#this will probably be blocked from the main tag because of the title of the song

[wannab-urs]

Title: Harsher Than the Bark

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader

Summary: Javi makes you feel things you’ve never felt before, will never feel with anyone else, but he can’t – or won’t – love you. 

Tags: smoking, probably shit spanish, smut, angst, fingering, squirting, unprotected PiV, probably unrealistic amount of orgasms (like 4 idk it’s kinda vague, choking/breath play, Javi has dom vibes but it’s not like BDSM he’s just bossy, one “good girl,” begging, religious imagery because Javi makes you see god, biting, that one position from that one scene – you fucking know the one, excessive cursing because it’s me and I refuse to change, Javi is a cuddler, emotionally unavailable!Javi, references to past arguments/past hookups because this has been an ongoing thing and I love to start in the middle of a story. Based on 505 by Arctic Monkeys, (being annoying and posting at 5:05 am) No beta we die like Oberyn WC: 1.4k

A/N: I kind of wrote this in a fever dream, I literally don't even know if it's any good. It's sort of a planned three parter, but I'm not putting pressure on myself to finish it, so each part can stand completely alone. If I write all three, it'll be called In the A.M. as in In the Morning but also because they're all based on Arctic Monkeys songs. Hope you like it <3

Series Masterlist | Javier Peña Masterlist | Main Masterlist | AO3 | Kofi

The knife twists at the thought that I should fall short of the mark Frightened by the bite, though it's no harsher than the bark

Javier Peña is probably the best fuck you’ve ever had in your life. Actually, scratch that. He’s definitely the best fuck you’ve ever had in your life. He makes you feel things you’ve never felt before. Coming three times in one night with him is the absolute bare minimum. He loves it when you scream for him. Does everything in his power to get you a noise complaint from your neighbors. 

And God is he gorgeous. Long and lean with strong arms, broad shoulders, a tiny waist, a perky ass. His nose looks like it was carved off a greek statue and placed on his face. He’s got these big sad brown eyes, full lips framed by a neatly trimmed mustache, and a jawline that could cut glass. You’re probably in love with him. 

You put out your cigarette when you hear the door open, lay back in the bed and stare at the ceiling. It’s five in the morning, but you never turn him away. No matter what time. 

“Shouldn’t leave the door unlocked, hermosa,” Javi’s deep drawl drifts across the room to you. 

“Knew you were coming. Didn’t wanna have to get up.” 

Javi drops his shirt on the floor and crawls up the bed, draping himself over you and pressing a kiss to your lips. “No es seguro, cariño. Anyone could walk in.” (It’s not safe, baby).

“Lo que sea, Javi.” (Whatever, Javi). You roll your eyes at him. “It’s locked now, no?” 

Javi drags his lips along your jaw, nips at your throat, drags a finger through your folds. “Wet already, baby? Were you thinking of me?” 

You were, but you kind of hate him for being right. “Fuck you, Jav–” his name drags out into a moan as he stuffs two thick fingers inside you. He pumps his fingers in and out a couple times before curling them up into the spongy spot inside you. You throw your head back in pleasure, back arching and hips thrusting so that you’re practically riding his fingers. 

He wraps the fingers of his free hand carefully around your throat. “Mírame.” (Look at me). You force your eyes open and he’s so close you could count the individual hairs in his mustache. You look into his eyes with so much adoration, so much love, he has to look away. He squeezes your throat tighter and you close your eyes again as your cunt tightens on his fingers. 

He rubs circles on your clit in time with the thrust of his fingers, feeling you wind tighter and tighter around him. His hand on your throat isn’t blocking air, but you still can’t catch your breath. When your body is so tense it feels like you’ll shatter into a million pieces, he releases the hand on your throat. You gasp in a big breath and fall apart in his hands. He works you through it with firm, slow strokes. 

Just as you feel yourself start to come down, he picks up the pace again. He places the hand that was on your throat on your pelvis, holding you down on the mattress and rubs his thumb in quick, hard circles on your clit. He pumps his fingers into you hard and fast. 

“Come for me, hermosa. Come all over my hand.” 

Your vision whites out and you let out a near agonized scream as you clench around his fingers and gush all over him. Javi pulls his fingers out of you and slips them into your mouth. You suck the taste of yourself off his fingers. 

“Good girl,” he growls in your ear. He stands up, leaving you panting on the bed, and strips his jeans off. He strokes himself as he gets back on the bed, hand still slick with your cum. He pulls your thighs over his and you wrap your legs around him. He drags his cock through your folds and watches you shudder. 

“You’re soaked… You want me to fuck you?” The bastard is teasing you. You whine his name. “Las palabras, cariño.” (Words, baby). 

“Need you, Javi. Please. I need you so bad,” you’re desperate, aching for him. He taps your clit with the head of his cock one more time before lining up with your entrance and pushing in. You let out an absolutely wrecked moan, voice breaking as he bottoms out. 

He leans forward, planting his hands on either side of your head and pulls out before plunging back down inside you. He has your hips tilted almost vertically, driving you down into the mattress with every thrust. You dig your nails into the meat of his shoulders and drag them down his back, making him groan into your neck. 

Fucking Javi is always a religious experience. You find salvation and damnation at once in his arms and you swear you see God himself when you come on his cock. 

Javi doesn’t slow down despite the way you clench around him. He often works out his frustrations in your body, tries to bury them and himself in you. 

He pulls out and flips you over by your hips, sheathing himself inside you the second you’re on your knees in front of him. He fists one hand in your hair and pulls your back to his chest, wrapping the other hand around your breast. 

You lay your head on his shoulder and let the pleasure wash over you, lose yourself in it completely. You only exist in this moment, the pleasure and pain melding to form something divine inside you. He bites down on your neck and you come on his cock again, and you think you scream. You aren’t quite sure. 

Javi groans as he slams into you one, two, three more times and collapses forward onto the bed, trapping you under him. He stays inside you for a few more moments, nuzzling your neck. His lips catch your ear lobe as he pulls himself out of you and falls to the bed beside you. He wraps his arms around you, curling his body around yours, and holds you close. 

You lie in silence for a long time, just listening to each other breathe. This has become routine. Javi has a bad day at work and takes it out on your body in this bed. He never talks about it, about why he needs such a frenzied release, but you can guess. 

Sometimes, though, he’ll talk about growing up in Laredo or about a nice dinner he had with Connie and Steve or about an op that went well. Sometimes he lets you see beneath his hardened exterior. 

The truth is that you’re definitely in love with him. But Javi won’t ever be with you, not in the way you want. Javi won’t commit to being with you because this, what you just did, is all he thinks he deserves and all he knows how to do. He loves making you feel good, takes pride in making you come over and over and over. He loves making you moan and whine and scream for him. He loves it when you tell him how good he feels, how perfect he is, how pretty his cock is. He just doesn’t love you.

He always curls up with you, snuggles you close, clings to you. But if you bring up wanting something more, something defined and committed, he fucking runs. He can give you himself physically, but he can’t let you near his heart because it is rotten and caving in and no good. And you? You are good. He can’t touch you with that. The dark and broken part of himself. He can’t infect your good with his bad.

You know this and yet… 

A tear slips from your lashes, trailing down your cheek and falling onto the arm tucked under your cheek. 

“Cariño, ¿por qué lloras? (Baby, why are you crying?) He sounds… fucking anguished. “¿Te lastimé?” (Did I hurt you?)

“It’s nothing, Jav.” 

Javi sits up, grabs your face in his hands and makes you look at him. “It’s something. Dime.” (Tell me). 

“If I tell you, you’ll just fucking leave again, Javi. I can’t do this right now. Just hold me, please? Be here when I wake up?” 

Javi searches your eyes for a moment. You aren’t sure what he sees there. Heartbreak? Resignation? Desperation? Whatever it is convinces him. 

“Sure, yeah. I can do that.” 

#Javier Peña #Javier Peña fics #Javier Peña fanfiction #Javier Peña x reader #Javier Peña x you #Javi Peña #Javi Peña fics #Javi Peña fanfiction #Javi Peña x reader #Javi Peña x you #Javi P #Javi P fics #Javi P fanfiction #Javi P x reader #Javi P x you #Narcos #Narcos fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro fics #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedrostories

[june-doe-event]

Hello !! Welcome to the June Doe Ride The Cyclone event !!

This is a 30 Day Art (of any sorts !!) event that runs throughout June, however I will rb any posts with the prompts until mid July.

(Rules, Prompt List, & such are under the cut.)

Rules:

1. Absolutely no NSFW of ANY kind, the rtc kids are, in fact, kids.

2. Please tag this account in any posts (on here) that you make w the prompts !! I wanna see them !! :D

3. I'll rb posts made with the prompts from after June up until July, but after that I'm done w this acc for the year shsh

(Not a rule but just something that should be known, I have quite a few tags blocked so I might not see some posts, but I will try my best to rb all of them. If I don't see your content, send it to me in an ask !!)

This event accepts any forms of art, from drawings, to writing, to gifs, to edits, etc etc !! Be creative !!

Prompt List:

June 1st — Pride Month / Identities

Centered around any queer hcs with the choir !! Can range from coming out scenes 2 them going to pride, list is endless :)

June 2nd — Pre-Canon / Post-Canon

The choirs childhoods, right before the accident, what you think happens after the show, again, the list is endless !!

June 3rd — Favorite Platonic Relationship(s)

Maybe they're familial, or maybe they're just best friends !! Just, no romance :)

June 4th — Favorite Romantic Relationship(s)

Your favorite ship(s) !!

June 5th — Ricky's Birthday

Happy Birthday Ricky Potts !! Celebrate their birthday in whatever way you please !!

June 6th — Swapped Roles

Maybe Ocean is the most romantic girl in town, maybe Noel is the angriest girl in town !! Aka, the choir swaps titles & sorta personalities

June 7th — Legoland

The first play in the Uranium Teen Scream Trilogy !! Legoland content is ofc welcomed (& encouraged !!) for all of the prompts, but this is Legoland specific (if you don't have the script pdf & you'd like to read it, you can dm me either on this acc or on my main !!)

June 8th — Alternate Jane Doe

(Or John !!) Maybe Oceans parents never identified her, or maybe Noel was mangled beyond recognition !! Either way, someone else is left doll-like and confused.

June 9th — Someone Else Goes Back

Maybe Ocean votes Constance, or maybe the vote was unanimous like originally promised! Jane stays, someone else leaves.

June 10th — Mega Mall

The one(1) thing to do in Uranium. And Noel's personal hell.

June 11th — U-Pop

Ocean & Constance's (scripted) improv duo !! Sound off !!

June 12th — The Fair

What'd the choir get up to before the crash ? What were they doing ? What rides did they go on ? What'd they eat ?

June 13th — Uranium City

The Pride And Joy of Sweet Saskatchewan !! (<- literally a nightmare) !!

Or, something about the town itself !! It's history !!

June 14th — The Accident.

How'd they die ? What happened ? How did people react to it ? Who witnessed it ?

(If your content for this is gorey, please tag it appropriately.)

June 15th — Everybody Lives / Nobody Dies

Maybe they never rode the Cyclone in the first place, maybe they did but they survived, either way, everyone is fine !! (Or are they?)

June 16th — Religion

Ocean has three of them !! Something surrounding faith of some kind — or lack thereof !!

Alternative June 16th Prompt because I know some people may find the topic uncomfortable — Animals !!

Ricky's fourteen cats !! Penny & her love of animals !! Anything !!

June 17th — The Blackwood Cafe

The best (and probably only) cafe in Uranium !! Constance's family cafe, their pride and joy :)

June 18th — Cut Characters

Cut Character Submissions are welcome here no matter what, but this is specifically dedicated to them !! What was their reaction to the accident ? How did they die ? What was their backstory ?

June 19th — Zolar

The Fantasia Of Ricky Potts !! Anything to do with the world inside their head :)

June 20th — Songfic / Lyrics

Something surrounding a song you associate with the choir (or a certain member) !!

(Disclaimer this works for any type of art I just called it a songfic in the prompts list because it's. Easier ykyk)

June 21st — Summer

Happy Summer Solstice !! Anything 2 do with the current season :)

June 22nd — Graduation

What if they didn't die before they could graduate? How does that go?

