 years and with a crazy stalker in between? Spencer won't lose to fate again and will do anything in his power to protect Y/N.

warnings: mentions of death, alcohol, drugs, strong vocabulary, as well as talk of heartbreak, disappointment and arguments. It also contains content regarding CM season 13, so it clearly contains spoilers. this is a spencer reid x famous!reader story.

this will be a small series of chapters so here are the general precautions of the series, each chapter will have its own precautions. !!!

words: 3,909 words.

a/n: hey! here alme with a little series i've been planning for a couple of weeks now. as you may know, i've been talking about the spencer reid x famous!reader relationship but as hayley williams, so i decided to set myself the challenge and write a little series called "boy wonder and the rockstar", so i hope you like it. i haven't planned how many chapters it will have yet but i don't want to make it too long, and also patience with each chapter. so, I don't want to make it longer and I'll leave you the first chapter. thank you. ♡

𝟎.𝟏: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐲 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐮𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐠𝐫𝐮𝐦𝐩𝐲.

Spencer always lived under the stigma of being a child genius. His I.Q. was 187, he could read 20,000 words per minute and had an eidetic memory.

Everyone around him told him what to do, from his mother, to his "friends," to his teachers, to his neighbors.

"Hey Spencer, with that brain of yours you could make it in the government" "Spencer you could be part of NASA" "Spencer you could be a mathematical genius like Einstein!" "Spencer you're going to get into the CIA!"

"And where are you going to go to college? Because you know Harvard is already a lock for you" "I bet you'll go to YALE, that's where all the smart ones go" "Princeton is an excellent choice for you!" "MIT could open a lot of doors for you"

Spencer this, Spencer that.

But no one really thought about what Spencer wanted. Maybe he wanted to be a magician and make children happy with his tricks. Maybe he wanted to be a trapeze artist, or a fireman, or an astronaut, or just an ice cream man.

All these expectations of Spencer reached a point where he didn't even know what he wanted in life. He lived under the shadow of the expectations and visions people had placed on him, and he didn't want to let them down. He was just a kid, a kid scared of adult life who had to impose himself because others imposed it on him.

That's how his brain made him skip grades, have to enter high school at age 12, and have to suffer a lot of abuse from the grown-ups for just being a boy genius.

Spencer sometimes wished he could make his brain disappear and have a normal one. Then he could have normal friends, go to a normal school, have a relationship, experience the problems people his age have, and be able to feel the phases of adolescence like any other kid.

But things were not like that.

He had to live the life he had been dealt, with his genius brain and the damn adult problems at 13.

CalTech was a new life he had to accept, but it wasn't as bad as the one he had before. His mind was kept busy for a long period.

He was forced to grow up around books full of equations, chemical elements and mathematical problems, managing at 16 to get his first college degree, which was Mathematics, and the following year to get a PhD in it. But he did not dislike this.

But as they say it is never enough, he kept on studying until he was 21. Thanks to this, he became a doctor of two more degrees, Chemistry and Engineering, in addition to Psychology, Sociology and Criminology.

His social life at the university was not so hectic, in fact, he only stood out for the fact that he was a boy genius, and that was it. To other people, he was a person like any other.

Until one autumn day, in the middle of his 19 years and studying psychology, his paths were interrupted by crossing that of others, and that, probably, is the person who changed his life the last years of college.

It was an ordinary day in the university library. Spencer had been rereading an encyclopedia of human anatomy for two hours. Why you may wonder, well, it was his way of killing time during his free time.

Acquiring knowledge was the best way to keep his brain fed and occupied, according to the boy.

He had eaten his sandwich a couple of minutes ago and let his brain feed on information at that moment, trying to persuade his intrusive thoughts at that minute. Through the pages you could see the muscular system, focusing on the leg and foot areas.

To be honest, it looked quite interesting.

That day, leaves were beginning to fall from the trees, filling the ground with their autumn colors; there was a gentle cool breeze, a strong smell of wet dirt and people were crowded in the warmer areas of the campus. It was no surprise to anyone that the library was one of the most crowded areas, the vast majority of people were gathered around the tables as large college texts lay open on them.

Spencer was sure he had seen more than one student curse at the fact that they couldn't find what they were looking for, and then walk out of the room in exhaustion. It wasn't the first time someone had cursed his name because they found themselves reading the text they were looking for and, besides, they weren't able to approach and ask for it.

He could believe it was cowardly on their part, maybe they were too shy to be able to do it or it was an excuse to put off studying what they were looking for. Even though he considered that the The study methods they had were not very good and, if they started studying earlier, they could increase their grad-

"Excuse me."

A voice interrupted the conversation Spencer was having with himself, pushing away his intrusive thoughts that were beginning to take over his mind. The young man's head turned and he saw a girl, perhaps his age, staring at the encyclopedia in front of him.

"I asked Miss Wellington about the Rouviére and Delmas encyclopedia of human anatomy, and well..." The girl looked over Spencer's shoulder. "She told me that maybe the boy sitting at the back table had it. There are no other tables in the back and you're the only guy sitting here, so I think my deduction is correct and you have it."

"Y-yes, this is the encyclopedia you're looking for." Spencer admitted, looking at the young woman.

More than looking at her, he was admiring her. She was wearing a red skirt and hoodie with some embroidered words on it, her legs were also wearing dark leggings and some rather damaged black converses, over it she was carrying another coat and a backpack; her arms were loaded with medical and anatomy books, plus her hair was disheveled.

"Great! Must be my lucky day that a cute guy has it." Her books fell onto the table and she sat down next to Spencer.

The boy could smell the scent of tobacco and mint mixed with the scent of cherry perfume.

"May I see?" Spencer turned to look at her and, even though he was reading that book first, his head nodded. "Fine! I just want to see..." The sound of the leaves was rapid, as if a fan was moving them. "This... Nervous system."

Suddenly, and as if by magic, a notebook appeared in front of them both and quickly the girl was beginning to write on the blank sheets, even though to Spencer it looked more like a scribble than a resume as such.

"Shit, what is this?" the girl paused to read more closely. "In the central axon, the electrical signal is converted into a chemical signal, and then releases the chemical signal with chemical messengers called neur-neurotransmitters." The sound of the pencil falling on the table made the boy startle.

"Nervous system?"

"That's right, I have a lecture in three days and I'm still trying to associate concepts in the nervous system. Like my nervous system isn't nervous anymore."

Spencer chuckled to himself, the girl had a funny sense of humor.

"In fact, when the brain interprets that we are in danger, it produces a rush of adrenaline that activates the heart and muscles to place them on alert, but if prolonged, it can lead to health problems such as cardiovascular disease like heart attack and is associated with hypertension and arrhythmias and is the enhancer of other cardiovascular risk factors." Spencer turned to look at the girl, who looked quite interested in what he was saying, jotting everything down in her notebook. "But it's not that your nervous system is 'nervous', it's that it interprets that it's in danger and so it sends that kind of stimulus to your body that makes you anxious."

"I see you know about the nervous system, much more than I do." The girl scanned him from head to toe. "Are you a medical student?"

"No, CalTech doesn't have a medical degree, but I am a doctor." The boy admitted.

"How old are you?"

"Nineteen."

"Shit, and you already have a doctorate?"

"Actually I have three."

Silence stretched between the two, caused by the woman's shock.

"Are you some kind of alien or is your brain too big that it stores more information than I can retain?"

"Well, I have an IQ of 187 so I can read 20,000 words per minute, plus I have eidetic memory. But I prefer the concept of being more advanced than others."

The girl stared at him.

But to his surprise, the young woman only let out a giggle.

"You're funny, I like it." No one had ever told Spencer that he was funny. In fact, he thought that adjective didn't directly relate to him. "I'm Y/N, Y/N L/N."

"Spencer...Spencer Reid." Y/N denied.

"No, you're not Spencer."

"Excuse me?"

"You're Dr. Spencer Reid." Spencer smiled, she was right. "Well, it's nice to meet you, dr. Reid."

"Nice to meet you, Miss L/N." They both smiled.

"Well, now that I know your name, dr. Reid, we can start our friendship."

Spencer never thought making friends was so easy, even though he knew it was because the girl had gone to the trouble of calling herself his "friend," without even knowing him.

But that didn't bother him, in fact, he found it nice that someone had decided to be his friend.

Overnight, Spencer's evenings began to become more colorful, smelling of tobacco and mint, and filled with questions from Y/N, his new friend.

Although, at first, Spencer didn't seem comfortable around the girl, he quickly got used to it. He had learned several things about Y/N over the days, such as that she was a medical student at Pasadena City College, a college a couple of blocks from CalTech; she was the youngest in the family and had an older brother who had been diagnosed with leukemia a couple of years ago.

He had also learned that she was very into fashion, lived in an apartment complex nearby, smoked a couple of years ago, and only liked menthol tobacco cigarettes. Her favorite color was orange, but she didn't think it looked good on her, and she didn't see herself going to medical school, but she wanted to be a singer.

The first time Spencer heard Y/N sing was during a kermes in Pasadena City, she had been invited to sing on behalf of the medical school. Spencer never liked the idea of being around so many people, let alone at a kermes which was as unsanitary as possible, but his new "best friend" had begged him to go.

He couldn't say no.

He remembered perfectly how her hands shook with nerves, how she bit her lip as she cleared her throat and watched her bandmates, aka Y/N's other friends, rehearse with their instruments.

He knew she had practiced for this moment a bunch of times, had more than once arrived at Spencer's dorm wet from head to toe from running in the rain after a rehearsal, and hummed the songs under her breath every time they studied together in the library.

She was more than ready, but her own fears sometimes made her afraid of her talent.

Reid's eyes were on her, smiling confidently to convey that feeling as a guitar began to play the first chords, and announced the start of her performance.

Spencer didn't know what song it was, he wasn't even sure if the song was to his taste, but when he heard Y/N's voice he knew it had become his favorite song.

“Her name is Noelle

I have a dream about her, she rings my bell

I got gym class in half an hour

And, oh, how she rocks

In Keds and tube socks

But she doesn't know who I am

And she doesn't give a damn about me”

Their gaze was on each other, as if they were the only ones in that large space. The few times the eye contact was broken was when Y/N closed her eyes.

The song ended successfully and an avalanche of applause greeted Y/N, who thanked the audience for their attention. Soon another band filled the stage and for a few seconds, Spencer lost sight of Y/N. He wanted to tell her how great she had turned out, how all her effort and practice had made everything come out perfectly and that she looked like a total rockstar on stage.

"Spence! How was it, did you like it?" Y/N hugged the boy's arm, who turned to look at her with a sweet smile on his face.

"It was amazing, Y/N. Everyone loved it." Affirmed the boy.

"I was so nervous, I was so afraid it wouldn't go well, but I saw you there, and I felt like I could do it. You're my lucky charm, Spencie."

Spencer felt something jump in his chest.

"Let's get something to eat, I'm dying for some corn-dogs." Said the opposite.

"Y-yeah, let's get something to eat, my treat."

The day Spencer was accepted into the FBI academy was probably the most bittersweet day of his entire life.

At 22 years old, and in the middle of finishing his college semester for what felt like the fifth time, a letter arrived in his dorm room.

A letter of acceptance.

He could feel that all his hard work had been rewarded by whoever was up there. He quickly put on his sneakers and ran a marathon to the medical building at Pasadena City College.

His best friend's short red hair he could quickly visualize as he saw her smoking by the entrance, she seemed to be listening to something on her MP4 and bobbing her head to the beat of-who-knows-what song.

"Y/N! Y/N!" Spencer's voice sounded agitated, trying to get her best friend's attention.

The, now, redhead removed her earpiece and turned to see the tall boy running towards her.

"Spence?" From her mouth came the tobacco smoke, causing her to let the cigarette burn between her fingers.

"I made it, I got into the academy!"

The two big hazel eyes made contact with those of the girl, who dropped the cigarette to the sidewalk and hugged her friend tightly.

"I can't believe it, Spence! You did it! You did it! My goodness, I couldn't be prouder!" The younger girl began to do some jumping jacks as she didn't let go of her grip on his embrace.

"Thank you, Y/N. I couldn't have done it without you, you were the one who stuck with me through this whole process."

"You don't have to thank me, dorkie. I knew you'd make it, they couldn't leave out a genius like you." Soon they both disengaged from the embrace and the girl looked at the boy's face. "W-where is the academy? Tell me."

"I don't know, I-I didn't fully read the letter." He admitted embarrassed.

"Then read it! Go on." The girl took him by the arm and forced him to sit down on the faculty stairs.

