#resolve defects

[miirshroom]

An Alternate Perspective on the Relationship between Godrick, Godefroy and Godwyn

" ...Indeed. But remember one thing. The demigods are each and all the direct offspring of Queen Marika. Godrick the Grafted was but a distant relation... The runt of the litter, his divine blood sorely diluted" - Finger Reader Enia

There is an apparent contradiction in the above statement. Enia says that all demigods are the children of Marika and then uses the phrase "distant relation" for Godrick. Many interpret this to mean he is a distant descendant. I think there is evidence to the contrary.

These lines are said after the first Great Rune was obtained, apparently regardless of whether Godrick is the first defeated as I got this dialogue after defeating Radahn first. So either Enia assumes that we bring Godrick's Rune (she is blind after all), or the "was" is a descriptor of Godrick's social status before obtaining his great rune, as least renowned of the demigods.

But then again the following line does say that Godrick is the "runt of the litter" for which in animals like dogs and cats "litter" is a term typically used for a set of offspring from the same mother. And taking a broad look at the overall themes of the game there is a much more literal meaning to the phrase "divine blood sorely diluted": Grafting. With all those additional limbs grafted on, proportionately how much of Godrick's original blood remains? The phrase "DEMIGOD FELLED" pops up when Godrick is defeated, calling back to Enia's explicit phrasing "the demigods are each and all Marika's direct offspring".

To more precisely determine the meaning, I have examined the Japanese text. As it happens, most of the characters in this phrase are Kanji adapted from the Chinese writing system:

遠い子孫 (commonly read as "Distant descendant")

遠い - (tōi)

1. distant, far away 2. unfriendly, keep away 3. estranged

子孫 - (shison)

1. descendant 2. scion

子 - (shi/zǐ)

1. son 2. child 3. rat (context: earthly branch of zodiac) 4. small object / seed

孫 - (sūn)

1. son (left half) + continue (right half)

Interesting that one of the interpretations is "unfriendly scion" considering that Godrick is also associated with Grafted Scions.

"...This Great Rune is known as the anchor ring, found in the center of the Elden Ring.

The first demigods were The Elden Lord Godfrey and his offspring, the golden lineage." - Godrick's Great Rune

Again, the word "offspring" is used for the relationship between Godfrey and the Golden Lineage. In the opposite case to 子孫, "offspring" is almost universally used to refer to direct children but could refer to descendants including grandchildren in general in legal terms. Which returns right back to the conclusion that language means different things depending on context. Which I think is itself a hint. 子孫 is accepted to commonly mean "descendant" - it would have been so easy to simply have Enia call Godrick a distant descendant as this would also confirm that calling the Golden Lineage Godfrey's offspring is encompassing grand-children, great grand-children, etc. That she doesn't would mean that "descendant" is the wrong translation.

And there's one other piece to this puzzle: Godefroy. Trapped in an Evergaol and apparently unaccounted for when Kenneth Haight calls Godrick the "last of the Golden Lineage". In which "last" can simply mean last remaining (recall that Mohg and Morgott being part of the Golden Lineage is secret) and not last chronologically. Godefroy is not called a demigod upon defeat which seems to indicate something about the nature of the mysterious Evergaols more than anything else - they represent something like disownment.

Regardless, the main flaw in considering Godefroy some kind of missing link in a lineage between Godwyn to the "distant relation" Godrick is that there is only one named women connected to the Golden Lineage. Only Marika. In a game with so much emphasis on lineage this seems a peculiar oversight. Especially given that the game even sees fit to mention that a Finger Reader served as wet nurse to royalty.

In conclusion: the phrase "distant relation" is a polite way of saying that Godrick was Marika's "estranged rat son" who became relevant again when Great Runes were being claimed. There is reason to believe that Godrick, Godefroy, and Godwyn should be considered as having the relationship of brothers.

three blind rats enroute to the Ulcerated Tree Spirit under Stormveil

[anonymusical]

i have spent the past three workdays resolving various prod defects and i'm starting to worry that i'm becoming important at work

[sleeplessdreamer14]

𝓌𝒽𝑒𝓃 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓀𝓃𝑜𝓌 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓀𝓃𝑜𝓌

fandom: gravity falls

relationship: stanford pines x reader

summary: the moment Ford realized he liked you. 

contains: stan being stan, the uh-oh moment, and pining

Ford wasn’t the most social person, to put it plainly. Despite his popularity amongst his teachers at school and the odd handful of classmates, he normally preferred his own company, otherwise his family’s. It had been that way for a long time, and it seemed like it would remain so for the foreseeable future.

And so it did. That is, until he met you, which he did not see coming. 

You had this welcoming presence about you, that much was clear by the way you spoke to him for the first time in the seventh grade, remaining mostly unfazed by his sixth digit aside from the initial surprise. The first time he caught himself rambling about parapsychology and anomalistics, he found no judgment or disinterest in your expression. In fact, you were actually listening, setting down whatever you were doing just to give him your undivided attention. That was a first. It felt nice to have someone (who wasn’t his brother or mother) listen to him. 

And the energy was returned, as he indulged your interests too. Before he knew it, Ford would often seek out your company, whether his brother was available or not, and the two of you could usually be found bouncing ideas off of each other. The room seemed to brighten when you came into view, your presence made him feel comfortably warm inside. Whenever you two parted ways, it always felt too soon, just like it did now.

“Oh my gosh.”

Stan’s voice drew Ford’s attention away from you as you left.

“What?” he asked, mildly perturbed by the wily grin on his brother’s face. Stan just chuckled and nudged him, “You’ve got it so bad, it’s almost embarrassing.” he teased, to which Ford lightly shoved him away, beginning their route back home from the pier. 

“Stanley, come on. They’re my friend just as they are yours. They’re good company.” he said, glancing off to the side, as if that could conceal the rosy pink hue on his face, but Stan remained undeterred. “Sixer, face it. You’re whipped with a capital wh-pshh!” he said, smacking one hand with his other for emphasis. 

“I am not- look, [Name] is very kind and a good friend, I appreciate that. It’s not like I lie awake at night thinking about them.”

Several hours later, it was well past nightfall and everyone in the Pines household was fast asleep, save Ford. 

Up on the top bunk, he laid on his back, hands folded over his midriff as his chest heaved slowly and his heart thrummed steadily beneath its surface. That warmth was still present, especially around his face. His conversation with Stanley had been playing on loop all evening.

Of course Ford liked you, heck, he was crazy about you. You were so nice to him and fun to be around, your enthusiasm was so endearing, and you never treated his abnormalities as though they were defects.

And you weren’t bad to look at either, of course, like earlier that afternoon on the boardwalk when the sun’s light highlighted your features. He could stare at you for hours. The way you diminished his resolve just by looking his way and smiling at him was so positively-

Oh.

Oh. 

“Oh no.”

Ford could just faintly hear a sleepy chuckle from his brother in the bunk below him. 

if this gets enough notes I’ll write a part 2

[angelesca]

w.c. ~5k hooooly balllls | game system au! phainon x npc!gnreader, short stories, in da clerb, we all fam with the amphoreus cast, puppy phainon yippee, bantering with the game system, trying to avoid raising phainon's affection points but failing horribly💖reader has a lil' nickname ('moonlight'), goofy antics ofc ofc, finally some physical contact (it's a good day), written during ver.3.0! (forgive me for any poor characterisations!) [𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐯𝐨𝐥𝐮𝐦𝐞𝐬]: 1 ┃ 2 ┃...

a/n: here i am again with another stupid idea (who is surprised). okay but the nymph emoticons lit a lightbulb in my head and BAM i gave birth a second child. drew inspo from [svsss], [orv], and [villains are destined to die]!

!!! disclaimer (read me) !!! in the game, there's no night in okhema city (as of writing this), but in this fic it happens! it's explained as best as my dumb brain could^^

“what… the… fudge.” you stare at the system pop-up, almost drooling from how long you’ve had your mouth open in disbelief.

marmoreal market. amphoreus’s civilians walk by you as if you are a passing breeze. in their sphere of natural time flowing, you are stuck with defective clockwork, unmoving in the present reality. what was once a screen of predictable code on your gaming device, is now alive. 

this must be a dream, an illusion drifting by in your head. it's that damn phone, isn't it? you need to stop staying up all night reading fanfic.

you shut your eyes.

…

… ping!

…?

groggily, you open your eyes. in front of you is the perpetrator:

[ヽ(o＾▽＾o) hi~]

angrily, you press the ‘x’ button and close it.

[ what's that for?! (ﾉಥ益ಥ)ﾉ ]

you mash your finger on the blue window repeatedly, poking the emoticon in the eye. “you did this to me, didn't you? you kidnapper!” your voice is brimming with fear, overflowing with confusion.

[ WHAAAAT?! (凸ಠ益ಠ)凸 just hear me out- ow! i’ll help you! and stop poking my eye already! yeowch! my nostril! ☆(＃××) ]

pausing, you take a deep breath. the gazes of alert onlookers are beginning to settle goosebumps on your skin. there’s not much that can be done for now, honestly, your best bet is to place some faith on this mysterious system. “... what do you want with me?” you whisper in the lowest volume your anger would allow.

[ hehe~ (o´▽`o) ] you don’t like that expression at all. [ it’s exactly as i’ve told you from the start: become the main character of the newest update in honkai star rail, amphoreus! ] (this is not an advertisement)

“nah.” unamused, you walk through the window which shatters dramatically.

[ (°ロ°) hah? ] 

you scoff. the troublesome titankin? unending side quests and puzzles? responsibilities? fighting a literal god? who the hell wants to do all that? clenching your fist, resolve reconstructs your confidence. and you definitely don't want to listen to an annoying emoticon who forced you here. “i… will live quietly as an npc!” don't let the system have their way!

[ HAAAaAH???! Σ(ﾟ口ﾟ;) ]

you find your 88th chest of the day. it's pretty much stealing yet no one bats an eye, do amphoreus civilians also happen to offer customary welcomes for robbers in their houses? at least you are adapting to the world quickly given your game knowledge.

[ surprised you haven't encountered any enemies this past month. usually, the mc has to do some fighting... ┐(￣ヘ￣;)┌ ] is what the system said. guess the npc life was made for you.

when you open your 88th chest, you immediately regret it. a purple void cleaves the air and a familiar character dives out. it emotes cheekily, swooping the chest like an eagle to prey. “teehee~ this is mine now!”

[ that’s bartholos the spirit thief. ( ° ∀ ° )ﾉﾞ] [ new achievement: 'meeting bartholos!' ]

bartholos, spirit thief. distasteful memories rewind their tape in your head. the anger you felt seeing this thief pop up, doing the tedious minigame... fury untethered, its primordial tides stirs the previously calm waters of your mind. [ -75 sanity... ]

“... you lil’ flappin’ shirthead. i will rip your throa buy you a lovely necklace and stew you cook you my favourite stew!” 

[ bartholos is confused! ]

“you fu***** bi** sh****** p******* **@^*)>{“£$^*!!!!!” [ OMG! the system can’t keep up with the filtering! ｏ(＞＜；)○ ] “*****pots clanging*****cats meowing*****???***more farting***??”

[ shots fired! it's extremely effective! ]

“o-o-okay! geez, take it… ” bartholos drops the chest, hands in the air. “damn, is it that serious?”

[ w-what kind of npc are you? ( : ౦ ‸ ౦ : ) ]

"what do you mean?" you pant, "that was totally npc-like." rule #1 in 'the npc survival handbook': gotta make a living somehow.

[ oh, there's an injured pers- don't just ignore them! (ᗒᗣᗕ)՞ ]

you had just passed by a dark alley, genuinely not having noticed someone laying there because of the night shadows. and not because you were stuffing your face with sagelore fruit. rolling your eyes, you say, "pay me (nom nom)."

[ huhu (μ_μ) you're so cruel... ]

you cock an eyebrow. "and who forced me here (muffle muffle)?"

[ new side quest: 'be a good person!' ] [ reward: 1500 credits ]

squinting, you read it over - the reward is quite hefty? rule #1 resounds in your head: 'gotta make a living somehow'. retracing your steps, you decide to investigate the shrouding darkness, fingers tracing along the walls.

[ take this! ψ( ` ∇ ´ )ψ ]

your foot catches onto a stray object. "huh?!" the ground slips beneath you and gravity is pulling you by the hand. fortunately, you land on top of something. a solid hand is placed on your lower back, having caught your fall.

analysing whatever it is, you recognise its familiarity: white hair, heroic armour, long cape... oh. oh. oh no. oh nonononono. [ oh yes (≖ ͜ʖ≖) ]

rule #2 in the 'npc survival handbook': do not get involved with the chrysos heirs. you gulp. "yo, i'm outta here-"

[ new mainline quest! complete the scenario to advance~ ]

"you littl-" [ violation of system rule #87: do not speak out of character ] "wha-"

[ please choose out of the following options]:

[ i love you! ]

[ let's arrange a marriage NEOW (charisma check) ]

[ if you and i were socks, we'd make a great pair! ]

your eyes could pop out of their socket. what is the system trying to do here? worst wingman in history! without meaning to, you choose the secret fourth option: silence. you awkwardly stare at each other. [ he is confused! ] [ hehe~ okay, i'll stop~ (o^ ^o) that was fun ]

"you shouldn't be here," a serrated voice, sawing into your ears, slices through the stiff silence.

[ 'ooc' turned on ] you feel your throat clear, recclaiming your words. "yes, i agree." you nod your head enthusiastically. "i should be home, cosy in bed." [ oh, come on (￢_￢) ]

"haven't you noticed it's night time?"

"uh," you crook your head up. "i did[n't]." now that he mentioned it, no one else was awake in ohkema city, as if in hiding.

"then please find somewhere safe," he pushes himself up with ripened strength. "it's dangerous to-" he winces. you back away, searching for the site of cause. blood is pooling on his abdomen.

you didn't expect him to be in such a state. how many enemies was he fighting off? glass fiddles in your pockets, reminding you of your spoils. hurriedly, you hand him a health potion that you definitely did not steal. then, painkillers, disinfectant, and so on.

he asks quizically, "how do you have so many things in your pockets?"

"don't worry about it." just videogame things innit. silently, you tend to his wounds though your effort is clumsy.

he looks up at you. his hand timidly ghosts along the road of your working arm, driving closer and closer, as if he's navigated it before. a familiarity that suggests crossed trajectories, but with the way you avoid his eyes, the paths quickly rupture back into parallel lines.

ping! [ new achievement: 'meeting phainon' ] [ phainon's affection +1! ]

you had to repel phainon, but he's strongly magnitised. it's been a few days like this and you don't know why - it's not like you have dog food in your pockets.

"so, what do you do for a living?" oh no, he's is showing interest and his imaginary dog tail is wagging.

your mind blanks. it's not like you can tell him you steal chests and spit bars at bartholos. that'd be a prison speedrun. "i... i'm a professional npc..." [ great impression (￣_￣) ] you groan at the system message.

he tilts his head, curiousity shining in his eyes. "en... pee... sea?"

"uhhh," you falter. then, a lightbulb. wait, wouldn't this is be a good opportunity to change his impression of you—for the worse? anymore association with a chrysos heir is basically a life sentence to becoming the mc, right? "... i," you tinker with your head. "... i sniff armpits..." [ ... my ears hurt (¯ . ¯;) ]

phainon can only smile stiffly. "ahaha?" [ phainon is... intrigued? what's with this guy ] [ phainon's affection +1!(?) ]

... that did not work. rule #3 of 'the npc survival handbook': don't draw attention to yourself (failed).

another day in your life...

"do you know about the other chrysos heirs?" phainon asks, carrying your haul of limited edition honeycakes. [ w(°ｏ°)w finally, the plot is moving! ]

"no," you refuse adamantly, "and i don't want to know because it's too much exposition to listen with no skip butt-"

"hello..."

you jump. "wah?!" the girl bloomed by death's hand studies you, her dark circles accentuating her eyes.

a deep voice thrusts himself in. "are you phainon's new sparring partner? hmph."

"the new traveller? you must be the one the threads were whispering about... why don't we have a chat later?"

"we welcome you to ohkema! isn't it great?!"

"isn't it great...?"

"isn't it great? hmph."

[ isn't it great? ＼(＾▽＾)／]

why in kephale's name is every chrysos heir suddenly here? is this a family gathering or what? it's like you're meeting your in-laws, ready to get their blessings for phainon's hand in marriage.

[ your future husband ] phainon smiles warmly. "well, now you know them." [ handsome as always (＾་།＾) ] [ new achievement: 'meeting the family!' ]

"do you want to embalm a corpse with me...?"

