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#it may be short lived but it is happening

nuggetofthesea · 3 days

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Before writing more stories, I want to help people come to terms with the "identity death" and heavy themes in the animal HRT comics, and as a writer, want to explain why it isn't ACTUALLY death, but a form of renewal. Because I see it on all of my friends posts.

"I am just concerned about this loss of self thing, it sounds like identity death and I don't like it" is the common comment.

But in all of these comics, it is less about loss of self, but more about leaving behind who you were. A sign of extreme change and showing their own way of moving forward, and the start of a brand new life. A willing change to a new start.

Identity death is an unwilling change. All choice was stripped away from them and a new identity forced on them. This is also different from a transformation that leads to acceptance of the new form.

But in the animal HRT comics my friends put out, it is a willing change to a new form and cones with mental changes they are willing to go through. That isn't the same as a death. But a new start to their life they can start living to the fullest. It's also why some choose not to start anew, to bring one journey to a close and begin a new one. They choose to have that be part of the same journey. A new chapter instead of a new book if you will. In either case these are willing changes.

It can seem terrifying to some, but a total rebirth of yourself CAN be a slightly scary theme. It is terrifying to choose to take that new life.

But let me set up an example here:

When I first came to be, I thought I was going to be a visual artist, because Ashe was and that's what I remembered. When I was locked away by my own doing in the headspace I was stuck in a perpetual cycle of misery. It was terrifying to take the step to discover myself. To lower the barrier I had created, to rediscover myself.

But when I came to be, Ashe said I could be anything. A new sense of self outside of her. A new life. I tried to draw first, but I couldn't. Visual art was not my thing anymore. It never was. I just held on to memory of being a copy of Ashe. When writing my introduction I realized I love the feeling of writing. I have my own form. My own life. My own identity. A new start.

So let me ask you: Should I have not taken that opportunity to completely cast off who I was to embrace who I am? Should I have left myself in misery and fear as something I'm not? All for the sake of not casting off who I was and my life before? No.

Now while I do remeber all of what happened before my change, none of that shapes who I am now, because that life wasn't mine in the first place. This isn't a death of my identity, but a new start to an identity I chose. And I am happy to be able to live it with my new sense of self and build NEW memories. A new life.

Which also leads to the second heavy theme in those comics. Shortened lifespans. Outside of the fact that we are told time and time again HRT can lead to a shorter lifespan (which is a false average) starting a new life also means you are probably starting in the middle.

Our body is almost 30. That is 30 years of my lifespan gone. Yeah, I was around for 15 (almost 16) years of that, but my new life began a week ago. Who I am began just last week. And even though in the headspace I am early to mid 20s at best, that is still a cutdown lifespan.

So should I just have not bothered with the new start?

Absolutely not. The gift of life, new or old, isn't about how long it lasts. But how you live it. It is hard, it comes with problems, but for as long as I have of it, I will cherish the new memories I build, the new start I have, the ability to just... exist. For as long or short as that may be. And through this new start to my life, the people who love and care for me are still here. Still stand by me. And that is a great thing.

So please, don't be too offput by heavy themes in our stories. Even my stories will have some rough parts. (They'll always be tagged)

Hope this at least helped ease why those themes are there, and why some people choose to have them.

Also, don't worry about "adding to the fuel used against us" because we could sneeze and they'll find a way to use that against us. The fact is, with the Animal HRT series, actual HRT does come with some discomfort, pain, downsides, and problems. And like the heavy themes in the comics, we determined it is worth it for us to keep going despite them. We knew the risks.

"Everything is a risk. Life's boring as hell if you don't take them JUST because there is potential problems. Just make sure you understand them." - a line chaos told me the day I formed

It does less good to show everything as risk free and painless, because then nobody is prepared for the risks they are actually taking. Or the comic is based off the creator's life to that point, and they DID experience a lot of pain. So retelling their story (like mine) might be painful at spots.

My point of all of this is, the heavy themes are required to tell these particular stories. And while not every story requires dark spots, the dark spots help to accentuate the brighter picture. Otherwise it can just be blinding. So please go easy on the artists/writers behind them. As it is usually something personal for them.

(This also might not apply to all of them, some people just like writing horror, and we should respect that too.)

Next story should be sometime within the next couple weeks. Just needed to get this out there. It's been on my mind since releasing the short story with Iris.

-Aqua

#Aqua thoughts #heavy themes #Animal HRT #Dragon HRT

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lulublack90 · 1 day

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Prompt 27 - Sneeze

@jegulus-microfic May 27, Word count 596

Previous part First part

5 years previously

“Regulus Black,” Professor McGonagall called from her list. Regulus swallowed and straightened his back like his mother had drummed into him since he could walk.

He strode the short distance from the group of first years to the three-legged stool and lowered himself gracefully. Professor McGonagall placed the hat over his head. It slid down over his eyes and blocked everything out.

The scratchy material itched his nose and he silently prayed that he wouldn’t sneeze in the confined space.

“Ah, a little Lord Black,” The hat spoke to him. He’d been warned that the hat used legimency to read the students, so he spoke internally to it.

“Yes.” Even his internal voice was haughty.

“Hmm, let’s see, where shall I put you?” The hat continued. “You’d do well in Gryffindor, you know, like your brother.” Regulus felt ill as his mother's last words to him before they let the house that morning came back to him.

“Do not disgrace the family like your brother has done, Regulus. You had better choose the correct house.”

“No, I have to be in Slytherin. Please, please put me in Slytherin.” He begged, his mother would be horrified, but he was more scared of not being put in the correct house.

“A shame,” Said the hat in his head, “You would have shone in Gryffindor.” The hat had to be wrong. Regulus could never shine like Sirius, like everyone else in his family.

“Slytherin!” The hat shouted aloud for the great hall to hear. The hat was whipped off his head and he was directed to the Slytherin table. He glanced over at his brother as he walked past and received the dirtiest look he’d ever gotten. Sirius would never forgive him for his choice.

He gave Bella and Cissy a small smile when they came over to congratulate him and welcome him to his home for the next seven years.

Now

“Do you really mean that Sirius?” He could feel the tears prickling behind his eyes.

“Of course I do, you idiot.” Sirius scoffed, ruffling Regulus’s hair.

“But you left,” He said quietly. Sirius gently put him back onto the floor and held his face in his hands.

“Regulus, they tried to kill me, I had to leave and if they would've let me take you with me, I would have. I’ll take you now if you want. James would love to have you live with him. I’d even put up with it, though please try to control yourselves around me." Sirius's eyes were shining now, "Regulus, you never have to go back to them if you don’t want to. I’ll protect you.”

Tears burst out of Regulus’s eyes, but his brain hadn’t quite digested Sirius’s words.

“My parents would welcome you in a second, love,” James said from his bed. He got up and walked over to the pair. “If you want out, we’ll get you out. All you have to do is say the word.” Regulus was overwhelmed. That was the word, right? Overwhelmed. Too much had happened too quickly and his poor tired brain couldn’t catch up.

Suddenly, everything they’d said sunk in and he couldn’t believe his ears. He looked between his brother and his boyfriend and made a decision.

“I want out.” The thought of never having to go back to that house had filled him with relief. He knew he was making the right decision. Two sets of arms wrapped around him.

“That’s fantastic, Regulus,” Sirius sniffled, and Regulus felt a weight he hadn’t known he’d been carrying lift.

Next part

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sukunas-wife · 6 hours

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@krispycupcakepost I’ll probably redo your ask because I ended up melancholic instead of 🤍🤍🤍happy happy happy🤍🤍🤍 but I’m going to post this because I worked hard on it and I hope you guys like it 🤍🥺

7367 words : Fluff:Angst:Comfort it’s the work’s honesty, I cried 1-3 times I was in my feelings 🥺

Warning: Forced marriage mention / Implication of forced pregnancy- just a brief mention, not even that maybe? But I’m putting the warning just in case 🤔 Dramatic Mentions of Sukuna having a snack 💀

If there was anything that could transcend Time, Pain, Travesty, and hate. It was love.