Slowly, Spencer began to read the letter while Y/N listened intently to every word.

"The course begins on September 23rd of the current year in..." A pause.

Y/N looked at Spencer, who had stopped reading the letter.

"Where, Spence, what does it say?"

"The course begins September 23rd of the current year in Quantico, Virginia."

Y/N felt like a bucket of cold water had just been dropped on her.

Quantico? That was on the other side of the country!

"Q-quantico? Spence, that's on the other side of the-"

"Country, I know Y/N. I-I... I can't do it, I can't."

"What the fuck are you talking about!" The girl stood up startled, looking accusingly at her best friend. "No, I refuse. You have to do it, it's your dream, Spence! What you've always wanted for the last three years that I've known you, I refuse to let you back down now, I won't allow it!"

Spencer looked up from the letter, watching Y/N who was looking at him with her face burning with anger.

"You know I can't do that, what's going to happen to my mom? You know what's going on with her and her schizophrenia, I can't leave her alone."

"She would want you to go, Spence. Her happiness is where yours is, you know she'll be able to do it, there are plenty of options to help her." A long silence settled between the two of them.

Spencer didn't want to leave California, he didn't want to leave his mother or Y/N, he couldn't.

"Spencer Reid, I know what you're thinking right now, but I won't let you let this opportunity pass you by. You have dreamed of this exact moment for years, for as long as I have known you you have always wanted to go to the academy and you have done everything in your power to do so. Now they are offering it to you on a silver platter, you have to do it, there is nothing more you can do here in California. You've already studied all the existing careers in the world, you've already done what anyone in 50 years would have done and at your short 22 years you're already a doctor of three careers." The girl settled back down beside him, letting her icy hand wrap around Spencer's warm one. "You can't just limit yourself to staying here just because you have an engagement, the world has to know who Dr. Spencer Reid is like I know him, you have to go."

Spencer drew an elongated smile, feeling his body fill with that feeling of sadness that pervaded him from head to toe.

The redhead's words were true, it was his dream. But he didn't want to leave the only thing that made him happy on the other side of the country, he would love to carry it in his pocket to Virginia and have his dose of serotonin after each day.

He didn't want to stop smelling her tobacco and minty breath, the cherry smell coming off her clothes and the blueberry smell coming off her hair. He wanted to keep seeing the reddish locks of hair on his clothes and the cheesy paper notes in his pockets every time they met. He wanted to keep listening to the music on Y/N's MP4 every time he went to her apartment and drink coffee with lots of sugar that she made for him, keep hearing her voice in the shower and get biology questions at three in the morning every time she had a test.

He wanted to go to thrift stores to try on printed T-shirts and watch Y/N's camera fill up with pictures of the two of them, keep going to her shows with her band and eat frozen pizza after every gig.

He wanted to keep being with her.

But if she was letting him go, then he had to let her go too.

"I think I can go on living without hearing your bad jokes." Spencer's words lifted Y/N's spirits, who gave him a playful smile.

"Hey! My jokes are the best, last time you laughed for two hours."

"Because it was stupid."

They both laughed, letting the tension of the moment go with the last echo of their laughter.

"So you'll go across the country to make me proud?"

"Yes, I'll go make you proud."

Y/N's arms wrapped around Spencer's body, resting her head in the space of his shoulder and chin.

"I'm glad you didn't make a dumb decision."

Staying here with you isn't a dumb decision, Spencer thought.

They both pulled apart.

"Well, screw the skeleton. Let's go to the library and write your answer."

The girl's small hand imprisoned the boy's large hand, guiding him to the library to write what would be Spencer's fate.

The flight from California to Washington was five hours.

Five hours where Spencer and Y/N would be separated, and they would have to accept that fate had something different in store for the two of them.

Despite California being a sunny paradise, that day he wanted to keep the two friends company as they said goodbye at the airport.

"You already know my number, you know you can call me whenever you want." Commented the girl, who was in charge of carrying the book she had given him to read during the trip.

"I'm not such a fan of technology, you know that."

"There are pay phones over there too, Spence. It only costs a couple of cents to call me, plus they must have landlines there, and you have my email." The girl stopped in front of the door that separated goodbyes with new beginnings. "And if not, you can send me a letter. You know my address."

"A letter doesn't sound bad at all, in fact, for centuries, it was one of the most widely used means of communication by human civilizations since man began to write and whose importance transcended nations. The oldest courier service ever found was in Egypt in 2400 B.C. and in 1840, Sir Rowland Hill created the first postage stamp, which was called Penny Black, which was a profile drawing of Queen Victoria of England that had the rate 'One Penny' written on it."

"Oh Spence, I'm going to miss your fun facts about absurdly boring things." Commented the girl before she could hug him.

Spencer felt his heart clench.

"I'll miss you listening to me." They both turned in an embrace so tight it could take all the oxygen out of their bodies.

Neither wanted to be the first to say goodbye, neither was ready to leave the other. Their hearts were bound together like puzzle pieces, and just as when you lose one, the puzzle will no longer be complete.

"Now, you must go, your flight is about to leave." Y/N commented, separating from the young man as she wiped away the small tear that escaped from her eyes. "Miss me a lot, huh? And show off how pretty your best friend is."

"Always. Remember that wherever you are, whatever you do or whoever you're with, you'll always be in my heart."

A pout settled in Y/N's mouth, who felt like she was letting a part of her go with Spencer.

"Don't forget about me, because I will never forget about you." Demanded the girl, who was pushing the boy to go for his flight.

"It's impossible for me to forget you, I have an eidetic memory." He said laughing, waving goodbye as he received the book the girl handed him.

The two met in a final embrace, where Spencer could smell the girl's cherry and menthol tobacco scent for the last time.

"Write me!" Y/N vociferated, waving goodbye to the boy who nodded and disappeared behind the airport doors.

Y/N and Spencer didn't know that at that moment fate would place them on trial, causing their paths to diverge for many years until, magically, they would come together again.

“When two souls are meant to meet, fate brings worlds closer, erases distances, joins paths and defies the impossible.” Anonymous.

If you like it, don't forget to like and repost it.

a lot of love, alme. ❀

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x you #spencerreid #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid x famous!reader #criminal minds fanfiction #it's my first series #almeseries

2K notes · View notes

nomazee · 1 year

Text

open up

sebastian (sdv) x reader

word count: 3.5k

content: silly love again, mutual pining, not actually unrequited love, some goofs and giggles and misunderstandings, the teeniest tiniest inkling of angst but it’s covered up with silliness, the word hussy is used which is the funniest word ever and i’m so glad i discovered it it’s so old-timey-small-town word

notes: this is a part three to my little mini series w sebastian! you can find part one here, and part two here!

oh hey guys this is probably completely indecipherable but i’ve been rewriting this over and over again this past week and decided that this is my most proudest version of this work and maybe there will be more but this... is IT (i’m lying and will be writing more companion pieces to this okay much love love all of u mwah)

<><><><><>

Hiding from your problems does not fix everything. In fact, it doesn’t fix anything.

It’s a lesson you should’ve figured out the first time you did it. You remember being back in grade school, forgetting to study for a test one year and faking a rash in the nurse’s office to get out of it. The rash in question was a collection of the healing, scabbed-over cat scratches on your forearm. You’d drawn over it harshly with dark red pen and marker to create some kind of rash-like illusion. In the end all you got was a disappointed look from the nurse, an ugly smear of red and burgundy on your arm, and a D-minus on your world history test.

So, yes. Hiding has dreadful consequences. And even just during your time in Stardew Valley, you should’ve known to keep this lesson close to your heart. This is the second time you’ve run away from Sebastian already, and the first time didn't last long anyways. Stupid, silly you.

In your defense, it wasn’t really Sebastian you were running away from. It was his mom. For three days following your stupid kissing shenanigans, Robin terrorized your dreams, and your daydreams, and the reflections of yourself that you saw in the tiny pond on your farm…

So, yes it’s safe to say that running away was not doing you any good. But what other choice did you have?

You’re an adult. You could totally scrape apart what’s left of your dignity and act like it—maybe take the walk up to the mountains and apologize to Robin and Sebastian, too. Tell them that it was wrong of you to be so promiscuous on their front porch (promiscuous, of course, equating to one single kiss on the lips that lasted no more than ten seconds), and that you’d never do it again and never even look Sebastian in the eyes, if that’s what they wanted.

While you’re at it, maybe you’d be able to ask Robin for the coop upgrade that you’ve needed for weeks now. All you have to do is… be an adult and face your problems. Your one massive roadblock of a problem.

It’s not even a problem, per se. But you’ve embarrassed yourself far too much in front of the people in this town and you’re a little tired of taking blow after devastating blow to your reputation. You’d rather wilt and rot here, on the soil of your farm, with your duck walking her webbed feet across your chest and leaving damp marks all over your shirt.

This is peace. This is where you could die, decomposing in your leftover humiliation from the week before. But of course—all good things come to an end, and the end comes to you in the form of a distinct lack of wheat seeds in your storage containers.

Dreadful. This is a sign from some higher power that it’s finally time for you to get your ass up and go into town. Face the world like an adult. Get your wheat seeds so that you and your animals don’t starve to death and rot away on this already-rotting farm. Ugh.

Your duck pads up your chest and leans her face into yours. Her beady little eyes stare right into your soul. She’s begging you. Begging you to get wheat so her plump little body doesn’t start to deteriorate. What a manipulator.

A heavy, bone-rattling sigh escapes you as you gently push her off of you and sit up. This is it. You have to face everyone, again, after embarrassing yourself in front of the stupid boy you like and his mother, of all people. Fortunately for you, they live up in the mountains, so a little trip to PIerre’s in town wouldn’t be so much of a risk. You’d be fine. You could still be a functioning adult, so long as you didn't wander up north where the mines were.

…

Okay, well. You lied to yourself.

It was all a big lie. A big lie you told yourself to feel some kind of security about leaving your stupid, lonely farm and going into town and getting the stupid seeds that you needed. You’re a liar, a fraud, and a chronic-problem-avoider, and none of those problems would ever get fixed during your probably-very-short-lifespan. Short, of course, because you were going to die in the middle of Pierre’s shop, right here and right now in the produce aisle.

Because of course, as luck would have it, Sebastian is right there too. Staring at you. Holding two unshucked ears of corn, in his hands. You would laugh at how silly he looked if this wasn’t so humiliating.

“Um.” He’s the first to say anything. Hearing his voice after a week startles you enough to make you stiffen even more and your shaky hands threaten to drop the seed packets to the floor. His eyes are wide and there’s a flush to his cheeks that might be from the leftover chill of the outdoors. Despite everything, you hope maybe it’s because of you instead.

You can’t form words. Your mouth flutters open and closed like a trapdoor until you decide to keep them tightly shut. Devastating. Humiliating. Mortifying. There are so many words that you’ve used so often over the last two weeks that you could continue to use here. Your vocabulary is not very expansive in the slightest, but it’s not your fault you’ve been put in the same types of scenarios so often.

“Hello,” you choke out. Surprisingly, your voice is steady for the most part. The rest of you is not. The seeds rattle in your hands and you can feel your legs locked up. Anxiety floods through you like ice water and freezes in your bone marrow. You’re stuck. You might throw up. Again, this is a very common theme in every interaction you have with Sebastian. Very unfortunate.

Even more unfortunate is the fact that, despite all the embarrassment and chagrin and overall-horrifying matter of events, you still want to kiss him. You’re reliving the ten-second kiss from the last time you saw him and it’s making you enter some parallel universe in your head—one where his mom didn't catch you kissing, and where he liked you back and maybe let you sleep over his house like he said he would, and where you could kiss him even more. You’re getting whiplash from everything running through your head. God.

“I, um…” he clearly feels just as awkward, which does nothing to reassure you. “Haven’t seen you in a while. We thought you’d… show up to the saloon, or.” Sebastian cuts himself off early. He must realize by your completely unmoving form that you’re not planning on loosening up at all during the course of this conversation.

“Right, um,” you scramble for some kind of excuse but you know that regardless of what you say, he’s gonna know. He’s not gonna believe a single thing you say, because he knows. He was there. He was the one that you kissed.

There’s no way he’s not completely aware at this time. Totally and utterly aware that you’re indescribably in love with him, more than infatuated. He must know that you like him so much it makes your chest hurt and your head ache with the untamable need to kiss him stupid every time you see his face. He must know. You’d risked it all, laid it open on the table for him last week when you kissed him and he didn't do much with it, really, which was fine but—he must know. After all of this.