"are you really phainon's sparring partner? come, let me test your prowess in battle."

both of your sides are occupied. along with a tall puppy, there's also a purple butterfly and a tabby cat apparently [ ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა ]. "don't you guys have to save the world?"

castorice nods slowly. "indeed... finding thanatos, i hope to recover my past too..."

mydei crosses his arms. "of course i want to defeat nikador and return to castrum kremnos one day. but who says heroes don't need rest?"

"and you both decided to spend it with me of all people?"

"phainon mentions you a lot... we simply wanted to see for ourselves," castorice replies, "should we invite tribbie too?"

"please don't," you shrug your shoulders. "i'm only an npc, nothing to see here." [ are you sure about that? 🤨 ] suddenly, emojis?

"en-piii-she...?" castorices points a finger to her lip.

"em... piss... cee? what's that?" mydei lifts an eyebrow.

you were not gonna answer that again. [ castorice's affection +1! ] [ mydei's affection +1! ]

in the distance, threads begin to murmur a song. the dressmaster's fingers weave through her strings, strumming each one to orchestrate amphoreus’s future stage.

aglaea’s eyebrows dip. tribbie's ears opened at the first note, wary. "the threads are strained..."

[ (＠＾◡＾) ~ ] "phainon, dearie, how have you been?"

[ ヽ(・∀・)ﾉ ] "phainon, come look at the fresh fruit!"

phainon, is admittedly very popular, a stark contrast to you, like day and night. "how do you have so much energy to interact?" you question.

phainon is now petting a large dog, wearing a large grin when the dog licks his face. in your eyes, they are a pair of twins playing with each other. "i think it just comes naturally. it's a part of my duty to the citizens."

duty. the word is tiresome in your head. you crouch down, rubbing the large dog's fur. "then, is there anything you want to do for yourself?"

"oh..." he trails off, stealing a glance at you. the steady waves in phainon's eyes shine blue, finding your reflection in them on his horizon. "there are many things i'd love to do. you know, i'm jealous of you." [ (╬`益´) HE'S LYING-! ] you press the mute button.

"what do you mean?"

sunlight perches itself on top of his head, kissing the crown of his head like a tender mother to born babe. you feel your breath being stolen. he is surely nature's revered child. "i hope to be as free as you someday, doing whatever i want," he says (he doesn't know about the chest-stealing, does he?). a face steeled from suffering, regret, and past mistakes, smelts under your warm gaze. if you were to lift his lips up with your fingers, you would find it malleable without resistance. "away from all the chrysos heir business - it gets stressful at times."

your heart skips, understanding. beneath the exterior of a hero is someone who wants to live like every other ordinary person. your heart skips one more time, hearing how you could inspire a chase for freedom in him. [ your understanding of phainon has deepened ] an unsuspecting heat runs laps across your cheeks. you both wave goodbye to the dog. "so... you want to be an npc too?"

"n-p-c," phainon recounts, "an armpit sniffer?" he teases.

"nevermind." unconciously, you brush away the strands of hair obscuring phainon's eyes, taming his fur. his eyebrows lift, eyes radiant. ears redden. "ah..." a timid disappointment when you stop, fluffy ears drooping.

silently, you think the conversation over. duty... is that what creates purpose? should you find one too? does an npc need to think this extensively? perhaps this is a part of you speaking, begging to fit in with this foreign world.

freedom and obligation. can't both co-exist?

one day, you're haggling at the market stalls, firing words no one could understand. [ phainon's affection +1! ]

another day, you're falling off the dromases every minute. phainon watched you get strapped to the saddle with rope when all else failed. [ phainon's affection +1! ]

today, you ate agalae's stock of afternoon tea desserts. [ phainon's affection +1 ]

and tomorrow, you'll ask castorice and mydei to fight to the death to settle the philosophical dilemma of the 'unstoppable force vs. immovable object'. you told him of your evil plans. [ phainon's affection +1 ]

"uh, can you stop doing that?" you turn towards the human-sized dog behind you. [ phainon's affection +1 ]

phainon stops in his tracks. "doing what?"

you point at him. [ phainon's affection +1 ] "... nevermind." you give up. it's a bit endearing, honestly. you've come to appreciate his presence accompanying you. a small smile plays on your lips. [ phainon's affection +10!!! ] ..?

[ new mainline quest! 'chat with aglaea.' ]

that's was a great start to your morning; the deafening system alarm was a nice touch. you threw a fist at the pop-up, annoyed. [ this is abuse!! (ಥ﹏ಥ) ]

so now, you are in the bathhouse with aglaea [ and me! (*ˊᗜˋ*) ]. she slides a thick envelope across the table you were both sitting at.

hesitantly, you take it under her inspective gaze. apprehension takes root in your guts. you open the envelope. [ 7-7-7 TRILLION CREDITS??!! =͟͟͞͞(꒪ᗜ꒪‧̣̥̇) ] you look up at her, stunned. you only know how to mutter her name, "aglaea...?"

"i urge you to take it and travel far away," she explains, tapping the table with her finger. "the strife titan is closer than ever and amphoreus is losing itself to dark nights due to the black tide. yet, phainon is distracted at this crucial moment." the tapping stops. "and i suspect you are the cause of his straying mind."

you point at yourself, disbelieving [ (⊙_⊙) ☜ ? ]. "me?" you've seen this in dramas before - the part where the mother-in-law bribes her son's partner. you could almost laugh at the comparison. realistically, you would choose the money...

"-but that's not up to you," you frown, remembering yesterday. "phainon can choose what he wants to do."

you have come to understand each other, yes, the stars are re-writing your definitions - phainon, the great warrior who yearns for a quiet life, pledging to his one moon, and you, an outsider who went as they pleased yet also wanted to belong. if aglaea is to deny his longing desires, then it is to deny your existence.

"don't make me laugh," aglaea reprimands sternly. the threads in the air are tense, ready to cut. your throat cinches. "freedom is something we gave up long ago to devote ourselves to amphoreus's amity." a pained expression fades within a split second.

a heaviness spears into you, weighing you down. you look at your feet. she is right, but you can't help but feel pierced into. silence reigns the air.

ping! [ hey! (눈_눈) ] you look up. [ what are you doing right now? ]

...? [ you said you'd live freely! (albeit as an 'npc') why are you hesitating now? you're letting the system win! ]

"huh?" isn't that what the system wanted though? to have you obey the rules and the role of a typical mc. then again, when did you ever listen to it? "uh, well..."

aglaea stands up. "that's all i want to convey."

"wait," the words suddenly burst out, a wave of energy surging. [ go go! ] "... saving amphoreus, it's not only an obligation, but something all the chrysos heirs chose for themselves." [ ∑d(°∀°d) ] aglaea raises an eyebrow. she is letting you speak what could be your final words.

"... castorice wishes to recover her past. she will defeat thanatos and save amphoreus, to discover the world with newfound purpose."

"mydei hopes to return to castrum kremnos and sever the last ties. he will defeat nikador to protect amphoreus and his new life."

"and phainon has people he wants to protect. and to do that, he will save amphoreus to keep them safe."

"the chrysos heirs all share the same feelings as you, hearts strong; saving amphoreus, but to also save a future of their own as well. so... put more faith... in them..." the words die out when you realise that what you've been saying, to aglaea of all people. her stare is critical, analysing your flaws. "or don't..." well, it was a good life.

you are expecting the sweet release of death. but nothing comes. it is silent before aglaea sits back down, one leg crossing over the other. she rests her chin on her hand, looking into the distance. seemingly conflicted, as if not wanting you to look at her, but hoping you'd stay for a bit longer. the ice in the air warms bit-by-bit. you process the silent understanding with her, watching the water flow. [ aglaea's affection +1 ]

"don't die guys. seriously." you give mydei a pat on the back, and castorice a thumb up because she'll instantly dissolve you otherwise. "where's phainon?"

"i saw him on the rooftop... i think he's wait... ing..." castorice trails off, head bobbing from a lack of sleep presumably.

mydei scratches his head. "we'll head off first then," he sighs. "don't keep him any longer than you have to."

"why am i-" the pair gradually get smaller into the distance. "-the one to go?" [ new mainline mi- ] "yeah, yeah, i get it." you wave the message away. [ 凸( ` ﾛ ´ )凸 ] you smile. [ YOU LAUGHED- ] muted.

sure enough, you find the missing person on a rooftop. phainon is surprised to see you. you wave, approaching him. "yo."

"... yo." he mirrors, brightening like the sun. but behind the smile were shadows.

"what's up?" you ask.

phainon is in quiet contemplation. "i'm afraid, honestly," he starts, "i do want to defeat nikador. it's been a life-long goal."

"but... i wish i could run away too, away from the commitment. rest my eyes and not have to think or worry."

insecure, anxious. you saw hints of it before, but now he has cracked completely, revealing to you. the calm before the storm. a final exchange of all the unwritten words.

you make an inch for his hand, but unsure, you retract it. "you sound as if you'll die."

his eyes widen. "i didn't mean to insinuate..." he looks down forlornly, at the distance between his and your hands. the quiver in his fingers craves, agitated. "i can't die yet, there's too much i want to do." his eyes move to yours. but the embarassment he feels when you reciprocate it quickly deflects his gaze away.

skin to bone; rust to metal. they only rot to the test of time, and it is only in this way that phainon will release himself from the overworld. not to the titankin, not to nikador, but a natural harbinger. that way, every breath, down to his last, can be spent on you.

you really want to pet his head. thinking back to the conversation with aglaea, you construct your words, "come home after this. to amphoreus, to the chrysos heirs. afterwards, there will be time for your heart to rest."

all these answers but phainon didn't find one to the question he is searching for. he tugs at your sleeve, eyebrows frowning. you feel almost shy looking into his faithful eyes. "will you be there too?"

your mouth opens, "me?" his ears wait for an answer. his fingers fiddling your fabric to as if to annoy a response out of you. reject, accept, deny, he's begging for anything. it doesn't matter.

phainon is entirely devoted to you, for reasons he had yet to explain. this part of his story is not left out. claim, discipline, stipple your mark into him and his skin will not rebound from your carving. until skin melted into flesh, and flesh peeled off his bones, and bones pulverised into dust, everything would remain as history written on his body until then.

at the end of the day, into the night, he is waiting for you. he's hoping you'll do the same.

a velvet smile paints your face, heart beating, your answer as natural as day and night: "i will be waiting too." for him, and his story of devotion.

"when we reunite, let's make a world of our own. one we both belong to, and one where we are free to do everything we want. where the sun guides us and the moon watches over, co-existing." [ ... ]

rule #2 in the 'npc survival handbook': do not get involved with the chrysos heirs.

phainon finds solace in the crook of your neck, strong arms wrapped around you but his hold trembles. you let him do as he please - let his heart, something he almost gave up, finally express itself, and you can hear his heart beat prove its existence. quietly, you card through his white strands with your fingers.

the sun begins to set.

"phainon, i order you to track this outsider. i do not know how they happened to breach okhema, but i suspect they fell from beyond the sky," agalae instructed, eyes sharpened. "if they make any suspiscious movement, or mention the forbidden, they must be dealt with swiftly."

thus, phainon watched over you, playing executioner. another mission, nothing new. leave them alone if proven harmless, execute if necessary.

standing upright on a rooftop, the first time he laid eyes on you, you were in the middle of marmoreal market, dazed, speaking... to no one? then the chest stealing, the sagelore fruit stuffed in your mouth, doing everything that you pleased - riding the loose currents of freedom, unrestrained by rules. without knowing, bright laughter left his rigid lips.

as days passed, disturbance grew. for whatever reason, the titankin were strongly attracted to you, as if you were an anomaly they had to eliminate. before one of them could strike you-

"hm?" as soon as you turned around to look, there was nothing there but the glaring sun quietly protecting you all along.

months passed like this and phainon slowly carved your existence into amphoreus. from the big movements, the twitching in your expressions. to the hollowness in your eyes when you watched the people chatter, the children running by, the scholars conversing. he saw it then. a black sheep walking among the herd; a shard of the night misfitting itself into bright daylight.

chaos worsened. the black tide brought night and agitated harmony's wavelengths. the titankin spiralled and even more were after your throat. took its toll on phainon as he stayed by your side when amphoreus was asking for him. it was one of the few times that he let his duties go for something he freely chose to do. although, the price to pay was hefty - it was him against many. and the threads hummed tunes about his misdeeds.

as much as the dark scared him, the night carried you to him on that fated day. you were going to kill him. open his stomach. stab his chest. those were most effective. but you felt so warm in his arms when he caught you.

in the back of his mind, a nagging hope procured a promising premonition. a hope brought to flame, his studying that came to fruition, when you tenderly looked after him.

he looked up at you. the moon softly caressed its shimmer upon you. you were moonlight. and from there on, the sun orbited the moon. a devotion that naturally made sense, that was meant to be.

days turned to weeks. you tried not to think about the emptiness. who are you? someone waiting for their husband to return home from war?

"hey kid, watch out." you steady a brown-haired kid before he could fall over again. he bows, thanking you. you learned his name was theophis.

"buying more sagelore fruit? come, come! the produce this season is at its ripest." their name was auguste.

"good morning, dearie. is phainon not here today either?" her name was hegesia.

again and again, you strolled around okhema, sticking names to familiar faces. the people grew to know you as time moved its hands - a sense of belonging and purpose in a place once foreign. you found yourself engaging with them, not because of a reward, or even being forced to do it.

it is then that you realise it. chatter, talking, noise. yet, everything is too quiet at the same time. no banter, no teasing remark... nothing.

in the middle of marmoreal market, you stand dazed again. something is supposed to guide you in moments like these. your heart is heavy, mourning a loss.

"system?"

the wind slips through your fingers, proudly holding your hand. it answers your call.

you are sound asleep when the night courses through your balcony, blowing the curtains with its star-glistened breath. the cautious clicking of boots unheard. fingers delicate, lips yearning, but settlling for gently pressing their head against yours, lightly rubbing back and forth. so careful, too delicate, a touch that only borders the rim of a minute gap between you and him, afraid to rouse you from your dreams.

"my moonlight... "

strangely, you slept well last night. and the night after that. and the next one too. you did your usual routine in marmoreal market and were about to head home when a strong gust of wind attacks you. "woah!" you hold your arms in front you.

the breeze gradually calms, tugging at your clothes. slowly, you lower your arms, feeling the familiarity in its touch. the wind guides you by the hand, dragging you hurriedly to the rooftop and you recognise his back.

"phainon?" he jumps a little at the sound of your voice, his tail wagging. his owner has returned. he awkwardly rubs a hand on the back of his neck, bashful - those ears are red again. what's he hiding?

his shoulders shake slightly. it is taking all his strength to not run into your loving arms. before he could, there was something in his cards to reveal. he turns around, closing the distance, and you finally meet his face. a very flushed one, that is. but a face you missed all the same. he clears his throat. "i want to explore amphoreus, find a quieter place," he says, structuredly, "i will return to okhema when needed, of course, but for now... the heart wants to rest," he extends his hand towards you. "will you come with me?" his hand trembles.

no pressure, no forcing. he is letting your heart decide the flow. he would go anywhere you wanted, as your desires are also his as much as it is yours. this is the freedom he wants, a drift of the wind that you decide, as long as he can ride along it with you. the direction does not matter when the amphoreus is only a speck in the universe, with so much to explore.

a smile creeps onto your lips. you steady his hand into yours. even after all this time, he acts like he's meeting you for the first time. "why wouldn't i?"

"oh," phainon immediately brightens. "g-great!"

you remember the well-rested nights. "but it was you, wasn't it? how come you didn't reveal yourself sooner?"

his encompassing hands fidget with your ring finger. "i... was practicing my lines for days." he looks away. "i was really nervous," he mumbles.

you grin. "what were you so afraid of? it's only me."

he chuckles. "you're right..." slowly, he takes your hand and presses it against his cheek. your cradle is a fondness reserved only for him. in his eyes, an affection that has accompanied you everywhere, since you first got here. a love that didn't need recognition, it only asks to follow you and shower him with the sound of your laughter when he gets lonely. "about everything, about us, i want to tell you how it all started from my eyes. ever since you got here..." -the sun had always followed the moon. he kisses your palm.

and before he forgets, phainon hands you an envelope. it is as heavy as you remember it to be. "all their blessings are in here, the chrysos heirs."

it really sounds like you are getting married. you let out a tired laugh.

there are no more rules. whether from a sense of obligation, freedom or loneliness, you'll both live how you want. become the main characters of your own stories.