June 23rd — Choir Event

Maybe it's last years Kiwanis, maybe it's a separate event !! Either way, they're performing again !!

June 24th — Production Specific

Instead of just general RTC, this prompt centers around a certain production !! (Be creative with it !! Use smaller ones !!)

June 25th — One Off Lines

Like how Ricky said in the 2016 previews that his mom read him the Little Prince TWENTY THREE TIMES (it was weird, he likes it), or how Ocean says that Constance 'has been a loose cannon since kindergarten' in the 2015 ver !! Anything surrounding stuff that they don't expand on.

June 26th — Jane's Dolly

How'd she find it? What if she had a different type of dolly? Just surrounding our favorite doll girl & her dolly :)

June 27th — Talia

Miss Talia Muruska Bolinska !! Is she real? How does she find out about the accident? How'd she meet Mischa? What was her life like?

June 28th — Families

The choirs' parents, them as a found family, the list goes on !! Just anything surrounding family :)

June 29th — Funerals

Because, these kids are dead, they have to have a memorial service of some sort !!

June 30th — Free Day

And, for our final day ( :( ) , we have a free day !! Do whatever you'd like !! :D

That's everything !! Feel free to send me asks with any questions you have !! :D

— Your moderator, @undescribed1mage :D

#bam !! #i really hope this does well shsh #ride the cyclone #rtc #legoland #legoland jacob richmond #legoland richmond #legoland play #st cassians chamber choir #ocean oconnell rosenberg #mischa bachinski #noel gruber #ricky potts #constance blackwood #jane doe #penny lamb

[gutouhua]

𝐭𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐝, 𝐬𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐯

title. tamed (shrine master’s bride part v) [on ao3]

rating. explicit

pairing. sukuna x f. reader

wc. 8.6k+

tags. low self-worth & self-esteem, mentions of ownership, sukuna has monster-like features (like elongated canines), eating fish, sukuna thinks about eating out reader, physical abuse to reader (not by sukuna), no beta we die like rex lapis

a/n. um idk how to feel about this ch but here it is ;-; can you tell i hate writing action scenes since i literally skipped over the action lmao. but omg thank y'all for hanging on & sorry i couldn't update earlier sldkfjskdf i had writer's block but hope this longer chapter makes up for it! no smut but next ch will feature face-sitting :D

“Do you think she knows?” A servant whispered to another. He trimmed the bushes lining the pathway to the main entrance of the Shirogane family’s residence with his back slightly turned so that his voice wouldn’t reach too far. There were eyes and ears everywhere so it never hurt to be too careful. 

“Probably not.” The other replied, stopping momentarily to lean closer, his tone conspiratorial. “It’d be quite obvious if she knew…she’d be throwing a fit and whatnot, making her unhappiness known to everyone. It’s a good thing she doesn’t know otherwise we’d all be suffering and–”

“What are you whispering about?” 

The two servants suddenly jumped at the sound of the Shirogane family’s prized daughter and immediately bowed their heads low in practiced prostration in hopes of appeasing her. But she would not be so easily tempered – she was used to bows like that, courtesy and respect weren’t given to her, it was owed to her. She didn’t give them permission to get up, so they stayed as they were, not daring to move or so much as utter a sound until she said something.

Hikaru had gloved hands crossed over her chest, fingers tapping impatiently against an arm. Trailing behind her was her poor maid, heaving and lagging behind her master with arms full of large, fancy boxes and decorated bags. Hikaru had probably just returned from a shopping trip in the city. 

“Well?” she said, expectantly.

Neither of the servants bothered pointing out that they didn’t dare say anything since she hadn’t explicitly asked them because answering her prematurely could very well be a death sentence. Servants were reliant on the whims of their masters, and Hikaru was not a kind one. 

“Are you going to tell me? Or shall I have the two of you strung up and inject mercury into your veins until you say something?”

They shuddered and fought the urge to cry out. Tales of the infamous torture technique of the Shirogane family were well known throughout the lands. It was a cruel method, one that slowly replaced every drop of blood in your veins with the silver mercury of the Shirogane family until nothing but mercury flowed through your body and your flesh bled pure silver. 

One servant spoke hesitantly while the two kept themselves in prostrated positions. “We were…just wondering if my lady had heard that with my lady’s upcoming pre-nuptial celebration with Kamo Masaru that–”

“Well of course I know that,” she snapped, tapping her heels impatiently on the immaculately laid out stone path. “Tell me something I don’t know, or is that too much thinking for lowlifes like you? Too dumb and stupid to do anything except listen to your masters.” she sneered. 

“Ah yes!” The servant squeaked, thin frame trembling like a leaf in the wind. “We were simply unsure if you heard that your cousin–”

“What about my cousin?” she interrupted again, staring hard at the cowering servant.

“That your cousin was going to come…” he finished lamely. 

Hikaru was silent for a moment, long enough for the servants to sneak a peek at her before averting their gaze yet again when she screeched out a reply. “She’s coming? But that’s impossible! She can’t come because she should’ve–” Been killed or eaten or whatever by that monster! How was it possible that you were still alive, and not just alive, but well enough to return to the family home? It was impossible. Unbelievable. Hikaru wouldn’t believe anything about you until she heard from her grandmother. 

Without even looking to see if her servant was following, she stormed through the main entrance in a hurry, disappearing in a flurry of voluminous skirts and ribbons and laces. The two servants who were trimming the bushes earlier cast Hikaru’s servant a sympathetic glance, but it was ultimately lost on her since she could hardly see atop her towering tower of boxes. 

When they’d both left, the two servants turned towards each other and said the same thing to each other. 

Fuck.

Hikaru stormed through the hallways, anger in every thunderous step she took. Any servant or Shirogane family member who saw her knew to flee as soon as they heard and saw the fury on her face. 

Hikaru needed answers. And she needed them now.

“Grandmother! Grandmother! Where are you?” 

Shirogane Hatsuko sat behind her desk with a steaming cup of tea in one hand, the other on a book, and had her eyes closed, breath even, as she readied herself for whatever demands Hikaru was about to launch forth. 

“Grandmother!” Hikaru slammed the door open with such force that the walls shook. 

Hatsuko turned to the source of her disturbance, face wrinkled in great displeasure. “Hikaru. What have I said about slamming open doors? It’s unbecoming of the future head of the Shirogane family.” Not that Hikaru had to abide by any rules as the future head. She was the golden child, spoiled, and whatever rebukes Hatsuko had for her ultimately flew right over her head as she believed none of them applied to her. 

“I’m sorry grandmother,” Hikaru said impatiently, not at all sorry. She plopped herself down in a cushion across from her grandmother, her layered skirts spread haphazardly in her haste. “But, grandmother! Do you even know what I heard from a servant just now? Something terrible!” 

The Shirogane head took one look at her angry granddaughter, closed her eyes, and counted to three with practiced precision before she opened them slowly. She exhaled. “And pray tell me, Hikaru, what exactly did you hear?” 

“That she's coming to my nuptial celebration! Is it true?” 

Hatsuko set her tea cup on the table and smoothed non-existent wrinkles out of her kimono before placing her hands on her lap. “Yes it is, Hikaru. Your cousin is coming to the celebration, which should not be surprising to you. She is family, after all. Why are you so concerned?” 

Hatsuko knew why, but politeness and niceties were sewn into every fiber of her being, in every word and every action, and this extended even to those she found unpleasant. And especially to family. 

“Because I don’t want her to come,” she whined, squirming in her seat. “Can you find some way for her not to come? Make up an excuse or something? She’s such an eyesore and an absolute disgrace to our family! Imagine what the others would say if they saw her at the celebration! They’d make fun of me, I just know it!” Flinging herself across her grandmother’s tears, Hikaru wept, fat, theatrical tears, wetting her grandmother’s expensive kimono in the process. “You have to do something about it or I fear I will never recover from the shame, please grandmother!” 

Hatsuko looked down at Hikaru and wondered how two people so close in age could be so different from each other. While you were humble and quiet, and lacked confidence and the inherited skills of the Shirogane family, Hikaru was arrogant and ostentatious, and confident, audacious even, in her cursed technique. 

“She’s already been invited.” Hatsuko’s tone was final with no room for argument, but nevertheless, she tried to placate Hikaru, smoothing her black tresses which were curled and pinned up in a western fashion that she didn’t entirely approve of, but Hikaru liked it so she let her do as she pleased. 

“Well just uninvite her or something,” Hikaru said petulantly against Hatsuko’s lap. 

“I cannot, for it would be improper and reflect badly upon our family if we did not invite her.” Hatsuko worded her words carefully, knowing that if nothing else, Hikaru valued her reputation, and as such might see reason with her response. 

Hikaru thought about it for a moment, brows knitted in deep thought, before she raised her head, frowning at her grandmother. “Fine.” She jutted her lower lips out. “But she has to be placed at the back, far away from the front of the table. Put her near all the lower-class families and branches. She’s already lucky enough to be invited so it shouldn’t be an issue for her.” 

“If that is what you wish,” Hatsuko accepted. “Then I will arrange it as such.” It pained her to have to treat you like that, to add another heaping dose of prejudice into your overflowing cup, but there was little she could truly do. 

Hikaru brightened immediately, already getting up and bounding towards the door upon completion of her task. “Thank you so much, grandmother! I knew you loved me more than her!” 

Something deep inside Hatsuko twisted, like barbed wire embedding itself into flesh, and she fought the rise of bile that threatened to spill forth with her lies. She cleared her throat and straightened herself. “Of course, dear. You are the pride and joy of the Shirogane family. There is nothing we wouldn’t do for you.”

“I know,” she said sweetly, bouncing up and towards the door since she got what she wanted. Now she just had to devise a plan to humiliate you. Your husband probably wouldn’t deign to come with you because there was no way he’d love you enough to do so, so it would be easy to torment you. 

A devious smile stretched across her beautiful face. “I’ll be going now! I can’t wait for the celebration!”

Hatsuko smiled thinly and watched her Hikaru leave, the giddy hum of the young woman an ominous sign of chaos to come. 

In the days leading up to Hikaru’s nuptial celebrations and your informal visit back to the family, you’d felt listless and nervous, busying yourself with every task under the sun, almost robbing Momoka of all her tasks. Worried that you’d exhaust yourself, Sukuna had pulled you aside the day before, locked you in your shared room, and had so thoroughly fucked you multiple times that you felt too boneless to do anything.

Sukuna had accomplished his mission. And you had felt relaxed…until the next day. 

“Do I look okay?” You fretted, mirror in hand as you meticulously smoothed your hair and every wrinkle you thought might be in your clothes. 

Sukuna kissed the crown of your head, breathing in a mixture of jasmine from your shampoo and his favorite musky scent unique to you. “Of course, wife, you look stunning as per usual.” 

“N-Not now,” you said nervously, stomach a coiled mess of knots and strings.“Or you’ll mess up my hair.” And much more than that. 

“Then later?” he asked, heavily. His eyes dripped with liquid crimson, a syrupy promise of sweet desire and fulfillment. 

You knew that look, found yourself craving it sometimes throughout the day (much to your distress), and pressed your thighs together at the sudden dull ache between your legs. “Yes, later,” you murmured. 

The carriage hit a rock, almost jolting you from your seat, but Sukuna steadied you by trapping your legs inside his. The confined space made you overly aware of just how close he was, so close that you could feel the heat from his thighs seep into your kimono. He stayed like that, pressed against your legs, until he was satisfied and released his hold, leaving you bereft of his warmth. 

Before you could dwell on the loss, he shifted over to make room for you on his side of the carriage, patting the space next time him in a silent command for you to come over. You started to get up, bending gingerly before he suddenly moved and tucked himself on your side of the carriage, almost squishing you with his massive frame. It would appear that one side of the carriage was just barely enough room for you and him. 

“I was going to come over.” You gaped at him. 

“But how could I let you do that? Especially with you wobbling all over the place? See.” He placed a hand on your thigh, squeezing the soft flesh lightly. “Even now, you’re shaking.”