A thought rushes through your head and it immediately heats up the ice in your bones. You’re moving, now, this time at a pace that can only be achieved by spontaneous ferocity and a phobia of the mother of the boy you like. You’re quick to act, lunging forward and grabbing his arm to pull his entire form behind the shelf.

“Is your mom here?!” you whisper harshly at him. You didn't even think of it until now, the fact that he might be here with his mother and that would mean you’d have to face her not on your own terms. A confrontation would start up in the middle of this quiet, quaint little grocery store, and you’d have to yield and nod at an angry ginger woman as she called you a hussy, or something. Or— no, Robin wouldn’t call you a hussy. She was too nice for that. Pam would call you a hussy, probably. Well.

The distress in your voice must come out clearly enough for him because he frantically shakes his head and whispers back a definite no! It’s too late to reel you back in, though, and your mind is already going a million miles a minute. If you’re going to do anything, you have to do it now, because otherwise you will never speak a single word to this family ever again.

“You— Please tell your mom that I’m sorry, like so very very sorry, and I will give her so many of my crops and hardwood and stone to make up for everything. And—” you shush him when he tries to interrupt, talking over him rapidly to stop him from trying it again, “—I didn't mean to— or, I did mean— um, point is. Tell your mom. I’m so sorry. And that I really need a coop upgrade and I’ll pay her double what it normally is to make up for everything.” You pause. “Please.”

Sebastian is. Speechless. It’s not often that you see him like this—in fact, you don’t think you’ve actually ever seen him like this. His mouth flutters open and closed. Trapdoor, just like you, earlier. The shared traits between both of you make you want to throw up and scream. It’s too endearing and you want to rip your heart out before another situation happens just like last time, this time with Pierre as your witness.

“What…” he begins, “are you talking about?” The furrow in his brow is one of genuine confusion, and so is the high-pitched lilt of his questioning voice. It only serves to make you more confused. And more agitated because this is really really embarrassing and the heat of it is starting to settle on your face and neck.

“What. Do you think. I’m talking about.”

He obviously does not get the hint. He stays quiet, expression frustratingly unmoving as he blinks once, twice, three times at you. Holy shit.

“I’m not going to say it,” you tell him. Any kind of confidence you had going into this conversation has dissipated and melted into a gooey kind of embarrassment. Suddenly, you’re back in the grade school nurse’s office, flinching at the disappointed look she gives you as she writes you a pass back to class—back to your impending doom and the D-minus that awaits you. This is that. This is worse than that by ten— no, a thousand times.

“Are you five years old? What are you talking about, just say—!”

“You are so embarrassing.” You hiss at him, but there’s really no weight in your lackluster insult. It’s more of a half hearted attempt to get him to stop talking about everything and anything, at least until you get out of this goddamn store and maybe even this goddamn town where everyone likes to gossip.

You nearly tear the stupid ears of corn out of his stupid hands in your rush to get out of this store. “Are you— Is this the only thing you’re buying?” At his nod, you grab three more packets of miscellaneous seeds and start your rushed walk to the counter to check out.

“What are you doing?!” His voice is a frantic whisper, matching your tone, but it’s less aggravated and more just genuinely confused. Sebastian seems dazed, threaded into the spinning loom of your contagious anxiety. You feel bad about it, really, but you’re threaded right next to him in an aggravating bright yellow string, and it’s hard to untangle yourself.

“Please shut up,” you mumble, and then you’re at the counter and ignoring Pierre’s worried look as you pull crinkled dollar bills from your pockets. The transaction is fast, thankfully, and the cost of Sebastian’s items doesn’t set you back too much. Before you know it, you’re gripping part of his hoodie sleeve and dragging him out the door behind you.

The chill of fall hits you when you step outside. A foggy breath escapes you as you gain the courage to turn back at him. “You. Need to take these to your mom,” you thrust the stupid corn back into his arms and he catches them, thankfully, “and tell her I’m sorry. And pretend everything never happened. Tell her I’m. Really super very sorry.”

“I don’t think you— I’m. Not sure I understand,” he counters you, hesitant but determined in the way he keeps going, “she’s not mad at you. Why are you apologizing? I haven’t seen you for a week and now…?”

Aw. Maybe you should find it sweet that he seems at least a little bit upset about not seeing you, almost like he missed you. That delusional thought is muffled by the stress of everything you’re talking about, though.

“Hussy.”

“What?”

“Um.” There is no coming back from this. “Does she— Do people say that here? Does she. Think I’m a hussy.”

This is a ridiculous conversation. Every single interaction you’ve had with Sebastian, ever, has been ridiculous, and this is doing nothing to disprove that. You’ve actually going to puke. You know, it’s been just a joking threat these past few weeks, but this time you’re really going to vomit all over his stupid skater sneakers.

He’s dead silent, startled into submission by your words and you can’t even blame him. Who says the word hussy?! Why did you think anyone would call you a hussy?!?!

“I kissed her son in the dead of night right in front of her house,” you speak slowly and clearly, forcing yourself past the utter mortification that freezes your fingers and makes bile stir in your stomach, “and you’re saying that she doesn’t, um. That she’s… not mad.”

There is no coming back from this. Again. You’re grasping for either reassurance Sebastian’s mouth does that trapdoor thing again. You contemplate dropping all your seeds and running. Maybe the birds will like them.

“No. You just left me on my porch.” And he’s upset. At least a little bit. It shows in the incredulous tone of his voice and the way his lips stay parted in disbelief. You did, unfortunately, leave him on that porch that night. He’s not… wrong about that. “And then avoided me for a week. You didn't even come into town at all. Abigail and Sam told me they never saw you. Did you never leave your farm just so you wouldn’t see me?” Hurt. He’s hurt, not just upset.

Now you just feel stupid. You didn't even consider the implications of kissing someone and then running away and never seeing them again. In your defense, it wasn’t because of him, more because of his mom and the very likely (read: completely inaccurate) prediction that Robin would beat you up on sight.

“No!” You’re frantic to clear things up, but judging by his doubtful expression you’re going to have to do a lot to reach that goal. “That’s. It wasn’t on purpose. It was embarrassing.” It’s probably still the wrong choice of words. His face flinches and he glances to the side in discomfort. You’re losing him. You’re so, so bad at this. No kidding. That’s why you kissed a guy in front of his mom and almost threw up on his shoes, like, twice. Three times.

Maybe if you put it into perspective. “How would you feel if you kissed someone in their front lawn and then their mom came out and caught you guys kissing and on top of that, what if you were the new person in town and everyone still kind of maybe doesn’t like you completely, and you just ruined your reputation by kissing somebody in front of their parent?” Okay. Effective.

It’s quiet. He’s blinking at you. You get that response a lot whenever you speak to him, really. Maybe that’s a testament to your eloquence. (It’s really not.)

“And,” you keep going, because of course you do, “you never visited me, never sent a letter, nothing. Nobody came to see me. And. I kissed you and then you said nothing and. What was I supposed to do?!”

It’s what you’ve held back for a week now. Really, you weren’t expecting him to show up at your house and confess his undying love for you. A kiss is just a kiss. But if he was going to bring up the whole never-seeing-him-again thing, then you could do that too.

“You.” Trapdoor. He stutters and falters and lets out a sigh that deflates all the tension in his body. “My mom. Wants you to come over for dinner.”

Okay. Well. What the fuck does that mean.

“I want you to come over for dinner,” he clarifies. The furrow in his brow is one of certainty instead of confusion. His eyes meet yours, and stay locked for as long as his inner anxieties allow before he’s looking to the side and avoiding your wide-eyed stare.

Oh. Okay. That’s what. He means.

“Well,” you say out loud, because you’re an idiot and can’t ever control the words that spill out of your mouth. “Then. I would really love having dinner with you.” It’s supposed to come out determined, assured, maybe even a little flirty. Instead, it comes out awkwardly and stilted and you think you might be making a weird face at him on accident. The message clearly gets across, though, because the subtle tension in his face dissipates and he’s starting to smile at you. His stupid, awkward, tucked-in smile. You will yourself to not kiss him in the middle of the town square.

He mumbles a hazy “yeah,” and for a moment you think he sounds almost… dreamy. Lovestruck, maybe. Of course he’s not, because he’s Sebastian and you’re the farmer (th farmer that kissed him, and he kissed back, and now he’s inviting to his house for dinner, but. Well. That’s besides the point). It’s wishful thinking, but you still can’t help the way your eyes trail across his face and down and along the seam of his lips and. There’s the craving to kiss him, reignited, stirring deep in your chest and stomach and in the twitch of your fingertips.

“I guess that means we have to make plans for it,” and there’s some odd deeper meaning in his words, and his eyes are flitting to the side before coming back to you again. His lips twitch in something close to mischief, but not quite. “I guess that I should come over. To talk about plans.”

You’re smiling. You try to resist it, scared you’ll look stupid with how wide you’re grinning but you can’t help it and now you’re smiling with teeth and pressing a giggle back down your throat before you start shrieking in joy. “I think you should. I think I should walk you to my house and talk about. Dinner plans. Totally dinner plans.” Sebastian’s eyes flit to your lips for a moment, a devastating, knee-weakening palm-dampening bone-rattling moment. You’re very certain that you didn't imagine it in some infatuated haze. The corners of his lips tuck into that smile you love so much, too much, and he lets out a breathy sort of laugh. “Dinner plans.”

You walk him home—to your home, this time. There’s seeds in your right hand and the two ears of corn in his left, and your proximity as you walk makes it so that your hands brush together slightly with every step you take. His hands are dry from the cold. You don’t tell him that.

And you two don’t hold hands on the way home, because that would be silly. Because you’re just walking him to your house, to talk about dinner plans. There’s a bubble of unspoken things around the both of you, but there’s something between the looks you share with each other that makes you stop caring so much about saying things. You’re not very good at that, anyways.

You show him your favorite duck in your coop, the one you want Robin to upgrade, and then your cool cheese press machine that accounts for half the money you earn from your farm. He’s finally introduced to Kitty, who yowls at him once before padding up to him and biting his calf. You tell him it’s her love language.

And you talk about dinner plans. Or. Well. Who are you kidding. You kiss him silly. Silly and stupid in your kitchen, tugging on the sleeves and cuffs of his hoodie and then the hairs at the nape of his neck and then his fingers, trailing your own against his palm in circles and spirals and heart shapes that you’re almost embarrassed to be making. Almost. But not really.

You don’t really have the time or mind to be embarrassed, really. Not when you’re dizzy and warm and giggling into the lips of the pretty boy you’re in love with. And, not when you’re busy making dinner plans, of course.

#stardew valley x reader #sebastian x reader #sdv x reader #stardew valley #stardew valley sebastian #sebastian sdv x reader #sebastian stardew valley x reader #sebastian sdv #stardew valley x farmer #sebastian x farmer #sebastian sdv x farmer #stardew valley fanfic #sebastian fanfic #sebastian sdv fanfic #I DID IT GOOD LORD #ill write a makeout scene to make up for this #maybe #...hopefully

1K notes · View notes

mostlysignssomeportents · 4 months

Text

Tabs give me superpowers

Berliners: Otherland has added a second date (Jan 28) for my book-talk after the first one sold out - book now!

"Lifehacking" is in pretty bad odor these days, and with good reason: a once-useful catch-all for describing how to make things easier has become a pit of productivity porn, grifter hustling, and anodyne advice wreathed in superlatives and transformed into SEO-compliant listicles.

But I was there when lifehacking was born, and I'm here to tell you, it wasn't always thus. Lifehacking attained liftoff exactly 19 years and 348 days ago, on Feb 11, 2004, when Danny O'Brien presented "Life Hacks: Tech Secrets of Overprolific Alpha Geeks" at the 0'Reilly Emerging Technology Conference (aka ETCON). I was there, and I took notes:

https://craphound.com/lifehacksetcon04.txt

O'Brien's inspiration was his social circle, in which people he knew to be no smarter or better or motivated than anyone else in that group were somehow able to do much more than their peers, in some specific domain. O'Brien delved deeply into these peoples' lives and discovered that each of them had merely ("merely!") gotten very good at using one or two tools to automate things that would otherwise take up a lot of their time.

These "hacks" freed up their practitioners to focus on things that mattered more to them. They accomplished the goal set out in David Allen's Getting Things Done: to make a conscious choice about which things you are going to fail to do today, rather than defaulting to doing the things that are easy and trivial, at the expense of the things that matter, but are more complicated:

https://gettingthingsdone.com/what-is-gtd/

One trait all those lifehacks shared: everyone who created a little hack was faintly embarrassed by it, and assumed that others who learned about their tricks would find them trivial or foolish. O'Brien changed the world by showing that other people were, in fact, delighted and excited to learn about their peers' cool little tricks.