"let's go!" with no time to waste, phainon excitedly takes you by the hand, legs flourished by the wind and trails of good fortune. the day is beginning to rise, and the sun is more than happy to follow his moonlight into the next day, and for all of infinity and evermore.

"godspeed to you," tribbie clasps her hands together in prayer, looking down at the pair from the far above. then, she smiles, her head swaying side-to-side. "searching for a small world of their own. it's almost like an elopement, isn't it, agy?"

aglaea hums, hand on her heart. the threads chime a ceremonial aria, the ice melts ever so little. "the heart... knows what it wants."

a person closes the novel they were reading. sighing, they pick up their phone and start typing again:

"this author has balls of steel to come back with another disasterous novel. so criiiiiiinge. where was castorice at the end? i was waiting for her! why is the male lead, a powerful warrior, reduced to a lovesick puppy? how does that make sense, you stupid author! such abysmal writing full of holes, leaking enough to fill an entire ocean. insanity, i say!" this random nobody criticises, slamming their fingers on the screen. they clear their throat. "hmph. the next volume better be coming soon."

a/n: im pooped, expect my third child to come out next year probably. everyone's invited to the baby shower, just make sure to bring ur best costumes. my back breaks everytime i have to argue philosophy with the reader and the characters like,, im being attacked from all sides. fun fact: ever since i prematurely posted my sunday fic, when im sleeping, everytime i hear a phone notif i instantly wake up bc i get scared thinking i accidentally posted again. so thats cool. new trauma gained ig😜 idk what else to say. like and subscribe, hit the bell icon for notifications. lemme know ur fav toothpaste brand. [ new achievement: 'thanks for reading!!' ヾ(*'▽'*)' ]

[dj-of-the-coven]

“Unable to slot Jews into a clearly defined role within their political agenda, most of the left tended historically to regard them with considerable ambivalence, and, in some cases, extreme hostility. While supporting universal human rights, the left never saw antisemitism as a primary concern. Instead, it was a secondary issue (if an issue at all) that would be resolved as a side effect of the general social liberation that the left was pursuing. Intrinsic to this approach is the view that Jewish particularity is, in itself, a defect to be remedied through assimilation and disappearance. […] Any attempt by Jews to make the struggle against antisemitism into a separate problem deserving of the same passion devoted to other progressive causes was rejected as a diversion from the main issues that animate the left.”

- The New Antisemitism, Shalom Lappin

On Antisemitism: An Open Plea.

Over the course of 2024, I was physically assaulted for being a Jew three times: once by a man waiting outside the JCC, and twice while working the desk at an anarchist bookstore.

All three of these attacks were done by men, all almost immediately after identifying me as a Jew. One of my assaulters, a white man with scruffy facial hair and a bucket hat, clearly identified as some kind of Christian—he wore three cross necklaces and a blue shirt with the Virgin Mary on the front. One man was black, wearing pressed slacks and dark leather dress shoes. One man was college-aged, white, wearing a band hoodie and jeans. Two of the encounters were one-off incidents, whereas the Christian man searched for me multiple times at the bookstore while I was not present. I am a fairly large person, and one with a lot of combat training, so I was lucky that none of these incidents resulted in the worst possible outcomes for an early-20s woman confronted alone after dark. Many people are not so lucky when they are put in my place. Particularly Jewish women.

And as a quick aside, people don’t tend to take the Jewish part of “Jewish woman” seriously. When I add this comment to the story, a lot of people scoff. I can somewhat understand why; despite the curls, if you were to look at me, you might think, “How did they even know you were Jewish?”. For two of these men (the ones who didn’t see me coming out of the Jewish Community Center), the answer is fairly simple. When they heard my name, they paused and asked. I don’t like to assume the worst in people, and thus I confirmed, though in the time since I have gotten much sparser with revealing that information to strangers. This is how I know they were attacking me for that reason. When you reveal yourself to be a Jew, or are recognized against the odds, things can often become unsavory quickly.

Any leftist worth their salt would call these attacks against me unconscionable—I doubt that most would be willing to defend this behavior—but make no mistake. None of the men who attacked me were acting out some kind of exception to a rule, nor was I particularly surprised that these incidents all occurred in or around spaces that should be safe for Jews. This is the reality that the Jewish people live in. Wherever we are, we can expect a roughly equal reaction from the population, left wing or right wing, and the largest point of difference between the two is whether they will call you “Zio” or “Kike” before grabbing you by the collar.

I was attacked only three times last year. Yet, countless more times I have watched the people in my communities ignore the rhetoric that led to these attacks, wave them off as radicals, as zealots unrepresentative of their peers, and continue to live their lives as if these incidents don’t happen regularly.

This is a major problem on the left.

Yes—the left.

The American right-wing is axiomatically predisposed to this type of behavior. If they aren’t the ones committingthe hate crimes, then they are often the ones most comforted by them, affirmed that their goal of a pure-white America is one step closer to being attained. It’s never surprising for a Jew to encounter a conservative with just one or two comments to make about us being “good with money”, “owning the banks”, “controlling the media”, and other examples of kindergarten-level political opinions. On the other hand, one wouldn’t automatically assume that a leftist would hold such opinions. Being opposed to race-based and religion-based discrimination, it would be a bit counter-intuitive for leftists to say such things about Jews. Wouldn’t it?

You would be surprised.

If there’s anything that the last year has taught me, it’s that the left is much more susceptible to antisemitism than ever previously understood, despite its long history within progressive social movements. So long as you stipulate “Israeli” and/or “Zionist” before saying the word “Jews”, any and all manner of violent hate speech can be considered revolutionary sentiment: I have seen fellow leftists call Jews, not just "Zionists", inhuman, bloodthirsty, real-life monsters, scum, vermin, pollutants; capitalist pigs and agents of genocide; a fake people with a fake identity and a fake claim to safety and dignity. And pointing this out will net you with a number of other responses, questions of whether you support the actions of the Israeli government, as if the point of the discussion was ever about that and not about the antisemitism being lobbed at you in broad daylight. Talks of antisemitism are always shafted into talks about Israel regardless of where in the diaspora you happen to be. Those of us who are staunch leftists, who want nothing but peace and solidarity with Arabs and Muslims—which is a majority of Jews—are pressured into remaining silent about our worsening mental health and safety for the sake of the cause. We’re told to speak later, when the most important voices have spoken first: every ethnic, gender, and sexuality minority first, then maybe the Jews. It was only recently that I realized this mythical “later” will never come.

Largely, Jews just want peace. Jews want safety. Jews want recognition of our suffering, regardless of the actions of a government that might not even be ours, depending on who you’re talking to—but Israeli Jews deserve these things as well. There is nothing wrong with criticizing the Israeli government, but when will goyische leftists realize that Israel’s government, like all governments, is not a true representation of its people? When will goyim realize that it’s not okay to dehumanize Jews, no matter what their political opinion is? When will they finally wake up embarrassed by their own behavior, realizing that my Jewish peers, my cousins, my extended family, my community—all of us are just people who are entitled to the same respect and empathy as any ethnic group in the world? Will they ever learn to recognize their own bigotry? Will they ever see the world from a pair of Jewish eyes?

The answer is, for all intents and purposes, no. But I don’t want to stop trying just because it feels hopeless.

If you are a leftist goy and you’re still reading this, I would like to ask of you only one thing: stop talking and start listening. If you don’t know anything about Jewish history, don’t talk about it. If you know less than four Jewish people, and you keep them at an arm’s length in case they turn out to be “evil baby-killers”, then you shouldn’t mention your Jewish friends. If you believe only Sephardi and Mizrahi Jews count as “real Jews”, you shouldn’t be weighing in on which Jews count as white. If you couldn’t name any Jewish holiday besides Chanukah, you shouldn’t bother to call yourself educated on my people and our traditions. If you believe that the Jewish people, alone among all peoples, deserve to be oppressed for the crimes of a vocal few, then frankly you should not consider yourself a human rights activist at all.

If you are a Jew, all I have to say to you is that I’m sorry. I’m sorry that it’s taken me so long to speak up on your behalf; on behalf of all of us. I’m so sorry that everyone is acting like this is fine. I’m sorry that our lives have been shrinking ever-smaller as we’ve been made unsafe in queer spaces, disabled spaces, online communities and real-life ones, spaces that should belong to everyone. I wish I could fix your pain. I hope you’ll accept my attempt to chip away at it.

This is not the first time a Jew has come forward to speak about this, but I hope that adding my voice to the conversation will help at least one more person realize that what has happened to us is wrong. There is no world in which the collective punishment of an entire ethnic group is justified. No matter what Israel has done, no matter what tragedies and injustices have been inflicted on Palestinians by the IDF, there is no world in which this mass-scale vilification of Jews can be called real justice. There is no world in which these means justify the ends. And what ends do you even want to this? For all Israelis to blow up and die? For all Jews to stop practicing our faith? Or do you want the long-proposed answer to the Jewish question—the total annihilation of all Jews from the planet Earth?

Of course not. But if you don’t make an effort to educate yourself on antisemitism, then the answer to that question will make itself known in your mind, and in your heart, before you even know it. There is no genetic difference between you and a Nazi.

[randomshyperson]

don't run away without me - wanda maximoff oneshots

summary: Wanda's neglect of everything around her, and constant abuse of the darkhold reaches a breaking point - you can't go on like this anymore. | warnings: mainly angst, hurt/comfort, they fight and actually resolve things through dialogue (crazy ik), mutual pining, fluff by the end (you may consider the canon of agatha all along for the "open" ending) | words: 2.588k

a/n-> A month ago i think @iguirisu request an angst one shot, and here it is, i randomly had inspiration for it today at work hope you like; I actually do miss writing about Wanda's depression state, or dark hold influence era.

General Masterlist | AO3 | Wattpad

-&-

The smell of coffee made you sigh and relax a little.

Natasha smiled affectionately - despite the obvious tiredness and sadness that your gaze hid, it was good to see you a little, even if minimally, more cheerful.

She took her place in the armchair, crossing her legs. In her hand, a hot cup of tea. You, on the other hand, left yours on the table, your fingers nervous.

"You took a while to visit, Y/N." Nat began, without waiting for you to make any excuse, she added; "I was hoping Wanda would come with you."

You look down, a sad laugh escaping you. "Yeah, I asked her to." You mumble, unable to hide your annoyance. “"Things have been... tricky. Ever since Westview. I thought we were doing well, as much as possible, but Wanda..." You sigh, forcing a smile at Nat. "She's been shouting me out."

Natasha takes a sip of her tea before commenting. "She knows none of us hold a grudge against Westview, right? Even though it's been, well, fucked up." 

You laugh weakly at the comment, nodding. You take a sip of your drink too, enjoying the the taste of it. 

Nat stretches out her legs and rests them on the coffee table. "Maybe I should visit." 

You shake your head. "Better not, Nat." You say, and this surprises the redhead a little. You sigh. "It's her magic. She's been restless, and Wanda, well, she gets really nervous sometimes. I tried to talk to her about contacting that witch we faced in Westview, you know? Agatha Harkness. But she won't give in. And that damn book too. I may not be a witch, but I can sense something's wrong." 

The redhead sighs. "Damn, Y/N, that sounds like... a lot." 

You smile weakly. "Yeah, I know. But thanks for having me here, Nat. I guess I needed to get out of that cabin for a bit, to clear my head." 

She shakes her head gently. "Please don't mention it. I think everything would be easier if we all still lived together in the compound. We'd end up making too much noise for Wanda to get stuck in books." Her joke makes you smile, a little nostalgic. Natasha looks at you curiously. "Are you sure you don't want me to visit? We can just, I don't know, talk. Spend some time together. I feel like I haven't seen you guys in... forever."

You smile sadly, looking away at the apartment. It’s exactly how you remember it, the same way Natasha welcomed you from Shield, a safe home for a defected black widow.

“It’s okay, this helps a lot.” You lean back against the couch, resting your back. “Can we talk about something else? Anything. Even if it’s a fantasy.”

She chuckled in confusion. "I don't understand, Y/N."

You sigh sadly. "I just miss you so much, Nat." 

She frowns, adjusting her posture to move closer, taking the seat next to you. "I'm right here, sweetheart." She says, reaching for your hand. You smile, feeling the tears well up in your eyes. 

You lean in to hug her, and for a moment, the feeling is just as you remembered. But it doesn't last long, and with a sigh, you wake up. 

The covers of your bed are tightly wrapped around you, but the cabin is cold and they do little to keep you warm. It's not just the weather, you know. Wanda is reading again, and the darkhold always makes sure that the cold feeling never goes away, even when you turn on the fireplace and sit on the rug in front of it.

You get up without rushing, there's nothing to rush about. You go to the bathroom to wash your face, brush your teeth, but maintain a relaxed appearance of someone who just woke up, which in the past Wanda would comment on how charming you are - but now, she doesn't even look up from her book when you leave the room.

You're not surprised that there's no coffee; if you don't make it, Wanda will just go on without eating, for hours and hours until her body protests with exhaustion.

It's not healthy, you can insist. But she won't give more than a grumble in return.

This morning you prepare pancakes, and some coffee. There are freshly picked apples that manage to bring a small smile to your face. You think it will be like any other morning, quiet and lonely, but Wanda's physical form appears to sit at the table with you.

"Hi, Y/N." It's almost painful actually. The distance and indifference have grown to the point that greeting you in the morning is almost like talking to a stranger.

Your back tenses before you glance at her from the corner of your eye and murmur a good morning, your attention returning to the preparation of the coffee.

"You woke up late." Your hand hesitates in cracking the eggs, but only for half a second. Wanda sighs. "I thought you weren't going to do that anymore." 

You place the eggs on the tray, and move to find the flour. Your back is to Wanda. "I don't know what you're talking about." You mumble disinterestedly. 

She laughs, humorless. "Come on, you were the one giving speeches about how wrong and dangerous that was, and now you're doing it almost every night." 

You set the bowl down on the table with a little more force than necessary. "What is it now, Wanda?" You demand, irritated but more importantly, upset. Days goes by with Wanda not paying a single glance at you, and now she’s demanding answers. "Just say what you mean." 

She rolls her eyes, and you swallow hard. She can be so… mean. Like Wanda never was. But then again, ever since Westview, and especially since the Darkhold, you've been discovering sides of her that you've never seen. You tried to stay positive about it, because well, relationships are hard. But it was all extremely tiring.

"I just think it's a little funny, when I asked to talk to my boys, you said it was wrong. That I was abusing your power, that it was dangerous to mess with these things, that speech about natural law and the veil of the dead, or whatever nonsense you made up."

"I didn't make it up-"

She interrupts you: "But when it's about you visiting Natasha every night, then it's okay?"

You laugh humorlessly. "Because it's me! Because I hold the connection, because it's my power! I've explained to you this a hundred times, but you don't want to accept it." She huffs, standing up, ready to leave the room, the conversation, and that makes you laugh again. "Go ahead, just run away again." 

She looks at you with irritation: "Me? You're the one who's running away, Y/N! Every night to visit our dead friend!" 

You have to laugh because honestly this has to be a joke. Wanda swallows hard at the sound. "Wanda, you're not even here." You gesture to the other room where her astral projection is reading the darkhold, and she turns her face away, almost embarrassed. You run a hand over yours, sighing. Exhausted. "This is all bullshit. I don't even know what I'm doing here."

You explode. "She talks to me!" And this takes Wanda by surprise, she looks at you with a frown, and you hold back the tears that threaten to fall. "A change of scenery for a change. "

"I talk to you." 

She looks at you as if you've been slapped, in a way, you're almost happy to have some reaction.

"You said you didn't want to leave me alone."

You frown, and hold her gaze, even though you can't hold back the tears anymore. "And in return, you barely look at me."

"Y/N, that's not true. We were ready to have breakfast-" She tries to get closer, to touch you, but you pull away, laughing humorlessly, gesturing nervously to the kitchen.

"Breakfast? Wanda, none of this is real!" You scoff, gesturing around. "This farm, the food, even the fucking animals, you created everything with your magic. All of this is a lie."

"Don't say that."

But you get closer, breathless with emotion, your hands find her face, and Wanda resists the urge to lean into the touch, her gaze conflicted as if she were also resisting something else, something stronger and deeper.

"I'm real, Wanda. And I'm right here. Begging you to let me in." You confess, and some of her certainty breaks. "But you push me away. And ignore me for days, limiting me to a ghost of you." 

She touches your forearms. "I know you don't like it, but astral projection allows me to study without leaving you alone and-" She tries, but you shake your head, cutting her off. 

"Enough, I don't want to hear the same excuses all over again." You walk away, a sad smile on your face. "I think I should just go."