You spluttered an excuse. “T-That’s because the carriage is moving! It’s not because of anything else!” 

“Of course, wife.” He flashed white teeth, canines glinting sharply, dangerously close yet you weren’t afraid. There was something alluring about it, you thought, unconsciously leaning closer before you were mere inches from his lips. 

A throaty chuckle broke you from your trance and you lurched backward, hoping he wouldn’t think too much about it. 

“Sorry–I…didn’t mean–” Embarrassment colored your tone.

“Fascinated by them, are you, love?”

“They’re pretty,” you admitted, voice low like it was a secret. “I don’t know why I never noticed them until now.”

“They’re not so prominent unless I get excited.”

“Excited?” You cocked your head a bit to the side, confused. But why would he be excited right now? 

“Aroused,” he amended with a sly smile. Sukuna kept his eyes trained on you, relishing the growing blush he could clearly see under the moonlight because of his enhanced senses. 

Oh.

Oh.

Now that you thought about it, between bouts of lovemaking you hazily remembered seeing flashes of sharp canines, and could faintly remember accidentally touching something sharp momentarily when kissing him sometimes. 

“If you keep looking at me like that, wife, I’ll want to devour you myself,” Sukuna drawled. 

He would’ve had time for a short romp before the party if you’d agreed to let him teleport the two of you, but you had insisted on a “proper carriage” for appearance's sake since you’d claimed that your family would look down on him if he showed up on foot without a carriage. Sukuna could care less of what they thought of him, that’s how he’d lived for the past hundreds of years, after all, but if you wanted something, he would be remiss to not oblige. 

“We’re almost there.” He opened the carriage’s window and inhaled deeply, wrinkling his nose at what he smelled. Indeed, the two of you were almost at the Shirogane residence. The stench of humans was growing stronger. 

When he looked back at you to find you fussing with your hair again, he said, “You look perfect, love. Don’t worry.” 

“Easier said than done,” you mumbled, but you ceased your motions, instead placing your hands in your lap and interlacing your fingers to tightly squeeze them to take off some of the stress you were feeling. 

When the carriage finally stopped before the entrance to your former home, a servant announced aloud that Ryomen-sama and his wife had arrived, a cue that it was time to leave. You moved on instinct, having to open doors for yourself for as long as you could remember, you thought that it’d be no different now that you were married. But Sukuna leaned over, his massive frame almost engulfing the moonlight from your vision, and held a hand over yours, stopping you from pushing open the door.

“Allow me.”

In an effortless motion, he pushed it open then opened the door from his side and held a hand out for you when he reached your side to help you out. You took his hand gingerly, familiar callused warmth keeping you warm despite the slight chill, and slowly stepped out. Your kimono had more layers than you were used to, hair ornaments were a bit heavy, and your sandals were slightly higher than usual, so you didn’t want to trip and make a fool of yourself. 

You appreciated the gesture. Loved him even more for it.

Even though you shouldn’t. 

“Thank you,” you said quietly as you held his hand. 

He nodded, a handsome smile gracing his face, and placed his free hand at the small of your back to help steady you as the two of you made your way into the main residence and waited in the main hall with the other guests. You waited for him to let go of you, to put some distance in between the two of you, but he didn’t even as more attendees filed into the room. 

Trying to get his attention, you tip-toed, accidentally pulling his sleeve when you lost your balance for a moment. 

“Oh–sorry,” you whispered nervously. 

“Nothing to be sorry about, love. I’d even kneel for you if you wanted me to.” He laughed, drawing the attention of a few people nearby. “That’s how much you’ve tamed me.”

Tame. The word felt foreign on your tongue, sticky seductive honey that held the implication of sweet domesticity and something more that lodged uncomfortably in your throat. A quiet knot of ownership. 

You swallowed hard, giving him an aggrieved look while hotness crept up your neck. 

Sukuna could tease you all day long, loved to see those cute expressions of yours, thought it was endearing how you squirmed and grew red under his gaze, but he knew there was only so much you could take before you combusted. “You are much too cute for your own good, little wife, but tell me. What is it that you wanted to say?”

“I–” You frowned, thinking of what you were going to say before the hand he had rested around your waist tightened infinitesimally, reminding you of your request. “I was going to ask when you were going to let go of me.”

“Never.” His response was immediate and razor-sharp as if to slice through any doubts.

“I see,” you murmured. But perhaps in the future. No one ever held on to you for very long, whether by choice or not. 

Noticing your slight change in mood, Sukuna asked, “Would you like something to eat? Or something to drink?” His voice was gentle, red eyes trained carefully on you while he scanned his peripheral for a servant, ready to flag one down to get something for you. If you were hungry or thirsty, he’d make sure you had something to eat and drink no matter when the actual banquet started. He didn’t run on other’s time, they ran on his. 

“N-No…I’m fine…Just stay here.” Besides, you weren’t sure if you’d even be able to keep anything down anyway and who knew when you’d see Hikaru. It’d be better to have someone you were comfortable with just in case. 

“Very well,” Sukuna acquiesced, but he was still careful and led you to an empty seat at the end of the table, eyes narrowing when he saw table cards with his and your name there. If he didn’t know any better, he’d make a fuss over having to sit in such a demeaning position for his rank, but he knew you wanted to be as far away as possible from your cousin so he stayed silent, fury boiling and covered just barely by your presence. 

As guests slowly filtered into the room, taking their respective seats at the large table, you watched the door with a wary gaze, trying to prepare yourself for your cousin. After what seemed like a millennia of holding your breath and remembering to exhale when you felt like you couldn’t breathe, you saw her. 

Hikaru wore a heavy-looking sakura pink kimono with chrysanthemums embroidered throughout and a matching floral ornament in her hair. Her glossy black hair was styled high on her head and her pale skin contrasted with the shiny red lacquer on her lips and nails. She was a vision of perfection, especially on the arms of Kamo Masaru, a talented cursed blood technique user and the heir to the Kamo family. 

Instinctually, you shifted away and averted your eyes, trying to hide behind Sukuna’s large frame in the hopes that she wouldn’t see you, but there was no mistaking her cold gaze, like icy daggers that were softened only by the warm, sturdy presence next to you.

If you were more confident in yourself, perhaps you would’ve stared back and made her think that you had nothing to be afraid of, but even as you were now, technically married up into a higher position than her, you knew that you stood no chance against her. 

Noticing the way you uneasily tensed, Sukuna leaned forward, imperceptibly, as if he was casually rearranging heavy limbs, and purposefully gave your cousin an aloof, cursory glance before passing over her as if he was viewing a speck of lint on his kimono. 

Hikaru, who was so used to fawning and words of flattery, could not help but scrunch her pretty face up at Sukuna’s dismissal before she realized the number of eyes that were on her and carefully schooled her features back to place with a serene smile. Anyone looking at her wouldn’t have noticed the minute change in her expression, but you were attuned to them. Had learned to read Hikaru’s emotions because your life depended on it. 

When Hikaru finally seated herself near the head of the table, primly folding herself into a perfect seiza position, she turned towards your direction and raised her voice to address your husband. Unbidden panic threatened to spill forth, and you fought to stifle it, smothering it best you could. You would not allow it to bring shame to Sukuna or ruin Hikaru’s celebration. 

Calm down, calm down, you repeatedly told yourself, ignoring the anxiety that seeped into every word you chanted while trying to keep your attention on the conversation at the same time. 

“I’m glad you could join us from so far away, Ryomen-sama,” Hikaru said pleasantly. “I trust that your journey here was not too arduous?” 

Sukuna nodded. “Fine,” he said curtly. 

Then she turned her attention to you, voice so saccharine that it made your bones ache, but not sweetly, as it should’ve felt when a family member welcomed you back home, but sickly, like when you eat too many sweets in one sitting. It made you feel nauseous. 

“And you, cousin, how are you doing? How is your married life?” 

Sukuna drew himself back a few inches so he wasn’t blocking your view. Now that Hikaru had so blatantly addressed you in front of everyone, Sukuna could no longer shield you anymore and you could not just ignore her. There was no way out except to respond. 

You took a steady breath in, steeling your emotions and willing your voice to not waver when you spoke or give anyone else more reason to think that Sukuna had gotten the short end of the stick in marrying you. Nothing could mask your plainness when compared to Hikaru and her stunning features. 

“I-I’m doing fine, thank you,” you replied, hating the way your voice pitched higher from your nerves. 

Hikaru frowned. “Just fine? Why cousin, it seems to me that Ryomen-sama treats you more than just fine.” 

You scrambled to respond when you realized that in your bubble of anxiety that you missed her second question. “Oh I meant—” 

“In fact,” she continued, completely ignoring you, “I feel that he treats you more than just fine.” 

She lowered her gaze to peruse your appearance, lips curling at the sight of your expensive garments and hairpins. You fought the urge to hide from her scrutiny. 

“Look at that stunning kimono you have on right now. It is nishijin-ori, is it not? I’ve heard that that fabric is extremely rare, usually reserved for royalty and the most expensive fabric in Japan, costing more than a year’s worth of wages for most commoners. And the fact that it was created by the Aoki family, the most famed tailors throughout the land yet you’re still unsatisfied…”

Hikaru huffed, disapproval etched into her face. “That isn’t very becoming of someone from the Shirogane family. What would others say if they knew such a greedy, materialistic person came from our esteemed family? It would tarnish our good name! Why must you act like this, cousin?”

You looked around frantically as people began to murmur and nod in agreement, accepting her words like they were the law despite the fact that she was very, very wrong. Panic settled coldly in your bones, freezing any confidence you thought you had.  

You were more than grateful that Sukuna had even bothered to buy you new clothes — especially tailored pieces that weren’t premade — and you knew that the Aokis were famous for their clothes, but that was it. Unaware of the fact that he had Aoki-kun make your kimono out of nishijin-ori, you’d simply viewed the kimono as a pretty, treasured gift — certainly not one that was predominantly reserved for royalty. Had you known, you would’ve never let him do that or wear the kimono to the banquet. 

“I…I didn’t–it’s not like that–” You were losing already, and you’d hardly even said anything. The whispers and stares continued to grow the longer the silence dragged on, until the weight of it all began to push against your chest and squeeze the air out of your lungs, forcing you to draw in short, shallow breaths. 

You heard a quiet crack next to you, drawing your attention to your husband. His jaw was clenched tightly, and his hands gripped the edge of the table with such fury that you swore he would’ve broken the wood in half had you not tugged on his sleeve. Twisting sharply, you were met with blazing, infernal eyes that cooled instantly upon seeing your distress. 

“Love,” he murmured, ignoring the stares of your family. “Do you want to leave?” 

It hurt, the familiar pressure clawing at your throat, the burdensome stares of your family, the helplessness you felt. You weren’t sure what would be worse: suffering the shame of leaving with your tail tucked between your legs or staying and being unable to respond to Hikaru’s humiliating jabs. No matter what you chose, you’d lose. You always lost against her. It was inevitable. 

When you didn’t answer, Sukuna whipped to face Hikaru with fiery eyes and sharp teeth bared at her, barely able to contain the growl in his voice. “Let’s get one thing straight, Hikaru. It was my decision to buy the clothes despite the fact that she didn’t want them. And I wanted her to wear them because as my wife, she should have garments befitting her station, should she not?” 

“Or did you expect her to wear something cheap like the kimono she wore when she arrived at my shrine? Or servant’s garbs like the ones she wore before I had Aoki-kun tailor new garments for her? Or wait, don’t tell me–” His tone turned savage, pretty lips curled up in disgust. “The Shirogane family is so poor that they cannot outfit my wife in proper garments. No wonder.” 

A collective gasp of horror sucked the air from the room, leaving you feeling light, almost heady from the twist of pleasure you got. There was finally someone to put your family back in place and even if it wasn’t yourself, you welcomed it nonetheless. Your turn would come, but for now it was more than enough that Sukuna would help you despite having no obligation to do so. You were forever grateful to him. 

“Ryomen-sama you dare—”

“Hikaru.” A sharp command sliced through your cousin’s words, demanding acquiescence, and you looked towards the source of that voice, knowing that there was only one person who Hikaru had to obey.

Your grandmother.