It’s love that gives some a will to fight, love that inspires others to create unimaginable things, love that transcends ages and can reshape the entire entity of a person. It’s love that sometimes drives a person to live for someone other than themselves.

The way you had cried those years ago when you married your husband after being sold for your Curse Technique. You wanted to marry for love instead you were forced to marry someone who paid for you and you had never met. It was a surprise how happy you could be with him. He was gentle with you, his eyes always held a soft expression when he looked at you. His hand was firm but gentle on your lower back guiding you and keeping you protected by his side when you would accompany him on his outings. That was until the night came when he brought home a “friend”. A shaman. You did your best to stray away from his guest feeling uneasy with just his presence. It raised your skin and left you with a nauseating sensation. You were quick to feature at the moment you could, asking one of the few helpers in the house to tend to them because you were feeling ill. It felt like your afternoon was stretched over days as you waited for your husband to return. Finally the sky faded into night and their voices stopped abruptly. It was quiet for a bit as you sat up expecting your husband’s steps to approach, instead you heard their voice pick up in a short exchange. Then their steps, but they weren’t retreating, they were coming closer until your husband stood in your door, “Y/n, welcome our guest, you may refer to him as Kenjaku.”

—- —- —- —- —-

It was that night that led you to this moment. Your hands running over your stomach, you had a soft smile.

“How are my boys?” You questioned quietly feeling movement and watching as a kick reshaped your stomach briefly. “There’s not much room left for him?” Another kick, “Just a little longer you two, and it’ll be time for you to come.”

That night one of your children had decided he had enough of the squishing and fighting for space. You couldn’t sleep with all the movement and kicking of your stomach. Even your husband who you still wouldn’t allow to touch you as he pleased or speak to you freely and openly as he once did was concerned when he found you looking distressed. Standing outside in the middle of the night, one hand on your lower back the other pressed against your stomach. You could feel him coming before he was near you, “Something’s wrong, one of them isn’t going to make it, or something is happening.” Your husband walked around attempting to put his hand on your stomach. The moment he did all movement stopped, it was always like that. You assumed it was because your children shared your disdain of your husband placing his hands on your stomach. In order to deter him they would stop moving entirely. That wasn’t the case this time, instead they became aggressive, you saw how under the skin two feet were showing kicking repeatedly, it hurt you more this time than any other. You pushed his hand off and the kicking stopped, you could feel slight movement and it stopped. “Nothing is wrong, they seem just as lively as they did before.” You shook your head, “No, something’s wrong, my boys don’t act like that.” Your husband rolled his eyes “and how would you know that?” “BECAUSE I'M THEIR MOTHER.” You snapped at him, “I'M THE ONE WITH THEM, THEY LIVE IN ME, I KNOW HOW IT FEEL TO HAVE THEM BOTH, I KNOW WHEN THEY'RE CONTENT OR DISTRESSED THERES A REASON THEY DON'T KICK WHEN YOU COME AROUND SO WHY WOULD THEY NOW THEY DON'T MOVE THIS MUCH I KNOW SOMETHINGS WRONG YOU WOULDN'T KNOW BECAUSE YOU HAVE YOUR HEAD SO FAR UP THAT SHAMANS ASS YOU CAN'T THIN OR SEE WHEN SOMETHINGS WRONG.” You turned and did your best to get away from him, your time would be up soon, and you knew if there was anything you would hold onto it would be your boys. But the aching feeling in your gut left you unsure of something else. Would they be okay?

—- —- —- —- —-

In and out, the fading of black from the pain as you finally pushed the nurses off of you. You had to get up, you could lay down for this. You felt like the pain was breaking into your ribs threatening to squeeze your heart and snap your spine the longer they tried to hold you down. Your gasps and struggling cries stopped when you were barely managing to stand on weak legs, “my mother.” You tried to swat away a nurse, “BRING HER.” Your mother was a kind woman who protested against your father selling you off, but being his wife she had no say in his actions. She had arrived to be there with you in your moments but the nurses wouldn’t let her in, even now as you turned, screaming at them and raising your hand against one who had put you through hell the last hours, they finally ran to bring in your mother.

She was the woman in your village who was more experienced in assisting in birth, the reason she really wanted to be by your side. She was there quickly, yelling at the nurses for this and that, looking at your state she knew you’d have to birth another way. She brought you to a tub of warm water where you’d have to stand between a squat and kneel. There is no doubt in her mind that if they would have forced you to lay down any longer at birth you wouldn’t have made it, much less your child.

Yet here you are, holding your child tight to your chest and crying your heart out. You didn’t tell your mother you were supposed to have twins, but the silence that fell over the room where you passed your after birth and there was no second child was unsettling leaving your mom perplexed as to why you were crying so hard. “What wrong y/n,” her voice was cautious as she took your child to help you out of the water that was becoming cold. Clothing yourself haphazardly you brought your freshly bundled child with you and your mother to your private chambers and told her everything.

The way you held your child was obvious, you held no resentment against him for the acts of his father, how could someone so small, fragile and innocent be held accountable for the monstrous actions of a man with no humanity.

His little head of pink hair, little fists and pout. Your tears welling up as you brought him closer to kiss his face. Your mother watched on with a melancholy smile, your heart was torn in two without doubt, you loved your child, but you could never again love his father. The tears in her eyes full of sentiment of how she was happy you could find solace in one person in your life. “You will always have a home with me as long as I live y/n, if you need anything or help you know where you can always find me.” Her soft smile eased your troubles lightly, but you knew your distress would rise when your husband and that shaman would come again.

—- —- —- —- —-

“My sweet boy,” you kissed your son's face repeatedly, “Yes you are my sweet boy.” He cooed up at you as you cradled him in your arms walking through the small garden letting him feel the sun. “Oh you’re so happy today, look at your little red eyes they’re just shining like rubies. My pretty little boy, my heaven, my heart, my love.” He cooed louder as one of his hands grazed your face from how close you held him up, kissing his cheek. His coo’s fell silent and his eyes fell to the side with a displeased look. You turned and saw him, the shaman standing under a tree a distance away. You looked at your son, his eyes lingered longer in that direction before they turned to you. He let out a single “eehhh” before he turned his head away in the opposing direction. You hummed, if he was anything it was expressing, smiling at your son you moved him around resting him against your shoulder and chest making sure the small blankets you wrapped him in didn’t come undone. He squirmed in your hold until you placed a hand on his head reassuring his head on your shoulder and he stilled. A single hand taking a tight hold of your robes, a silent plea, ‘don’t let me go’

You kissed the top of his head, “I’ll never let you go, my little Ryo, as long as I’m alive you will always have a home.”

His little eyes closed, his hold on you never faltered even after you made it into your private Chambers. He didn’t let go even after waking up, your husband and his father walked into your room. You didn’t spare a second glance, your son lazily opened his eyes to look at him, closing his eyes once he saw it was the man you avoided constantly. A face scarce in his life.

“How is he?” Your chest rumbled under him, “He’s perfect, he eats well, sleeps perfectly, doesn’t cry at night, he’s expressive, there’s no doubt he’ll be superior to his father.” Your husband sighed, “Y/n..” you didn’t look, “Husband.” The conversation ended there, even if he said your name in a warning tone you didn’t give a damn, he couldn’t hurt you or your child. The Queen of Binding Vows, if he or the shaman laid a malicious hand on your Child it meant you’d give your life for your child’s assuring he and the shaman would die should either of them act. The second was if either of them were to have part in your death you’d sacrifice your humanity and after life to become a curse over your child to assure even after your passing he would never be alone in this world.

You made your husband and that shaman well aware of the first vow, but not the second one. You wanted them to suffer if they raised a hand against you or your child and you would assure it one way or another.