Wanda tries to contain her emotion, but she's crying the next minute. "If that's what you want, I won't stop you." 

You laugh sadly. "What I want. Funny." You retort, walking around her to pack, and Wanda swallows hard. It takes a moment, but she finally follows you to the room, where you search for the few belongings you brought, which weren't fabrications of chaos magic. She doesn't even realize she's forced back her astral projection until she sees the darhold floating alone, almost begging to be read again.

"So that 's it? Are you really just going to leave me alone?" 

You don't look at her. "Clearly that's what you want, Wanda. Enjoy your reading." 

But she stands in front of the door, blocking your way. You sigh impatiently, but she holds her position. "And what do you want?" 

You hesitate, and Wanda tilts her head, her eyes turning red. You snort in protest at the attempt of mind reading. "Unbelievable." You mumble in disappointment, but there's a bump when you try to cross because Wanda won't step aside. "Come on, you said you wouldn't stop me." 

"Why did you come with me in the first place?" She demands to know then, her gaze almost pleading, and that makes you hesitate, take a step back. 

"Wanda." 

"Tell me." She says, and you swallow hard, looking away at the floor. She laughs humorlessly. "Fine, and then you say I don't talk to you." 

She steps aside, turning her back to you to walk down the hallway again, and you sigh, thinking fuck it. Things can't get any worse than they are now. 

"I'm in love with you."

It's the first time you've said it out loud, admitted it to yourself, actually. Wanda frowns at you, and then laughs briefly and incredulously.

"Right." She mumbles, and you take a step toward her.

"I'm serious."

Wanda doesn't flinch. "Well, I don't believe you."

It's your turn to frown, confused and a little embarrassed, as you watch Wanda sigh and walk over to the couch, where she sits. You sigh too before entering the living room again, the bag of clothes loosely in your hand. "What are you talking about? What do you mean you don't believe? This is just a fact, not something to argue about."

But the redhead shakes her head. "That's ridiculous, Y/N. You're not in love with me." You open your mouth to protest, but she keeps talking. "First of all, you never said anything. You didn't even think." She looks at you with a certain certainty that makes you swallow hard. That nosy witch and that bad habit of looking into people's minds. "Second, you're.. off limits. You're Nat' s. You always have been and always will. I mean you visit her even after death now." 

You grimace, and then you finally understand what Wanda is really saying. "Wanda, I," You begin, dropping your backpack on one of the armchairs and approaching where she is, kneeling down to her level. "Natasha and I broke up during the blip. I told you that. We became friends, just friends, over time. I’ve been visiting her because I was feeling lonely, and I missed having a friend to talk to." Wanda looks away, and you try to follow her gaze, your hand reaching for hers in your lap. "And yes, about the first thing, you're right. I'd never thought about it. It took me a while to understand, to realize. I guess I was trying to protect myself." 

She looks at you with some uncertainty. "From me?" 

You laugh shortly, shaking your head immediately. "Oh, no, Wanda, not from you." You clarify quickly. "I was afraid of getting my heart broken, you know? You had someone. And well, Natasha was my first love. And it was mutual. I didn't know how to deal with rejection, with the possibility of well, of living through this right now. It's been hard, but I'll survive." 

But Wanda swallows hard, her cheeks gaining a new color. "But I... didn't reject you."

You laugh awkwardly. "It's okay, I don't need you to let me down slowly, the shock and silence are enough for me to get the message." You joke, but when you make a move to stand up, Wanda tightens her grip on your hand, keeping you in place.

"You just caught me by surprise." She murmurs and it's the only thing she says before advancing on you, a firm kiss on your lips. She barely lets you get used to the feeling - pulling away immediately, her brow furrowed in conflict. "Fuck, don't show me that."

"I didn't do anything-"

"It's not you!" She snaps, her eyes red. Wanda suddenly becomes agitated, standing up, her hands on her head for a moment. You worry, and when you try to touch her, she suddenly grabs you, her arms around you, her face hidden in your chest. She takes a deep breath, as if trying to wake herself up to this moment. "Please, don't leave me alone with it."

You understand, the book, which continues to vibrate in the next room, waiting, demanding a reader.

One of your hands goes to Wanda's head, and the other to her back, trying to calm her down.

"I'll stay with you, Wands." You say, swallowing hard afterwards. "But on one condition." She breaks the hug only to look at you. You sigh. "We'll ask for help."

"What? No-"

"I'm serious." You interrupt. "If not Agatha Harkness, it will be someone from Kamar Taj, like Doctor Strange. You need help, Wanda. You don't sleep, you barely eat. You're paranoid and restless. You're hurting yourself, and I'm not going to stand by and watch."

Wanda sighs tiredly, and buries her face in your chest again, nodding softly. Though the next moment, she mumbles, “Strange won’t help. Sorcerers don’t… help witches.”

You kiss the top of her head. “Agatha Harkness then.”

The redhead groans in protest. "I don't trust her." But you hug her a little tighter.

"I know, darling, me either." You whisper. "But who knows what Westview has in store for us?"

Wanda hides her warm face deeper inside the hug. "I like it when you call me that."

It's your turn to blush. "Lucky for you, I have an endless list of pet names for you, Miss Magic Fingers." She giggles, trying to tickle you so you'll let her go, but the break only makes you laugh and shower her face with kisses.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Winning coalitions aren't always governing coalitions

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/2025/01/06/how-the-sausage-gets-made/#governing-is-harder

Winning an election is easier than it looks: all you have to do is convince a bunch of different groups that you will use power to achieve their desires. Bonus points if you can convince groups with mutually exclusive goals that you'll deliver for them – the coalition of "people who disagree about everything" is hard to assemble, but it sure is large!

Politically, a "conservative" is someone who believes that there is a small group of people who were born to rule, and a much larger group of people who were born to be ruled over. As Corey Robin writes in The Reactionary Mind, this is the one trait that unifies all the disparate strains of conservative thought: imperialists, monarchists, capitalists, white supremacists, misogynists, Christian nationalists, Hindu nationalists and supporters of Israeli genocide in Palestine:

https://coreyrobin.com/books/the-reactionary-mind/

These groups all agree that power should be hierarchical, that your position in a hierarchy is something you're born with, and that letting people who were "meant" to be at the bottom of the hierarchy rise to the top puts society so out of balance that it's actually a threat to human survival. That's why conservatives of all stripes get so furious about "DEI" – any kind of affirmative action program serves as a defective sorting hat, putting the incompetent and unsuitable into positions of power over other peoples' lives. It's why "DEI" is the go-to scapegoat for any kind of disaster, including giant ships crashing into bridges:

https://www.axios.com/local/salt-lake-city/2024/03/26/baltimore-bridge-dei-utah-lawmaker-phil-lyman-misinformation

But while conservatives all agree that some of us are born to be in charge and others are born to be bossed around by our innate superiors, they have irreconcilable differences about who is meant to be in charge. British imperialists who pine for the Raj have views that are fundamentally at odds with the views of Hindu nationalists. They're both "conservative" movements, but they're actually bitter enemies.

For a conservative movement to win power, it has to convince the people whom it would relegate to the bottom of the hierarchy to support that goal (AKA "getting turkeys to vote for Christmas"); and it must convince other conservatives that they will be able to establish a hierarchy that accommodates multiple, co-equal ruling elites.

The first tactic is well-established. LBJ summed it up neatly:

If you can convince the lowest white man he's better than the best colored man, he won't notice you're picking his pocket. Hell, give him somebody to look down on, and he'll empty his pockets for you.

The second one requires far more tactical thinking. Some elite groups are able to form coalitions by carving out exclusive zones: think of the friendly feeling among Modi, Orban, Erdogan, bin Salman, Trump, Milei, et al. These people all aspire to dictatorship, all espouse their superior blood – a source of personal and racial superiority – and hypothetically all believe that the world would be better if everyone (including their foreign counterparts) would take their orders.

One way to resolve this tension is to carve up the world geographically, which is why so many despots who seized power by promising to build ethno-states can co-exist with one another and even cheer one another on. Let Orban have Hungary, give Turkey to Erdogan, and let Bibi Netanyahu annex all of Gaza. Sure, in their hearts of hearts, each of these men secretly believe themselves to be racially and personally superior to the others, but so long as they all stay out of one another's turf, there's no reason to make a big deal out of that.

Another way to resolve this tension is to carve up the world temporally: think of the alliance between Christian nationalists and Israeli genocidiers. In the USA, "Christian Zionists" outnumber Jews who identify as Zionists:

https://www.trtworld.com/magazine/qanda-for-every-1-jewish-zionist-there-are-30-christian-zionists-and-netanyahu-exploits-this-15656249

But Christian Zionists aren't philosemites. They hate Jews and believe that we are all going to hell for murdering Christ. Their support for Israel isn't grounded in a belief in the necessity of a Jewish ethno-state – it arises out of the apocalyptic belief that Christ will return once Jews "return to the Holy Land" – albeit only briefly, before being cast into a lake of fire for all eternity.

Like British imperialists and the Hindu nationalists, Christian Zionists and Jewish Zionists are not on the same side. However, unlike British imperialists and Hindu nationalists, Christian Zionists and Jewish Zionists want the same thing…for a while. Both groups support the establishment of a Jewish entho-state in Israel, they just differ sharply as to what happens after that comes to pass. So long as they don't dwell on that moment in the future, they can stand shoulder to shoulder, fighting together for an Israeli state that operates with absolute US support and total international impunity.

Coalitions who defer the question of how they'll use power to after they've gained power are using time (rather than space) as a buffer that keeps their differences from smashing together until they shatter. But time and space aren't the only buffers for the differences between coalition partners – there's also class.

"Class" has been the most important, most useful buffer for conservativism since the Reagan revolution. Reagan came to power by forging an alliance with evangelicals, whose cult leaders had historically demanded that members focus their energies (and cash donations) on the church, while avoiding politics as "worldly."

Reagan promised the Christian right a bunch of culture war stuff – bans on abortion, punishment for uppity women and racial minorities, prayer in school, segregation academies, etc – that his financial backers frankly didn't give a shit about. By all means, let working class evangelicals homeschool their kids and teach them that the Earth is 5,000 years old, it doesn't matter to Wall Street, who will reap a giant tax-cut and also send their kids to private schools with rigorous curriculum. Bankers' wives and daughters will always be able to afford to fly out of state (or across the border) for abortion care, they will never die of AIDS in the charity wing of a community hospital, their daughters won't be trapped by bans on no-fault divorces.

For the past 40 years, American oligarchs and would-be oligarchs have entered into enthusiastic coalitions with virulently racist, sexist and homophobic groups, and maintained peace within their coalition by passing punitive, cruel laws that the rich can buy their way around. For many self-styled libertarians, the most important liberty is "not paying taxes" and this subordinates all other liberties, such that a "libertarian" will vote for a coalition whose platform promises to ban abortion, birth control, "interracial" marriage, and queer sex, so long as it also promises tax cuts. It's a weird kind of pro-freedom ideology that happily trades away (others') freedom for (your own) tax cuts:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/09/29/jubilance/#tolerable-racism

Remember, Trump's first CPAC speech was sponsored by Goproud, a group of "fiscally responsible" gay Republicans who believed in gay rights, sure, but not as much as they believed in getting so rich that even if poor gay people were ground into dust, they could float above it all:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/GOProud

Class is the third buffer between the oligarchs of the right and the mass movement that provides the bulk for winning elections. After all, laws are for the little people, so by all means, we can promise – and even deliver – laws that we would never submit to, because we don't have to submit to them. This is Wilhoit's Law in action:

Conservatism consists of exactly one proposition, to wit: There must be in-groups whom the law protects but does not bind, alongside out-groups whom the law binds but does not protect.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Francis_M._Wilhoit#Wilhoit's_law

In a hierarchical society, class separates groups of people just as rigidly as time and space, and is every bit as useful a buffer as the other two forces.

Until it isn't.

Eventually – once you've banned abortion, once you've taken all the "controversial" books out of the library, once you've made affirmative action illegal – you reach the layer of non-negotiable culture war demands that the rich can't buy their way out of.

Like immigration.

Let's start with this: immigration doesn't have to result in wage suppression. Couple immigration with strong unions and a muscular labor rights regime and workers do just great. The more the merrier! America needs workers of every kind. What's more, the unions and labor laws in America owe their existence to immigrant workers, so there's nothing about immigration that is necessarily incompatible with winning rights for workers.

But the possibility of importing some overseas union organizers isn't what motivates the finance wing of the conservative coalition to demand "guest-worker" programs like the H1B visa:

https://twitter.com/RobertMSterling/status/1873175206073626660

H1B visas are "non-immigrant" visas, meaning that they are designed not to offer any path to permanent residence or citizenship. You can live in the US for a long time on an H1B, but you are bound over to your employer like a serf bound to a feudal estate: if you lose your job, you lose your right to abide in the country. That can mean losing your house, your car, your kids' school and friends. It can cost your spouse their job, because if you're kicked out of the country, they might well leave along with you, rather than remain alone here.

H1B tech workers are the workers that tech-barons have dreamt of for decades. An H1B worker can't job-hop, and so needn't be lured to work with gourmet cafeterias, luxury gymnasiums, or other perks of the whimsical tech "campus." H1B workers can't quit if they don't like their stock-options packages:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/10/the-proletarianization-of-tech-workers/

Tech bosses hate tech workers, and they always have. It's not affection that causes Jeff Bezos to allow his coders to come to work with pink mohawks, facial piercings, and black t-shirts that say things their bosses don't understand, while his delivery drivers piss in bottles and his warehouse workers are injured at three times the national average. Jeff Bezos neither cherishes his coders' kidneys, nor is he especially hostile to delivery drivers' need to pee – he just squeezes any and every worker in any and every way he can.

Same for Tim Cook: the accomplishment that prompted Apple's board to elevate Cook to Steve Jobs' CEO office was the successful transfer of iPhone manufacturing to China. Specifically, Cook figured out how to work with his primary supplier, Foxconn, to create a working environment that produced reliable, precision-manufactured mobile devices, and all it took was creating a working environment so brutal that the company had to install suicide nets to catch the factory workers who couldn't stand it any longer:

https://www.theguardian.com/technology/2017/jun/18/foxconn-life-death-forbidden-city-longhua-suicide-apple-iphone-brian-merchant-one-device-extract

Apple's tech workers aren't worked to suicidal desperation, sure – but not because Tim Cook likes coders and hates factory workers. It's because he's afraid coders will quit, and he's not worried about replacing factory workers after they jump to their death.

The point of the H1B program is to create a tech workforce that bosses no longer have to fear. Recall that when Elon Musk took over Twitter and circulated a mandatory "extremely hardcore" pledge that demanded that workers promise to subordinate their health and wellbeing to his profits, it prompted a mass departure, with the notable exception of workers whose immigration status (and/or insurance for serious health issues) depended on their ongoing employment at Twitter:

https://www.theverge.com/2022/11/16/23462026/elon-musk-twitter-email-hardcore-or-severance

When Musk's cronies gloated about shedding 20% of Twitter's workforce on "day zero," the workers they had in mind were the ones who didn't fear their bosses and wouldn't frog when the investor class shouted jump. "Sharpen your blades, boys" means we're slicing off workers who are laboring under the misapprehension that they are entitled to a say in their working conditions:

https://techcrunch.com/2022/09/29/elon-musk-texts-discovery-twitter/

After all, America does not have a tech worker shortage. The US tech sector fired 260,000 skilled workers in 2023, and more than 150,000 were shown the door in 2024. When Musk and his fellow tech bosses complain that they need more "talent," what they mean is they need workers who are so terrified of being deported that they'll accept low wages, sleep under their desks, refuse to talk to union organizers, and, above all, do as they're told:

https://youtube.com/shorts/N0FkyXFhmpo?si=GCh6bFqd31prazhz

Trump won office by promising mutually exclusive outcomes to different parts of his coalition. To the nativists and bigots (and workers who'd bamboozled into thinking that their low salaries were the fault of other workers, not their bosses), he promised a halt to immigration. To the plutocrats, he promised a large and pliable workforce – of low-waged agricultural workers and of precarious H1B tech workers who'd discipline America's "entitled" tech workers:

https://prospect.org/labor/2025-01-02-president-musk-american-workers-h1b-visas/

Now, he has to figure out how to keep everyone happy. Literally: the Speakership of Congress is only nine votes away from collapsing at any time (and until last week, it was just one vote away), and without Congress, Trump's ability to govern will be severely curtailed (see, for example, 2018-2020).