She’d aged since you’d last seen her, new lines in her forehead and grooves that burdened her silver eyes, and you wondered if there was some issue that she had to deal with while you were gone or if she was truly beginning to grow old.

Growing up, you always thought of her as some sort of invincible, never-aging, powerful being — she certainly seemed that way especially when your parents were alive — but now you weren’t so sure. With Hikaru getting married to the Kamo heir, it became increasingly clear that she was getting old, tired even, and was ready to step down from her place and let Hikaru lead. 

Your grandmother retiring was a good thing, but you couldn’t help the aching pang of knowing your cousin would inherit the title that was supposed to be yours. But perhaps it would be better anyway, you thought, you had nothing to offer to your family, and Hikaru could be a nasty person to you, but she never did anything to truly endanger your father’s family. 

You continued to stare intently at your grandmother as she gave Hikaru a firm glance before turning to address your husband.

“Ryomen-sama.” Her voice was soft, but there was no mistaking the authority behind it. “On behalf of my unruly granddaughter, I apologize for her insolence and rude behavior towards you. I hope you will be willing to overlook her mistakes on behalf of the Shirogane family.” Your grandmother bowed low, the lowest you’d ever seen her bow, before sitting at the head of the table.

Sukuna did not want to forgive her at all, but you’d want him to so he flicked his eyes briefly at your grandmother before turning his attention back to you. “Only because my wife wants to forgive.” I do not. 

Decades of diplomacy and leading a family as prominent as the Shirogane had honed Hatsuoko’s skills, and she took that as a sign to move on to a different conversation. Her tone grew gentle. “My dear granddaughter. I am very happy to have you back home and see you doing so well. I trust that the journey here was not too difficult? I know that Ryomen-sama’s shrine is a bit far from here.”

You fought to keep the smile out of your voice since propriety was necessary in public. “Thank you grandmother, I’m happy to see you as well. Everything went smoothly, nothing to worry about.

Thin lips turned up slightly at the edges, a ghost of a smile.

“That is good,” she said warmly before her voice grew again, a mask of diplomacy sliding over her with practiced precision. “I humbly welcome everyone to the Shirogane family residence. Today we celebrate the upcoming nuptials of my granddaughter and Shirogane heir, Shirogane Hikaru, and the Kamo family’s heir, Kamo Masaru. It is a joyous occasion, and I thank you all for coming.”

While she spoke, servants appeared behind each guest like soundless ghosts, setting fresh, steaming trays of food accompanied by shots of sake before each guest before disappearing just as fast as they’d appeared. 

“Let us toast. Then we will enjoy a bountiful meal.” She raised her glass and waited for everyone else to do the same. 

You eyed the sake cup with weary desperation. You’d tasted it once when your father died (you were too young to drink it when your mother died, otherwise you’d have tasted it twice), and had swallowed the liquid bitterness despite the fact that you hated how it pooled in your stomach, warm and unyielding and a harsh reminder of what you lost. Now every time you thought of sake or alcohol in general, you thought of your parents’ death. 

Sensing your hesitation from the way your hands shook when holding the cup, Sukuna took the drink from you before you could protest. A small smirk graced his features, as if he’d meant to do it all along. When your grandmother raised her glass up for a toast, he did the same for your glass and his, before finishing the alcohol in a single breath. 

“Sukuna! You didn’t have to drink it for me!” you whispered furtively. “I don’t want you getting drunk in my stead.” 

Two shots of sake were akin to a drop in the ocean to a creature like him who’d downed entire cellars of sake in one sitting before, but you didn’t know that, which made your concern all the more endearing to him. “Hmm,” he hummed, as the two of you clapped your hands together along with the others, muttering a quick itadakimasu, before eating. “Can’t have a drunk little wife on my hands, can I? I have to protect you.” 

You hadn’t had a single drop of alcohol the entire night, but the way your face warmed made it feel as if you’d drunk a whole bottle by yourself. “That much alcohol isn’t enough to make me drunk…” 

“Not enough to make you drunk,” he agreed, picking at the meat in front of him while wishing he could eat your cooking instead. Or even better, you.

He didn’t even need to eat, did it mostly to indulge you and because he liked your cooking, but he’d always take you over any mortal food. The thought of you squirming above him, slick cunt dripping juice into his mouth almost made him want to drag you from your seat, toss you over his shoulder, and find a closet to feast on you. 

But he didn’t. 

Sukuna was learning to be tamer around you. 

“But look,” he murmured, bringing his thumb to your face to wipe a grain of rice stuck to the corner of your lip. “It would probably be enough alcohol to make your pretty face pink like it is right now. And I don’t want anyone else to see you like this.” 

You nearly dropped your chopsticks but held on to them for fear of ridicule from your family. “O-Oh…um, Sukuna. That–that’s—” He’d said flirtier, dirtier, things to you before, but they were all in private. Now you were in public, in front of your family, and you didn’t know how to act. 

“Eat, my love.” Sukuna fished his chirimenjako from his tray, the action reminding you of how your father used to do that for you, and set it in your rice bowl. “I know you like these fish things. Eat mine.”

“Thank you,” you mumbled, grateful to have something else to focus on. Concentrating intently on your tray, you ate your dinner, keeping yourself as composed as possible despite Hikaru’s cold glare that shot through Sukuna’s imposing body. The fact that this was your first time eating with your family in years was not lost on you. And especially not lost on Hikaru. 

Time passed quickly, and soon everyone had begun to wander out of the dining room and into other spaces. Needing to use the restroom, you excused yourself after telling Sukuna where you were going. He grabbed your arm, asking if you needed him to come with you, but you told him with a smile that he couldn’t regardless of what you wanted because you were using the ladies' room. Sukuna pouted, but you promised that you’d be back as soon as you could, and it was only after a reluctant kiss that he finally let you go. 

You finished your business quickly, wanting to get back to Sukuna as soon as you could and go home before you realized that you still hadn’t given your grandmother the gift that you’d brought her. Hoping that she’d be in her room, you hurried through the corridors, slipping past drunken guests, and made your way to the front of her room. 

“Grandmother?” you whispered. “Are you there?”

You waited a few seconds for a response before you asked again. “Grandmother? Are you—”

“What are you doing?” 

You jumped, nearly dropping the gift in your hand, before shoving it hastily into your sleeve and turning on your toes, dread coursing through your veins. 

“Hikaru…I’m sorry–Nothing, I wasn’t doing anything. I’ll just leave. Thank you for your invite.” You quickly bowed once before leaving, and walked as fast as you could in your kimono, cursing the damn contraption for slowing you down — it was pretty, yes, but incredibly difficult to move, and move quickly in it. 

A sigh of relief broke out from you when you made it to one of the gardens in the residence, but your celebration was cut short when you felt liquid metal, a stinging cold against your wrist, squeeze hard, forcing you to turn and face your attacker. 

“I know what you’re thinking,” Hikaru sneered, letting the silver liquid slither up your arms so that it coiled around your neck like a pretty, poisonous snake, ready to strike at any time. 

“You think that just because you’re married to Ryomen-sama,” she sneered his name, “that means you’re suddenly better than you are. That you’re not trash. But don’t lie to yourself. You won’t be married to him forever. He could easily find someone much better than you, replace you, and leave you with nothing and no one would think otherwise.”

You were acutely aware of the fact that if Sukuna wanted to, he could abandon you at any moment, but at the same time, you held a wild, desperate hope that perhaps he liked you just enough — even if just the bare minimum — to let you stay with him. Even tolerance would be enough for you. All you could hope for. 

“So don’t forget your place. Don’t forget who you are. Someone useless, someone unlovable. A member of the Shirogane family, even if you’re a failure. So remember that I control you!” she spat, wringing the mercury tighter against your skin as if to emphasize her claims. You were sure that there’d be bruising now, bruising that’d be hard to explain to Sukuna. 

You wanted to scream at her. To take her by the shoulders and shake her until the cold hard truth – that no one had ever treated you like a member of the Shirogane family – was beaten into her. But you knew you couldn’t because saying those things would be akin to social suicide for Sukuna, so you tried for softer words while clawing feebly at the liquid death that encircled your neck. 

“H-Hikaru…listen–I…people might hear us and the latter half of the celebration will start soon, so let’s talk about this later.” 

But Hikaru would not be so easily coaxed into agreement. “Later? You want to talk about this later?!” 

Her shrill voice rang so loudly that you winced and looked worriedly at your surroundings, hoping that no one heard, especially not Sukuna. “Later?! You want to talk about this later?” 

You winced at her shrill voice and looked worriedly around you, hoping that no one had heard when a sudden sting of pain jolted your attention back to Hikaru. She’d used her mercury to whip you, hard, the impact of it was so strong and caught you so off guard that it knocked you back a few steps, making you lose your balance and trip into a stone bench. The rock dug into the back of your thighs, bruising hard, and you reached up to soothe the sting on your face only to draw back in half-panic and half-surprise at the wet warmth you felt on your fingertips. 

You had grown comfortable with Sukuna’s gentle ways. Too comfortable.

You could feel the tears well up in your eyes, fat drops that threatened to spill forth and betray what little strength you had, but you squeezed your eyes shut and forced yourself to focus on the pain and the blood. You wouldn’t let your tears betray how you really felt. 

And then there was the matter of Sukuna. You didn’t want your husband to see you like this — for him to see you in such a pitiful state, somehow who couldn’t even protect yourself. Someone at the mercy of another, having to pitifully beg for even a scrap of Hikaru’s leniency. If he saw you now, he’d think you were disgusting and worthless, and he’d realize that you simply weren’t worth it.

You knew it, had expected it to happen since he was bound to find out about your past, but you were hoping you’d have a little more time to prepare him. A little more time to prepare yourself. Some nice memories to tide over the ache you’d feel when you would eventually be discarded.

But there was never enough time. If you learned anything in life, it was that time was servant to none and master to all. It didn’t care that your mother was young, in her primes, or that you were too young to lose your father. Time took them anyway. So what else were you to do besides submit?

Crumpled and defeated, not even caring that your pretty new kimono was dirtied and ripped in multiple places, you kneeled. You kneeled before this angry goddess, taking in every insult hurled at you while your body slowly caved in from the pain your liquid metal jailer wrought on you.  

“Know your place, whore,” Hikaru seethed. She grabbed a fistful of your hair, hair that was just starting to grow healthily, and yanked it sharply to force you to look at her. You bit your tongue hard to stop the cry of pain that’d come out, tasting bitter, metallic blood. “You’re just a slave—”

“My wife.” 

A two-worded revelation from your savage god. Pure relief flooded through you, barely enough to smother the intense shame and disgust you felt from yourself. 

Sukuna was here, but you couldn’t be sure if it was a good thing or not. 

Hikaru spun on her heels to face the intruder, anger etched into every fiber of her being, but when she saw who it was, her demeanor changed instantaneously, molding her expression and posture into picturesque gentility. 

“Ryomen—”

But Sukuna ignored her and made a beeline for you, kneeling on the hard floor before reaching his hand out for you to take. You slipped your shaking hands into his while keeping your gaze lowered, not daring to see what expression he had on his face right now. Surely he would be irate and berate you for ruining an expensive kimono or criticize your lack of decorum and sneer at your weakness. 

Sukuna, however, addressed your cousin first. “What were you doing to my wife?”  His voice sounded unaffected, but his calmness belied an undercurrent of violence just barely contained. He didn’t want to scare you off. 

“What do you mean?” Hikaru asked dumbly, batting her eyelashes at him. “As the future head of the Shirogane family, it is my duty to discipline members of the family when they’re misbehaving.”

You could feel his grip tighten imperceptibly on your waist. 

“Your family?” he scoffed. “She is my wife and thus bears the surname Ryomen, making her no longer a part of the Shirogane family. Instead, she is now under my protection and care and if anyone is to discipline her, to teach her the error of her ways, it will be me, and not some outsider.” 

Hikaru’s expression darkened, as if she couldn’t believe that there would be someone so bold as to question her authority not once, but twice. Her original plan of getting on Sukuna’s good side changed because he’d insulted her pride and status. She would not let his comment go. “You have no idea what you’re talking about and who you’re talking to.”