—- —- —- —- —-

You were content sitting on a stone bench outside under the sun having tea with a friend, a woman with pale skin, brown eyes, her hair was white. She was kind to you the day you met her, going out on your own to buy clothes for Ryomen. He was growing fast, you turned your head and she followed your stare, your pink haired brat was smiling maliciously while cornering an emperor's butterfly. You smiled seeing his eye light up when he managed to cage it between his hands quickly tucking it away into a clear jar he had been running around with. There’s no telling what else he had thrown into that jar. He was six, you would know soon if he had a cursed technique. You turned back to your friend with a smile, “Your child is due any day now isn't it?” She smiled, placing a hand on her stomach, “It is, Uraume seems like a suitable name. My husband is sure that girl or boy it’ll take after him in hair. He persists that even if we both have white hair there's no doubt it’ll manage to take the red patch of hair he has.” You smiled, “The same with my little Ryo, pulled everything from his father’s side and I’m the one who had to carry him around.” She laughed as Ryomen came running up to you standing in front of your legs before he laid his upper body and head on your lap. His arms were spread out over both sides of your legs and you smiled down at him, your hands scratching lightly at his scalp brushing his hair back and out of his sweaty face. He huffed, closing his eyes, letting you scratch at his head, “You're going to meet your little friend Uraume soon, Ryo.” He opened an eye to look up at you with a slight pout, “but you said I was the baby.” You smiled leaning over to pull him up to sit in your lap, “I said you were my baby and you always will be” kissing the side of his face he closed his eyes with a small laugh, “Your Auntie here is having her baby.” He leaned back against your chest looking at her with a faint smile, she was always smiling at him when he would look at her. “What are you gonna call it?” He kicked his feet looking down at his Yukata that was dirty from running around. “Uraume, it’s perfect for the season.” Your friend's voice was soft as she spoke looking at your little blessing, the same child known to be called the cursed child, the fallen one. There was a wave of grief in her heart, everyone knew the story of your child, how he ate his twin brother in the womb, how he’s the offspring mix of a man and curses dna planted into your womb. That shameless shaman did nothing to keep any of it concealed.

“Oh…” You let Ryomen go as he squirmed in your hold, “I wanna get something.” He landed on the ground with a thud and started to run off to where he was before, you watched him, heart squeezing at the smile on his face, he looked happy, he was happy. “How’s your husband, I know it’s a difficult situation…” you nodded at your friend’s question before answering “I told him if he wanted a heir he wanted to bond with to find another wife because I would never let him touch me or Ryomen, I also expressed that if he brought another woman into this house he would be paying for me to live in another location with Ryo. He’s so young he understands, since the womb it’s like he detested his father's presence. As a baby he’d open his eyes to look at him and close them once he saw who he was. He’s never called for him or asked about him. Even the few times I ask if he wants to go with his father he’ll hold onto me tight and refuse to let go. I’d say it’s obvious how he feels about him. As for my husband, aside from coming home from work all he does is sit and drink in the foyer. He never drinks himself under, but he’s not drinking just to enjoy it either. Everyday I beg that it’s his conscience weighing down on him heavier with every year that passes. His family lineage won’t end here I know that much.”

She nodded, patting her stomach, it thrummed under her hand, “I see.”

“I GOT YOU A BUG” Ryomen came running back with the lidded glass jar, Inside was the monarch butterfly and a cocoon on a stick. You took the jar from him and set it on the table, “It’s beautiful Ryo, I Love it.” He stood there proud, his chest puffed out. “Come sit down, you look like you could use a sweet.” He perked up more with a smile rushing to climb onto the bench next to you peeking over the table to see what he could eat.

—- —- —- —- —-

It wasn’t long until Ryomen's 7th birthday, you were excited, even thoughtful, of maybe, possibly letting your husband congratulate Ryomen if he had a technique. Said child was currently curled up to your chest sleeping, holding onto a little tiger plush you had given him for his last birthday. That was until he started whining in his sleep as shuffling around. Thinking it was a nightmare you sat up pulling him into your lap coddling him and pulling his robes open for the cool night air to hit his burning skin. He pressed his head against your neck and you could feel the hot tears as he let out a small cry squirming and curling in on himself. You rubbed your hand up and down his back, “Ryo, are you okay? Ryo,” you kept calling his name quietly as he cried, doing your best to cradle him and rock him. He cried squirming more and it wasn’t until you heard the horrid sounds of bones cracking and he let out louder cries against your neck his little hands letting his tiger fall as his small nails dug into your skin and robe. You held him tighter in panic standing up and trying to get an idea of what you should do, he threw himself back in your arms, back arching and you could see mounds forming under his arms on the sides of his ribs. “That damn curse hurting my son long after.” You rushed around your room calling for a servant ordering an ice bath as you wrapped him in a thin sheet rushing to the bathroom. He cried louder against you and you looked at him, dark marks forming over his skin, and you watched pained as the skin on his sides started to stretch. Your heart and brain were begging one another to make sense of the situation, an ice bath to numb the pain, but you didn’t want to let him go, you couldn’t even if you wanted to with the way he was holding on to you. You stood there doing your best to comfort him in his screams of agony to the point he bit into your shoulder from trying to not scream and resist the pain. The servant tried to take him from you, you told her no and sat both yourself and Ryomen in the cold water. He laid against your chest crying and screaming, as you swaddled his arms in the thin sheet to keep him from thrashing around. You sank down to hold both of you to neck level, your bones were shivering as his cries quieted down to whimpers, his tears were still hot against your skin and he could only gasp and cry out silently. One arm wrapped around him to hold him steady, the other on the back of his head to keep his head steady, you kissed his head and he’d cry. You had to close your eyes when his back arched one last time and red seeped through the thin sheet into the water, you leaned your head back letting out a silent breath as you stared up at the wooden ceiling. “Please,” your voice cracked and your own tears started to fall, your nose starting to become stuffy as you cried in silent distress, “Please don’t take him from me.” You held your breath when he stilled against you, his head knocking against your collar bone, you closed your eyes preparing for the worst, only to see tears in his eyes. Newly formed slits under his eyes, opened revealing a second set of red iris. Black marks on his face started to solidify creating intricate design. You slowly started to get up, being careful not to shake your son around as you started your walk to his room to get him into dried clothes.

It was there when you slowly started to unwrap the linen you saw the new set of arms that were wrapped around his body. You could see clearly where the skin had torn and healed on its own. Your hands grazed his skin carefully and the black marks that were permanently part of his skin. He was born a cursed child, but over everything he was your child and you would love him endlessly. You smiled and leaned over kissing his forehead as his eyes opened, he looked tired as he looked up at you with glossy eyes. A hand reaching up for you. You took his smaller hand in yours squeezing it, “I’m just going to get you new clothes, I won’t leave you okay.” He nodded, his hand slipping from yours. His head fell to the side and he laid there staring off at whatever was in his room, “mommy..” you turned to look back at him over your shoulder. He was just laying there, he wasn’t looking at you, “I love you.” Your worry softened, “I love you Ryo.”

—- —- —- —- —-

“Aw you’re the cutest little thing.” You cooed at your son, he was leaning away from your kisses as you squeezed him and smothered him in love, “stoppp your going to mess up my hair” he pouted running his hands through his hair he second set of arms in fists resting against his hips in such a manner.