Immigration isn't an issue like abortion: oligarchs can support abortion bans and still procure abortions when they need them. It's much harder to support an immigration ban and still procure precarious, low-waged workers for your business. It will take many years for American-born workers to be so brutalized and broken that they capitulate to the working conditions that American guest workers and undocumented workers accept, and bosses are impatient.

It's hard to put on a convincing performance of banning immigration, as the UK's New Labour discovered. In the years leading up to the 2010 election, Labour – under Blair and then Brown – made a big show of "cracking down on immigration." At one point, Home Secretary Jacqui Smith announced that she was axing dozens of UK visa categories, while carefully not mentioning these were so niche that hardly anyone qualified for them. This created chaos for the people affected and their families – I lost my own "Highly Skilled Migrant" visa at this time and we had to move our wedding plans up by eight months so I could stay in the country with my British partner and our daughter – but it didn't do anything to quench the xenophobic rage that UKIP and the Tories had been stoking, and Labour lost its next election.

American conservatives are rightly proud of their ability to form coalitions. They trumpet their ethic of "no enemies to the right" and contrast this with the "cancel culture" of progressives:

https://www.wired.com/story/the-year-democrats-lost-the-internet/

It's true that purging your ranks of coalition partners who disagree with you at the margins is a severely self-limiting move. It's also true that the broader your coalition is, the easier it is to win power.

The right has built a coalition of people who want opposite things. Infamously, Project 2025 isn't just a collection of terrifying ideas for running (and ruining) America – it's a collection of mutually exclusive terrifying ideas for running and ruining America:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/07/14/fracture-lines/#disassembly-manual

Trump's top health picks – RFK jr, Weldon, Oz, Makary, Bhattacharya, Nesheiwat – want mutually exclusive, irreconcilable things that are as impossible to compromise on as "banning immigration" while simultaneously "expanding the H1B program":

https://pluralistic.net/2024/12/20/clinical-trial-by-ordeal/#spoiled-his-brand-new-rattle

Big, diverse coalitions of people who normally oppose each other are great for winning power, but they're very bad for wielding power. Trump's majorities in Congress and the Senate are razor-thin, and while the Democrats had to suffer under the Manchin-Synematic Universe, the GOP's Klown Kar of Krazies has dozens of swivel-eyed loons who will happily blow up "must-pass" bills just for shits and giggles.

What's more, the GOP has spent decades installing easily blown circuit breakers into the American legislative and administrative systems, from the filibuster to the debt ceiling. By design, these allow small groups of lawmakers to kill bills and hamstring presidential power. Trump's first attempt at removing one of these breakers – the senseless kabuki of the annual debt ceiling showdown – was a total failure:

https://prospect.org/blogs-and-newsletters/tap/2024-12-19-debt-limit-should-absolutely-be-eliminated/

Musk thinks he can ram through policies that sizable portions of the GOP coalition would rather die than support. So far, Trump has proven a pliable puppet for Musk's ambitions. But the Musk-Trump coalition is every bit as fragile as any other in the GOP, and Trump is notoriously sensitive to accusations of weakness. Musk can threaten to primary any GOP lawmaker who gets in his way, but as the Kochs discovered after they unleashed the Tea Party, grievance-fueled, paranoid, heavily armed cults are hard to keep on a leash.

The coming months are sure to be an all-out war of GOP infighting as the coalition must wield power without the useful buffers of space, time and class. They'll be an object lesson in the dangers of a coalition that's so broad that everyone is welcome, even people who'd happily line you and yours in front of a firing squad.

But just because the right's attitude to coalitions is to have a mind so open its brains fall out, that doesn't mean the left should pursue a program of overwhelming ideological purity. Trump is a stupid guy with incoherent ideas, but look at how far he got by erecting such a big tent that anyone fit underneath it (even actual Nazis).

The progressive coalition doesn't need to be that big. We can have enemies to the right. The hugs Kamala Harris bestowed on ghouls like Liz Cheney didn't win the election, and the medal Biden just gave her won't help either:

https://www.nytimes.com/2025/01/02/us/politics/presidential-citizens-medal-liz-cheney.html

Manchin and Synema can "fuck off until they come up to a gate with a sign saying 'You Can’t Fuck Off Past Here,' Climb over the gate, dream the impossible dream, and keep fucking off forever":

https://michaelmarshallsmith.substack.com/about

But the fact that some people don't belong in a progressive coalition, it doesn't follow that there's no room to make the coalition looser and broader. Sure, a big coalition makes it hard to wield power, but without that coalition, we'll never win power.

[planetnini]

LOVE TO KEEP ME WARM !

࿔･ﾟ*࿐ for the first time ever satoru is left puzzled just by a simple question from tsumiki, but he knows just how to prove his love for you + gn!reader. fluff with some angst— use of nicknames (baby, sweetheart), found family trope <3, girl dad satoru agenda, he is a bit insecure but it gets resolved, cutest fucking declaration of love ever, surprises! snow shenanigans, mistletoe kiss, satoru is the best boyfie ever i love him (5.8k words)

notes. this is a gift!!!! so it will cater to the interests and personality of my person but everything else is very vague :) merry new years secret santa thing @scarameows-world !!!! very late by the time this gets published but whtever.. i'm the reindeer that's been up in your inbox <3 we had alot of good talks and i hope we can stay in touch after this :") now here's a cute little fic i made for you about the one and only gojo satoru. title is inspired by this song

gojo satoru is a man whose proficiency knows no bounds. he is a force to be reckoned with ushering a new era of powerful sorcerers and curses due to his possession of both the six eyes and limitless technique. he could do almost anything as one might expect and everything came naturally to him. he never had any doubts about himself, but then came along you. 

satoru was a natural when it came to flirting, but he was not accustomed to the rejection he faced in his early days when you would ‘let him down easy’– it was nothing short of disastrous, always ending in banter between you two. yet somehow you had your wicked ways of making him chase even though all you two did was flirt. after several attempts to woo you and you finally stepping up, one thing led to another now here you were, co-parenting two kids with the man you once swore you’d never be with. satoru was 100% sure that he would be yours for infinity, but it wavered on this particular day. 

satoru was on a little errand run with tsumiki whom he had entrusted with pushing the trolley around as he scanned the list you had made for tonight’s dinner and activity. she was a young and incredibly happy girl who was much friendlier than her brother, megumi. when satoru adopted the two, tsumiki had taken a liking to him immediately whilst megumi took a liking towards you so he had taken her on the trip. it had been going well, with them doing the final grocery run after spending what felt like hours picking out the perfect wreath for the front door, however tsumiki’s question stopped him right in his tracks.

“do you love y/n?” she asked, a little curious look decorating her features.

“that’s a silly question. of course i do!” he uttered, scanning the wreaths with his eyes picking out the perfect one because quite frankly, he didn’t know how to react. 

people naturally assume that growing up from a family who viewed him as an ornament and coddled him that he would be a closed book or lacking in social skills but his first few years at jujutsu tech proved everyone wrong: he was not just a pretty face who could get away with just that. in the end, his love for others was his weakness and tsumiki had brought up something that satoru had failed to anticipate. what did she see that satoru couldn’t and was that even possible?

she took the wreath from his hands and put it into the trolley bringing him back to the present, “how do you know you love y/n?” she paused, and tsumiki must be sadistic for making him suffer like this, “what does it feel like?” she asked, looking up at him.

satoru looked down at the child, surprised by her questions. he paused for a moment, considering how to articulate such an answer to a complex question. was it that hard to believe that gojo satoru was capable of loving someone?

while satoru would never admit it at the start, he needed megumi and tsumiki more than they needed him. after suguru’s defect, they especially reminded him that sometimes blood wasn’t all that important when it came to the people you loved. he loved them but in a completely different way than he loved you. a love so unequivocal that it was impossible for people not to know how truly and deeply in love satoru was with you, so he wasn’t sure where he went wrong but perhaps it wasn’t enough.

“well,” he began a thoughtful look on his face, “loving someone is different to everyone. i guess i can’t really explain it other than a warm, fuzzy feeling inside and it makes you feel like everything is right…” he replied, her eyes lighting up with understanding, “you care for their happiness the most, that you’d even share your favourite candy.” he chuckled with a playful glint in his eyes, trying not to sound too sentimental.

“so you feel warm and fuzzy when you see y/n?” she looked up curiously at satoru.

he chuckled, ruffling the child's hair, "yeah, exactly. now come on, let’s finish this quickly so we can go home. get something for yourself and your brother.” he winked to which tsumiki nodded eagerly, seemingly satisfied with his answer as she rushed down the aisle finding something to bring home.

the atmosphere between satoru and the girl was no longer tense but satoru’s mind was swirling. he was reflecting on the innocence of the question as he took control of the trolley now, finished with his chores for the day. he even went as far as buying you something too but tsumiki had inadvertently planted a seed of doubt in his mind and now satoru was spiralling. did he love you enough? was his warm and fuzzy feelings strong and genuine, or was it something he convinced himself of after everything that went down? the simplicity of her question left satoru questioning himself and for the first time in forever, he is unsure of his relationship with you.

“i thought i told you that they can’t stay up late.” you spoke while washing the dishes. satoru could only lightly chuckle as he rinsed the plate, putting it on the drying rack. he knew you only meant well but he enjoyed seeing you like this more than he had expected: seeing you so worried and being such a caring person towards them. it was not like he had forced you to take care of them, it was through your own volition that you practically raised them.

“come on…” he drawled a little pout on his lips, “they said they didn’t want to decorate the tree without you tomorrow.” he reasoned, knowing that the two children in the living room were your true weakness and that just as much as you do for them, they’d do for you too. the way a simple sentence morphed your furrowed brows into a look of gratitude proved his point.

“do they actually want to decorate the tree with me or is it only because you bought them sweets today?” you accused.

“they’re much older now,” he reassured with a tone you doubt has any good intentions, “besides, i think it’s fair if we stop their ban on sweets, don’t you?” he asked with a simple hip nudge and you roll your eyes at the gesture.

he was happy with this, with how things were going in your life right now, in fact he couldn’t get enough of it. his request was simple, but you wasted no time immediately retaliating, “you just want to freely eat your sweets and use them as an excuse.” 

“what little faith you have in me!” he gasped and you have to stifle a laugh, “plus, they’re kinda scary when they don't get their way.” he joked, leaning back on the counter with his arms crossed to get a better view of you who had just finished washing and drying your hands after dinner. 

“how the higher-ups trust someone like you on those missions, i have no idea. i wonder how they would react if they found out you can’t handle two children.” you said, flashing him a smile. mentioning the higher-ups in the conversation made satoru’s blood boil but it had been tamed when he caught that little shake of your head combined with your smile. he had been contemplating the nature and depth of his feelings for you but tonight had proved that it was all a fluke– just seeing you was enough to remind him that nothing about loving you could ever be doubted, because loving you was as natural as breathing.

satoru leaned down to meet your eyes as you turned to face him, “sweetheart, if you want me home instead of on missions, you could just say so.” he smirked– a signature gojo satoru look that you couldn’t tell if you loved or hated.

you narrowed your eyes at him, “i hope you get put on more missions.” 

“you wound me.” he grunted, a hand over his heart feigning hurt but you knew that he was joking.

“you can take it.” you hummed, eyebrows scrunching as he stared down at you lovingly with a smile etched across his face.

there have been so many moments between you, satoru and the kids that blossomed with joy– something that felt lost in a world rife of evil– but you forget that you’re both still fairly young, thwarted into roles of guardians. you loved satoru since you were teens and seeing that this was your first relationship ever, it is only normal to feel insecure, and normal that you have doubts that satoru could ever truly love you.

while staring at satoru your mind can’t help but swirl with thoughts and he catches on immediately, perceptive as ever due to his six eyes and well, being gojo satoru. he sees it in your contemplative sighs that he had been hearing throughout the week, in your crafted smile, the way your shoulders are tensed and your jaw clenched: he knows you’re feeling some way right now because even your eyes don’t have their usual spark. your name rolls off his tongue so naturally, as if he was born to say it, as he reaches up to brush his hand across your cheek.

“what’s on your mind?” he questioned with a tilt of his head, thumb caressing your cheek. to him, the signs are as clear as day that you were troubled with thoughts of something and he wouldn’t rest until he found out what was going on in that beautiful mind of yours.

that warm fuzzy feeling intensified, secret moments between the two of you that the young girl was unaware of. it’s times like this you’re grateful that satoru is so in touch with how you felt most times and you can’t help the relief that settles in your heart when you realise you were so lucky to have him in your life, “it’s nothing,” you shook your head with a smile plastered on your face, “just… thank you for everything you did the other day,” you said, genuinely appreciative of his contribution to megumi’s birthday dinner, “i know you don’t think that he likes you but he really does look up to you.” you admitted.

“my charms aren’t all that bad.” he hummed, a proud nod as you snorted at his holier-than-thou tone.

your eyes closed at the soft contact of his lips on the crown of your head, warmth spreading all throughout your body during the cold winter month. you crave him and his touch, and you’re lucky that he hasn’t been put on any missions, specifically requested (he threatened the higher-ups knowing his status) to stay home with you and the others for just a couple of weeks. a small sigh left his lips as he started moving his hands away from your face up over his blindfold, the loss of contact made you pout slightly. your hand came over his, stopping him with a simple action, “are you sure you want them off?” you whispered, your voice dripping with concern.

“i want to see you.” he said, without an ounce of hesitation in his response. 

“i don’t like the migraines it gives you when you have them off.” you retaliated as you shook your head resolutely. he wants to listen to you, seeing how much you cared for him and laid your heart out for him. the love you had for him was overflowing and he did not know how he got so lucky.

“i can take it,” he insisted, voice a mix of both amusement and affection, “besides, i’ll endure any and all amounts of pain just for you.”

“after that declaration, i better not hear a complaint out of you.” you said, smiling up at him as you begin to unwrap the blindfold yourself. your delicate fingers moved the bandages around his head, undoing the white bandages. the gesture made satoru relax in your touch as you pulled them away from his face. being able to let his guard down after suguru had been difficult but you were a rare (and lucky) case.

once the bandages are undone, you can see that he’s wincing and squinting, probably due to the oversensitivity. adjusting to his surroundings, you brush his cheek with your thumb and his eyes flutter open to have a look at you, “hi beautiful.” he breathes out, utterly captivated by you.

you mirrored his look, squinting as you leaned forward with a smile wanting nothing more than to kiss him until– 

“what’s taking so long?” tsumiki yelled, surprising you and making the two of you jump from your spot. if satoru was masking his pain before, he wasn’t doing so now as he screwed his eyes shut and you feel extra protective of satoru now that his blindfold was off. he was extra sensitive to loud surroundings so when she came in shouting the two of you with his guard fully down, you knew satoru probably was still adjusting to having his blindfold off with the kids.

“did your brother put you up to this?” you asked.

“we were just wondering where you two were.” she replied bashfully.

“i told you they were kissing.” megumi groaned from behind her and if you weren’t embarrassed before, you wanted to dig your grave now that he had said it out loud.

“actually, we were rudely interrupted.” satoru complained, narrowing his eyes at megumi. living with them, you know how much megumi truly looked up to satoru but moments like this question why they were always at each other’s neck

megumi rolled his eyes, “have some manners you two,” you ordered, making tsumiki chuckle a bit, “i’m sorry for making you guys wait so long.” you apologised and you see megumi nod slightly at you.

“are you two in cahoots?” satoru whispered in your ear but you pushed him away jokingly. megumi was first to leave the room and tsumiki followed suit, but before satoru joined the two, you reached out grabbing his hand, “i know you said no presents this year, but-” you said, handing him a wrapped rectangular box.

“you said no presents for christmas.” he blurted out, confusion taking over his features.

“well, i sometimes doubt if you ever listen to me,” you looked up at him and you would be right because satoru had bought and wrapped your gift already, “just think of it as a very belated birthday present then.” you smiled at him, anticipating his reaction to your gift.

he opened the box carefully and he could see an engraving on a case, and his heart sunk. he knew he was in love with you, but was it possible to love you even more than he already had? he picked up the case and took out the special glasses he wore when he went out instead of the usual blindfold.

“i remember you said you needed new ones after they broke.”

“correction, when megumi broke my other ones.” he corrected. you rolled your eyes at him, and give him a light peck on the cheek, “thank you.” he spoke before you could make your way to help the children. 

“don’t break them again, i’m not made of money satoru.” you warned and situated yourself on the floor, sitting cross legged as you peered over at what the two had been up to when you and satoru were in the kitchen. tsumiki was unboxing some tinsel and megumi was taking care of the ornaments. to be honest, you weren’t sure when you became one of those families who went full out for christmas. the only things you ever really did was presents or stockings and having dinner together. you were overlooking the process, not really helping, or rather not knowing how to as you had never really had a tree let alone decorate one. 