Sukuna arched a fine eyebrow. “Oh do I?”

“Yes,” she insisted. “Last time we met, you only knew me as her cousin,” she spat the word out as if it was poison. "But what you don’t know is that I am the heir of the prized mercury cursed technique of the Shirogane family and the future head of the family.” 

Sukuna was beginning to see everything very clearly now — what and how you suffered in the past. It didn’t matter that your grandmother was the head of the family and kind to you if she turned a blind eye to Hikaru’s cruel behavior towards you merely because she had inherited the Shirogane family’s dying cursed technique. And if the family head showed such ignorance, then clearly the rest of the clan, whether they scorned you because they saw your grandmother as a role model, or because they themselves didn’t want to get shunned for siding with you, would not have helped the situation. 

You must’ve been so lonely.

And if your loneliness was anything like his, it was not just simply loneliness, but a demon that consumed you. 

The first few hundred years after he became a cursed spirit, he suffered daily from this loneliness, seeking a feeling, something exhilarating, overwhelming, powerful enough to get rid of the loneliness that ate at him from the inside out. It threatened to consume him whole, leave nothing behind, and every day he fought against it. He murdered, tortured, and plundered his way through his new life before he finally decided that he was tired of it all. That he wanted to settle down in one place. 

Life was peaceful at the shrine, a calm respite from the noise of the world, and he enjoyed his few servants. His days passed without any trouble except for when he received a sacrificial bride (they were often distraught and it’d take them many weeks or months to calm down). But loneliness chipped away at him, like water against stone, and each passing year further solidified his belief that he’d never find an end to his loneliness. 

Until you came along. 

Sukuna didn’t care that the Shiroganes were powerful cursed technique users – there had been no one in centuries who even came close to rivaling his power, so he was not going to simply sit by and watch as some impudent spoiled human brat hurt you. 

“And what of it?” Sukuna replied coolly. “What of the Shirogane family?”

Hikaru’s face contorted in anger, beautiful features turning ugly. “Why you—”

“Do you know who you’re talking to?” he thundered, eyes glowing red. “To go against her is to go against me. And to go against me is to go against god.” 

Not a single sound could be heard from Hikaru despite the fact that Sukuna had interrupted her. 

“It would appear to me, weak human, that your family has not educated you about your history nor the identity of their superior. For I am their god, whether they acknowledge it or not, which means that not only am I owed respect from your family but that my wife is also owed the same respect. I do not care if you are more powerful,” he said the words mockingly, “than my wife, because I can assure you, you are most certainly not better than her, and are in fact worth nothing compared to her. In my eyes, she is worth much, much more, than your paltry cursed technique.” 

Stunned silent, Hikaru looked at Sukuna, silver eyes glinting with pain. Yet indignation reigned and she couldn’t help challenging him. “If you think the Shirogane family’s cursed technique is so weak, then you won’t turn me down in a friendly match, will you?” 

“Very well.”

A friendly match?

No, you couldn’t let the two of them do that. You’d seen the destruction that Hikaru had wreaked before and had watched with silent horror servants writhing in agony through half-opened windows and doors left ajar. Cruel handiwork on shattered masterpieces you had to patch up every time she was finished with them. And sometimes you’d catch a glimpse of her sparring with her instructor (the same one you had many years ago), and be half-terrified, half-awed by the sheer power she had. Power you should’ve had but didn’t. 

Sukuna was formidable, no doubt, but you couldn’t risk him getting hurt on your behalf. 

“No!” The two of them spun to look at you, and you fought the urge to shirk at icy silver eyes that had traumatized you and molten red ones that you’d grown to love so much. 

“I-Please don’t fight. I don’t want you…two to get hurt…” At first, you thought only of your husband, until you realized that Hikaru getting hurt would surely spell doom for Sukuna. The Shirogane family would want someone to answer for her injuries and heavens forbid her death, if it happened, and you would be the perfect scapegoat for it. They’d spin a tale of how you, the eldest cousin, was jealous of Hikaru and had devised a plan for Sukuna to get rid of her for you so you could seize her position. 

Never mind that you wanted and cared nothing for that, but your family would use you as a scapegoat and Sukuna would get caught in the crossfire simply by association with you. But Sukuna only looked at you with a devastating smirk, one that made you hope and despair at the same time. He was going to fight her, regardless of what you said. It made sense, you thought wanely. Why would he ever listen to someone as weak and useless as yourself? 

“I will be but a moment, love,” he said nonchalantly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before setting you gently on the bench. 

Hikaru manipulated several streams of mercury into the air, ready to attack Sukuna as soon as he turned around, and when you saw it, your legs were moving before you realized it, running to do something, anything, to shield him from the mercury – you had a firsthand experience of how acutely they hurt – but then you were in his warm embrace, face pressed against his chest and breathing in his scent when you heard someone howl in pain. 

When you finally dared to open your eyes, you found Hikaru crumpled on the ground in pain, hurt in the same places you were while Sukuna hadn’t taken a single step from where he was. 

“R-Ryomen-sama! How dare you do this to me!” Hikaru stood shakily, trying to come to terms that someone had just hurt her and summoned more mercury, ready to shoot those streams at Sukuna when—

“Enough.”  Your grandmother’s voice held no room for argument, and Hikaru obeyed, immediately getting rid of her mercury. 

Sukuna looked at Hikaru with such heavy distaste that you could almost feel the sting yourself.

“I didn’t realize that the Shirogane family had fallen so low,” he remarked with disdain, “become so uneducated, and so uncouth so as to not recognize their god, the King of Curses. Do something about it. I don’t want my wife’s family to be known as weak, ignorant people, nor do I want to be disappointed again by them.” Sukuna effortlessly lifted you from where you sat before you could mutter a protest. “We’ll be leaving now, Shirogane-sama.” 

You craned your neck up to look at your husband before turning to your grandmother who was helping Hikaru up. “We’re leaving?” you murmured nervously. “Just like that?” 

“Of course.” He arched an eyebrow at you, confused, as if you were the crazy one. “There’s no need for us to be here anymore, and I want to tend to your wounds as soon as possible, so I’ll teleport us back,” he said simply. 

“O-Okay…” 

You held on to him tightly, perhaps tighter than needed, and a few moments later you were back at the shrine. The calm, familiar environment enveloped you, and you sighed deeply, glad you had some place to return and find solace because the Shirogane residence was certainly anything but peaceful. 

As Sukuna carried you to your rooms, asking Momoka for a first aid kit on the way there, you wondered how you were going to approach him tomorrow morning. It was a given that he’d surely have questions for you — remarks, at the very least — about what happened, but you weren’t sure if you were ready to open up to him yet. 

But perhaps he wouldn’t even care to listen to you. He could just be acting courteous to you, bidding his time before he divorced you and ran you out of the shrine. It sickened you, bile rising unbidden, at the thought of him abandoning you, and you vehemently fought to keep it down while clinging harder to Sukuna and burying your nose into the crook of your neck, focusing on his calming scent.

If only this moment would last forever. If only you could live in this illusion for the rest of your life. If only he would love you unconditionally; want nothing in return. 

Wonderful yet impossible. 

Nishijin-ori (西陣織, lit. 'Nishijin fabric'): is a traditional textile produced in the Nishijin (西陣) district of Kamigyō-ku in Kyoto, Japan. Originating in Heian-kyōto over 1,200 years ago, the weaving is known for its highly-decorative and finely-woven designs, created through the use of tedious and specialized production processes. It is well-regarded for the high quality and craftsmanship of the resulting fabrics, commonly used for high-quality obi and kimono. Taken from Wikipedia.

if you like what i write [tip jar / comms open]

#sukuna x y/n #sukuna x you #sukuna x reader #sukuna smut #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #sukuna fanfic #sukuna ryomen #ryomen sukuna #jjk fanfic #the shrine master's bride #hua!writes

[onelonelystory]

I know a bunch of people are making way more helpful beginner’s guides to tumblr but for anyone who may be making the leap during the Reddit exodus here’s my two cents:

try following friends first. get the hang of how reblogging functions and of all the posting features. if you use desktop add an xkit extension and use their quick reblog. change your header and profile and title from the default. consider not using an unstylized picture of yourself as a profile; anonymity is valued here (though of course, coming from reddit, I’m sure you understand.)

curate your own dash. follow people who post about things you’re interested in, follow friends, follow friends of friends, unfollow anyone at any time if you notice that their posts are not for you. don’t feel obligated to follow certain people just to participate in certain corners of the internet. if they really have so much good shit to say, it’ll probably make its way over to you eventually. the trending and for you pages are kind of useless and serve best as an occasional peek into a funhouse mirror version of the internet you thought you knew.

don’t overuse the add-to-reblog comment feature. if there’s additional commentary you want to share with your audience, that’s what tags are for! it shows up in the poster and previous reblogger’s notifications just the same. somewhere down the line someone might see your tags and decide to append them to the main post. we affectionately refer to this process as “peer review,” because once something has been added to a reblog any further iterations of the post will include that addition so it’s really just a way of saying said commentary adds to the post in a way that is not exclusive to your own audience.

that said if you do feel you have additional context or a necessary perspective to add to a post and you deliberately want to attach it, don’t be afraid to say your piece. people can reblog it or ignore it if they like, that’s their business.

if you disagree with the contents of a post, try not to do a discourse about it. If it seems like well-intended misinformation, you can add a correction with a source, or whatever additional context you feel is necessary for anyone who may not know better. any questions about what the post really means or follow-up is maybe best directed towards op’s ask box, as the narrative of reblog threads can get lost in the notifs tab. don’t be argumentative, don’t make assumptions; this is the internet. nobody on here gets an editor to make sure their words are framed exactly as they intended. if you really feel like being negative take a screenshot of the offending section, redact op’s url and any tagged or visible accounts, and make your own post. we all want to just tear into something from time to time and disagreements are a part of life. but try to avoid unnecessary conflict, it’s neither fun nor productive for any party.

if you see someone being a bigot block them. don’t dunk on them, don’t send them anon hate, don’t argue against them in the reblogs. there’s no algorithm on this site and nothing spreads without people spreading it. the best way to stop vitriol is to disengage.

block anyone. block people for being hateful bigots, block people for being annoying. block people for trying to start discourse on your posts even if you feel bad about it. if you start thinking to yourself wow, my life would be just a little bit better if this person couldn’t see my posts and I couldn’t see theirs, block them. block me for being preachy. block your best friend of six years bc they’re spamming your dash with their untagged spongebob liveblog and then dunk on them in your 20 person discord server.

treasure your mutuals but don’t feel like you have to be following people to be friends. tumblr dms are busted as hell just send someone an ask instead unless it’s that private. the search function does not work. polls are new and we’re all still constructing the etiquette of those together, but so far they’re mostly a vehicle for pitting characters against each other chunin exams style. ignore any part of this post that you don’t want to listen to I am legitimately not the boss of you. make your own truth go crazy drink water have fun.

#long post #196

[piracytheorist]

And I was actually happy for today. Like, I was a little prepared for Damian's shit but I wasn't prepared to see that and be reminded of how I was made to be the bad guy for calling Damian a bully.

Honestly that kind of behaviour from the fandom is probably the second main reason I avoid looking into other people's blogs (and why I have the dami/anya tag blocked) right after avoiding manga spoilers. If I'm to look through someone's blog for funny and relatable sxf stuff and then stumble upon someone talking about how sweet and cute and completely blameless Damian is... yeah nope bye.

I know, I know, not everyone is like this. I'm not putting the blame on all of his fans. Though that's not easy to say when I know there's a post out there talking about how Damian never bullied Anya - like, iirc, that was the actual title or something - and it has over 600 notes. And along with this thing and being talked to like I'm the wrong one, I cannot really feel comfortable among this fandom in general. Like okay love whatever blorbo you like and ship whatever you wanna ship, that's not what I'm judging here.

But if I'm to risk being told I'm making people uncomfortable just because I use the word "bully" for a fictional character who actually exhibits bully behaviour... yeah I just need that stance really fucking away from me.

#nette speaks #personal

[exhausted-archivist]

Cookbook Sample Preview...