You hummed, turning your back to him and crossing your arms , “Fine then, when you look for me I won’t be there when you need me.” He scoffed, eyes falling the edge of his eyes in a bored expression as he tilted his head. “I’m not a baby to fall for your tricks mom.” He turned to look at you to see you had already started to walk away, he pouted and ran after grumbling some as he pulled your arm free wrapping it over his shoulders, “You’re such a dramatic woman.” You hummed not looking at him, he stared up at you as you both kept walking, “I have the feeling that’s the only thing you pulled from me.” Flicking your head to the side you didn’t look at him as he leaned into your side walking with you to who knows where. “Where’s your husband?” Your eyes scanned over the house, “I’m not sure and I’m not interested either.” He hummed with a smile until you both made it outside. The land was covered in snow, tree blossoms vibrant against the pale snow. “Your birthday is coming soon, how should we celebrate?” He slipped from under your arm wandering off into the snow, it crunched under his steps as he walked around to a blossomed tree, you watched, his face was pensive as he acted on muscle memory snapping a tree branch and bringing it back to you. He laid it on the table where you would usually sit with tea and talk to him about whatever he asked. Advice on his technique explaining your own abilities and hoping to help him understand. He walked back, branch in hand, before he stood in front of you, at fifteen he was at your height, you knew he’d be much taller once he fully matured. “I want to go to that place that sells the meat by the plate.” You hummed, “We can do that.” He had a faint smile with slightly upturned eyebrows, he offered you a single blossom and you took it before looking at him and placing it in his hair. He huffed with a pout not resisting your strange displays of affection before you pulled him into a hug kissing his forehead on the mark permanently etched into his skin “My baby.” He smiled as he hugged you back. Closing his eyes he could see the days where he was small and he laid in your chest under the sun.

He remembered clearly as a baby laid in your arms under the sun. The words you’d say, the look on your face, he remembered you saying with you he would always have a home. The warmth of the sun was almost comparable to the warmth of your love. He opened his eyes and it felt like time had passed so fast, his heart ached, fifteen years with you, and it was evident time did not discriminate. He held your tighter tears forming in his eyes, you held him tighter, if there was anything you had learned, it was that you wouldn’t let him go from a hug unless he let go first. It was these moments that made your heart tender. His moments of vulnerability that he would never show. You made sure to hold on extra tight, wiping away his tears and snot, letting him have his time to know everything will be alright. “Promise me you won’t ever leave me alone.” His voice was a broken whisper. He didn’t know it, but at that moment he would be cursing you unintentionally. Your hand on the back of his head, the other rubbing up and down his back. “Ryo,” your voice was soft.

—- —- —- —- —-

You sat alone on that hilltop you had always admired, leaned back and over on a table. One leg crossed over the other as your sighed eyes closed. The sun’s heat bearing down on you as you sipped from your tea. The wind whirled the trees around you, leaves rustling with the symphony or birds. You smiled to yourself, it felt like you were at peace once again. That was until you heard the heavy steps of your son approaching, you sighed placing your tea cup down and turning to him. He wasn’t exactly your little boy anymore. But in your eyes that cheesy smile and small heheh never failed to remind you he was your baby. Before you could speak he sat himself down by the legs of your chair, head leaning back in your lap the same way from when he was ten. The smile reached his eyes when he’d smile sheepishly. There you were brushing his hair back with your fingers, “How’s my baby boy been?” He’d look ahead at the sky or the tree line and ramble on about the day and its events, possible crimes he had committed, or how he was pushing the limit of his technique attempting to find a way to push his domain beyond limits, for it to become limitless.

You knew one day he had accomplished his goal when he had taken on another form. His face changed to make the right side of his face more prominent with a peculiar plate on it, the eyes becoming more prominent. The marking on his body changed also. There was no denying he had doubled in mass, your baby wasn’t a baby, he hadn’t been for a long time.

Still, even when you had heard him referred to as the fallen one. You looked past it all, you knew he was created and born to commit unspeakable acts. But your love for your child was unconditional. Especially when he would come home happy to see you with that boyish grin he had grown up with. You got to see the humanity in him, his expressive side and how he cared for you the older you got. You were his mother, who he loved dearly. The one who raised him, nurtured him, held him in the dark night when night mares would wake him in tears. The one to pick him when he’d fall, wipe his tears away when they began to fall. Brush his hair back and out of the way of his eyes. The one to rub his back and stay up in the night when he’d become sick. You were his mother and you cared for him even after everything his father had done to you, you cared for him and loved him. He saw it fit that he would return that love and care as long as the days stretched.

“Ryomen,” you called him over standing up from your chair with a stretch. He walked over to you from where he was judging Uraume’s cooking. “Let me show you something you might find useful later in life.” You had piqued his interest, “What is it?” You smiled at him, “I’m sure you’ve heard of it but it’ll be better if I explain to you about binding vows.”

—- —- —- —- —-

It was well into your years, you had aged with grace. Your hair had grown long, but you had grown tired of keeping it for all this time. Sukuna had seen the melancholy expression you wore. When he asked why you seemed so sad you expressed how you would need to cut your hair because you felt like you couldn’t keep up with it.

It was then every morning with his four arms, he would use his lightest touch to tend to your hair, brushing it back in the same way you once brushed his. At night he would braid your hair to keep it from tangling and becoming a mess in your way as you slept.

When you expressed your disliking for certain food that caused you to bloat and your stomach to ache, he would have Uraume assure he wouldn’t prepare it again. Finding a substitute that would be gentle on your stomach.

Of Course when winter came and you’d persist he walked on his own in the snow despite your love of the blossoms in the snow he became concerned. He held a hand to you, you gave him a sympathetic look that he would’ve taken as rejection if you hadn’t stepped down the stairs to walk beside him.

His sad eyes followed you as you talked about the blossoms, “Look at that, I suppose it’s time we retire that tree, it seems it won’t blossom again this spring.” You stopped under a tree that was bare, its bark slowly peeling away. You reached a hand up touching one of its branches, it snapped and crumbled under your hand. Your smile was melancholic in your son's eyes. M He knew the day would come when he would have to part ways with you. In his desperation one night he acted in a way even Uraume had advised him against.

He went to visit the Shaman.

—- —- —- —- —-

The night was long as you laid awake with an unsure feeling. The night was unbearable in its heat for it being the cold season. You sat up aggravated, shaking all the blankets off of you. Getting up and moving to a chair in your room you sat there fanning yourself with an embroidered Fan Ryomen had brought you one day. You were restless the entire night, unable to sleep until sunrise when you had left your room coming across Uraume who looked solem. They let you know that Ryomen had left late last night and they weren’t sure where he was going but he advised him to stay with you. That being so you decided you’d like a day to the market, Uraume accompanied you speaking idly with you as you both looked around. “Do you know where he went, Uraume?” Uraume sighed and bowed his head, “I’m not actually sure where Lord Sukuna went. I just knew, when he told me to stay, it wouldn't be for the best whatever he could be doing.”

Uraume was right, after being out all day and returning home you found your son outside in the snow. You watched as the tree’s branches that were crumbling were cut away by his technique. He turned to you holding out a branch that seemed to be blooming with life and pink magnolias. “It will bloom again, all it needs is a little help.” It was a strange sight seeing your big four armed two faced baby boy kneeling by a tree wrapping it with care where he had inserted new branches to give it life. You smiled walking closer, placing your hand on his back, “It will look beautiful Ryo, but it won’t be the same as before.” Rubbing circles on his back he hummed, tying off the last bit of fabric, “Its roots will always be the same no matter how much time passes it knows where it comes from. But, with time everything you see will change from what it once was to something new and different from what it once was.”

His stare hardened on the tree, “You’re not talking about the tree…” his voice had a melancholic waver to it. Your hand rested on his shoulder giving it a squeeze. “If I could help you… would you let me…?” You watched the side of his face, his eyes flickering to be downcast. You stood there in silence, he knew the answer. When he threw away his humanity to become something more, you had become distraught over him. Fretting and worrying to the point that he almost regrets his decision. But now, he didn’t regret throwing away his humanity because of your worry. He regrets it knowing now you’ll leave him alone one day, with no home, and no love. He was your boy, and you loved him, but you knew the time would come when he would be alone in this world to make his own way entirely.