“you’re not going to help?” tsumiki questioned, with a tilt of her head as she began to decorate the tree.

all the attention is turned to you now as you shake your head untangling some of the lights for the tree, “i mean, i’ve never really celebrated christmas with a tree and it’s for you guys right?”

“that’s sick and twisted!” satoru gasped, slumping down right next to you with his new sunglasses, “so you mean you’ve never had a christmas tree?” he exclaimed, and quite frankly you don’t really see the big deal.

“i wasn’t blessed with being born into a family like yours.” you teased and he took serious offence to that, not because he was offended by your comment but more so your nonchalance. 

“well, anything you want to do for christmas?” megumi asked, putting some of the ornaments on the tree. he always had an artistic perspective and you were glad he was putting so much thought into where each one went.

“i’m not going to be home until late at night, but i guess i’ve always wanted it to snow big enough that i could build a snowman.” you shrugged, looking at the kids.

“that’s impossible.” megumi groaned.

“how are we going to get it to snow?” she exclaimed.

“exactly. it’s alright,” you reassured as you stood up from your spot, “as long as i’ve got you guys, that’s all i could ask for.” you winked at them as you helped them get to the higher spots of the tree. satoru sits there watching as you now start to help the two decorate the tree and decide to help out. you are too distracted to see that his mind is swirling with ideas– he is determined to make your christmas a little more special and he has some ideas up his sleeve that he can’t wait to use.

you feel the exhaustion of staying up late last night settle deep into your bones when you’re on your way home from the mission. it wasn’t like you didn’t get enough sleep, you got just the perfect amount but not being home today to celebrate with the kids and satoru kind of made your heart sink. it had always been the four of you the entire day and sometimes occasionally with the others but being away from home, away from them had taken a big toll on your heart.

you wiped at your eyes with a yawn as you began making your way down the path to your house. the cool winter night was in full swing, trees moving slightly in the small rush of wind that passed by along with the small sprinkles of snow.  you took a deep breath and rubbed over your arms as you looked up at the sky. you weren’t lying when you said you wanted snow, it had always been a dream of yours to see falling snow, and enough that it might be enough to build a snowman, it was just something that hadn’t happened in a long time. 

you reached the house but the eerily quietness and lack of light concerned you, were they watching a movie or something or did they go out and not tell you beforehand? you brushed off your worries, unlocking the door walking into an empty house. the whole room was dark, nothing could be heard and your heart was stuck in your chest, stopping at just the mere thought of not being completely alone right now. 

you could hear some whispers and instinctively your hand went up, charging up your cursed technique as you hear some shuffling until an array of fairy lights went off above you, decorated meticulously going up the stairs and some nice garlands all around, warm lighting and while you’re staring at the lights, you don’t notice the three standing right in front of you.

“welcome home.” they shouted, and you swear you had felt that much relief in your entire life.

“i could’ve hurt you guys!” you exclaimed, a hand over your heart. the soft vinyl record you distinctly remember shoko gifting you after seeing you eye it last christmas playing from the living room, and you couldn’t help but smile.

“well that defeats the whole point of a surprise if i told you, right guys?” he said, and it is only now you realise that he has a santa hat on with the other two in ugly sweaters. you know megumi would be less than happy to be dressed in this right now but you assume he did so for you and couldn’t help the way the corner of your lips curved up at the sight. this… this is what you loved about your little family, and you knew it was wrong to call it a family– the two kids aren’t yours, and you’re not married to satoru but this moment, combined with the cute late night you shared with them just the night prior confirmed that you were all closer than that and how much they loved you.

“you did not need to do this for me,” you sighed, a little overwhelmed by how well decorated everything was. you hadn’t even noticed the holly, the bells, candles, and a bunch of other festive decorations– they really went all out. you wonder just how they pulled it all together but then you remembered that satoru would stop at nothing when it came to his gestures, “and you definitely did not need to drag them into this.” you added, kneeling down in front of them so that you could hug tsumiki and as you stood up you looked at megumi and ruffled his hair despite how much you know he hated when satoru did it, when you did it, you weren’t met with the same grumpy huff.

satoru gasped, “hey, these two were asking if you’d like them and i pointed them in one direction okay?” he defended but as you looked down at the two they were shaking their heads as if to refute his words, “don’t listen to them. they did it because they love you just as much as i do.”

respectfully, you hated satoru but not in a way that was malicious but for always making you feel like the luckiest person on earth. for being friends with you back then when it seemed like the world wasn’t on your side, for allowing you to stay in his life after losing his friend, for letting you take care of two of the most beautiful children ever. he was one of the sweetest people you ever knew and you doubt any gift or gesture would be enough to make up for the man that he is. without realising you had tears stream down your face, and you bring your hand up over your face to cover it. you weren’t usually the type to cry over something so trivial but here you were.

“i can’t believe you made y/n cry on christmas.” megumi complained, trying to lighten the mood as tsumiki’s mouth dropped.

"y/n's fine!" satoru reassured and you can’t help but laugh as you wiped away some of the tears. before you could speak satoru went over to you, engulfing you in a hug, “you better not apologise for crying. there’s nothing you need to be sorry for.” he reassured, rubbing circles on your back. you nod profusely, trying to keep yourself calm in front of the others (not that they’d never seen you cry before) before pulling away from the hug. you stared into his cerulean eyes, out and free from their usual blindfold or glasses, “it’s nice to see you my love.” he whispered, meant only for your ears. 

you chuckled, pressing your lips into his cheek before turning around, “how about we open some gifts? how does that sound?” you smiled and their eyes lit up, brighter than the lights all inside the house and they scattered off like little mice to the living room where the tree was, with quite a few presents under the tree (courtesy of satoru’s money but joint in terms of thinking of what to get them) and you followed behind. satoru threw his arm over your shoulder as you took a seat on the couch as they got ready to unwrap their gifts.

“are you hungry?” he asked softly as they started unwrapping their gifts, the one in the penguin wrapping paper which satoru had wrapped up himself.

“i had something to eat on the way back.” you reassured and he nodded.

the two had spent quite a while opening satoru’s gifts. you noticed that the presents were some things the two children had mentioned once a very long time ago and were quite surprised that satoru had hand picked these gifts himself without asking you for help. you knew that he noticed every little detail about the people in his life but it made you wonder if he got you a gift after you said not to. you wouldn’t be mad if he didn’t get you one and vice versa.

“i got you that one.” you spoke, trying to contain your excitement as megumi picked up your gift, wrapped in some candy cane paper. you watched as he unwrapped it, revealing a digital camera and you hear tsumiki exclaim, excited for her gift now.

“a camera?”

you sat up, moving away from satoru as you leaned forward, “i know there aren’t that many pictures of you guys around the house so i got you that so we could start printing some out and putting them up.” 

megumi couldn’t hold in his gratitude any longer bringing you in for a hug, “thank you y/n.” he said, and you hugged him back, kissing him on the cheek. satoru was going to make a comment about how he also wanted a hug after all the gifts he gave but it was a special moment shared between the two of you and he was not going to ruin the moment.

as megumi was setting up his camera with satoru’s help, you turned to tsumiki and watched as she unwrapped her own gift, she looked up from the box to you with shock all over her face, “y/n…” she whispered, voice cracking, “i can’t take this.” she said, handing you back the box.

“hey.. it's okay,” you reassured, lightly pushing the box back in her direction, “it’s a gift tsumiki.” 

you watched her pull out the necklace, the stunning small heart shaped engraved with her initial on it but that wasn’t all you got her. after observing the necklace and helping her put it on, she opened a box that contained a letter, telling her of how much you adored her with special keepsakes from some memories you shared throughout the year. you have never seen her so happy and when she hugged you, you catch the stare that satoru is giving you– absolutely entranced by how much you loved them. a simple flash takes you off guard as megumi takes his first picture on the camera.

“how about you guys get your coats, i have something to give y/n.” satoru stated and they ran off with excitement in their bones at his plan. he had filled them in but they weren't convinced he could pull it off.

“talk about a successful night.” you chuckled, picking up the wrapping paper and throwing it in the bag that satoru was holding. 

“get changed.” he spoke, taking the bag from you and now it’s your turn to be surprised again.

“what? where are we going?”

after getting changed, suspicion arising from his sudden ask of getting changed. you walk out of your room seeing everyone in their coats, scarves, and you watch as the children begin to walk out first leaving the two of you alone. 

“what are you up to satoru?” you questioned, furrowing your brows. 

“since you thought you could cheat your way around buying me a gift,” he replied honestly, which took you off guard, “i thought it was only fair if i got you some things as well.” there was a small box in his hand, and you took it from his hand. you held your breath as you unwrapped the paper to see a box tied with a ribbon. you opened the box, revealing nothing but a sheet of paper.

you definitely weren’t the ungrateful type but you were expecting something else like maybe a ring, a necklace or something else but as you examined the paper you looked up at him with your mouth wide open. it was a receipt of something you had been eyeing for a couple months but nothing you could excuse spending money on. you had been an avid lover since you were young and it was always your dream to have one of these.

“satoru.” you said, honestly starstruck at his gift.

“you have been eyeing that for so long,” he reasoned with a simple nudge of the shoulder, "merry christmas."

“i can’t accept this.” you shook your head, giving it back to him but you know it is relentless to deny his gifts especially after you pulled your little secret gift on him the other day.

satoru gave you a stare and pursed his lip, “you are keeping it. end of discussion.” he smiled as he started to wrap a scarf around you. satoru had always looked good in winter clothing, a scarf tucked around his neck and due to his infinity, he was never cold but still dressed to the occasion with his designer brands. he was so handsome…

“and since you’re not saying anything i'm assuming you don't like it?” he taunted. you told your brain to make a coherent sentence or at least move so you don’t make a fool of yourself just looking at the gift. you stared up at him, you used your free hand to push the scarf down from the bottom half of your face, "you know i thought you weren't going to get me anything?"

satoru had never stopped at any words faster than he had those, "what?" he answered with a shaky voice.

you scoffed holding his hand in yours, looking anywhere but into his eyes, "i thought you might do a whole 'i'm your gift' thing," you admitted, a little ashamed you had such little faith in him, "i guess you do love me."

"y/n..." he uttered, "if i have ever made you doubt i love you then i have failed as your boyfriend," he spoke and you could feel your whole body warm at his words. "you are everything to me even if you and megumi are in cahoots and pray on my downfall." he said and you shoved him. he winced lightly at the push and smiled as he pulled you close to him once more, eyes moving down to your lips then back up to your eyes.

“that was really sweet of you.” you uttered, looking up at him.

“sweet enough for a kiss?”

“unless you make it snow, i’m not kissing you.” 

“i think i deserve just one…” he teased as he leaned closer to you.

a hand suddenly grabbed yours, tsumiki's gloved one, and once again stealing that moment between you and satoru, "y/n! didn't you hear me?" she gasped as you saw the wet snow on her coat go from crystal into a wet drop.

"what happened? is megumi okay? are you okay?" you asked, hand brushing over her face as if to check for any injuries.

"it's snowing!" she exclaimed as she made her way back out.

you looked over at satoru baffled but you could just see him smile at you mischievously and you run out and to your surprise, the snow is pouring down from the sky and you now know that your christmas wish has been satisfied. looking up at the sky, you put your hand out as the snow falls into your hand and you chuckle even though you are freezing your ass off.

the children began throwing snowballs at each other and one hits you at the back of the head and you turn to see all three of them standing there staring at you. they all point at gojo before you decide to pick up some snow for yourself throwing it at him back, thankful his infinity was still down.

you truly appreciate satoru doing his best to make you happy because it was all you ever wanted. he got a snowball in the face before falling down on the floor, and all of you chuckled at him landing on his back as he began to sit up, snow covering his whole back side and all in his hair.

you knelt in the snow and began to make the snowman you've always wanted to during christmas with the help of the two and when you're done you notice him standing at the front porch just staring as tsumiki started doing snow angels and megumi's two wolf shikigami joining him in the snow. you don't know when he let them out but you just smiled as you approached satoru, "what are you doing here?"

"just admiring you," he complimented and you shake your head, "did i do okay?"

you stare at him in bewilderment before moving to press a kiss to his cheek, "you did well satoru. more than that if possible."

he smiled cheekily and you move your hand to drag him back into the snow, "come on..." you hummed as you tried to pull him away from the front porch but he refused to move and you stare at him with a tilt of the head, "what's wrong?"

"you said you would kiss me if i made it snow.” he recalled, hand on his chin as he tried to refresh your memory.

“how the hell did you manage to make it snow?” you snickered but he didn’t look like he was joking. you don’t know how he managed, he would never say but you shook your head, “sorry babe, i don’t think you can control the weather… it is quite unpredictable.” you shrugged, giving him a fake guilty look.

“it’s a christmas miracle!” he yelped with his smile that you know and have grown to adore so much and you follow his gaze to the mistletoe above your head, "you know the rules." he seethed trying to seem nonchalant.

"you're an idiot," you laughed before holding his face in your hands, tiptoeing a bit before pressing your lips to his. you pulled away and brushed his lips with your thumb a little, "i love you satoru, always."

he could only pull you back in for another kiss, smiling as he did so as the kids exclaimed in disgust and horror at the sight. "i love you y/n. here's to many more years with you." he whispered when he pulled away. it was a christmas you will never forget and one that tsumiki and megumi will also never forget, dramatically reminding you that they were traumatised from your little kiss.

tags! @stsgluver @sukxma (thank you for hosting the event)

i hope you love this lynne, i apologise it's not my best work and i'm sorry it took so long. i love you, i hope you're doing well

[transmutationisms]

Hey, I've been delving into anti psychiatry readings but one thing always stands out to me: if there is no underlying disease behind a depressive state, for example, how does that new paradigm not end up placing the blame on the patient? I ask in good faith as I still don't have a clear answer on that regard, and would like to have better conversations about this topic that don't end when people tell me of a close relative with depression who has seemingly had a life free of traumas that could otherwise present as depression.

-materialist (marxist) anti psychiatry identifies the root 'cause' or basis of psychological experiences in the economic and material conditions of existence. depression or other forms of distress, just like other affective states, derive fundamentally from the world we live in, our political situation, the material alienation of estranged labour that underlies 'alienation' the psychological state. this doesn't mean that resolving the contradictions of capitalism (that is, workers' revolution) will magically eliminate all sources of distress, depression, or other currently pathologised experiences. however, it would certainly resolve / eliminate some distress for some people; additionally, it is the only way to overcome the capitalist paradigm that values people by their adherence to a normative standard of ability, which is what renders depressed people (for example) economically marginalised 'failed citizens'

-keeping the above in mind, i would question whether there is really such thing as a person who 'has no trauma' ie, has no material basis for alienation, depression, or distress. capitalism is an estranging system, including for the owner class (though of course this occurs in a different way to the labouring class, and i am not suggesting that the bourgeoisie are the 'victims' of capitalism or some such)

-none of the above is mutually exclusive with the role that an individual's neurobiology plays in their subjective or psychological state. like any base/superstructure phenomenon, the relationship is dialectical, with the material base generally dominating, but both acting on and being affected by superstructural phenomena. economic and material conditions lead to subjective experiences such as depressions; these experiences are also instantiated in, reacting to, and reacted upon by the physiological processes in the brain/body. however, when we say that depression (for example) is not a disease we mean that there is no biological entity---no infectious pathogen, no 'chemical imbalance', no organic lesion, no anatomical defect or physiological malfunction---that is identifiable as a single cause or correlate of depressed states, nor will there ever be; the psychiatric label is a heuristic catch-all applied to a constellation of experiences (symptoms) that are varying degrees of disagreeable to individuals (patients) as well as to medical and state authorities

-i think it's overly credulous to the psychiatric profession to assert that calling something a disease means that no one can 'blame the patient' for it. in fact i would say it would be difficult to name a disease that doctors, state authorities, and society at large does NOT blame on patients

-i also think it's overly credulous to the psychiatric profession to assert that there is a dichotomy between neurobiological diseases and things that are individual faults or failings. in fact i would posit that most subjective experiences, including of distress, are neither

[fatkish]

First time asking 🤭🤭 but I wanted to make a request for upper moon demon Kokushibo x hashira fem/reader headcanons with him as a lover (sfw and nsfw, if you’re comfortable writing it ofc👉👈 (˶˃⤙˂˶)

Kokushibo x Hashira Fem Reader HC’s

SFW + NSFW

Kokushibo must have seen something in you, maybe it was your resolve or bravery to face him knowing that you’d most certainly die, or maybe it was your strength