I'm perfectly normal about this, totally calm. But I noticed on Sunday that the Dragon Age official cookbook had a preview/sample that it didn't have last time I checked. To summarize, it shows the Table of Contents and 7 new preview recipes along with 2 from an earlier sample release. It's basically previews the whole first section "Starters and Refreshments".

I will be putting things under cuts in case people don't wanna see things. From now on and after its release, the tag I will be using for the cookbook if you want to block is #tastes of thedas or #da: tot

I will also be silently combusting inside as I try not to let the excitement amp me up too much. I expect to fail this mission lol. (Spoiler I did fail and have been making my excitement everyone's problem.)

So, the cookbook sample. Amazon had a scrolling preview that wasn't as nice as the spreads so I made them into spreads like we got with the previous six recipes. You can see them here in this post.

But the following is the full spread of the sample from the cookbook. It gives us the cover, the two title pages, the table of contents, an introduction of a new character/narrator, the table of contents for the Starters and Refreshers section, and the 9 recipes within that section.

Beneath the images, I have transcribed the lore blurbs of the recipe as well as give an image description, but I didn't type out the recipes. That's for a later post (Also because it doesn't fit on this post. I hit the limit, sorry.) For a similar reason, I'm not adding my commentary to any of the recipes.

Contents

Introduction - 7

Starters & Refreshments

Eggs à la Val Foret - 11 Nevarran Blood Orange Salad - 13 Fried Young Giant Spider - 15 Stuffed Deep Mushrooms - 17 Rivaini Couscous Salad - 19 Crab Cakes from Kirkwall - 21 Fluffy Mackerel Pudding - 23 Snail & Watercress Salad - 25 Cave Beetles - 27

For the Road

Spiced Jerky - 31 Grey Warden Pastry Pockets - 33 Pickled Eggs - 35 Unidentified Meat - 37 Seheron Fish Pockets - 39 Crow Feed - 43 Black Lichen Bread - 45 Hearth Cakes - 47 Peasant Bread - 49

Soups & Stews

Merril's Blood Soup - 53 Fereldan Potato and Leek Soup - 55 The Hanged Man's Mystery Meat Stew - 57 Fish Chowder - 59 Sweet and Sour Cabbage Soup - 61 Lentil Soup - 63 Nettle Soup - 65 King Alistair's Lamb and Pea Soup - 67

Main Courses

Stuffed Cabbage - 71 Antivan Gnochi - 73 Antivan Paella - 75 Grilled Poussin - 77 Gurgut Roast with Lowlander Spices and Mushroom Sauce - 79 Nug Pancakes - 81 Fish in Salt Crust - 83 Roasted Wyvern - 85 Nug Bacon and Egg Pie - 87 Starkhaven Fish and Egg Pie - 89 Cacio e Pepe - 91 Turnip and Mutton Pie - 93 Smoked Ham from the Anderfels - 95 Roasted Turkey with Sides - 97

Sides

Sera's Yummy Corn - 103 Stuffed Vine Leaves - 105 Honey Carrots - 107 Nevarran Flat Bread and Yogurt Dip - 109

Sweet Delights

Blancmange - 113 Poison Stings - 115 Dalish Forest Fruit Cobbler - 117 Dwarven Plum Jam - 119 Sour Cherries in Cream - 121 Treviso Energy Balls - 123 Rice Pudding - 125 Goat Custard - 127

Baked Goods

Antivan Apple Grenade - 131 Found Cake - 133 Varric's Favorite Cinnamon Rolls - 135 Croissants - 137 Cherry Cupcakes - 139 Chocolate Cake - 141 Varric's Favorite Pastries - 143 Sugar Cake - 145 Lamprey Cake - 147 Tevinter Pumpkin Bread - 151

Drinks & Potions

Lichen Ale - 155 The Hissing Drake - 157 Hot Chocolate - 159 Antivan Sip-Sip - 161 Dragon Piss - 163 Rivaini Tea Blend - 165 The Golden Nug - 167 The Emerald Valley - 169 Chasind Sack Mead - 171

Conversion Charts - 173 About the Authors and Photographers - 174

Introduction

Dear Mum,

It's me, Devon! I'm all grown up now-- or, well, more grown up than before. You always said I was too much like a child for my own good, and given the number of times you caught me daydreaming about going off on some grand adventure instead of sweeping the floors, I will grudgingly admit that you probably - probably - had a point. But guess what? I finally went on an adventure! A big one! Just like the Hero of Ferelden!

Okay, well, maybe not exactly like the Hero of Ferelden. But I did travel across Thedas! From Ferelden to Orlais, to Rivain, and even Tevinter. Plus, everything in between. It was a long journey, Mum. Weeks and weeks on the road, with the occasional bandit or beast. You'd probably have hated it, but, by Andraste, I loved every second of it! The sights! The sounds! The food.

Oh yes, the food. The reason why I set out on this journey to begin with. I know that I wasn't particularly adept in the kitchen the last time we saw each other. And, yes, I do remember that I nearly set Castle Cousland aflame with my first attempt at a stew. But I am pleased to inform you that I have been practicing extensively, and I think that, if the position still existed, I could take up your mantle as the Cousland family's cook. Granted, I doubt I would be able to fill your shoes completely; no one could manage such an impossible task. But I like to tell myself that I still would be able to make you proud.

And that takes me back to this journey and the all-important question of why. Why did I spend the last year traveling from one end of Thedas to the other, sampling whatever local cuisine I could get my hands on, even dishes that were downright strange? You're probably thinking that it's because the Hero of Ferelden ate it at some point - yes, that's certainly part of it, though I'll have you know that I tracked down foods enjoyed by the Champion of Kirkwall and the Inquisitor as well! Not to mention all their companions. But the truth is, Mum, throughout all of this, you were right there with them at the forefront of my mind. Because when I thought of ways to honor you, I kept coming back to the most important lesson you taught me: Love through food.

Every time I left your kitchen with a warm, full belly, I felt your love for me. And though I can't do the same for you anymore, I can fill this book. I can stuff it full of different recipes, dishes you've probably never even heard of, and think of you with each new entry. Because, you see, Mum, underneath all that childlike excitement, the dreams of adventure and heroism, I'm still very much your child. And I always will be.

Thank you for everything, Mum. I can't wait to share this book and the lessons that inspired it with the rest of the world.

Love, Devon

Starters & Refreshments

Eggs à la Val Foret

Image Description: A pancake with ham and a sliced poached egg with paprika and herbs on top sit on a silver platter.

Recipe Blurb: Ah, yes. Tons of cream! Exactly what I've come to expect from Orlesian cuisine. Do I have any tips for creating the perfect poached egg? Well, ever since I heard that Solas's bald head was once likened to an egg, I simply try to make my eggs just as round and shiny! So far, it's worked wonderfully and never ceases to put a smile on my face.

Nevarran Blood Orange Salad

Image Description: A wooden bowl rests on a rock, it holds a colourful salad with blood orange slices resting on top.

Recipe Blurb: Although I knew that Divine Victoria left behind a life of wealth and privilege to join the Seekers of Truth, it wasn't until I was in Nevarra, seeing exactly what she'd given up, that I truly gained an appreciation for the path she'd chosen. The best way to describe my first glimpse of the gardens of Nevarra is that it was like seeing a painting come to life. For a long moment, I could only stand there, so dazzled by the richness and vibrancy of it all that I was half-convinced I was actually still napping in the carriage. Surely, there was no way such beauty could be found outside of a dream. And yet the beauty before me was very much real.

So, too, was the picturesque tableau that arrived later that day on a plate: perfectly cut slices of blood orange artfully arranged on a lush pillow of bitter greens. Was this a meal or a still life, I wondered. In truth, the answer was both. For Nevarrans, food is as much a feast for the eyes as for the mouth. But even if your arrangement isn't quite worthy of being displayed in a museum, this salad will sing a symphony on your tastebuds.

Fried Young Giant Spiders

Image Description: A metal bowl filled with salad greens and fried crab legs arranged on top. Plate sits on a wooden table with a metal item and a smoking pot in the background.

Recipe Blurb: Just as people on the surface raise cows and goats, the dwarves underground raise spiders. Yes, to eat. The legs are fried and served with a sauce, which, true to dwarven fashion, is made with some type of alcohol. The precise kind depends on the establishment where you're eating your spider legs. Unfortunately, I couldn't get an exact recipe from any of the chefs I spoke to. These sauces are apparently closely guarded secrets and have spurred many a nefarious plot to acquire them-the competiontion to be crowned Orzammar's Best Sauce is fierce. But I've been assured that lichen ale is generally not used.

I've therefore come up with my own recipe, based on the many varieties I sampled while in Orzammar. Given that sourcing the requisite spider legs above ground is not nearly so easy, and the demand for such exports is minimal, I've subsituted them with crab legs. It's not a perfect match, but it's close enough to satisfy me.

Stuffed Deep Mushrooms

Image Description: Three mushroom caps fulled with a green, cheesy blend topped with chives. Placed on a platter that looks like a cut of wood, red capped mushrooms with white spots in the right hand corner in the foreground.

Recipe Blurb: Though the mushrooms growing underground in caves and in many parts of the Deep Roads are all called "deep mushrooms," there is no singular variety. In fact, there are several! Some mushrooms are squat, with broad, flat caps, while others are long and spindly, reaching toward the sky like an old man's gnarled fingers. They also have a multitude of applications, used in the creation of everything from restorative potions to deadly poisons. But in Orzammar, mushrooms are farmed for eating!

I was able to sample some of these dwarven delicacies, prized for their unique flavor and intoxicating scent. After only a few bites, I was struck with inspiration. How delicious would one of these mushrooms be when stuffed with cheese and spinach? The answer is: very. Rest assured that I selected this particular variety of deep mushroom not only for its shape, which is ideal for holding the maximum amount of cheese (and spinach), but also for the fact that it does not carry the darkspawn taint. While certain dwarves will insist that a deep mushroom's proximity to lyrium and darkspawn can only improve its flavor, I am quite content to leave that particular question a mystery, especially where lyrium is concerned. Although I'm hardly and expert on the stuff, I can't help but think about Fenris and how much suffering he endured as a result of his lyrium-infused markings. It seems to me that, barring any natural resistance, lyrium and the body are two things that probably shouldn't mix.

Rivaini Couscous Salad

Image Description: A copper bowl filled with couscous, mixed with various veggies and a mint leaf on top. A letter with an amulet from Alistair in the bottom left corner - merch from the BioWare store.

Recipe Blurb: When I first encountered couscous, I mistakenly believed it to be a grain, like rice or the more familiar Fereldan barley. I was swiftly corrected. In fact, couscous is a sort of pasta, made with semolina flour and water, although it's far smaller than your typical Antivan pasta. Couscous has a very mild flavor on its own--maybe slightly nutty. But where it excels is in its ability to soak up surrounding flavors, making it a perfect base for any salad. I'd love to experiment further, but so far, this particular combination of red bell pepper and mint has proven to be incredibly pleasing.

Crab Cakes from Kirkwall

Image Description: A caste iron pan over a bed of coals and flames, filled with battered soft shelled crabs, red peppers, and lemon slices.

Recipe Blurb: I love it when recipes add a dash of whimsy into the mix. Food shoulf be fun. I, therefore, took it upon myself to put this into practice with a classic Kirkwall dish. After all, who hasn't looked at their crab cakes and wished they looked a little more like crabs? Okay, maybe I'm the only one who's thought this. But now that I've brought this possibility to your attention, I'm certain you're interested as well! Best of all, these extra-crabby crab cakes stay true to the original recipe's flavors, so nothig is lost--only gained!

Fluffy Mackerel Pudding

Image Description: Two red small bowls with baked masked potatoes and a slice of hard boiled egg on top sit on a net with a starfish in the background.

Recipe Blurb: Can it really be Feast Day without fluffy mackerel pudding? No! In fact, there's no dish I associate more strongly with the holiday than this unique combination of mackerel, onion, celery, and eggs. Granted, I've heard stories that, several decades ago, someone once attempted a diet consisting entirely of fluffy mackerel pudding. Now, that I certainly wouldn't recommend. It stops being Feast Day Fish if you eat it every day, no?