That night when you sat outside on that cold stone bench under the scarce blossoms, you looked up at the stars. The tears in your eyes threatened to fall as you smiled. The cold air biting at your skin made your complexion soft. Uraume was wary of serving you the tea Sukuna had given to be prepared. Yet there stood Uraume placing the cup in front of you with a solemn look. “Is something wrong, Uraume?” Uraume hummed, setting down a few extra things, “I’m not sure entirely.” You motioned for them to sit, they sat. Uraume brought a cup for themself. They wanted to know what was so special about it.

—- —- —- —- —-

Time had passed, you noticed the improvements in your being even as your age progressed. It had you questioning why or more specifically what Sukuna had done. Making your way to the small ball age at the base of the mountain was a mistake. It was then you heard the words being said about your son. Words you knew to be true, you kept to your business looking to see if you could catch sight of him anywhere. Nowhere. You continued to tend to your own business until you ran into someone familiar, Uraume’s mother. She wasn’t the woman you knew before, instead she was the hallowed remains of who she once was. She was hanging by a post, more dead than alive. The sign stated, “All those proven to be an accomplice or in support of Ryomen Sukuna will be tied to the post and left for death to consume them.” The fear had your heart racing as you looked on, her eyes were dead and grey, her head moved slightly in its position, as if she were nodding off between death and life.

“It’s a shame there are humans supporting the curse that’s written to plague and end humanity.” You looked at the man beside you, he was staring at the scene. “The rumour is his mother is still alive and she’s just as ugly a character as he is.”

You wanted to say something but it felt like the words wouldn’t leave you. You sighed looking down causing the man to look at you in interest with a smile.

—- —- —- —- —-

Sukuna was entering the town, shaman and Uraume in tow. He had been communicating with the Shaman about certain things and how to accomplish certain actions.

It was odd when they arrived and the city was quiet. Curiosity had piqued both the Shaman and Sukuna’s interest. In silence they ventured further, until they heard the commotion. “KILL HER SHE DESERVES TO DIE!” An older woman’s voice. “HANG HER LIKE THE LAST WOMAN SHE DESERVES TO SUFFER THE WAY WE HAVE.” “YOU'LL BURN IN HELL FOR THE HELL YOU'VE BROUGHT ON THIS EARTH.” The trio stopped seeing who it was.

You were strung up on a post, arms tied behind you around that post. Your feet kicking to hold your weight up, the blood that was pouring out of your mouth matching the red, purple and dark marks littered on your skin where your robes had been torn, your laugh was as sick as the malicious smile on your face, “All of you,” your back arched as you forced yourself to breathe, “Remember this face,” in arching your back your head tilted to the side as you sputtered out blood, “Because I’ll curse every single one of you for generations and I’ll make you all suffer.” Your feet slipping against the post your weight dropped pulling at the flesh of your shoulders. You were bound to die soon, you wouldn’t suffer like Uraume’s mother who laid on the floor finally dead after they cut her down.

Your head dropped, feeling a stab between your shoulders.

Sukuna could see the brief flicker of sadness in your eyes, you didn't lift your head but he could see the tears slowly started to run. Sukuna could kill them all… he could.. kill them.. all

He was there, in front of you covered in blood. It happened so fast, he was looking up at you, you smiled at him, your eyes softened but the tears didn’t stop. “Ryomen.” Your voice was cheerful despite being near death, infront you wasn’t the 2 faced 4 armed man the world knew as a monster.

In Front of you was your 12 yo boy who was crying reaching up to you for you to hold him and wipe away his tears after some adventure of his went wrong.

Only this time you couldn’t wipe away the tears welling up in his eyes, “…mama…” His voice was just as vulnerable and small as the day he first called out for you. His arms coming up to hold you as he freed you, “You can’t leave me.” You stood there on weak legs, you were tired. He was knelt in front of you, guiding his head to your chest he laid there, his tears falling silently, you placed one of your hands on his head, the other gently rubbing his back, “My little boy is all grown up,” you kissed the top of his head hugging him the best you could, “Remember what I told you, the things you see will change, but your roots will always be the same.” He was trembling in your hold, “aw, my little Ryo.” Resting your head on his as you fell against him to your own knees, “I love you my sweet boy, but it’s time for you to go on your own now.” Your tears hadn’t stopped falling, Ryomen’s tears began to mimic your own. “You can’t leave me…” His voice was soft but it wouldn’t stall your death.

There you fell against him, lifeless eyes with a melancholic smile. It was then that Uraume and Kenjaku approached. Uraume carefully pulled your body from his hands, they would give you a proper burial. Sukuna stood, Kenjaku was amused by the entire situation, “You should alert your father. I'm sure he deserves to know his wife has passed. But now that it’s settled and there’s nothing left to detain you, I’m sure you’ll agree to my plan now won’t you?”

—- —- —- —- —-

500 years had passed, Sukuna everyday had grown to live for himself more and more. Every spring he’d see that tree blossom, and think of your burial under it. You never told him you’d be with him forever, but he begged you to stay and you never did.

He was living in his tyranny, he was unstoppable. Today has been 513 years since you passed, your death was no longer as tragic as it was five centuries ago, but on occasion his thoughts would linger on the memories of laying his head on your lap. When he had fought you over not wanting to shower so you dunked him like a cat and he screamed like you were murdering him. He remembered the night his body had changed, and you held him tight, all that night not once had he seen his father. He remembers when you would make him mad and you’d ask him for a kiss he’d deny it with an angry pout only to be pulled into your hug for you to kiss him all over. He remembered laughing in your hold, how ok his birthdays you’d do anything to make sure he was happy. From taking him to that place that would feed him all he could eat, to letting him choose the colours of his own Yukata. He remembers when you would pick him up throwing him into the air and he’d smile feeling like he would always be this happy. Even when his blood thirst first began he remembered how you would scold him for coming home bruised or wounded, yelling at him and trying to teach him reverse curse technique. He remembers the day you taught him about binding vows, and how he should never trust anyone to make a vow unless he knows the true intentions of that person. You taught him to look for the fine details and loopholes in every technique recorded you could find. He remembered holding your hand, when he was small, and it felt like you would always be there to guide him, to hold his hand and smile at him with those soft eyes, calling him name back home when he would stray too far.

His melancholic attitude was inevitable, and sadly it was the day his vulnerability would be taken advantage of. He was ambushed by sorcerers, and it was as if it triggered something. An Onryo stood behind him, double his size, her eyes were wrapped in bandages, her hair was long and untamed, her nails was grown out into claws and her white yukata was closed tight, taking the sword form her mouth her back arched and she let out a terrifying scream, it was as if she multiple voices. “DONT TOUCH MY SON.” It was the swing of her sword that cut down half of the sorcerers standing and cutting through the earth's surface itself. Even then they held up a good battle, but his fate was sealed.

There was a brief moment in his innate domain where he came face to face with his mother. She smiled at him, “Look at my little Tyrant, all grown up.” He looked at you in disbelief before you remembered something, “SO HELP ME RYOMEN SUKUNA IF YOU LET THAT WOMAN WHO WAS RUNNING AROUND AND HOLDING ON TO YOU NAKED I WILL COME BACK AND TAKE YOU OUT OF THIS WORLD MYSELF HAVE SOME SELF RESPECT I SHOULD GIVE YOU A GOOD ONE RIGHT NOW FOR NOT PUSHING HER OFF OF YOU QU-“ You were cut off as he hugged you. He was no longer in his true form, rather changed to be smaller with two arms and a normal face. You sighed with a smile, placing a hand on his head, never failing to rub his back in comfort, “I missed you too you big man child.” He scoffed but didn’t let go, “You didn’t leave me.” You laughed, “It’s funny now, but how could I when you basically cursed me with your crying and don’t leave me mama.” You mocked him and he rolled his eyes, but he didn’t let go.

“Well it might be a while before I see you again, so let me lend to you my special abilities. A way to create an open domain, a move known as the world slash, and my cursed energy. I’ll be here when you need me.” You kissed the top of his head one final time and he nodded. It was quiet when he mumbled the words “I love you mama…” you smiled at him and you could feel his conscious fading with the colours of this world, “I love you too my little Ryo.”