(Unfortunately, this eventually opened the floodgates of overheated posts about some miraculous hack that turned out to indeed be silly and trivial or even actively bad, but that wasn't O'Brien's fault!)

I'm one of those people whom others perceive as very "productive." There are some objective metrics on which this is true: I wrote nine books during lockdown, for example. Like the lifehackers O'Brien documented in 2004, I have lots of little hacks that aren't merely a way of getting more done – they're a way to make sure that I get the stuff that matters to me (taking care of my family and my health, and writing books) done.

A lot of these lifehacks boil down to making your life easier. There's a spot on our kitchen counter where I put e-waste. Whenever I go out to the car, I carry any e-waste out and put it in a bag in the trunk. Any time I'm near our city dump, I stop and throw the bag into their e-waste bin. This is now a habit, and habits are things you get for free: I spend zero time thinking about e-waste, which means I have more time to think about things that matter (and our e-waste still ends up in the right place).

There's other ways I use habits to make my life easier: after many years, I learned how to write every day:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/01/22/walking-the-plank/

For longer-form works like novels, I "leave myself a rough edge," finishing the day's work in the middle of a sentence. That way I get a few words for free the next day, meaning I never start the day's work wondering which words I'll type:

https://locusmag.com/2014/01/cory-doctorow-cheap-writing-tricks/

One of the most powerful habits I've cultivated is to have a group of daily tabs that I open in a new browser every morning. The meat of this tab group is websites I want to check in with every day, either because they don't have RSS feeds, or because I want to make sure I never miss an update.

This tab-group habit started before RSS was widespread, when most of the websites I wanted to check in on every day didn't have feeds yet, and for many years, this group was just a set of daily reads. But over the years, I started throwing things in the tab-group that I needed to stay on top of.

My daily tabs are in a folder called "unfucked rota" (they were originally in a folder called "rota," which got corrupted and had to be reconstructed in a folder I called "fucked rota," until I finally took a couple hours off and got it in good running order, hence "unfucked rota"). As I type this, "unfucked rota" contains more than a hundred websites I visit every morning, but it also contains:

The edit-history pages for four Wikipedia entries I'm watching;

Chronological feeds of my books on Amazon and Audible, to catch counterfeits as they are posted;

The parent notification portal for my kid's school;

The mileage history for the airline I flew on yesterday (I'll delete this once the flight is posted);

The credit card history for a card I reported a fraudulent charge on (I'll delete this once the refund is posted);

The sell-pages for three products that are out of stock (I'll delete these once the products are in stock and ordered);

A bookmarked newest-first Ebay search for a shirt I like that has been discontinued by the manufacturer;

The new-survey-completed pages for my last two Kickstarters;

The courier tracking page for an item being shipped sea-freight to me from Asia.

The tail end of this unfucked rota changes all the time, but as you can tell, it's got a lot of stuff that would be time-consuming to build a whole new system to track, but which has a web-page that can be easily added to a daily, habitual check-in and then removed when it's not relevant anymore.

Some of these things have email notifiers or RSS feeds, but those are too easy to lose in the noise. I generally delete email from ecommerce sites unread, since 99.99% of the messages they send me are unsolicited marketing nonsense, not the "notify me when this is back in stock" message I do want to see (same goes for my kid's school, which sends me fifty unimportant messages for every message that I must reply to).

Most of the internet is still on the web, which means it can be bookmarked, which means that it takes me one second to add it to the group of things I'm staying on top of, and one second to remove from that group. I get up in the morning, middle-click the "unfucked rota" item in my bookmarks pane, make a cup of coffee, and then sit down and race through those tabs, close-close-close.

It takes less than a second to scan a tab to see if it's changed (and if I close a tab too quickly, the ctrl-shift-T "unclose" shortcut is there in muscle-memory, another habit). The whole process takes between one and 15 minutes (depending on whether there's anything useful and new in one of those tabs).

Tabs, like lifehacks, are also in bad odor. Everyone stresses about how many tabs they have open. It's even inspired Rusty Foster's excellent newsletter, Today In Tabs:

https://www.todayintabs.com/

But this is a very different way to think about tabs. Rather than opening a window full of tabs that need your detailed, once-off attention later, this method is about using groups of tabs so that you can pay cursory, frequent attention to them.

In a world full of administrative burdens, where firms and institutions play the "sure, we'll do that, but you're going to have to track our progress" game to get out of living up to their obligations, this method is a powerful countermeasure:

https://memex.craphound.com/2015/02/02/david-graebers-the-utopia-of-rules-on-technology-stupidity-and-the-secret-joys-of-bureaucracy/

My little tab habit is so incredibly useful, such a powerful way to seize back time and power from powerful actors who impose burdens on me, that I sometimes forget how, for other people, tabs are a symptom of a life that's spiraling out of control. For me, a couple hundred tabs are a symbol of a couple hundred tasks that I'm totally on top of, a symbol of control wrestled back from others who are hostile to my interests.

This isn't how tabs were "meant" to be used, of course. It's an example of the kind of "innovation" that comes from users repurposing things in ways their designers didn't necessarily anticipate or intend.

This is what Jonathan Zittrain meant by "generative" technology back in 2008, when he published his incredibly prescient The Future of the Internet: And How To Stop It:

https://memex.craphound.com/2008/07/22/zittrains-the-future-of-the-internet-how-to-save-the-internet-from-the-internet/

For Zittrain, "generativity" was the property of some technologies that let its users generate new, useful tools and solutions for themselves (this is very different from "generative AI!")

Zittrain described how "curated" computing systems, like mobile devices that relied on apps that couldn't be adapted by their users, were dead ends for generativity. 15 years later, the dismal world of apps has proven him right:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/24/everything-not-mandatory/#is-prohibited

To the extent that "lifehacking" is about doing more, rather than being more deliberate about what you accomplish, it can be harmful. I am not immune to the failure modes of lifehacking:

https://locusmag.com/2017/11/cory-doctorow-how-to-do-everything-lifehacking-considered-harmful/

But overall, using tabs as something I close, rather than something I open, is a source of comfort and calm for me. For one thing, ripping through a group of tabs every morning means that I don't have to worry about missing something if I go too fast. I'll get another chance tomorrow:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/05/27/probably/

Decades ago, Dori Smith dubbed her pioneering blog her "#Backup Brain":

https://web.archive.org/web/20020120231027/http://www.backupbrain.com/

At their best, our systems – be they physical, like a spot on the counter where the e-waste goes, or digital, like a tab-group – are "congitive prostheses." They allow us to move important things from the highly contested, busy and precious space between our ears and out there into the world:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/05/09/the-memex-method/

Like those lifehackers that O'Brien studied for his presentation in 2004, I confess to feeling a little silly about telling you all about this. For me, this habit of decades is so ingrained that it feels trivial and obvious. And yet, when I look at people in my life struggling to stay on top of a million nagging administrative tasks that could be easily watched through a morning's flick through a tab-group, I can't help but think that maybe some of you will find a useful idea or two in my unfucked rota.

I'm Kickstarting the audiobook for The Bezzle, the sequel to Red Team Blues, narrated by @wilwheaton! You can pre-order the audiobook and ebook, DRM free, as well as the hardcover, signed or unsigned. There's also bundles with Red Team Blues in ebook, audio or paperback.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/25/today-in-tabs/#unfucked-rota

#pluralistic #productivity #life hacks #mozilla #firefox #open web #systems #getting things done #externalized memory #outboard brain #generativitiy

222 notes · View notes

queerprayers · 2 months

Note

does God love me? will He be okay if I go to him, tired and weary, ready to collapse? what will happen when I do that?

Hello beloved, many months later. I'm answering you today because I want you and everyone reading this (and myself) to know the answer to this. Your questions are questions we all ask, ones that people have gone to God with for at least as long as we have stories of God's people.

Mostly today I have God's words for you (through other people), said and experienced much more deeply than I could write, but I will say what I have in my heart too. And that is that God's love is present even when we cannot feel it. God loves you not just when you are aware of this fact. And however much you question it or tear it apart or run away from it or ignore it or forget it, it is all around us and within us. Also, "God loves you" always feels incomplete to me (although it isn't)--I always want to add, take a moment to see the Trinity as Lover/Beloved/Love, see God as Love and the One who Loves and the One who is Love, because love is a verb and a noun and a state of being, and God loves us because we exist in a world in the palm of his hand. God loves you as a person, yes, please know that, and also: our existence is inseparable from the Love moving through each breath. If grief is love with nowhere to go, God is love with everywhere to go.

"Will he be okay" is such an interesting phrase but I think I know exactly what you mean. The answer is that God holds and experiences and is himself the universe, which has space for everything within you. After creating the world, God rested--holy rest is built in to our experiences. God knows and welcomes our need to rest, even commanded it. He will be more than okay--he will rejoice at your arrival, however much of a prodigal son you are, and your collapse will be into him.

What will happen? I can't promise you won't still be tired. There are so many reasons to be tired, and they won't all disappear. Many of things that most tire me are the things that are the things most worth it--the work of love, of caring about the world, of caring for myself, of putting one foot in front of the other. The evil and pain of the world drains us the more we pay attention to it--and yet we are called to do these tiring things. The more I go to God the more love I have in me and the more that care drains me--and yet. It fills me too. God is a well that will never run dry. I drink and am more satisfied and more thirsty than anything else can make me.

What will happen is you will keep caring. And keep working. And hopefully you will have enough rest to not collapse but if you do, if the world fills you with more weariness than you can stand, the One who holds the world in the palm of his hand has room for that. You will be filled with the hunger and the rest of love. A foretaste of the feast to come, when hunger and thirst will be no more.

Some words of scripture for you--may they be a moment of rest.

God is love. Whoever lives in love lives in God, and God in them. (1 John 4:16 NIV)

For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord. (Romans 8:37-39 NIV)

[Elijah] went on a day's journey into the wilderness. He came to a broom bush, sat down under it and prayed that he might die. "I have had enough, LORD," he said. "Take my life; I am no better than my ancestors." Then he lay down under the bush and fell asleep. All at once an angel touched him and said, "Get up and eat." He looked around, and there by his head was some bread baked over hot coals, and a jar of water. He ate and drank and then lay down again. The angel of the LORD came back a second time and touched him and said, "Get up and eat, for the journey is too much for you." So he got up and ate and drank. Strengthened by that food, he traveled forty days and forty nights until he reached Horeb, the mountain of God. There he went into a cave and spent the night. And the word of the LORD came to him: . . . "Go out and stand on the mountain in the presence of the LORD, for the LORD is about to pass by." Then a great and powerful wind tore the mountains apart and shattered the rocks before the LORD, but the LORD was not in the wind. After the wind there was an earthquake, but the LORD was not in the earthquake. After the earthquake came a fire, but the LORD was not in the fire. And after the fire came a gentle whisper. When Elijah heard it, he pulled his cloak over his face and went out and stood at the mouth of the cave. (1 Kings 19:4-13 NIV)

This is probably my favorite Bible passage. When we collapse in the desert and ask to die, God doesn't make us get up right away. First an angel gives us food and water. And then, God is in the gentle whisper, the quiet breath. Elijah finds his purpose after resting and hears God in the quiet. May it be so for us.

. . . Jesus, tired as he was from the journey, sat down by the well. It was about noon. When a Samaritan woman came to draw water, Jesus said to her, "Will you give me a drink?" . . . "Everyone who drinks this water will be thirsty again, but whoever drinks the water I give them will never thirst. Indeed, the water I give them will become in them a spring of water welling up to eternal life." (John 4:6-7; 13 NIV)

This obviously isn't the full story (which you should definitely read if you're not familiar--this is Jesus talking with a woman Jewish people didn't associate themselves with, already knowing her, revealing himself as the Messiah to her), but I wanted you to hear Jesus tired, asking for a drink of earthly water--and also knowing that what he can give us is more than any well can provide. So, too, with rest. Jesus ate and drank and rested on this earth, while being God. He experienced weariness even though he didn't need to, so he could do it with us--while teaching the bigger picture.

And I leave you with this, which answers your question "what will happen" beautifully:

The LORD your God in your midst, the Mighty One, will save; He will rejoice over you with gladness, He will quiet you with his love, He will rejoice over you with singing. (Zephaniah 3:17 NKJV)

Go in peace. If you still carry the weariness of this ask, may it be blessed.