Snail & Watercress Salad

Image Description: A wooden bowl resting on a river rock, filled with a salad comprised of mixed greens, radishes, and cooked snails.

Recipe Blurb: When the Avvar can't get their hands on a gurgut or a wyvern, they turn their attention to smaller prey. Much smaller prey. Snails are found on many a hillside boulder, making them an abundant source of food for the Avvar. Now, while some would wrinkle their noses or cry out in disgust at the prospect of eating a snail, I am pleased to report that, when prepared correctly, the texture. and flavor are actually good! I could happily eat a plate full of snails dressed in butter and oil, but those still on the fence about a snail's place

Cave Beetles

Image Description: A carved bowl holding cooked whole prawns, lemon slices and herbs sit on a rock with fake beetles and a black rock with blue glowing lines in the background.

Recipe Blurb: You think that, after snails, I'd balk at beetles? Never! In fact, I greatly enjoyed this dwarven dish, which involves roasting cave beetles in their shells. However, I recognize that many may not have a palate that's nearly so adventurous. If that's the case, the cave beetles can be replaced with whole prawns while keeping the rest of the recipe the same. That being said, if you do enjoy the variation with prawns, I really recommend giving the cave beetles a try. They're quite similar in both texture and flavor. If you were to blindfold yourself, I doubt you could tell the difference!

#dragon age #dragon age cookbook #da: tot #da: tastes of thedas #tastes of thedas #long post #I am so excited this is just so good so far #I almost have bingo #archi is yelling into the void #I see that it mentioned it taking a year to traverse Thedas and we will all ignore that. Thank you. #I have feelings and observations which is for another post lol

[monmuses]

nebula-drcams asked: ♦ What was a mildly annoying thing that has happened to you rp wise? ; the salty af munday meme

god, i've had... a lot of things happen over the course of my years, but i can definitely say that the main mildly annoying thing i've had happen has been the disrespect towards @hollehi and our ships & writing together.

i don't know who sent me these anons and i still dont to this day. i think for the entirety of 2023, drama suddenly kicked up at least 5 times when we spoke to one another or shared stuff about our ship on my blog. i have been """warned""" when we publicly discussed college together when i announced i was returning to it. our ship has been trashed on by random anons who WANT my Sebastian specifically and wanted us to drop our ship so they could write with me.

even now, i'm still appalled that it happened as often as it did. i probably won't know who sent me the anons or who sent them to my mutual Holly, but it irks me still. that alone is genuinely why im so hesitant towards anons or people asking questions.

and to add onto that: the anon that tried to "joke" about me using COVID in a headcanon post. just the word half-mentioned in the name of the South Park special they did. i didnt know what they censored and was confused and assumed they were being passive aggressive in a way that i didnt understand because the joke made no sense to me.

and what did i get out of that? that same anon running to a numerous amount of partners i wrote with and "warned" them about me writing about "sensitive topics and not tagging them", all because i used the word "COVID" for the title of a specific episode from a show. that same day, i received hate anons at 4 am in the morning, trashing on me as a person, my interests, and bragged at the fact that they blocked me first.

i still have those emails. whats funny is i had a horrible nightmare that same night, so theres no doubt there was some form of connection between those two. ironic, isnt it?

#nebula-drcams #✨{𝔯𝔢𝔮𝔲𝔢𝔰𝔱 𝔯𝔢𝔠𝔢𝔦𝔳𝔢𝔡; (𝔞𝔰𝔨 𝔞𝔫𝔰𝔴𝔢𝔯𝔢𝔡) #✨{𝔬𝔲𝔱 𝔬𝔣 𝔪𝔞𝔫𝔤𝔞; (𝔬𝔲𝔱 𝔬𝔣 𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔢𝔯) #// *tl;dr ive had annoying anons #// *thats the most annoying thing ive had happen to me

[phxntomhives]

Welcome to my sideblog

That has most likely become my main one. But idk how to change main and second one. So yeah.

I will try to keep this blog mostly related to Kuroshitsuji and twst but who knows what I will like next. From memes (mostly repost because I am not that funny) to theories you can find anything here.

I am not spoiler free BUT I try my best to protect the new fans and hide things under the cut. Unfortunately, I am human, so you may run into spoilers, I am truly sorry.

I am 25, she/her pronouns, INTP. I would love to get to know more people in the fandoms I am in, but eeeh my social skills are lacking. So feel free to hit my dms, I don't bite I promise. I am trying to make more moots/mutuals pls

Here most thing you can find me posting about/comments etc (under the cut because it became long ops)

Kuroshitsuji/Black Butler

Sebaciel shippers do not interact. I will just block and move on. If you see me liking one post tagged like that it's because I am stupid and I don't always read the tags, pls let me know and I will fix the problem.

Now that the important part is over: I AM SO EXCITED FOR THE NEW SEASON AAH. The Weston College arc is my favourite so I am very happy and it feels so nice to see my children here :3

I am up to date with the manga as well, so if you need to cry with someone, I am here. Sobbing.

My fave is Ciel, and Lizzie slander shall not be tolerated (half joking, you are free to dislike her but I am ready to fight at any time to defend her).

A couple of things you may want to check? If you are bored???

New manga chapter comments under: #Phxntomhives Kuro manga yapping

"The Parade of Battlers" song analysis

Finny grew up (chapter 211 spoilers)

Short analysis of the GFantasy May cover

Silly theory of the cricket's ending dance.

He sure is very much unlucky when it comes to life decision...

Vanitas no carte/The case study of Vanitas

Up to date with both anime and manga! And not so patiently waiting for each update. I miss them, I hope for a new chapter soon.

Twisted Wonderland (JP SERVER)

Up to date with main story and eons behind with the events ops. No I do not know japanese, tho I am trying to learn, but I started the game when that was the only version avaiable and I will not start again on eng server sorry. (Technically I have started but I had no more space on my phone and one had to go)

If you are curious about what I think about the story check #phxntomhives twst yapping (because I plan to type a lot and refuse to keep updating this list it's supposed to be pretty after all)

Theory on how the events are canon. Part 2: wish upon a star.

Silver gets a title copium.

Tokyo Aliens

READ IT LEGALLY. FOR FREE. HERE I TELL YOU HOW.

WHY IS THERE NO FANDOM IT'S SUCH A NICE STORY. PLEASE GIVE IT A CHANCE.

I AM LIVING OF HALF A POST AND FANMADE TRANSLATION. HELP.

Parallels between Tokyo Aliens and Negai no Astro

Spoiler/Analysis from scans: chapter 41, chapter 42, chapter 43, chapter 44, chapter 45, chapter 46, chapter 47, chapter 48 (After I added these I basically took over the tags plsssss)

Dr stone

It's appearing more on my feed so I had the feeling I had to add this lol. I love it dearly, I finished the manga and I need to catch up with the anime. I am extremely worried about the rumored (?) new volume that is coming ngl

Negai no Astro

Damn, I am hooked.

Parallels between Tokyo Aliens and Negai no Astro

Aaand honestly many more, feel free to ask! If it helps, here is my not updated because it takes forever MyAnimeList! But I probably missed many of them so really, just come and ask.

I may drop some suggestions to read too sometimes, here they are

Suggestions for you <3

Why you should read Merry Marbling

If you like Negai no Astro or Tokyo Aliens PLEASE CHECK THE OTHER SERIE MENTIONED.

#kuroshitsuji #black butler #twisted wonderland #tokyo aliens #twst #vanitas no carte #the case study of vanitas #mutuals #searching for mutuals #negai no astro

[nabtime]

Our Empty Graves IX

Fandom: Danny Phantom / Batman: Under the Red Hood

Pairings: Danny Fenton/Jason Todd (Dead on Main)

Rating: Mature

Tags: batfamily, hazmat AU, Nobody Knows AU, Mute!Phantom, potential ghost king danny, slow burn?, DC means Disregard Canon, AU means AU nothing is exactly the same, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, more than canon typical violence, danny is a Halfa and also a Fetch, no beta we die like basically everyone

Summary: They say that Red Hood has a loyal mutt. The man rules his territory in Crime Alley with an iron fist and a guard dog at his side. They say that Hood calls him Fetch, sometimes Fetcher. No one's ever heard him speak. Anyone who's ever seen him says he looks like an experiment gone wrong, that Hood picked him up somewhere unspeakable. They say he'll do anything Red Hood asks of him and he'll do it well. That he's strong and fast and probably inhuman. The girls say he's sweet; quiet but charming in his own way. Rival gangs say he's vicious; that he'd sooner rip your throat out than let you go.

Jason just wants to help him.

Chapter 9: and I cant fix what was done to you (but ill shield you from the rain)

Chapter Summary: A few moments of calm before the storm. A little help goes a long way.

Chapter Notes: title from Small Hands by Radical Face Links: AO3 // Chapter 1 // Chapter 8 // Chapter 10 // Spotify

Nadi had never seen hair like Fetcher had. It wasn’t- hair- not properly. It was soft like fog, wispy like a cloud. And it moved like it was underwater, flowing and floating and altogether, frankly, a bitch to cut. But it needed to be trimmed, because it looked like someone had taken a torch to some parts of the poor kid’s skull. Chunks were burned off. She also wasn’t about to give up after all the trouble she’d been through to get little cujo to agree to this.

She’d walked ten blocks round trip to her apartment and back, Charlie huffing and puffing from just a simple folding chair and bag the entire time. Packed a sheet and all her usual hair-cutting tools. She knew her way around some scissors- a lot of the girls came to her for trims instead of paying for a full stylist. She used to be a barber, way back in what she liked to think of as her past life.

That time felt so long ago. Before she was Nadi, before she walked the streets of Park Row. She used to live in the nicer parts of Gotham, sitting pretty with a stable job, stable apartment, stable family. Then she transitioned and everything went to shit. Fired, evicted, disowned. The whole nine yards or whatever. No big deal, though. She liked where she was at in life now, despite it all. And most of the time she was genuinely happier here, working the corner as the woman she was always meant to be instead of suffering as the man society wanted her to be.

She’d found her people here, in Park Row. Crime Alley. The other cast-offs and has-beens. The others that didn’t belong. And this poor baby boy was yet another reject. A poor soul left for dead in the slums. He was such a sweetheart, and she wasn’t about to let him fend for himself so completely. Not if she could help it. And she could, if only a little bit. She would cut his hair, she would feed him, she would offer a shoulder to cry on and an ear to listen. She wouldn’t let anyone else feel like she once had. Alone and abandoned. All it ever took was a small kindness, a tiny gesture of good-faith. She could do that. She’d move heaven and hell if it meant the sweet boy that had saved her, had saved many others in the Alley, wouldn’t be so skittish. So alone. Sure he was vicious, but only when he needed to be. Only to protect others. Boy didn’t have a mean bone in his body. She wasn’t completely sure he had bones in his body but that wasn’t important.

What mattered was getting his hair fixed.

She couldn’t do much for him. Couldn’t even begin to fix all that was wrong with him, all the wrong that was done to him. She could kill Hood for scaring her baby off. She didn’t know what he did but she was going to kick his ass for it. Crime Lord or no, he deserved it. She’d already kicked him where it hurt when she’d gone after him about Fetcher being missing in the first place, but he could do with a few more.

The boy was purring under her hands as she carded her fingers through his hair. Purring. That was goddamn adorable. How dare Red Hood do anything to upset him when the boy could purr.

She snipped away, gently brushing as she went. Thankfully, even with the singed edges, his hair still had a bit of length so even after she was done it would still hover around his shoulders. Literally hover. He looked good, fluffy like that, and she didn’t want to cut it any shorter than she had to. He’d already flinched once at the scissors coming close to his little pointed ears, she wouldn’t have that again.

“Almost done, mi vida,” she murmured, trimming the last strand and dropping it to let it float. “You doing okay?”

The purr rumbled like he was humming in agreement. Fuck that was cute.

She ran her hands through his hair a few more times, shaking out loose strands and fixing any tangles. Just enjoying the cool feeling- like mist and fog with only the slightest solidity- whirl around under her touch. Enjoying the purr it kicked up when she did it.