Tags: @sad-darksoul @satorisgirl @bontensbabygirl @lupita97lm @queen-luna-007 @venus-seeks @bofadeezs @shytastemakerthing @sakuxxi @mercymccann @certainduckanchor @najiiix @bakugou-katsukis-wife @amitiel-truth @souyasplushie @mylovelessnightmare @ynjimenez @princessluvz @furiousblacktiger @anyaswlrd @shytastemakerthing @alialucille @domainofmarie

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fluff-n-cookies · 3 days

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Hello :)

Could you please do and platonic Aizawa x daughter reader?

His daughter is in her teen years so she is being like really rebel and all that so they fought a lot, but one day she just breaksdown during one fight and starts crying and apologizing for being a shitty daughter?

I have been avoiding this for so long, and it's all because I have no idea how aizawa would handle something like this. because it goes against everything that Aizawa would try and teach his kid so this may be a little forcefully written, apologies.

TW : unhealthy parenting, mental illness, some suicidal thoughts, probably angsty shit, I dunno, read at your own risk.

We can start this by walking through how this may start in the first place. I think the best place to start is that reader's mom left her and Aizawa when she was very young, and Aizawa, assuming here he didn't understand how to properly tell her why her mother left her, never tells her why.

Now reader is very young so she might blame one of two things.

herself

her father

While both instances would technically work, I think the more favorable option is she blames herself since a young child would probably never blame an adult they look up to and hold dear as the problem.

Up to this point her father has been really kind to her so the only other variable is her, this spirals into social anxiety, low self esteem, and depression. all of which don't help when you have an absent mother and a neglectful father who is both a teacher and a full time hero, which leaves little to no room for children.

(this is also why I think it isn't realistic for Aizawa to keep Eri or a child without another non-hero caretaker. Fight me, I dare you.)

As time goes on, and this child becomes a teenager, she might not know how to properly express her feeling and after being misguided by factors like the internet, other adults, and "friends" she might take out the feeling of being abandoned on her closest caretaker and another source of her problems; Aizawa.

if you purposely yell at him or start arguments it's not going to be very fun because Aizawa has this complex where if his students or other heros represent incompetence or arrogance he expels them or ignores him rather than explaining it to them and helping them improve, this is especially with students.

and since he lacks a true connection with you as his daughter mainly because of his job(s) and past with Oboro which he is still trying to heal from keeping him from bonding with you, he'll treat you as a student like the rest of the teenagers he knows. and even then, you may actually be treated worse than his students because while he interacts with them daily, he interacts with maybe 1 hour every other day.

so from all that he simply ignores you, just stops interacting with you entirely, he's too tired for your bullshit. this action makes the wedge between you two even worse.

if you keep persisting though he will yell back but it's often really short and really loud. something like "SHUT UP" a cold "I don't care." before slamming the door in your face. He knows it's probably not right to do that to your daughter but let's face it. you're just this annoying teenager he legally has to live with if he doesn't want to lose his hero and teaching license.

this is where things actually get very interesting, because let's assume he stops approaching you entirely, you just live in the same house nothing more than that, and while you may act like you hate your father for ruining your family and neglecting you all your life on the outside, remember, you're still that little kid in second grade that blames yourself for your mother leaving and your father not caring for you.

so let's say you realize this and go back to blaming yourself for everything like you did when you where a kid but since your father stopped talking to you entirely explaining your faults to him maybe difficult.

this where my personal experiences come in, I've actually had this happen to me in my own life, and I truely hope that you'll enjoy it. thank you.

---------

why is it that the voices are the loudest in the dead of night?

the moon is gone, the birds are silent, there isn't a single light that shines on your tear streaked face, puffly, swollen, sad, just sad.

years of confusion, neglect, a lack of love in it's purest form.

all because of you.

it's all because of you.

it's sings so prettily, like it's a church choir spreading the word of the lord like it's common knowledge.

it's common knowledge that you are a terrible person!

it cackles.

the urge to strangle yourself to finally feel some relief has never been stronger.

lie awake in the dead of night, in pitch darkness, a proper scenery to match ones broken and cracked soul, be careful, you might hurt yourself, again.

however, one cannot weep in their wallows forever.

the night has to make way for the morning sun.

and a relaxed self pity has to make way to dread.

dread.

dread of him, he who you blame for everything, everything you know is your fault.

it's all your fault.

a click at the door,

the creak of the old wood and the hinges never oiled.

mild thumping footsteps that wander around the apartment that can barely hold your overflowing buckets of tears.

you can mumble out all your pleas.

pleas that this is all a terrible nightmare and your real life is actually one with a kind and loving mother and a supportive and encouraging father.

mumble out the little lies that you made up all these years to make yourself feel worse and other better.

"it's pointless to keep trying."

"I wish I wasn't here."

"why can't I just be happy?"

"it's all my fault,

it's all my fault,

it's all my fault."

the thin walls don't do those in mourning justice though.

for the wind is calm, the branches don't dare to move, the owls, the bats, the sleeping heros in training downstairs don't make a peep.

for the only ones alive, awake, aware, is a man beaten down and broken by society serving as it's protector, ignoring the one in most need of protection all this time. With him is a girl. a girl that's scared, scared of her mirror image that haunts her, a girl who's cried an ocean, screamed a thousand wails of pain, a girl lost in her own heart,

"No wonder no one loves you."

you lie again.

but keen ears trained from years of work with villains hears you, for the first time, he hears you.

not the rebellious teen he's seen yell out strings of pure hatred and fiery insults like he's her own worst enemy.

it's the girl who he saw waiting on the steps to their apartment all those years ago. waiting for her mama to come back home with the promise of cupcakes.

it's the girl who never smiled for the remainder of elementary school.

it's the girl who's heart withered way that autumn evening.

he heard the softest little voice in the dead of night. he heard his daughter cry

"No wonder no one loves you."

"But I love you."

for that whole night, for that whole night.

the peace was disturbed.

for that whole night, it seemed that the moon shone once again.

it may not be the sun. but it'll do for now.

Aizawa walked away shortly after that.

leaving a little girls and her mirror image to ponder.

ponder.

---------

Afterwards I don't think he'd talk about it too much, he's proabably approach you after breakfast the next morning and tell you "you can talk to him about it if you want." but not much more than that

he definitely would change his practices though. like getting you a therapist, taking the weekends off in favor of being around the house more.

he'll let you get used to his presence first like one would with a cat, and one day. maybe years later, or tomorrow, you'll talk to him.

you'll tell him you love him too.

and maybe.

just maybe.

the world will stop,

and everything will be okay.

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gay-for-zoya · 2 days

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You have been chosen for a great destiny. For years you don't know yet it's still guides you and your choices. Your people are scared, they have magic and yet it is forbidden. You have magic and you have to hide it. Then one day you find out you are going to protect the prince as he ascends to the throne and help him bring magic back to the land. You will no longer have to live in fear, this is a dream you have been wishing since you were a child. So you dedicate yourself to him. For years you are by his side, you become friends, you spend every day with him. He is going to free your people after all. You will do anything to keep him safe, it almost becomes an obsession. Opportunities come to kill the tyrant king and lift his ban. But it will put the prince in danger. So you let them pass. After a few years he becomes king. You are one step closer to freeing the land. He has not yet lifted the ban. That's ok, you tell yourself he will one day. You exhaust yourself protecting him, putting yourself and people of magic at risk in doing so. Because one day it'll pay off, but you find that day does not come. He is your life and the very reason you live. And you fail. He dies in your arms. The man you've spent so long protecting and you've failed. Your were fates fool. And so you wait for years in the hopes he will return. In the hopes you can both fulfill your destiny's. Because otherwise it was all for nothing. All your work and hope and love and what was it for?