Either way, whatever it was, congratulations, you’ve gotten his attention

Your relationship was definitely rough at the start

Perhaps you kept running into him during your patrols

Every time you came across him you’d have a short battle, maybe exchange some flirtatious words and then eventually he’d leave

No matter what, you kept coming back and so did he

Every night you’d stop him from eating people but you’d get hurt in the process

Eventually you just flat out asked him why he became a demon if he was a demon slayer

He then revealed to you the truth about the demon crest and what it would mean for those who awakened it

One night, you saw him and stood next to him, you asked him if he was ever lonely

Surprised by your disregard for the rules, you sat down beside him and laid back, looking up at the stars, completely ignoring the fact that he could kill you

When he mentioned that you were being foolish about letting your guard down, and that he could kill you, you simply replied with ‘and yet, you still haven’t’ and patted the grass besides you

Kokushibo decided to sit down next to you

You asked him again if he was ever lonely being a demon

He told you it had its moments

You asked if it was worth becoming a demon

He told you it was

You then sat up and looked him straight in the eye and told him, “I don’t think you’re evil. I don’t want to kill you, but I have to make sure that you don’t kill anyone, if you’re willing to not eat anyone, I’ll let you drink my blood whenever you’re hungry”

To say he was surprised by your sincerity was an understatement, he was shocked but didn’t show it much

That’s likely how your relationship came to be

Kokushibo started to develop feelings for you and you for him

He would stay at your estate (Kagaya already knows and has allowed it since he believes that you may yet change Kokushibo and that he will change his ways) during the day

At night you both would train, he’d teach you and you’d become stronger

One of the things Kokushibo loves is when you rake your nails and scratch his scalp. Running your fingers through his hair, gently combing his hair whilst scratching his scalp. He’ll lay his head in your lap while you do this

If you’re cold, he’ll let you snuggle up to him. He’ll sit down with a blanket around his shoulder, once you sit next to him, he’ll wrap his arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer

He would go on patrols with you and watch you from a distance

When you both learned that Nezuko had conquered the sun, you decided that Kokushibo should get treatment from Tamayo so that he’d no longer be under Muzan’s control

When the final battle came, Muzan didn’t expect Kokushibo to defect and help in fighting him

You and Kokushibo were an immense help and you both managed to survive the final battle

After losing most of your friends and having awoken your own demon crest, Kokushibo proposed that you become a demon to which you agreed

You and Kokushibo built a house together, you both live together and you watched as your friends grew and passed away

You learned medicine and you and Kokushibo both are able to survive off of small amounts of blood alone

You both run a small nighttime clinic similar to what Tamayo did, you supply Yushiro with blood

Although you were saddened by the loss of your friends, Kokushibo stayed by your side as you grieved

As time went on, you and Kokushibo would both come to love the other more

Eventually as things settled, Kokushibo would become more bold

You still enjoy food so when you would cook, Kokushibo would come up from behind you and wrap his arms around you

During the day, you both would sleep

Eventually you both learned to gain energy from sleeping, and you both decided to then open a small dojo

Kokushibo enjoyed teaching the art of swordsmanship to young people

At night, sometimes you both didn’t do much sleeping

Kokushibo is a very passionate lover. He dovotes himself entirely to you and your pleasure

If you haven’t cum at least three times, then he believes he’s done something wrong

He’ll lay you down and run his hand all over your body, slowly caressing you and mapping out your body

His kisses are slow and deep, making sure to convey his vast love for you

He’ll use his fingers to explore your insides, curling and scissoring you, making your toes curl

He’s very methodical with his approach to sex, taking his time and making sure to feel everything

He’ll pinch and nip at your chest, taking his time to mark your chest with love bites, giving each breast and nipple, through attention

By the time he reaches your nethers, he’ll have already brought you to the edge and back at least twice

He’ll then spread your legs and begin to feast on you, using his tongue to explore every inch of you, slowly and steadily licking and sucking on every inch of your sensitive flesh

The way he eats you out makes you see stars, he’ll bite and suck on you, shoving his tongue deep inside you, twirling it around as he grips your thighs

When you cum on his face, he makes sure to swallow and collect every last drop of cum you have to offer

Once you’re throughly prepared in his eyes, then he’ll gently and slowly sink himself inside you

Making sure he feels each and every inch of your silken vice like flesh, letting you slowly swallow his entire length

Once he’s fully sheathed inside you, he’ll slowly begin to thrust, taking his time and feeling every inch before pushing back in

He’ll use his thumb to circle your clit or pump your dick while he slowly thrusts

His slow pace is enough to drive you mad

When he starts to speed up, he’s changing the angle and begins to aim for your g-spot/prostate

Once he’s found it he doesn’t stop his assault on it, he’ll abuse it until he’s done for the night

As he speeds up his thrusts are getting harder and rougher, making your insides clench down on him

He’ll start kissing you and biting at your neck as he speeds up

When you cum on his cock he fucks you through your orgasm

[gojonanami]

"JUST A LITTLE LONGER" - SATORU GOJO

✴︎ summary: after geto defects, you find yourself on a roof of a building wondering where things went wrong - and you're not the only one. based off another scene from apothecary diaries. ✴︎ contents: gojo x f!reader, fluff, angst about geto, gojo cries, reader does too a little, but cuddling from behind, i love this scene so much it's so cute, and jinshi is so gojo coded ✴︎ wc: 821

This was probably a stupid idea. 

And it was, you knew that, but it didn’t stop you from doing it anyway. A cursed spirit could kill you any day, so what was falling off a roof? Besides, you took another shot of sake, you couldn’t quite bring yourself to care about the possible chance of falling to your death after today. 

Suguru was gone. 

Defected, after slaughtering so many people — or monkeys as he called them now. There was no changing his mind — no going back. Suguru was a person of conviction — you supposed he still was. Shoko simply went with the flow, Satoru knew what his duties were, and you — you didn’t know what you were doing, but you thought maybe it was enough if you could help just one person every day. Especially if that person was one of your friends. 

And yet you didn’t see one of your friends needing your help, did you? 

So why were you sitting up on the roof of one of Jujutsu Tech’s buildings? You didn’t know either — you had a whole suite of aloneness you could have drank in, but you choose to take a shot in the same place that you, Suguru, Shoko, and Satoru drank in on late nights between assignments. 

Shoko would tease you — too sentimental for your own good — that’s what she always told you, but you couldn’t help it. Not after a night like this. But sitting up here wouldn’t resolve anything would it? 

And you began to carefully climb down, thinking about how much easier it was when Suguru used a cursed spirit to help you up (even when he really wasn’t supposed to summon them on campus). Fuck, your eyes burn with tears. You missed him— 

Your foot slips, as you fall backwards, into the awaiting arms — more like the awaiting body of someone below. You hear a grunt as you tumble backwards into them, your body and mind in shock, wondering what person you possibly murdered with your stupidity. 

“Satoru? What are you doing here?” 

“I should be asking you that,” Satoru grumbled at you as you turned to face him, “y'know when I joked that you would be falling for me, this isn’t what I meant,” 

“Oh really? Because this is exactly what I had in mind,” you snort, and you move to get up, but he’s pulling you back with a hand around your wrist, “Toru, let me get off of you—” 

“No, it’s cold,” he pouts, and now you really take a look at him — he wasn’t wearing his glasses for once, his hair unkempt at best, and his uniform all too disheveled — and his face, porcelain skin flushed red — and the faint smell of—was that— “are you drunk?” Satoru wasn't one to drink, but you supposed it wasn't for the act of it as it was the effect.

And it may have been the moonlight, but you swore he flushed further, before he’s forcing you to turn back around, pulling you further into his lap, his arms around your middle, “Maybe,” he mumbles, “I could say the same to you,” and you spot the bottle of sake on the ground in the grass, somehow not broken, “reminiscing about old times?” he pressed his forehead against your shoulder. 

“Yeah,” you sigh, teeth baring down on your bottom lip, as his breath warmed your neck, his hair tickling your skin as he leaned closer, “when did it go wrong?” 

“More like when did i go wrong?” he mutters, words all too bitter, “I should have seen it — I should have done more—” 

“No one saw it, we didn’t realize how bad it had gotten for him since Riko,” you whispered, “none of us—” 

“You weren’t his best friend—” 

“Me and Shoko were there too,” you cut him off, “we were there too,” you say quietly, “either way, Suguru made his choices, just as we did. And there’s nothing more we can do, except for what we can do here,” and then you add, “and it isn’t your fault.” 

“Why not?” 

“Because i said so,” and he laughs then, a genuine laugh. 

“Yes, ma’am,” he replies, before burying his face in the nape of your neck, his nose tickling you, and despite the cool air of the approaching fall, your body was now burning. 

“Toru—you’re tickling me—” and he’s only pulling you closer, as you finally glance back at him, “Toru—” and your words fall away, as you see a tear slip down his cheek, his eyes shut. 

“Just a little longer,” he says, barely above a whisper, his face pressed against your shoulder again, as his arms tighten around your middle, “warm me up for a little bit more,” 

You stare up at the night sky, stars dotting the night sky — such a beautiful night despite it all — as you finally let your tears slip down your cheeks silently, “I’ll stay as long as you want.” 

And you did, forever. 

✴︎ a/n: i hope this doesn't flop like my other fics lately, but oh well lol. i wrote this quick little thing now, so forgive any typos.

✴︎ taglist: @forest-hashira, @anondrive, @neon-crow, @forest-fruits-jam, @yukuriku, @lxvegojo

[mindblowingscience]

For 200 years, scientists have failed to grow a common mineral in the laboratory under the conditions believed to have formed it naturally. Now, a team of researchers from the University of Michigan and Hokkaido University in Sapporo, Japan have finally succeeded, thanks to a new theory developed from atomic simulations. Their success resolves a long-standing geology mystery called the "Dolomite Problem." Dolomite—a key mineral in the Dolomite mountains in Italy, Niagara Falls, the White Cliffs of Dover and Utah's Hoodoos—is very abundant in rocks older than 100 million years, but nearly absent in younger formations. "If we understand how dolomite grows in nature, we might learn new strategies to promote the crystal growth of modern technological materials," said Wenhao Sun, the Dow Early Career Professor of Materials Science and Engineering at U-M and the corresponding author of the paper published today in Science. The secret to finally growing dolomite in the lab was removing defects in the mineral structure as it grows. When minerals form in water, atoms usually deposit neatly onto an edge of the growing crystal surface. However, the growth edge of dolomite consists of alternating rows of calcium and magnesium.

Continue Reading.

[moonooma]

PAC: Wishes from your past self

Disclaimer: As I am not a professional reader, all of the posts are to be taken with a grain of salt. This is a general reading, so some things might not resonate. Regardless of the situation, please remember that tarot portrays only one of the multiple scenarios of your life and you choose whether to follow it or not.

(1->2, 3->4)

Group 1

Cards: The Star, Seven of Wands, Five of Coins Rx, Ace of Coins (bottom of the deck: Page of Coins)

Who is your past self?

A dreamer was the first thing that came to my mind - the Star is a symbol of hope, resolve in the darkness of our lives, as well as life’s brightest days. In your past you might have struggled financially or might have had a defective relationship with your family, friends, which had left you wishing for more, to receive what you unfairly didn’t get just because life dealt you an unfair hand. The young girl looks at the sky praying that things will get better, and the one who wishes shall be rewarded: the toys, the friends, the love you felt you lacked played in the back of your mind, in your daydreams, till they could one day become the steps you build your better future on

Your current situation:

The Seven of Wands shows that you’re currently working hard on achieving what you believe in, to ensure your future, possibly even driven by the feeling of lacking that got imprinted into your memory as a result of your life growing up. Though we didn’t quite get to the wishes part, I feel like you need to be reminded to listen to your body and take occasional breaks, as you might be prone to overworking yourself to a nearly unhealthy extent. Your body needs to be rested in order to offer you the energy and strength you need, otherwise you won’t be fighting but windmills

What do they wish you these holidays?

Generally I felt a truly pleasant energy coming through, as if your past self is truly happy you are achieving so much for both of you. Nonetheless, they wish you to feel less lonely and powerless these holidays. Release the fears of your past and embrace acceptance, the future you are creating for yourself one step after another. They are clearly hinting you should get out of your walls slowly but surely and embrace the warmth of relationships that could come if you are to accept them into your life

How can you make it come true?

Nourish your dreams and even the wildest wish shall come true. Page of Coins signifies a new beginning and so does te Ace of Coins. Your work is seen and it will be rewarded, you just need to continue for it to flourish. If by any chance you had any new business idea, no matter how grand or insignificant, the cards are confirming it could aid you into bringing financial abundance into your life. Don’t give up! Your manifestation, whether mental or physical will come into being - nothing lasting is built in a day

Group 2

Cards: Four of Cups Rx, Strength Rx, Two of Swords, Queen of Swords (bottom of the deck: Five of Swords)

Who is your past self?

At first when the card felt I thought your past self had a somewhat privileged upbringing, diving more into it however, I believe this person was more of a gifted individual than a spoiled one, perhaps too gifted for their own preference - “ignorance is bliss”. The more you see and understand the easier it becomes a curse, does it not? You seem to have been quite the achiever, someone who managed quite a lot at their young age, be it actual contests or a general showcase of intellect and talent, yet you didn’t seem to derive too much joy from it as to you it might have been something normal “just the usual” (INTX vibes) even though to others it could be unthinkable

Your current situation

Combined with the previous card, I’m inclined to believe you identify yourself as a “burnt out gifted child” with a well-defined impostor syndrome. You overthink a lot, and it is just as much your downfall. The more you go down the rabbit hole, the less you believe in yourself and the potential you hold within. You are your own jailer and saviour, you merely ought to choose which side to pick depending on what you prefer: the familiarity of wailing in your own darkness or opening your eyes to what you can do with the gifts presented to you on a silver plate - nobody else will do this for you, trust me, some problems can be only solved by ourselves, though it doesn’t mean we cannot ask for guidance in the process

What do they wish you?

Your past self wants you to choose what to do next. The Two of Swords is blind thus asks for introspection before walking any of the paths presented. Truth is, there’s always fear in the unknown, but is the destruction that the known brings worth not taking a leap of faith? You can continue denying the lifestyle you have, continue living with the fear of failing in the real life, but in the end what use of a life you cannot truly say you live?

How can you make it come true?

Find the balance between being rational and destructive - quite frequently even dearest mind can become our greatest enemy, your duty is to figure out the line at which freedom and self-imprisonment separate. You are undoubtedly a bright individual, all you need is to discern fairly between what serves you and what does not - cutting off bad habits, influences is hard, but in the end some threads are meant to be severed so you can see the actual one you shall follow to the end of the labyrinth

Group 3

Cards: Four of Swords Rx, Knight of Coins, Five of Swords, The Wheel of Fortune Rx, Seven of Cups Rx (bottom of the deck: Four of Wands)

Who is your past self?

Your past self most likely had to undergo serious transformations on an innate level, in a reality where they felt chained by circumstance. The card depicts being restrained for worldly good, as such, the painful events you once had to navigate served as a basis for becoming the one you needed the most and perhaps the one universe needed you to become the most. Suffering, while constraining on a mental level, drove you further to work on your actual soul and possibly even material goals, regardless of how hard it might have seemed. Your past self knew they had to get out, somewhere else mapped in their mind, and they did, or at least they came so much closer to it than they have ever been before

Your current situation

It seems that life has yet again brought you another unpleasant lesson. Five of Swords describes the energy of betrayal, disappointment and apparent defeat, though the victim of one battle doesn’t necessarily remain the one to surrender in the war. You have most likely been treated unfairly, despite everything you have done to this moment, and it tears your heart once more, possibly reopening wounds which you have been mending for the past few years I have mentioned in the previous paragraph

What do they wish you?

They want you to believe in the Universe and it’s infinitely variable essence - the wheel is always spinning and those who have once taken from you against your will shall be given the same treatment, but this time on divine terms. All the good karma shall be rewarded, all you need is to trust in it. These battles will be over eventually and you shall find respite and happiness, together with those you hold close, the allies you met along the way

How can you make it come true?

Focus on what you feel calls to you the most and do not share you energy and time left and right for what does not serve you. You are undoubtedly strong, but you need to also be wise about where is your strength needed - we are not meant to be endless wells, for the beauty of the energy we hold is what we choose to do with it. Your past self doesn’t want you to think about all the buts and ifs and look ahead instead and face the reality, escaping from the dreamscape of possibilities, possibly shaped inclusively by your own fears or lack of satisfaction with the hand you’ve been dealt

Group 4

Cards: The Moon Rx, Three of Cups, Two of Wands Rx, Knight of Coins (bottom of the deck: Ace of Cups)

Who is your past self?