<3 Johanna

#asks #i'm letting go of the embarrassment of answering people late and just. answering #even if the original asker doesn't need it anymore someone will #also i used different translations because the zephaniah is translated multiple ways and i wanted one that used 'quiet'#idk hebrew idk which is more faithful to the text but that word brings it to life for me

65 notes · View notes

peachymilkandcream · 3 months

Text

Fraud | Part 1 | Yandere All Might x Hero!Reader

(A/N: So I decided to start this instead of the Reiner one (which I have some drafts off for the future don't worry. But I'm currently rewatching the show right now so I'm just particularly more inspired by this one. So if/when I do the AOT one I'm not sure. Most likely not for a while unless I feel super inspired by it. And if so I'll probably write it all out and then post it on an additional day once a week. Since I usually post Break Me Slowly on Monday and now this on Tuesday, if I decide to do it I most post it on a Wednesday basis. I'm not sure. Also this won't follow canonical story line! For a little background, reader's hero name is Shade, and their quirk is that they can create shadow copies of their enemies. But thank you for reading and comment to be added to the taglist!)

WARNINGS: implied noncon, dubcon, manipulation, domestic abuse, yandere themes, forced marriage, forced pregnancy, stockholm syndrome, graphic depictions of violence, mind breaking, misogyny, power imbalance, age difference, etc.

==============================================

The world's symbol of peace and justice, a hero for all. Great and mighty. People all across the world knew him, he was the ultimate authority on this planet. Respected and revered.

All Might. The Symbol of Peace.

As a pro, Shade of course respected him above all other heroes, he was the ultimate role model that everyone should look up to and adore. Admittedly that had to do with her desire to become just like him since she was a bit of a fangirl. But regardless, there was nothing so bad about wanting to follow his ideals, was there?

She was determined to meet him one day and make an impression. Hopefully, he would see her talent and invite her to be one of his sidekicks. It wouldn't be totally uncommon, Sir Nighteye was already his right hand man, surely a hero as busy as him could use some more help to keep Japan in its state of reigning peace.

Ever since she was little she dreamed of becoming a pro just like him, she enjoyed watching his battles and keeping up with the news of his latest feats to inspire herself even on her daily commute, who wouldn't want a chance to impress their idol by embodying the same ideals he has?

Besides, her success as a pro was...lacking, to say the least. Her quirk was impressive enough, creating shadows of her enemies and even comrades to fight with her in battle. However the problem lied with the fact that some people believed her quirk seemed rather villainous from outward perspective, apart from some of the teens who enjoyed more intense heroes she had a small fanbase. Most of the ones who did follow her stopped after they discovered her personality didn't match her hero persona at all.

A boost from All Might's agency would really help her brand.

Eventually she could go out more on her own and maybe in form a team with her new found friend and mentor.

"Wake up Shade! Unless you want to be sprayed with acid in the face!?"

On the scene of the crime several pros faced off against a dastardly villain, his quirk was to spew acid from his mouth, and the power of it was disintegrating her shadows. It always seemed like the moment she had a chance to make a name for herself it was against a villain who completely outmatched her quirk type.

"I'm awake, okay? I've got it."

Nothing was able to touch this villain, all hope seemed to be lost until the laugh she had gotten so familiar with filled the air.

"Fear not citizens, hope has arrived!"

An expression of wonder and awe comes across her face when the gust of wind followed by the monstrous form of the Number One Hero steps into the scene.

"Because I am here."

One punch is all it ever took for the criminals to surrender and admit defeat, but this was the first time she had seen him in a professional setting, he was even more amazing then she ever could have believed!

Now was her chance to become a hero just like him.

============================================

"Well done fellow pros, that evil-doer was certainly a heavy hitter, but all of your valiant efforts to keep the peace are much appreciated." His smile never wavered.

"You were amazing All Might, I think I can speak for all of us when we say thank you for saving our butts back there. None of our quirks were really suited for it." Shade's giddy expression never left, truly in awe of the man before her.

"Anytime, but I don't think I've seen you before, still a newbie I take it."

She blushes ever so slightly. "Yes sir, I'm just starting out, my hero name is Shade, it's super nice to meet you-"

"The pleasure is all mine ma'am," His stare was piercing, as if deciding if she really was a hero. "now I must be off, a hero's always got somewhere to be!"

With that he flew off, leaving her behind even more inspired than before.

"He's the most amazing hero in the universe, one day I'll be just like him-"

==============================================

All Might returned to Nighteye religiously pouring over his computer screen, only around his sidekick could the hero's mask fall slightly. His smile disappearing.

"Excellent work on that takedown, your approval rating keeps going up."

"I want you to do something for me. There's a new hero in town, goes by Shade. A newcomer. Find out everything you can about her."

"Why? Another one of your little projects?"

"You could say that."

"All Might this is twice this year now."

"Does that matter? It's not my fault the last ones couldn't handle me."

He rolls his eyes. "I'll find what I can. But go easy this time, alright? I barely was able to cover it up last time."

"Agreed. I'll be more careful."

He shut the door behind him to his personal quarters, staring down at the city below. Being the strongest in the world came with a deep sense of dissatisfaction, he was untouchable, unbreakable.

He needed something to break.

#fraud #all might #yagi toshinori #mha #boku no hero academia #all might x reader #all might x you #all might mha #all might bnha #yandere all might x reader #yandere all might #mha toshinori #bnha toshinori #toshinori yagi x reader #toshinori x reader #toshinori yagi #toshinori yagi x you

102 notes · View notes

dairy-farmer · 6 months

Note

Have I tried to do research on incubuses to write this, yes...

Did I not like the research I did and made it all up in my head, yes again....

Well, although this is an incubus ask is there any proper sex in it, unfortunately no

Will I send this anyway, absolutely yes...

Tim has been an incubus since birth

The magic emitted from the parchment found by Jack and Janet in one of their excavations entered the body of Janet, who was pregnant at that moment, causing some changes in the fetus

Fearing that something would happen to their baby, they talked to the elders of the village where they found the scroll and tried to get as much information about it as possible

The spell was created by a man who found the person he loved in someone else's arms. According to the idea in the mind of the person who created the magic, his lover had been captured through sex and removed from him. In order to correct this, he tried to turn his body into a soul that would be desired by everyone, but he died before he could fully succeed

The point where he failed was actually too simple. Normally, Incubus souls are desired by the other side, and the soul would fulfill its nourishment with this desire, even though it did not need it very much. However, although the baby formed as a result of this magic would be desired by the other side again, he would not be able to live long enough without introducing the fluids formed from people's ejaculation into his body

Jack and Janet didn't quite know what they could do. Their son had been born with a pair of black wings that suited him very well and a long tail that moved depending on his emotions. As parents, they did not want their baby to try to taste semen or orgasm fluid at an early age from strangers, so they continued to stay with Tim for several years and tried to feed him every time their little baby sat on their lap and started to put his teeth on their skin

Within a few years, Tim began to slowly learn to control himself. When he was old enough to go to school, he was able to hide his tail and wings and continue his life without feeding for several weeks

And Jack and Janet, every time their son grew up and learned to control himself more, they increased the duration of their trips abroad a little bit and left Tim alone in the big mansion

It wasn't because they didn't like their little baby, but being trapped in Gotham for years to satisfy Tim's hunger was suffocating them now, and they wanted to get back to the excitement they had experienced thanks to their archaeological excavations

On one of the trips where they left Tim alone, the little incubus accidentally discovered another of his powers when he felt that he was going to starve to death

To be able to enter people's dreams...

The first dream he entered was none other than Dick Grayson, who was living in the Wayne Manor at that time and his hormones were through the roof as a result of puberty

Tim had learned that he could also take on the images of different people during that first dream

After that, he began to spend his time usually entering Dick's dreams. Of course, there were also times when the young boy followed Batman and Robin using his little wings to fully understand the time of his sleep and learned their identities, but this information did not interest Tim so much at that moment

Dick's departure from Gotham after a fight with Bruce led to a new discovery of Tim

The more distance there was, the harder it was for Tim to enter into their dreams

In response, he began to find himself in Bruce's dreams. Probably due to the fact that he was older, Tim did not have a lot of opportunities that he could use for sex, but he still managed to get enough semen into his body to feed

Maybe that's why Jason's young body's arrival meant that he was having a really good amount of food

However, everything began to mix up with the murder of Robin by the Joker. Tim had been unable to reach his parents for a long time, Dick had an even bigger fight with Bruce and said he would never return to Gotham again, while Bruce had begun to see nothing but dreams of losing Jason which caused Tim to cry from the pain

Perhaps that's why his purpose of being Robin was different from everyone else. For normal incubuses, maybe the person they wanted didn't mean anything, but for Tim, connecting to certain people meant not being able to get food from anyone other than them that would help him survive

His body could also choose to accept different people, but this was a complex process(If there is a first-degree kinship to the person he first connected with, sudden attachment would occur) and would be impossible to do after a certain age

The murder of his family, Jason's coming back and him trying to kill Tim which in a way would get Tim out of his dreams, Bruce's death which even though he knows he's alive, and where Dick took Robin away from him and Damian's threats on Tim's life...

The soul inside Tim refused to have desires for people who refused to desire him in a sense, but there were no other people Tim could feed on. He was 17, so the last age he could choose someone different and connect with, even if by force, he spent proving that Bruce was alive

His body was burning, and during the slightest carelessness, his wings and tail would have appeared. Although Tim could have sex in real life until the distrust between them decayed, he didn't want to bother anyone, and the thought of other people touching his body made his stomach uncomfortable

One of the times when he masturbated to eliminate the pain in his pussy in his own apartment and did not need to hide his normal body, Dick caught him in this state

Thinking that his body had been seized, his older brother immediately took him in his arms and tried to take him to the cave

Under normal circumstances, Tim would have tried to get rid of his brother's arms, but right now he wanted to live his last moments happily without anyone finding out his secret, because that little touch ignited the desire in his body

He remembered that his parents had said at the time that it was dangerous for other people to realize that he was an incubus, and he wept into the heat that he would never experience again, while tears soaked Dick's uniform

It was only a matter of time before they kicked Tim out of the family. They would realize that he was really an incubus and they would hate him for using them

But that didn't happen. On the contrary, his family looked at him with sad expressions in their eyes as they listened to what Zatanna was telling. They squinted their eyes with regret while listening to how Tim could not enter their dreams due to the problems that had arisen between them and that he would die if he did not feed decently for a while

And this made Tim very angry. He didn't want their pity, or the thought that they would show him love and desire his body just because he was going to die made him sad

As a result, he fled from the manor...

Others were feeling extremely frustrated over this escape attempt. Even if Tim couldn't get into their dreams, especially as an incubus how could he not feel the desires that kept them up every night? Hunger should have dulled his senses

And even if they caught Tim, what were they going to do? They didn't want to try to force sex and further increase Tim's already insecure feelings, but if they waited any longer, it might have been too late

As a result, after bringing Tim to the manor, they began to prepare drinks consisting their semen

And since Tim got into the habit of drinking it constantly, after a certain period of time, he began to lose control over his movements due to a state of excessive satiety, just like in his childhood with his parents

While Bruce was working in his office, he ignored the meeting opened on the computer, went under the table and started sucking his dick, which he pulled out of his pants

He ignored the image that was open on TV while the movie was being watched and covered himself with the veil he shared with Dick, bringing his little pussy together with his big brother's cock and letting everyone hear the dirty sound caused by sex

He let Jason fuck his pussy hard by decking him between the wall and his muscular body or made Damian's first experience by sitting on him and jumping on his little boy's dick

He felt relieved. The pain in his body disappeared, and he even began to be able to re-enter his family's dreams

It was a complete feast...

the LORE packed into this yesssss!!!!! incubus tim is so good especially his family realizing they've been starving and neglecting him and tim FINALLY getting his fill of all the cum he needs!!!!

#answered asks #asks #anonymous #brutim #dicktim #jaytim #damitim

56 notes · View notes

wanderingsorcerer · 2 months

Note

How do you find sigils and enns for less known daemons?

W.S. on Demonolatry for Lesser Known Demons 18+

This is a question with multiple answers some simple and some that require years of academic study.

I recommend reading the Complete Book Of Demonolatry by S.Connolly, she goes into depth on the historical aspects of demonolatry and the reconstruction done by modern practitioners. This is 18+ and has many adult themes but is a good book on ceremonial magick to learn from.

Where are all the sigils at?

It is almost impossible to find a sigil for every demon you will read about, that being said, like many of the practitioners from days past. You as the adept have the power to create your own, so long as you have the aptitude for it that is.