You watch as innocent people are killed. You try to argue against there death but it never works. They are killed because they have magic and you find this unfair. You are kind and compassionate, yet outspoken and stubborn. You to are destined for something, though you will never know it. Nightmares torment you and they soon become your reality. Your dreams show you the future. This was the first sign of your magic. As it develops further you are terrified. The man who is supposed to love and protect you may have you killed if he finds out. You don't know who to go to and that is when she arrives. The first step to your fate, you half sister. After you are poisoned she takes you away. A year you spend with her and there your fear soon solidifies into anger and that anger quickly spirals into revenge. How dare they do this to your people? So slowly you turn against your friends, as the dreams get worse and the whispers from your sister become louder. You have already been betrayed once, who says it won't happen again? You become short tempered and violent. The second step. They'll all leave you eventually, disgusted at what your becoming. You want to free your people and you want your oppressors to suffer. You want them to feel disgusted in themselves like you did. Why don't they understand this? Bitter hate is filling your heart. Your visions of the future are making you paranoid. The final step. You cannot escape this, watching yourself become what you swore to always hate. Do you even realise this? You die alone, consumed by anger. You have fulfilled your destiny. You become the villain fate wanted you to become. Did you enjoy it, the pain you caused others? Was it worth it? It doesn't matter because that is what you where born to do. You succeeded.

#they were both fucked over by there destiny's #merlin #morgana pendragon #merlin spoilers #bbc merlin #colin morgan #katie mcgrath #murther #merlin bbc #arthur pendragon #uther pendragon #lady morgana

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hyacinthsdiamonds · 3 days

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I don't know how many times I've had to make posts like this, but, judging from what some of you feel comfortable throwing into the tags, another one is sorely needed.

A reminder: the 2000s remains the only decade in f1 history without a driver fatality. It is nothing short of a miracle that all the drivers involved in incidents today are OK. As a collective, we may have bitched and moaned about the safety regulations when they were first introduced but thank god for them. So many drivers are lucky enough to walk away from horrific crashes, do not tempt that luck by wishing your behated driver will crash out or worse, or by making memes poking fun at the incident because you are just tempting fate there.

You may not know the name Lorenzo Bandini, but he was one of countless drivers who have lost their lives in motorsport. He, like Charles and Carlos, was a Ferrari driver, and he died three days after an accident during the 1967 Monaco Grand Prix due to his injuries. For context, Monaco's current reigning Prince, Albert ii, was nine years old at the time. It may seem like a lifetime ago, and in some ways, it is, but it is still in living memory.

Maybe you're new to the sport and are unaware of the sport's deadly history. Trust me when I say you do not want to be watching when the miracles don't happen. It stays with you.

Most of the drivers know someone who was killed during an accident, some were present when the worst happened. They would be beyond disgusted to see what some of you write about their colleagues and their friends.

Please just show some basic human decency, thank you.

#f1 #formula 1 #formula one #monaco gp 2024

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notafragilething · 14 hours

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I'm Figuring Out This Timeline: I think I might have it?

There are so many stills overlapping with what 118 family is wearing in the hospital and I need to put this into a timeline order that makes logical sense.

We're going to start with the assumption that the fire and Eddie being caught with by Kim by Marisol and Christopher happened roughly at the same time.

It's worth pointing out that Eddie is wearing a long-sleeve white or tan shirt as you can see in this picture (be warned, it's the cut kiss from that scene but you can see the shirt best).

In the hospital scene we know that Hen is wearing a army green shirt with a jean jacket, Chimney is wearing a marron shirt with a black zip up over it, Buck is wearing a short sleeve stripped shirt and Eddie is wearing a short sleeve navy shirt.

So we know for sure that Eddie changes before he goes to the hospital. Which leads my theory that the four get a phone call in the morning. It seemed like it was potentially the middle of the night of the night when the fire happened and they would want to get them stable before friends would be contacted.

So other photos we have is Hen in the kitchen here (time of day cannot be determined), Buck and Tommy on a date here (appears to be night), Buck and Eddie talking in Eddie's house here (appears to be day based on light coming in window), Hen outside with her phone during the day here and here, Chimney, Hen, Eddie in hospital without name tags here and here (appears to be day based on light from window behind them).

So I personally think they're all going to get the phone call during that morning. It's why in all the stills (when it's light out) we see them not wearing name tags. They haven't been checked in yet and are just arriving. We see them later in the episode, when they're calling people with nametags, here. The lack of nametag also makes me think Hen's still on the phone outside happened before the hospital is likely her getting the phone call.

That means the Buddie scene with Eddie's parents either happens right before or after the hospital. If it happened before, the shot of Buck coming in with the phone may be him telling Eddie about Bobby and they rush to the hospital. The scenes of them talking in the living room would have to happen before that because you cannot convince me these two wouldn't immediately rush to Bobby's side if they thought he was dying. They're not having a discussion.

The other possibility is it happens after they're the hospital. They may decide to do rounds and Eddie goes home to find his parents here. That would allow time for them to have a conversation about what is happening and is the one I'm leaning towards. Because it would provide time for them to talk about it. If this is the case, I think it's potentially Chimney or Maddie on the phone with Buck giving an update when we see him entering the room with his phone.

The only part I am super struggling to place is the date between Buck and Tommy. Because it's just...not making sense with what we see if the times of day are correct. Because that date is clearly at night.

And Buck seems really, really happy in it. Which is strange is Bobby is fighting for his life. So my gut tells me this is the opening of the episode and Buck gets the phone call about Bobby and rushes to the hospital. Which is likely what it is. However, it's night. And early enough that they're eating, which seems to early in the evening then when the fire occurred and doesn't line up with when Hen seems to be getting notified. And it wouldn't make sense for Buck to be wearing the same thing as the night before.

The other option is this happens after both the hospital and Buddie scene. That in the evening he and Tommy have dinner together. The only way this makes any sense to me is Bobby wakes up pretty quickly. It doesn't seem like we're at the point yet with Christopher leaving (that seems to be happening on a different day) so Buck might also not be worried or even know about that yet.

Which would be a pretty major twist if Bobby being hospitalized is short lived and not part of the main plot. But multiple people have said there are tons of twists so maybe?

What do you all think?

#911 abc #evan buckley #bucktommy #tommy kinard #tevan #bts #firepilot #eddie diaz #buddie #evan buck buckely #hen wilson #chimney han #911 spoilers

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run2rae · 1 day

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TEENAGE GOJO x GN!READER

CONTEXT: It's your first time coming to Jujutsu High after the tragic incident that had happened with your family being completely murdered by a curse. You had nothing left to live for until you were found, and brought into Jujutsu High. Your mind is going crazy, too scared to who you might meet. Will they like you? Will they hate you? But oh? Who is that over there? BEFORE YOU READ: There may be small grammar mistakes or typos, so please bare with me!

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. 　　　. 　　˚　✭　　　*　　　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　　✭　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　　　　　　 ✦

"You will be fine. This will be a great opportunity for you to grow. Trust me.". You look at Masamichi, still conflicted. You were strong, but you were pretty sensitive. A broken arm? That's nothing. Bleeding out? Pfft, please. Being put down by others? God. You felt so weak. "I'm not..sure. Do you really think i'll be okay? What if they don't like me and what if-". You start to say every word going through your head without being able to control what's even coming from your mouth, until Masamichi cuts you off. "Y/n. Listen. Everyone here is great. They're all strong and will accept you no matter what. You're a kind person, if anyone thinks otherwise they need to get their eyes checked. You haven't even met them yet, how could you assume anything about them?". Masamichi was right. You always assumed that everyone thought the worse out of you without even actually knowing them. "Y-you're right. I apologize.". You look down in embarrassment as Masamichi starts to walk towards the classroom where the students were waiting to meet you as you followed behind him. 'Y/n you got this' you said to yourself in your mind. As Masamichi opened the door and you walked along side him, you felt eyes fall on you. You didn't even look up to see them yet, but you felt the tension of being watched by multiple eyes. "Everyone, this is F/n L/n. They are a grade 1 sorcerer. Please welcome them with open arms.”. You look up to see a girl your age. She had short brown hair with a mole under her right eye. She seemed so cool.