The reversed Moon is a symbol of looking behind the magical veil of illusion, meaning to break the rose coloured sunglasses and realise that delusion, while sweet, remains exactly that - nothing but an empty hope clashing with a reality we don’t always dare to accept. Most likely, your past self had managed to learn that earlier than most, sensing things that most of your peers couldn’t even care to understand, and that, while a blessing made you also stand out a lot, to those who could see it - “you’re so mature for your age” is possibly something you have once heard being said in your address quite a lot and not for no reason. 

Your current situation

You seem to have a clear reason to celebrate given the Three of Cups, but they seemed to want to stay covered, thus it’s probable you cannot fully accept your success for some reason. With the bottom of the deck being the Ace of Cups, I am inclined to believe it could be related to a new emotional beginning in your life, perhaps even a romantic relationship that you are yet to fully process and accept. I feel as if you harbour a certain fear related to how good these events actually are and whether they will be there with you for longer. Life taught you that everything is ephemeral, even more the happy moments, and that a once happy moment can become the nightmare of another night, but you are yet to convince yourself that it doesn’t mean you shouldn’t let yourself enjoy it while you can.

What do they wish you?

Do not let fears overcome you and live the moment, embrace the future and accept the past, allowing yourself to be open to new horizons waiting for you. They want you to be more decisive about the opportunities you are presented, without falling into doubt - you have everything you need to navigate forward, no need to fear the unknown, because frequently it is in the unknown we discover true meanings

How can you make it come true?

Working and trusting the process is the key - being a little stubborn about what you dream of is by no means childish, nor egoistical, it is a demonstration of how much you matter to yourself. While you might be right that every banquet has an end, it doesn’t always mean the end will be bad, or that the end won’t bring a private party instead - you are allowed to want good things to happen without having to always be “objective” “realistic” about it, and who knows, maybe the banquet shall continue

Credits for the divider to @/cafekitsune

None of the pictures are mine. All of the pictures are from Pinterest

[rottenpumpkin13]

Vincent the time traveller in the vents but now it's Hojo who's suffering.

He starts having accidents like falling down the stairs and breaking bones but the cameras nor the Turks find the culprit. He becomes paranoid when he starts hearing the voice of Valentine mocking him and it gets worse when he finds he's the only one who seems to hear it.

*Hojo is pacing back and forth in his office while Tseng and Sephiroth sit calmly in front of the desk*

Hojo: This is unacceptable. I've been pushed down stairs, my lab equipment is sabotaged, and now there is a voice in the vents mocking me.

Tseng: Perhaps you're imagining things, Professor.

Hojo: I know what I heard! There's a voice mocking every action I take, and I want this resolved by both SOLDIER and the turks immediately.

Vincent, from the vents: "Cuck."

Hojo:

Sephiroth:

Tseng: Perhaps the vents are defective.

Hojo: Do you not hear that!?

Tseng: No, no. We hear it. We just don't think it's a voice of mockery as you say.

Hojo: Really?? And what do you call that!?

Vincent, from the vents: "You are a pathetic human being."

Sephiroth: Insightful commentary.

Hojo:

[city-of-ladies]

A complex figure, Irene of Athens (c.750/755 - 803) was the first woman to rule the Byzantine Empire in her own name. For over two decades, she dominated imperial politics with a rare blend of resilience, cunning, and charisma. She also stood out for her philanthropic initiatives and enduring cultural legacy.

Empress consort

Irene was born in Athens between 750 and 755, into the Sarantapechos family—a locally influential clan of unclear standing, likely outside the upper echelons of the aristocracy. Her marriage to the young Emperor Leo IV in 769 was likely arranged to bind Greece more closely to Constantinople’s authority. Irene arrived in the capital that November and was crowned empress shortly after.

Her father-in-law, Constantine V, was a staunch iconoclast, while Irene already showed signs of favoring the veneration of religious images—a theological rift that may have created tension with her husband.

In 771, Irene gave birth to her only child, Constantine VI. When Leo IV died suddenly in 780, she was left to protect both her son’s inheritance and her own position.

Irene in power

Irene swiftly seized control of the government, and she and her son were proclaimed co-rulers. But her authority was soon challenged. Leo’s half-brothers, each holding the title of Caesar, conspired to overthrow her and install the eldest, Nikephoros, as emperor.

Irene dealt with them decisively. She punished their supporters and forced the princes into clerical life, effectively neutralizing their claim. Symbolically, she had them serve at the Great Church during Christmas Mass and restored a crown that her husband had removed from the Hagia Sophia—an act rich in political and religious significance.

She soon appeared alongside her son on imperial coinage and took a leading role in foreign affairs. In 781, she arranged his betrothal to Rotrude, daughter of Charlemagne.

Aware of her precarious position, Irene surrounded herself with loyal servants, notably eunuchs, whom she promoted to high office. Though often capable, their presence in military leadership roles drew resentment from the army. As a woman unable to lead troops herself, Irene depended on these trusted men—and the strategy was not without consequences, for some of her allies later proved treacherous and corrupt.

In 781, she dispatched an expedition suppress a rebellion in Sicily, which successfully restored Byzantine control over the island. Yet in the East, her policy faltered: a general defected during a campaign against the Arabs—perhaps out of hatred for the eunuch Staurakios, or due to Irene’s purge of Constantine V’s loyalists. The fallout forced her to pay a massive tribute to secure peace.

Pacifying Thrace

On the northern frontier, however, Irene scored lasting victories. In 784, she sent Staurakios to campaign against Slavic tribes in Thrace and Greece. His triumph brought back booty and captives, and Irene celebrated his return with honors.

In May of that year, she embarked on a public tour of Thrace with her son—a gesture that left a powerful impression. She fortified and renamed Beroia as Eirenoupolis (“City of Irene”), symbolizing renewal and imperial authority. Her efforts stabilized Northern Thrace that had largely escaped imperial control for two centuries. She cemented these gains by founding a new theme (the military-administrative division): Macedonia.

Champion of icons

A devout patron and builder, Irene founded the Convent of the Mother of God on Prinkipo and played a crucial role in resolving the iconoclasm controversy.

In 787, after carefully neutralizing potential military opposition, she summoned the Second Council of Nicaea. There, she overturned her father-in-law’s policies and restored the veneration of icons, marking a monumental shift in Byzantine religious life and reviving iconophile art.

Constantine VI attempts to rule alone

By 788, Irene’s name began to precede that of Constantine VI in official proclamations. She dominated his life and eventually broke off his engagement to Rotrude, arranging a new marriage with Maria of Amnia. She opposed Charlemagne’s growing influence in southern Italy and launched a military expedition that ended disastrously.

Frustrated, Constantine sought to assert his authority. In 790, provincial troops acclaimed him as sole emperor. He had Irene’s eunuchs punished and exiled, and confined her to the Palace of Eleutherios.

Yet his reign floundered. After a series of military defeats, including a humiliating loss to the Bulgars in 792, Constantine reinstated his mother as co-ruler. Their uneasy joint rule descended into chaos. As the chronicler Michael Psellos wrote:

“They went for each other, hit and hit back in turn, and now Irene exercised absolute power, now Constantine took possession of the palace alone, again the mother, again the son, until their conflict resulted in a disaster for both.”

Constantine further alienated the court by divorcing his wife and remarrying—an act that scandalized the clergy and nobility alike.

Sole Ruler of the Empire

By 796, Irene had outmaneuvered her son. She won over the army and her household through persuasion and bribes. In August 797, Constantine attempted to flee the capital but was captured by Irene's allies. Irene had him blinded in the porphyra, the chamber where she had once given birth to him.

Blinding, though brutal, was seen as a merciful alternative to execution. Whether he survived is uncertain; some sources suggest he lived until 805.

Now ruling alone, Irene struck coins bearing only her image. She used the masculine form basileus on some of her legal documents and used the masculine title autokrator, asserting full sovereignty.

Her rule wasn’t, at first, met with much opposition. Irene had carefully prepared her ascension.

Imperial philanthropy

Irene’s reign was marked by a deep commitment to philanthropy. Her concern for the poor seemed genuine, not merely political. She abolished taxes levied on soldiers’ widows and exempted orphanages, hospitals, and religious institutions from hearth taxes— a relief her successor would later revoke.

A prolific builder, she was interested in developing the capital. She funded public works, established soup kitchens, retirement homes, and free graveyards for foreigners and the poor. She reduced taxes and, in 799, distributed coins to the people during a ceremony.

The last years

Irene’s later years were fraught with challenge. In 798, she sent envoys to both the Arabs and the Franks, striving to keep military conflict at bay, but failed to secure peace with the Arabs.

She extended imperial administration into the Balkans and possibly created new provincial units in Greece. Her treasury remained strong, with substantial reserves at her disposal.

She fell ill in 799 and the crowning of Charlemagne as “Emperor of the Romans” by the Pope in 800 seriously undermined her legitimacy. The Byzantines considered themselves the true heirs of Rome, and the coronation was a major blow to Irene’s prestige.

She seems to have proposed marriage to Charlemagne, possibly to unite the eastern and western empires and ensure peaceful cooperation. Frankish ambassadors arrived in Constantinople, but the plan came to nothing.

By 802, dissatisfaction at court had reached a tipping point. Irene’s failure to designate a successor led to her downfall. Her finance minister, Nikephoros, staged a coup and was proclaimed emperor. Deserted by her allies, Irene was exiled—first to Prinkipo, then to Lesbos where she was closely guarded, most likely because she had plotted against her successor.

She died on August 9, 803. Her remains were later returned to the convent she had founded. That she managed to hold power for so long—despite lacking support and governing in a deeply patriarchal society—testifies to her extraordinary political acumen.

If you enjoy this blog, consider supporting me on Ko-fi!

Further reading: 

Garland Lynda, Byzantine Empresses - Women and Power in Byzantium AD 527-1204

Herrin Judith, Women in Purple: Rulers of Medieval Byzantium

[peppertoastuniverse]

chameleon – geto suguru x reader

contents: geto suguru x gn!reader, angst, hurt/comfort, lots of internal conflict, suguru calls you love, it's complicated lol summary: still crippled by suguru’s defection 10 years ago, you’re conflicted when he appears out of the blue. after all these years, is he still the love of your life? wc: 1.2k

“so, you don’t get to ask me that question,” you whisper brokenly, resolve crumbling. “i had to leave. I couldn’t just stand by and watch while they –“ you scoff. when was it this hard to talk to him? why was he trying to explain things that you already knew?

you hesitantly swallow the lump in throat. how.. why was he here? he carried himself in the same confident manner, his stride echoing in your empty cavity – a place he once called home, the crime scene of his theft years ago. his smile was different, but in his domineering presence you think that you see something that you’ve forced yourself to forget.  he coos your name as he moves closer to you, emerging from the shadows with a greeting dancing on his lips. the same lips that you memorized.  the sound of your unsteady breathing invading your mind. why was he here? he couldn’t be here.

blinking rapidly, you made a point to avoid looking into his amethyst eyes. if you showed a moment of weakness, if you dared to look into the eye of the storm you knew that there would be no chance for you. you would be swept up in his chaos and you were afraid that you would be tempted to walk in his rain. he easily broke down your walls ten years ago, and deep down you knew that he could carelessly take a sledgehammer to the new ones you’ve build because of his absence.

his cold slender hand finds a way onto your face, gently caressing your chin before using his thumb to force you to look up him.

“ah, have you forgotten about me already?”

he looked so different. his cheeks hollowed out, losing the baby fat that adorned his face when he used to smile down at you under your covers. dark hair once tied up so neatly, now fell in waves behind him. you wondered if he remembered the time where you begged him to braid his hair, suguru giving into you easily as he always has. his frame easily slotting between your legs, your warm fingers combing soothingly through his shattering thoughts, how he’d shyly smile as you’d chatter on about your day. looking at the man in front of you, his frame grew wider, shoulders stronger, body filling out his once lanky height. perhaps his shoulders remembered when you’d cling to them at night, how he would instinctively take you in his arms where you imprinted your heart on top of his.

he looked so different and yet you still recognized him. it’s hard to forget someone when they were once yours.

“hm?” he asks, waiting for an answer, moving to stroke your cheek. suguru always played dirty and with you it was no exception. he flexed his power when he could. the familiar action snaps you back into reality, reminding you of the sound of what was left of your breaking heart.

“you fucking left, geto,” you spit out, slapping his hand away from your face, not missing the way his eyes widen ever so slightly.  geto. he was never geto to you, never. even when you fought, it was always suguru, or baby. he didn’t know a geto when it came from your lips. he frowns in displeasure.

“you left.” lightly shoving his chest with your shaking hands, control dissolving into the night air. “without telling anyone –  even satoru!” moving to beat his firm chest, as if to distract him from the hurt in your voice. “do you even know what you put him though? what you put us through?”

 “all because you left in the middle of the fucking night.” another weighted punch, echoing in suguru’s empty chest. reverberating years of hurt into the dark sky.

“without me.” slap. he has the decency to let his control slip, breathing out a subtle shaky sigh.

“…and you show up, what?” you scoff incredulously, bitterness lacing your words, catching on your tongue, a tough pill to swallow. “ – years later! years. asking if i’ve forgotten about you?” you laugh humourlessly. suguru thinks that the cold sound doesn’t suit you, to him you were his favourite song. the sound of the cicadas in the morning, the sound of mimiko and nanako's laughter, the sound of you confessing your love to him on that night when –

“– like you’re the only thing I think about – that I’ve thought about –  for the past 10 years? even though i’ve tried everything to forget you –“ your voice betrayingly breaks, adding to your frustration. you were breathing heavier now, years of repressed anger running through your veins, possessing you to force out the messy words that you aggressively carved out on your heart every night.

suguru effortlessly catches your shaking hands before they get a chance to land another weak blow to him. holding your smaller hands to rest on his chest, he savours your familiar touch.  ­­­he wasn’t a fool, he knew that you could easily kill him if you wanted to and he would gladly let you – it would have been deserved. “so, you don’t get to ask me that question,” you whisper brokenly, resolve crumbling.

“i had to leave. I couldn’t just stand by and watch while they –“ you scoff. when was it this hard to talk to him? why was he trying to explain things that you already knew? you didn’t want to hear his thinly veiled excuses –  didn’t he know you anymore? you were the last person who would’ve stopped him from his goals, didn’t he know that? you couldn’t help but be offended by his gross oversight. “it would’ve ruined your life if you came with me. you –”

“you don’t get to make those decisions for me –!” “– you don’t deserve that.” “what and you do?”

“that’s different.” “don’t fucking lie, suguru,” you spit venomously at his audacity. “you can lie to yourself all you want, but not to me.”  

“no,” he breathes, “never to you.” his eyes meet yours for the first time. in his eyes, you see it. you saw every emotion that flickered through his mind, years ago he was easier to read but in the dim moonlight there was a diluted familiarity that made your heart lurch. was he still there? you weren’t strong enough, afraid of making decisions in his presence. afraid of your own thoughts, afraid of betraying yourself. you didn’t know that the boy who kissed you so sweetly in the rain had the capacity to be this cruel.

you feel his thumb brushing away tears that you didn’t know were falling. as his arms wrap around you, you close your eyes, afraid that he’ll remember that he could drown you in his breathing. you sigh as you feel him pushing your body flush to his. a waking memory. you relish in the way he feels around you, a perfect fit then. there was a time in the not so distant past where you hoped and prayed for this very scenario, to be in his arms again. you wondered if the space that you created together remained untouched right where he left it. “i thought about you every day, you know? every fucking day.” he mumbles, more to himself than you,an airing of an admission. your breath hitches. he couldn't do this to you. “i needed to see you.” he says, voice barely above a whisper, thick words hesitant to flow, as if he was weighing them carefully. he was already chastising himself for his greed, but he needed this. he neededyou.

it wasn’t good enough, and part of you thinks it never will be. you were an idiot, this you knew. but you couldn’t help but melt at his words, despite everything, despite all the death and destruction, he came back to you. he found his way back to you.

suguru sighs in relief has he feels your hesitant arms wrap around him in return, gripping his robes tightly, as if to strangle him. you didn’t accept his apology, but you accepted him – just like you always have. you meet his eyes, though physically changed by time, he was still yours. was he? “ I hate you, suguru.” “mhm.. i know, love. i do too.”

a/n: missin' my princess! i feel like im always screaming when i write for suguru lol -- dividers by @/adornedwithlight