People in the past divined the sigils through Scrying mirrors, going into trance like states, allowing the demon to channel energy through the magicians hand and draw the sigil, or through trial and error with summonings.

Are Demons Even "Demons"

A lot of the time the demons that you are looking into have origins inside other cultures, including the Djinn of the middle east, and many of the worshipped gods of the pre christian world.

Even Baphomet a popular "demonic" energy that many modern practitioners work with was actually a misspelling. During the trial of some of the Knights Templars Baphomet was scribed during their hearing, as who the Templars worshipped after their time in the middle east.

However it is now understood that what they were attempting to write was Muhammad , The prophet Muhammad to be exact. The Christian templars went into the middle east and came back, following the religion of Islam.

All that to say, are demons even really demons?

Well yes and no, it stems from personal belief, I'm of the walk of life that states all religions and all gods and demons are real because people believe they are.

So how do I make invocations and sigils and be respectful?

When working with these spirits it is important to note their original historical context as well as their modern connotation associated with the names and energies.

Meaning, the invocations and workings you create should both respect the spirit culturally, and respect their current role in whatever hierarchy society associates them with.

All that being said, so long as you believe in your practice and treat these spirits with respect then you will be able to establish a new sigil for them. Even for well known demons, personalizing the symbols can make the bond grow stronger.

It's what many adepts do to this day, the more personal the sigil is to the magician the more power one can give towards invoking the demon.

So What about Enns?

The first published mention of Enns, at least to my knowledge, stems from S.Connolly herself. The use of invocations and spiritual prayers has been around for thousands of years but specifically the Term Enns has no historical basis outside of what S.Connolly herself states it has.

And many books on Demonolatry after her, use her books as the basis for their works as well, hence the popularity of Enns in modern Demonolatry Circles Today.

Not to say the practice is inherently bad or incorrect, Connolly has had a major impact on demonolatry as a whole since the early 2000s and I personally believe her works are worth the read.

All that being said feel free to create your own Enns or Invocations.

Similar to how the sigils are made more powerful by having a personal connection to you. So will the Enns you create:)

In my opinion as long as it works and you're being respectful then go for it.

Take a step back and read every occult work with a grain of salt, never take any occult works as fact, or as the answer to your prayers. Not all of these books will be everyone's cup of tea, take what resonates with you from these books and leave behind anything you don't like.

☕If You Love My Blog Consider Buying Me A Ko-Fi☕ 😊

More on my Patreon

#astrology #self help #investing #confidence #self esteem #self care #self love

25 notes · View notes

lemon-natalia · 6 days

Text

Harrow the Ninth Reaction - Chapter 37

hmm yeah it is suspicious that the Emperor has to be locked away during the attacks. he gives an explanation, but we really only have his word for it

the Lyctors seem perfectly (and very convieniently) made to be able to enter the River while still defending themselves, which makes me wonder if that was the original purpose of creating Lyctorhood, and the Emperor maybe has some kind of plan revolving around it?

now this guy is quoting fucking Psalms 26 in Latin?? thats different to the quotes from before, the fact that its religious is interesting given this guy is apparently ‘God’ now, but he’s quoting a biblical text. also given Harrow can’t possibly know what he’s quoting 90% of the time, he’s awfully pretentious

Harrow’s eighteen, i’m pretty sure she knows how babies are made dude. at least she definitely knows after you guys nearly had a threesome in front of her on the dining room table

he’s been thinking Harrow and Ianthe are a thing omfg

the mysterious A.L.! somehow i was right that the Annabel Lee poem connected to her. and her having another name, and being dead for ten thousand years, i feel like thats a pretty good candidate for the good old Locked Tomb body. at least, thats my current theory.

‘She was my Adam’ again with the biblical stuff, this guy is seemingly religious, but also thinks he’s God??

and apparently the First House was destroyed via climate change and nuclear explosions. if i needed any other confirmation that its Earth (or some equivalent) then i’ve got it here i think

also he was just a normal person before the world ended, and he was the only one who survived and somehow became an incredibly powerful necromancer. i mentioned waaay back at the beginning of this liveblog that i knew there was a guy named John who had something to do with an apocalypse, but i didn't know if i was misremembering him being actually responsible for it, or if i was mixing it up with the Magnus Archives. and i, uh, still have no clue if that is the case or not from this convo, though i do feel like there's more he's not saying about this anyway (please no spoilers about this, i really appreciate everyone explaining things to me in the notes but i'd like to find out whats actually going on with this specifically while reading)

and A.L. was not a ‘normal human being’ whatever that mean, and the Lyctors are ‘in a very real way’ A.L.’s children … what on earth does that mean? she discovered the secret of Lyctorhood maybe?

well that whole conversation both answered a whole bunch of questions and absolutely nothing at the same time 😂

well okay the dude’s gone past playing parent and just outright told Harrow he sometimes wishes she was his daughter. i really don’t know how much of that affection is genuine

imagine telling someone you view them as a surrogate daughter and they fucking. smash a glass table in response lol. and yeah if its been ten thousand years and you haven’t developed emotional intelligence yet, then i don’t think its happening mate

ohhhh shit she’s telling him about the Locked Tomb. and i suppose there are worse ways this could have ended than him not believing her at all, but i really don’t think she’s wrong, especially since Gideon said she saw her do so/saw the door open in the last book, i think she did get in there somehow

wait i was working under the assumption that it was the Emperor who’d messed up her memories, but its not! did she do it to herself then after writing the letters?

#lemon natalia reads the locked tomb #tlt #the locked tomb #the locked tomb liveblog #harrow the ninth

30 notes · View notes

demoiselettes · 2 years

Note

Heyo! Thought I'd drop in with a request, but realized I couldn't tell if they were closed or not, so! If they're open, I have a small (I hope?) request/idea for you! If they're closed... Well, refer to the end of this for the relevant information (it's relevant either way, I'm just saying you can skip the request).

Anyways-

The request: So... I was wondering if you could do a multi character scenario or something? I had an idea where Y/N (probably from our world or something, for plot convenience) manages to get the power to remove Kagaya's curse (plat! Relationship with him. Like, he thinks of them as his child?) But, the repercussions of said power is that the curse is now transferred to them and they hide they have it until they physically can't anymore? Um... Yeah. But, basically, what would everyone's reactions be?

But, yeah. That's it for the request.

NOW!

The relevant information:

Your writing is amazing. Keep it up. YOU are amazing. I hope your life is going well, and that it only gets better. Anyways, have a good day/afternoon/night/whatever-it-is-when-you-see-this. 💜

Unknown Angel

Pairing: Hashiras x reader/ Platonic! Kagaya x reader

Category: angst

Warning(s)/note(s):gn! Reader, death, talk and descriptions of diseases(Kagaya’s curse), platonic! Kagaya, reader got isekai-d into kny, author took a deep dive down Japanese mythology/folklore but i’m no expert so i apologize for any inaccuracies and feel free to correct me! Not proofread

A/n: OMG OMG OMG THIS IS SO SWEET thank you so much for the kind words, it really means a lot to me that you enjoy my writing! And thank you for reading my fics! I hope you have a wonderful day/afternoon/night as well alongside all the joy in life 💕 also! My requests are open! Creating a request rules post has completely escaped my mind but i’ll get to it soon

It was the soothing tranquility, strangely yet comfortingly frolicking around you in what you imagined to be similar to the mist that slightly alleviated the inner turmoil that was eating at your insides.

Even with the Master’s requests of being given an Estate, you had asked to be accommodated in a regular minka, far from the Estates of the hashiras, far from the Master himself, far from prying eyes and into a secluded location only the leader of the Corps and yourself knew about. It had seemed ridiculous, you knew you had been surely criticized by the other slayers(which was further backed by the fact that Sanemi had all too happily sneered in your direction upon hearing of your request), but you knew you needed to be far away from everyone else to be able to put your plan into action. You would not be a burden. Instead, you would remove the burden from their shoulders.

One would think, being transported into an anime would be the root of newfound love, friendships and all the goodies. But was the really true, when you were here with a role to fulfill? And not your typical become a demon-slayer and defeat Muzan role though..perhaps you’d play a small role in achieving that. On your first night when Shinobu Kocho had graciously volunteered to house you, your sleep had been interrupted by a shikigami. Perhaps, waking up screaming in the middle of the night would alert the entire Butterfly Estate which is exactly what happened. And Shinobu Kocho had barged into your room with her sword at the ready. But when she’d set sight on the bird, she reassured you- and you had the feeling her patience wore thin- that crows often flew into the manor at night.

But crows don’t bring foreboding news, do they? After Kocho had retreated back to her room, it was in a dry voice that the so called crow had announced your purpose amidst lots of squawking; to rid the Ubuyashiki line of their curse.

It seemed to wait for you to pick your jaw back up from the ground before continuing with its explanation. What you had previously mistaken to be a mission to kill Muzan(which before you had gotten thrown into the anime, you had thought to be the only way to remove the curse) turned out to actually be a piece of cake.

Fruit cake.

Removing the curse as a whole would be impossible without the death of Muzan—and you had taken pride in saying told ya to the crow who promptly pecked you— but it could be transferred from one body to another. In this case, from Kagaya to yourself. You had visibly winced at that, contemplating the pros and the cons. You had little choice but to accept as you knew you were not skilled enough to become slayer. Perhaps this little contribution the corps could go a long way, right? Even if it meant gambling your life away.

You had performed the ritual unbeknownst to anyone, spilling your blood which had sealed the path the curse would take to leave the Master’s body and enter yours. You had watched as the veins on his forehead lessened and more appeared on yours instead. Day by day, his health improved while yours deteriorated. Though you felt the satisfaction at being useful for once, it did hurt to say goodbye to your life, watching it recede little by little.

The shikigami stayed by your side, that much you were grateful for. In your stead, it flew around the Corps, gathering information and reporting back to you. You knew then, that their happiness was short-lived, because they had found a new source of worry. You.

It seemed to them that you had completely skipped off the radar. Though Kagaya remained true to his words of not disclosing your location, he was being pestered so to speak about your current state.

When he did visit, the truth which you had tried so hard to conceal was at last revealed. He had nearly fallen when witnessing your state. You mirrored himself when he was younger, sicklier. Nothing coming from you helped ease the tension and at the end, all he could do was cradle your weak body like a child’s and weep.

The hashiras knew something was wrong when their had returned and carefully avoided the topic of interest. What would he tell them? That you were dying? That you had done something which should place you at the head of the Corps because you were more deserving of the place than him. But they deserved to know. In their absence, the curse had advanced too far— in fact it seemed to have quickened its pace after the transmission— and by the time Muzan would be defeated..

You hadn’t been expecting a reunion or anything. You hadn’t thought of throwing around a pity party. Perhaps it was unfair to them, but you had thought it better to drift off into the afterlife without informing anyone. Your reasoning was that it would lessen the pain. Besides, it’s not like mattered.

Why, then, was your shikigami trying to chase them away from your house?

The first person to materialize by your side was Mitsuri. Her voice turned shrill when she tried, tried to ask you what you had done but the hiccups and sobbing made it hard for her to fully form sentences and she took to instead hugging you, sobbing into your shoulder. While the others didn’t have such a hysterical reaction, they were still stunned, watching the scene unfold. They seemed unsure of how to react and you didn’t blame them. Oh, if only they hadn’t come. Your sight had been long lost to the curse but you knew by the sound of the footsteps and the by the rough skin of the hands that was tracing the scarred skin on your forehead, that Sanemi was also worried.

Your skin pricked from their gazes, you knew they had gotten closer. Maybe they were surrounding you? You could only offer a sad smile and you felt Mitsuri sob a little harder. Throughout the time you had spent with them, though short, you had built a special bond with each of them(though some of them blatantly refused to admit it). And now, they were watching your lifeline disappear and just as unexpectedly as you had appeared into their lives, you would be gone. They understood better than anyone that lives were precious things, that it could so easily be ripped away. Becoming a member of the Demon Slayer Corps wad akin to signing your death warrant. But you weren’t even a part of it. You weren’t dying because of a demon. It was on your own volition that you had helped them, washing away a centuries old curse.

This was not a fairytale because if it were, perhaps they wouldn’t have been by your side as you took in your last breath.

#demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #nanako’s blues #demon slayer x reader #kny x reader #hashiras x reader #mitsuri x reader #sanemi x reader #shinobu x reader #muichiro x reader #obanai x reader #tengen x reader #rengoku x reader #gyomei x reader #giyuu x reader

432 notes · View notes

dearmantis · 1 year

Text

A deal with a god

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova/The Darkling x fem!Reader

Summary: You arrive back in your rooms and try to figure out what to do before the General forces you to make a decision.