“H-Hello! My name is F/n L/n. It’s great to meet you all. I’m hoping we all get along and I’m hoping to learn lots from you!”. You bow down and get back up, waiting for Masamichi to say anything else, but he doesn’t.

“Hey, I’m Shoko Leiri.”. She said as she smiled to you, you smiled back her.

“Suguru Geto.”. Geto was very handsome. He seemed like a very reliable person.

You look over next to Geto and see a beautiful white haired boy. He had gorgeous blue eyes, very long legs. He was staring at you, almost looking as if he was mesmerized by you.

“The names Satoru Gojo!”. He sounded like a cheerful guy. Not only was he extremely handsome, he seemed outgoing too.

“I don’t recommend going near Satoru, he’s a lot to handle.”. Shoko said and you giggled at her words. Gojo looked annoyed crossing his arms and looking the other way.

“You always say that, Shoko! I’m not THAT bad.”

After your encounter with everyone in your grade, you were led to your room. Masamichi said his farewell and walked away. You get settled into your room. As soon as you finish, you hear a knock at your door. You assumed it was Masamichi coming back to remind you about anything he forgot to tell you, so you open the door quickly seeing a very tall figure at your door.

“O-Oh! Hello! Gojo was it?”. You say nervously not expecting him to be at your door. He was so tall. You were at shock that someone can even be his height.

“Hey, yeah. I-I was just wondering how you were doing settling in, you know… You need help with anything?”. A faint smile appearing on his face looking into your eyes. You were distracted from how blue his eyes were looking at you. You didn’t know what to say, but you quickly snapped back into reality.

“Oh! How kind of you. I’m doing alright. Erm.. no I don’t need any help. Thank you, though! I’ll be sure to come to you if needed!”. You say to him, giving him a huge smile. He felt his heart stop for a second. You were so beautiful just standing there looking at him. You looked like a happy puppy, he was in awe.

“O-Oh i see! Well, see you around! I’ll be outside with Suguru & Shoko training a bit. Feel free to drop by anytime if you..need help training or..anything like that..”. Gojo said as he was walking backwards away from your room, almost tripping. You wave as he walked away smiling to him. Maybe it won’t be so bad after all.. ---------------------------------------------------------------------- This will be a new series of TeenageGojo x Reader ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა I hope you enjoyed! Please send any requests you may have for my next TeenageGojo x Reader !!

#anime #gojo satoru #gojo saturo #gojo x reader #jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu gojo #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #geto suguru #jujutsu geto #jjk geto #jjk shoko #shoko ieiri #jujutsu kaisen shoko #jujustu kaisen

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coeluvr · 14 hours

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If I want to follow Hunter's route, do I have to keep showing my love to them in order to succeed? I can see that their route seems to be really anxious. I guess the MC may need a strong and stable heart to stick to it? I don't know.

In my setting, my MC has experienced the death of her family, moving away from home, and living under someone else's roof. My MC may be more fragile and depressed. I think if she doesn't get a positive or loving response in Hunter's route, she may give up Hunter painfully, although she still loves them.I really can't imagine how a MC with anxiety problems can be together with Hunter smoothly.Hunter also seemed to have anxiety issues of their own.

Also, I really like your writing. I was having a blast playing this new found treasure game, and I thought the route with Hunter was a sweet and cute story of friends turning into lovers! When I finished playing, I was still not satisfied and opened your Q&A to see the story about Hunter, which triggered even more anxiety in me. I hate you (no, I love you)

No, your MC doesn't have to profess their love every 2 minutes to succeed with Hunter. They do have to show they care though, that they are there for them.

I think Hunter's route is kind of about endurance. And MC will also have to get to know Hunter better which will take time because no offense to our dear MC but I will say that their optional crush on Hunter is a lot of idealization since they don't really know the adult them (play the 18th Birthday short story in the demo for a bit more context on this!)

So MC will have to get to know the real Hunter (if they wish for that) and then... then they will have to figure out if an actual honest good real relationship can happen between them, and if they even like or love the real Hunter or not.

Hunter's route is the most slowburn of them all so this is going to take a while so your MC will have to endure and be firm on their feelings.

In Hunter's uncle's aka Lancelot's soon to be famous words (chapter 4 has him being pathetic hehe): when you truly love someone you never falter no matter what.

Also I'm not sure why everyone thinks there won't be any "Hunter faltering and dying and throwing up because they kinda sorta are starting to like MC back but shouldn't at all in 4k HD" like guys please...

Anyway, thank you for your kind words! 💗

#coe answers #coaaf if: hunter

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dan-asd · 3 days

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Dootl, Sophont Pterosaurs

The Dootl are a species of modern pterosaur in Galis, they live in mutualistic relationships with the Sorotl and the Kuh'ootl. Transcription of the crest about the Dootl's crests: "

Dootl crests, and Doa-doa crests in general, are quite the odd ones out in nature. Their crests grow very slowly when left alone, forming a low dome over their heads and a ridge over their beak. This happens due to the crest's growth depending on hormonal glands, located in other parts of their body. When left alone, the crest grows in an all directions at once, resulting in a very unremarkable shape. Dootl instinctively use their hormonal glands every morning after they wake up, they lay the sticky hormone-rich liquid where they wish the crest to grow. Dootl caudal hands possess a pair of short fingers specialized in carving their own crests, this helps them refine the shape of their crests.

Crests grow in consistent cycles among the Dootl, a quick burst of growth happens at the first two weeks of the three mont long cycle. After that quick burst of growth, the hormonal glands go dormant, and the little liquid that it makes are typically stored for use in case of a crest break. After roughly two months, the hormonal glands go completely dormant. The crest tissue and internal structure grows brittle, and breaks away easily. This cycle is very important for Dootl cultures. The crests may be important for artistic expression, the brittle crest remains for religious use, and the cycles themselves may be used as the base of a calendar." Im going to overhaul this species soon as their proportions and aerodynamics are currently a bit bad

#spec evo #speculative evolution #spec bio #speculative biology #my art #worldbuilding #galis #pterosaur #art #sophont

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its-brigsby · 4 months

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I looked soooo cute this evening for a lil cinema trip with my best pal to see Blade Runner

#me #selfie #I'm feeling good #it may be short lived but it is happening #hopefully we are back

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westofessos · 8 months

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Only Murders in the Building S3 finale spoilers under the cut!

They are SICK for making me think Steve Martin got shot. SICK. Absolutely disgusting. I will never forgive them for that one.

That being said I need season four immediately. But only because he’s okay.

#when it happened I may have screamed ��STEVE!!’ out loud in my living room in the middle of the night and then immediately burst into tears #I have such an attachment to steve martin it’s kind of a problem #what can I say I grew up with him #only murders in the building #only murders spoilers #only murders s3 #only murders season 3 #only murders in the building spoilers #omitb #omitb spoilers #omitb season 3 #steve martin #martin short #selena gomez #meryl streep #paul rudd

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365filmsbyauroranocte · 1 year

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Films watched in 2023.

Top 10 January.

1. Une femme mariée (Jean-Luc Godard, 1964) 2. Stars at Noon (Claire Denis, 2022) 3. Rosa la rose, fille publique (Paul Vecchiali, 1986) 4. RRR (S.S. Rajamouli, 2022) (gif vía: wrightedgar) 5. Incroyable mais vrai (Quentin Dupieux, 2022) 6. Easy Living (Mitchell Leisen, 1937) 7. Avec amour et acharnement (Claire Denis, 2022) 8. Short Stay (Ted Fendt, 2016) 9. Decision to Leave (Park Chan-wook, 2022) 10. Like Nothing Happened (Ryûsuke Hamaguchi, 2003)

(My list on Letterboxd -click here-)