Warnings: manipulation, period-typical sexism, mentions of domestic abuse

Word Count: 3k

Authors' Note: Like two people asked for It all goes in vain to get a part 2 and that was months ago... and now it's a series because I have no self control. I was also asked to make Reader and Aleksander a power duo. I don't know if I'm good at writing power couples, but I will try. I also didn't edit this and English is not my native language.

Previous Part | Series Masterlist

The walk back to the Grand Palace clears your head a bit, your mind delightfully empty as you focus on not being caught sneaking around with a ruined dress and disheveled hair. Years of living in the palace have prepared you for this, but you still feel how the weight of the world drops from your shoulders as soon as the door to your room closes behind you.

Eyes moving to the clock on your desk, you realise with relief that your servants will come in around ten minutes, giving you some time to make sure your room looks like you spend the night here.

You beginn by moving your bed sheets around, before quickly skipping to the bowl you use to wash your face at night, dunking your hands into the cold water and scrubbing the bits of makeup the general missed off your face to make the water look more used. Grabbing a towel, you dry your skin and pull off your shoes, dropping them next to the bed.

At last you rip off your dress quickly, removing the many layers and leaving them on the floor before slipping into a simple robe and crawling into your bed, rolling yourself up in your blankets like a babe.

If you look pathetic enough, the servants will hopefully tell your parents that you're too exhausted from last nights celebration to eat with them. You will be allowed to spend the whole day up here in your room, waiting and preparing for the Darklings appearance.

You need this. You need the time to plan for the future, and you fear that you will loose this fire in you, this new awoken hope that you will find freedom, if you are forced to face your mother before you officially agree to work with the Shadow Summoner. That the guilt will swallow you whole and rip your strength away from you if you see her trusting, hopeful face before you officially agree to conspire with the grisha general against your own parents.

The reality of it all, of the fact that you are going to commit treason together with a descendant of the Black Heretic, hits you in the same moment the doors to your room swing open and your servants step in.

You do your absolute best to look as miserable and sick as humanly possible despite the realisation you just had, whining and complaining about the room being too bright, and everyone being too loud, until your servants finally give up.

"A princess should never be seen in such a state." One of the servants murmurs almost disappointed while she pulls the curtains in your room close. "Especially not by her betrothed. We will cover for you, your royal highness, and tell your mother that you got sick. I believe your brother is in the same state as you. Maybe that will distract her. Do you think you will be able to attend lunch?"

Shaking your head slowly, you watch as the other servants clean up the chaos you created, one of the girls leaving to get you a cup of tea. The mention of your brother makes you a bit sick. Nothing good ever happens when he's drunk, and you can only hope that your mother doesn't interpret your sudden illness as a sign that you're about to go down the same path that he has.

You're not the crown prince. She will not ignore your misbehaviour. No, she will try to get you back into shape to make sure you won't embarrass her.

A son can make as many mistakes as he wants. A daughter needs to be perfect.

"I think I won't even be able to come to dinner." You rasp, moving to bury your face in one of your many silk pillows. "I just want to be left alone today. No lessons, no visitors, no snacks or other meals. I want to see no one."

"Of course, your royal highness. We will make sure that no one disturbs you today." Another servant responds quietly.

You're in the middle of acting like you're falling asleep again when you suddenly remember something else. "I really can't stand all this noise... Lower the amount of guards around my quarters to a minimum for today, and don't bother coming back up to prepare me for bed tonight either. I will do it myself today."

A choir of "Of course, your royal highness." is the only answer you get before you sink back into your pillows and force yourself to slowly relax your muscles, refusing to move until the servant who got you tea returns with the steaming cup and all five women leave your quarters.

You stay on your bed like this for another few minutes until you finally feel safe enough to get up, taking a quick sip from your tea before quickly moving over to your desk.

It's too risky to write down notes, to put the information and ideas swirling around in your head on paper where other people can find them and figure out what you're doing, but you can at least sit at your desk and look at a few documents while you try to come up with a plan.

A safety net. That's what you need. And maybe the power of clairvoyance, just to make sure you don't end up making foolish mistakes like your bumbling idiot of a brother does, his mind too clouded by his own arrogance to see the effect his horrifying behavior has on others.

The most important question is why exactly the General wants to help you.

"It would give me a chance to make sure Ravka, my home, will be safe."

A sweet reason, sure. Honourable as well, and you don't doubt that that's probably part of his motivation, but the General doesn't seem stupid enough to commit treason for something like this. And how would stopping your marriage make Ravka a safer place?

You're the second born child of the king, sure, but you're also a woman. You wield no power. Why would a smart, ambitious man like the Darkling help you? Why not try to make your brother see that Grisha are people instead? That seems to be more effective. You don't understand how keeping you in the Grand Palace benefits him or the Second Army in any way.

There is no reason for him to help you, at least none that you can see.

"And what do you need to help me?"

"I will need you to fulfil your duty, moya tsarevna. You will have to pay a price in exchange for your freedom. You can not hesitate."

Biting down on your lower lip you shake your head weakly, forcing yourself to accept that you probably won't be able to uncover his real motive for helping you tonight. To many bits and pieces of information are missing for you to actually figure out his motive. You need to make plans for the possible failures ahead instead of wasting your time on a puzzle with missing parts.

Difficult, considering you don't know what the plan is yet, but sitting around and doing nothing would be stupid. And what if the Shadow Summoner decides that the risk of being executed for treason is too big for him? If he comes to the conclusion that helping you is not worth the effort? You need to prepare for that, too.

You have to come up with an idea of how to save yourself in Fjerda. How to be safe in the north or flee.

But flee to where? The wave of hopelessness that pushed you down before the whole thing with the General happened hits you once more, threatening to drown you if you don't come up with an idea quickly.

Ravka is not an option. Maybe the west, if you stay away from government officials and instead live life as a commoner, but even that would require a crossing of the fold and more luck than the saints are probably willing to give you.

Shu Han is not an option either. There is no way you could run from your future husbands home and then cross Ravka without being detected. Same problem with Kerch and the risk of being recognized there is even higher.

And successfully fleeing to Novyi Zem without being caught would require a miracle.

No, you can't make it to Fjerda. As soon as you're in the north, you're stuck in a place where you will never feel safe or happy.

A better option would be to fake your death before, during, or shortly after the wedding. Perhaps you could ally yourself with some Materialki and Corporalki as well, get them on board with faking your murder and getting you out of the castle. No one would look for you if all of Ravka thought their Princess was dead, after all.

Another problem you will have to keep in mind is the constant risk of being discovered if you choose to work with the Darkling. Sure, you will probably just get send off to Fjerda and cut off from your family forever, doomed to die in the north, away from your people and the ghosts and sins of your ancestors, but they will kill the General. They'll probably make you watch too, in hopes of teaching you a lesson.

You can't let that happen. Not to someone who has offered to safe you, even if he is only doing it to save his own skin in some way, or give himself more power, money, or whatever else he's after.

No. You have to plan to make sure you will both get out of the palace in case you get caught. But would he abandon the Grisha? Or would he prefer to go down kicking and screaming like a warrior instead of running like a child?

You know you prefer running, even if it means losing some of your pride and honour, because running means living and living means you can try again. You can fight another battle, attempt to make people see reason once more, and ensure that your ideas don't die with you.

The General doesn't seem like the type of person to share that mindset, though. He's a man through and through, and men like to do horrible and stupid things to force their opinions down other peoples throats. Like die the death of a martyr in hopes of someone else picking up the responsibility and finishing the fight for them.

If you want to save his life, you will probably have to kidnap him.

Groaning quietly you lean back in your chair and stare at the ceiling, trying to clear your mind a bit. There are so many variables in your future, so many what if's you have to prepare for, and you're still so exhausted from crying all night. Things have never been like this before. Most of your life you've played a side character to your brothers story, just like everyone has told you to do, as a woman, and second in the line of succession.

The most people ever say about you is that you're harmless, a delight to have around, and harmless delights simply don't go around scheming with the man everyone in Ravka, Fjerda and Shu Han is terrified of. They don't take fate into their own hands and fight back when people try to force a life they don't want onto them. All of this is new territory, and a part of you is mortified by the consequences of the possible failures ahead of you.

At least you managed to remove some of the guards from your wing of the palace without raising suspicion. Less trouble for the General to get to you. You've done something. A small first step taken before the real fight begins. It's an alright start for someone inexperienced.

You spend the rest of the day trying to do the impossible: Plan and prepare for the future. Predicting what will happen and how to react without losing track and getting confused with the dozens of what if's swirling around in your head like a vicious storm.

What will you do if your brother or mother find out?

What will you do if a servant notices what's going on?

What will you do if your betrothed realises what's happening? How could you protect the General from the wrath of a fjerdan royal? How could you protect yourself?

It's pitch black in your room when a knock finally frees you from your spiralling thoughts. For a few seconds you have trouble orienting yourself, confused about why it's so dark now, but before you get a chance to actually panic, another, louder knock on the door pulls you back to reality.

Quickly moving to light a small candle on your desk, you tighten the robe around your body and open the door to your quarters, motioning for the man waiting in front to step into your room. It's improper for anyone to see you in

The General is still fully dressed in his Kefta, his steps surprisingly light considering how heavy his boots look. He walks into your quarters slowly, gaze moving over your furniture and the small lonely candle on the table. your current state, especially a man, but it hardly matters considering what's ahead of you.

"Did I wake you, moya tsarevna?" He asks after you lock the door behind him, his voice calm and quiet as if he's trying to make sure that people passing your rooms won't hear his voice through the walls.

"Hmm? Oh, no. I was just thinking and lost track of the time."

"Thinking?"

He slowly turns back to you, one half of his face illuminated with the warm light of the candle while the other is hidden in the shadows. "I hope you didn't change your mind. It would be a shame for another strong woman like you to get lost in the north."

You can feel a muscle in your jaw tighten as you take his words in. He should wish for you to change your mind and leave him alone. This whole plan, whatever it may be, will probably be more dangerous to him than to you. Why isn't he hoping you changed your mind and accepted your fate?

"No, no. I didn't change my mind. I'm willing to do whatever you need me to."

Taking a deep breath, you step closer to the middle of the room, closer to him, your eyes moving to the calm, glowing candle flame. You can still feel his gaze burning on your skin.

"I was born in this palace. I learned how to speak and walk here. This is my home. Nobody, not even my horrible, despicable betrothed, should be able to drag me out of here." You declare calmly.

Your gaze finds his once more, his eyes somehow darker than the night sky outside, and you can feel your nails dig into the soft flesh of your palms.

"My whole life I was taught that it's my duty to serve my country and my people. I can not do that when I'm in Fjerda. I can not protect or help anyone there. I have no power there. I need your help, General."

The storm of thoughts, of what-if's and why's, gets louder as you look at him, almost consuming you, but the visible pride in the Shadow Summoners eyes grounds you just enough, reassures you that things will be alright. He will keep his promise and make sure that you stay in the Grand Palace safe and sound until you die.

"Tell me what to do, Aleksander. I am willing to pay the price."

He smiles. There is nothing friendly or soft in the expression, only glee and satisfaction, but for some reason you're not as scared of him as you probably should be.

You're not a stupid girl that's falling for the lies of an older man. You know what you're getting into. You will be prepared for anything he might throw at you. This is your home after all, and while the General has experience with your father and the general politics of Ravka, with the complicated rules of war, he is definitely not familiar with the game you've been stuck playing.

He doesn't know your betrothed, barely cares for your mother, and has always been dismissive of your brother despite the fact that he will be on the throne in a few years. The only player he has ever paid attention to is you, and that's a recent development. He only cares now because he seems to believe you can give him something.

You know the rules better than he does, and if you don't pay attention to his plans and schemes, to his end goal, he will mess up and drag you both down. It's his job to manipulate and trick others and yours to clean and cover up. A perfect team.

"I'm glad to hear that you trust me, moya tsarevna. I promise I won't fail you."

He holds his hand out slowly, and for a few seconds you simply look at it. His hand is large, with long fingers and small scars covering the pale skin that shimmer in the weak light of the candle.

Taking his hand means treason. It means betraying your parents and, in the same breath, your country. It means making Fjerda your enemy. It means covering your hands with the blood that sticks to the Darklings hands. It means paying a price he refuses to name. It means trusting darkness itself.

This would be the riskiest, dumbest thing you've ever done. It would be like begging to be caught and punished by your parents. And what would your betrothed do if he found out his future wife conspired with the Darkling to escape him? He would kill you for that. Beat you until you're nothing but a bleeding lump of flesh on the floor with no one to grieve you left in the world after you betrayed everyone who loved you.

You grab Aleksanders hand.

#aleksander morozova x reader #darkling x reader

235 notes · View notes

the-far-bright-center · 9 months

Text

There's a fundamental disconnect between my view of Star Wars and that of, well.... the majority of the SW fandom these days. Whether this is due to lingering disdain for the Prequels (despite fandom claims of acceptance, there's still plenty of prequels-hate going around, it's just taken on a different guise) or the constant onslaught of Disney’s big-budget fanfic muddying the waters, or a combination of both, I don’t know.

But ultimately, it's quite simple. I view 'Star Wars' as the Skywalker saga...aka the six-film Lucas saga, which tells the story of Anakin Skywalker's rise, fall, and redemption. I don't personally see 'Star Wars' as some ongoing, open-ended franchise that can or even should have indefinite *canonical* additions to it. (An optional expanded universe is one thing, but additions that we, as fans, are just supposed to accept as canon without question because Disney says so is another thing entirely.) Because 'Star Wars' is not just some cinematic universe that exists for its own sake. The fact is, almost the entirety of the world-building from the Lucas-era was done in service of the story and characters of the Original Trilogy and the Prequels. The galaxy far, far away was created specifically to be the backdrop for the Skywalker saga.

So when people debate topics like ‘pro-Jedi’ vs. ‘Jedi critical’, I’m often unable to relate to the angle that these discussions take because I feel like they are largely missing the point. Story-wise, the Jedi don’t exist for their own sake, they (along with the Jedi vs. Sith struggle) are simply part of the mythic backstory of the saga. As a concept, the Jedi exist primarily to serve Anakin and Luke’s respective journeys. So, the Jedi Order of the Prequels-era is written as having become rigid and flawed because that is the necessary context for Anakin’s fall to the Dark Side. And likewise, Luke bringing Anakin back to the Light through the power of love and familial bonds is what rectifies the Old Order’s failings and thus restores the Jedi to the galaxy.

That's just... the story. As in, how it was told. So when I write meta about the Prequels and Original Trilogy, and how they work together as one story, my descriptions and interpretations of both the Jedi Order and the Jedi religion (these are related but not exactly the same thing) are simply neutral in my mind. I'm just talking about what the story is trying to convey. I can't relate to this idea that we must leap to the Jedi Order's defense, nor the converse, that we must condemn the Jedi eternally for having lost their way by the time of the Twilight of the Republic. Rather, I step outside of the story for a moment, and look from the outside in to try to see what is happening from that perspective.

I'm not sure that everyone in the fandom is willing or even able to do that.

Whether that is because very few people actually appreciate the Skywalker saga as Lucas told it to begin with (many people still loudly proclaim that 'Star Wars sucks!', which leads me to believe they must not value the core story at its heart), or they have been so confused by the Disney nonsense that they think the 'new canon' has automatically overridden any meaning that once existed in the PT x OT saga...again, I don't know. I have purposefully tried very hard to stay away from any Disney-related SW discussions for years now, so this is just all what I've gleaned from glimpses here and there.

But it seems to me that many SW fans have trouble accepting that the concept of the Jedi (and the Sith) are inextricably linked to the Skywalker saga and the Skywalker saga alone. These things would never have been created in the way they were without that story. But to acknowledge this would means fans have to accept how central Anakin is to the entire thing. All of it exists for Anakin's story. There are fans who don't like this for a slew of reasons, whether it be that they became attached to a certain idea of the Jedi based on how they were portrayed in Expanded Universe stories that came out during the interim between RotJ and the release of the Prequels (stories that were largely jossed by Lucas' canon), or because they hate Anakin for in-story reasons and have never been able to accept that Star Wars is about him whether they like it or not.

It certainly doesn't help that Disney has played into this discomfort by largely ignoring Anakin (at least, until fan-demand forced their hand) or even outright denying his importance to the story as Lucas told it. (Anakin is the Chosen One whether Disney or fans want him to be or not. Being the Chosen One is not about whether he 'deserves' it, it's literally just his role in the story. And Lucas' saga simply doesn't work without Anakin in the central role.) If fans are confused and disoriented these days, I can't entirely blame them. Disney's version of SW doesn't 'match' the Lucas saga and in many places outright contradicts it. But everything can easily be made clear if people step back (and put aside the Disney stuff for a moment) and just look at the actual story being told in the PT and OT. Likewise, any debates about the Jedi can easily be resolved in the same way. It's really not about how much fans like the Jedi as a group or as individual characters, or how much fans might wish they could be a Jedi themselves. It's about the role the Jedi play in the story, and it's about acknowledging whose story it really is.

#anakin skywalker #anti-disney #the jedi religion #the jedi order #the prequels #original trilogy #pro-Lucas saga #the skywalker saga #the real skywalker saga

70 notes · View notes

alex-procrastinates · 2 months

Text

my thoughts on the magic potion

HELLO i am so sorry i havent done any finished art in ages. school is kicking my ass and probably will continue to kick my ass for a while yet, but i promise i am working on things! and i am very excited to get them finished! im just swamped with homework and kinda suck at time management lol

but in the meantime, i have a 17 page google doc where i put all my asterix headcanons when i think of them, so i thought i would share my ideas about how the magic potion works :D

The potion is said to increase someone’s strength tenfold. That means it only builds on the strength they already have.

This means the potion will work differently for different people, based on their original level of strength.

For most people, they have about the same average strength, so the potion will appear to have the same effect on them. This is also due to the fact that the potion is simply so powerful that everyone who drinks it is insanely strong relative to non-potion drinkers. However, in some cases, the differences are noticeable.

For example, Fulliautomatix would have more brute strength than, say, Cacofonix, when on the potion. Or Asterix would be able to run faster than Geriatrix when on the potion.

The potion builds on strengths the person already has - for Asterix, it makes him extremely fast, as he is already agile and a fast runner without it. For Cacofonix, it allows his voice to create more powerful soundwaves, which can even have physical effects.

(Edit: As pointed out by @elkaos, this actually conflicts with some of the books, where the potion is shown to have the same effect on everyone, and that's relevant to the plot in some cases. I did sort of know this, but it slipped my mind somewhat while I was writing this post. So I guess I'll have to retcon either this idea or the events of books 3 and 12 from my headcanon. These headcanons are based on my own interpretation of Asterix, which is inspired by a lot of fanfics and other creators' ideas as well as the books. Personally I find the idea of the potion's effects varying from person to person more logical, as it's described as multiplying the drinker's strength tenfold. Although maybe the effect being the same has something to do with how it was developed? I've seen a fic where the secret ingredient of the potion is Vercingetorix's ashes - maybe it's something like that where the essence of a person is used in the potion and its effect is equivalent to that person's strength multiplied tenfold.)

The potion also increases a person’s durability - their bones, ligaments, tendons, organs and muscles are stronger and more resistant to damage. This is necessary to make sure that they don’t injure themselves by doing things like punching solid rock.

Even if they do get injured, which can happen when they are faced with sharp blades, the potion also fills their system with adrenaline, which means they usually don’t feel and are not really affected by most injuries until after the potion wears off.

The potion also increases the drinker’s stamina and speed, although this also varies depending on the drinker’s non-potion-enhanced abilities.

Obelix is a special case. But why exactly did drinking a whole cauldron of potion make it have a permanent effect on him? The potion’s effects can’t be stacked by drinking more potion while you’re already under the effects.

I suppose the quantity of potion does matter when determining how long the effects will last - the more potion is flowing through the drinker’s bloodstream, the longer it will take to dilute enough to not have an effect anymore.

Wait. If the potion flows through the drinker’s bloodstream, then how does it have an immediate effect? Digesting it would take at least a few hours.

I guess it might have some magical property that lets it sort of phase into any blood vessels it encounters? So maybe it just radiates out from the stomach, gets to the heart really quickly and starts being pumped around the body almost immediately.

So if Obelix drinks, like, his entire body weight in potion, it’s probably going to last long enough in a large enough quantity to spread and be infused into practically every part of his body, so that then his bone marrow actually starts to make potion-infused blood.

Therefore, every cell that blood flows to, which is basically every cell in his body, is enhanced by the potion, so it becomes an actual part of his biological composition. His blood, muscles, organs, bone marrow, fat, saliva, even his stomach acid is infused with magic potion. The only things that aren’t are his hair and nails.

This is why the permanent effects of the potion are so important to his survival. There would have been a couple of years where they could have gotten it to wear off, but that would probably have involved bloodletting or something, and obviously they’re not going to do that to a six-year-old kid. It doesn’t cause him any adverse effects, anyway, so it’s not something that needs to be reversed. He’ll just have to learn to control his strength.

He wasn’t the strongest before he fell into the potion, but because of how the potion became an actual part of his muscle tissue, he was still able to grow his muscles like a normal person would - just with much heavier weights, like menhirs. Which he has probably been lifting and carrying nearly every day since about his mid-teens. Also because the potion is part of his bone marrow and the blood his body makes is naturally infused with the potion, it creates a sort of positive feedback loop where the effects of the potion, and therefore his strength, keep increasing. This is why he seems to be stronger than the other villagers on the potion, and why his feats of strength increase in magnitude across the series, until Chariot Race when he’s able to catch the huge lump of volcanic rock that explodes out of Mt Vesuvius.

The potion also increased his durability to a very high level. His bones are as hard as granite, and his skin is also quite thick and resistant to cuts. He can still get hurt, but it takes a lot, and almost never happens. This is also why he is so mobile and flexible despite being obese.

Obelix is a bit of an extreme case, but for everyone who drinks the potion regularly (mostly just Asterix and maybe some of the other warriors, hunters or guards), it speeds up their metabolism considerably in order to provide them with the large quantities of energy they need to function while on the potion. This is how Asterix is able to eat most of a boar nearly twice his size. (Although that was pushing it and he usually doesn’t need that much energy.)

The potion does not actively heal wounds except in the very short term, when it can exacerbate the effect of adrenaline to such an extent that it will completely heal minor to moderately serious wounds if taken within about a minute after sustaining the injury. However, it does give the body more energy, enabling it to heal faster. It also helps the immune system fight infection and the body to remake lost blood.

It won’t cure concussions, but it does get rid of them faster and reduces long-term damage. (This is how Asterix can have had no less than six concussions in the space of a few years and not feel any lasting effects.)

Chronic illnesses and fatigue can be treated, but not cured by the potion. It unfortunately doesn't help with nerve pain, because there's no wound for it to help heal or inflammation/ bacteria/ etc. for it to fight.

Over time, this will cause regular potion drinkers to have stronger immune systems and heal more quickly. (Cacofonix still gets sick easily, but without the potion he’d probably have been dealing with asthma or an autoimmune disease. Obelix still gets hay fever in spring, but I guess maybe the potion doesn’t help with allergies. He does sometimes get mild colds and stuff, but the potion protects him from a lot of more serious diseases.)

The potion also increases a drinker’s core body temperature slightly and makes it easier to maintain, which is how all the Gauls can walk around in the snow either in sleeveless tops or just straight up shirtless, with only maybe a scarf or gloves to keep them warm. This effect also lingers over time if you drink the potion regularly. (Or if you’re Obelix. He’s like a walking heater.)

In Asterix the Gaul, we see the Gauls take potion regularly and use their strength for everyday tasks. This is because they used to take potion in shifts, so that some people would always be ready to go fight the Romans if they attacked. Doing chores while on the potion was just an added convenience. (As I speculated earlier, the potion lasts longer if you drink more of it, so maybe they used to drink more potion with each dose to make it last longer - maybe half or even a full day.)

This seemed like a great strategy until one day, a new centurion decided to attack the village at an unexpected time. The people who were on the potion went out to fight, but Asterix's potion wore off mid-battle. Not realising in time, he got into a fight with the centurion and ended up getting pretty badly hurt. (Inspired by this post - I came up with this idea while I was thinking about what might have happened in that scenario)

After that, they decided to just take the potion when needed to prevent something like it happening again. This also enabled Getafix to spend more time experimenting with new potions because he wasn’t making the strength potion every day.

so yeah! that's all i got. thanks so much if you read this whole thing. hopefully i'll have time to finish something else soon :D

#asterix #asterix headcanons #headcanons #alex's rambles

19 notes · View notes