“All done, baby,” she said, reluctantly pulling her hands away and tugging off the sheet she’d wrapped him in, shaking it out to let the cuttings fall to the ground. They were, strangely, black. The moment she cut it away, his hair would turn black and solid like normal hair. She didn’t ask. It was none of her business.

She circled him and smiled. He looked a little goofy, still touch-drunk with his eye-lids drooping, all slumped into the chair like he was melting. His hair didn’t look half bad now, wavy and curling around his face, kissing his neck and cheeks as it swayed in an invisible wind. She’d done a pretty damn good job, all things considered. She wanted to coo at the sight of him, but she held it in. She didn’t want to spook him. They’d been doing so well so far.

She didn’t want to go. Didn’t want to leave him here. But she knew he wasn’t going to come, no matter how many times she asked.

“Do you wanna have a look?” she asked, moving to pull the hand-held mirror from the bag she’d made Charlie lug with them.

Fetcher’s gaze sharpened and he tensed in the chair, looking ready to flee. His purring had ceased. He shook his head fervently and she wanted to despair. What in the world had happened to him? What horrors had descended on her sweet, sweet boy?

“Okay,” she placated. “That’s okay.” She waited until he’d relaxed again, though not as much as he had been before. “You’ll just have to trust me when I tell you that you’re a very handsome young man.”

He rolled his eyes and she grinned.

“It’s true! You’re a pretty boy, and my handiwork only made you prettier.”

He stuck his tongue out and folded his arms.

She laughed. She wanted to stay. She wanted him to come with her. But it wouldn’t happen. Not yet, at least. Not until she could kick Hood’s ass and get him to fix whatever he’d broken here. She rummaged in the bag and brought out the thick blanket she’d packed and the bimbunuelos and gansito snacks she’d grabbed from the gas station for him.

She sighed and made sure she had Fetcher’s attention. “Alright, baby. I know I can’t convince you to come with me,” she said slowly. “I’m still sure I could smuggle you in and Hood wouldn’t say a word if he knew what was good for him,” she murmured vindictively, “but I can’t force you.”

He simply watched her as she handed the blanket and the treats over. “But, please,” she begged,” take care of yourself out here, mi vida.”

He gathered everything up in his arms and gave her a serious nod. She smiled at his solemn look, wishing with all her heart he’d learn to smile more instead.

“I’m going to head back to work now,” she said, backing up to give Fetcher some space. “But I’m going to visit again.”

She gave him a stern look this time. “So you better take care of yourself, baby. I’ll be disappointed if you don’t.”

He pouted, petulant, and huffed before giving her another quick nod and floating himself back up into the bough of the hickory he’d claimed for himself.

It was a small kindness, giving him that haircut, but she knew it meant more than that for the both of them. It was about acceptance. Accepting him as he was. About permission. Permission to seek comfort from her. Permission to see and be seen. She hoped he understood that.

Now, she had a Crime Lord’s ass to kick.

═════ ◈ ═════

Alfred Pennyworth had served the Wayne family for many years now. Seen and done more things serving Bruce than he ever had in service to the Crown. One would think being a butler would be less exciting than a top ranking M15 agent, but one was not often employed and trusted by The Batman as a butler.

Seeing Bruce grow and raising him were some of the most rewarding moments of his life. Seeing him grieve and break after every death that piled upon his shoulders were the most heartbreaking moments of his life. Seeing him obsess over the possibility that one of his wards, one of his ‘fallen soldiers’, had made their way back to the grave, was nothing less than harrowing.

Once again, Alfred was witness to Bruce passively trying to kill himself- ignoring anything and everything but the case he was working on. The facts in front of him. Solving it all like a puzzle that had pieces one could fit together in the first place. Getting frustrated when it didn’t all fall into place. Bruce rarely acknowledged that sometimes cases didn’t have all the pieces, couldn’t be solved by fact alone, because to do so would admit defeat in his eyes. He needed logic and sense and many times life was far too messy for that. People were unpredictable and murders and villainy more so. But his boy had never been comfortable with things he couldn’t predict.

Like Jason Todd rising from the grave.

Alfred knew in his bones that Jason had returned, changed and broken, but returned all the same. He wasn’t about to say so to Bruce, the man would never understand the certainty he felt without the facts to confirm. But he knew . And it broke him just as well. He was over the moon to have one of his wards back in the living realm with them, for him to be alive again. But to see him torn and angry like he was… To see him so full of pain and hatred… Alfred couldn’t stand it. Couldn’t stand to know that he’d had a hand in the boy’s death. Had a hand in the neglect he’d suffered upon his initial return. It might not have been directly, but guilt never cared degrees of cause, especially when one cared . And Alfred Pennyworth cared more than anything.

He was nothing more than a sentimental old fool.

But he would help where he could. He would stand vigil with Bruce, care for the man wherever he would allow. He would keep in contact with Richard and Timothy, check in on them as often as possible ( he would not lose another ). He would place another cup of coffee by the Batcomputer and lie in wait. Nothing would move Bruce from the screens, not even much needed sleep, so he would do what he could and bring him finger-foods- easy to eat while typing away and staring, staring staring.

He would receive cheeky letters from anonymous ( Jason ) persons and deal with his badly behaved Bat as best he could. Scolding the man for being unnecessarily cruel and letting his anger cloud his judgment. (And he would hope it would be enough for Jason, that his scolding would get through Bruce’s thick skull so that he might not make an ass of himself even more. That the crimes Bruce had committed against Jason would lessen rather than stack. That there might one day be a chance at reconcile. That Jason might one day come home .)

But for now he would do what he could. He would wait and he would serve, doing all the little and big things to help. He would keep the manor running even if no one but himself had set foot in it for some time. He would clean and sweep and cook and weed and dust and wash and do everything he possibly could to make the manor clean and welcoming and warm. All in the hopes that someday, someday , the family that had been so painstakingly built and torn apart here, might return. Rebuild.

That all his wayward children might call the manor home once more.

═════ ◈ ═════

Tim had come back to a mess. Alfred had warned him, greatly under-sold the mess- sure, but had still warned him. Bruce hadn’t said anything at all about what had recently been happening in Gotham, only that he needed help with multiple cases.

Bruce needing help with multiple cases was always a bad sign. But Tim had never imagined something like this.

His predecessor potentially coming back from the grave. And murdering people. And Bruce absolutely losing his mind about it.

It wasn’t all that hard, in Tim’s experience, to make Bruce lose his mind. He wasn’t a particularly mentally stable man in the first place. It’d been the whole reason he’d insisted so much about becoming Robin in the first place. Batman needed a Robin. A balance. Otherwise Bruce could so easily lose himself to his grief and get swallowed up in the darkness. He’d seen it first hand after Jason’s death. How he hit harder, cut deeper, and had less mercy for his rogues all around. An inexcusable use of excessive force- all in grief and anger and guilt.

Bruce liked to pretend that he had no emotions. The he had the control to shut them on and off at will. But that couldn’t be further from the truth. The man was made of nothing but emotions. Anger and grief and fear and, astoundingly, compassion . Yes, he was logical and could be cold, and he didn’t talk about his emotions very well. But Tim knew they were there, brewing under the surface.

Bruce could talk about detachment all he wanted. Talk about shutting everything off in order to make a deduction. But that wasn’t what made Batman a brilliant detective. It was his stubborn nature, his drive. His empathy. It’s what made him a hero .

And Tim admired that.

But it also meant cleaning up his messes sometimes, and Tim admired that much less.

He’d barely been given a ‘how are you, chum,’ before Bruce was racing off to find Ra’s and question him about Jason. Leaving Tim to investigate a possible new meta hiding out in Crime Alley. Working with Red Hood. Working with Jason. To puzzle out motive and power set. To find a way to neutralize him should he be a threat ( and Tim didn’t think about how callous that was, how cruel that would seem ).

And thus, Tim did what he did best. Chug a lethal amount of espresso and hack into every governmental database conceivable. He’d find something. He always did.

Except, hours later. He’d found nothing . Not a damn thing. No one outside of Gotham had any record of a glowing hazmat-clad meta that had green blood . He’d scoured any and all social media accounts across the world and no one had ever posted about it. No weird deep-web forum dedicated to sightings of the guy. No newspaper articles complaining about his presence. No tourist commenting about seeing him. Nothing. Usually with a meta like him, someone so conspicuous , there was something. A short video. A dedicated cult. A local news segment.

Anything about the guy was all from Gotham. All recent and none of it helpful. It didn’t explain where he’d come from . What he was capable of . Didn’t explain why he went by the name Fetcher of all things. Was he an alien instead of a meta? Had he been looking in all the wrong places this entire time, because they’d just assumed he was a meta when he wasn’t? Meta, alien, science experiment gone wrong. All questions and no answers.

Tim wanted to rip his hair out.

Bruce had said that it was definitely a hazmat suit, even if it was glowing and slightly customized. Customized to what conditions, though, was the question. Any lens footage had been corrupted so Tim could only rely on B’s overly detailed report for a description. A level B suit. So working with something that was a severe inhalation risk but less of a risk for skin contact. But the SCBA was described as something Tim had never encountered before. A lightweight tank connected to a full face mask and tinted eye-shield. Working with a substance that glowed ? Something that caused the glow that Fetcher let off? But the only things he could think of were either occult or radioactive, and if it was radioactive then he’d be wearing a level A suit. And the green blood. Bruce had described it as similar to Lazarus Water.

Tim shuddered.

What the fuck kind of lab accident might make you bleed death juice?

And then, miraculously, he found a lead. A pair of scientists that worked in hazmat suits that matched the description. He’d need confirmation from Bruce that they looked the same, but the tint to the eye-shield or goggles, despite not working with radioactive material was a big enough clue. The substance they did claim to work with didn’t make much more sense, though. Ectoplasm. From ghosts.

There was no way.

He refused to go down that rabbit hole without confirmation from Bruce. It didn’t matter how morbidly curious he was. He’d fall down that trail later if he wanted. For now he’d need sleep. He couldn’t go any further in his research and the lead he’d found was already slim at best. He felt like a failure, like he needed to keep going. But Alfred was already breathing down his neck about resting and there wasn’t much more he could do anyway.

He saved what he’d found on the Doctors Fenton and trudged up the stairs to his room in the manor.

He couldn’t do much, but he’d help where he was capable. Not with the main case. Bruce wouldn’t let him touch it. But he could look into the secondary one as much as possible on his own, he’d ask about the similarity in the suits and then keep digging himself. He didn’t want B to fall into the same spiral that he had before, to get lost in grief with no one to help. He would be the Robin to his Batman. His support. His balance.

What little help he could give, he would.

═════ ◈ ═════

Bruce would go to the ends of the earth if it meant righting his past wrongs. If it meant undoing the one mistake that weighed on him the most. If it meant bringing back his second ward, his second Robin. If it meant never having to go through the pain of having that little soul slip right through his fingers.

Nothing would ever change that though. Even if Jason was really back from the dead, it would not change the fact that he had died. That Bruce had lost him. Failed him. It wouldn’t change the pain that both of them had felt. The pain of dying. The pain of coming back. The pain of losing someone he never should have lost.

He’d made a promise . And he’d broken it. He was much more careful with those now. Much more careful with everything .

Except Ra’s’ skull.

He had the man pinned to the floor, unmerciful as he questioned the master assassin about Jason. About the sudden appearance of Red Hood. About Ra’s’ possible involvement in his resurrection and why he hadn’t done it sooner or told Bruce about it happening.

“You don’t have all the facts, detective,” Ra’s said, voice strained from the force of Bruce’s weight pushing him into the tile of his fortress.

“Then enlighten me,” he spat, knowing full well he was starting to let his temper get the best of him. He was better than this, but when it came to Jason- everything felt like it was too much. Like his anger and grief could boil over in an instant.

“The Waters cannot bring a person back from the dead!”

“That’s not a fact,” Bruce argued, trying valiantly to tamp down the fury that threatened to overcome him. “That’s a theory.”

“A well founded one,” Ra’s grumbled, indignant. Then quieter, “We tried to bring him back. Initially. Nothing was said about it because it didn’t work.”

Bruce lifted from Ra’s back and stepped away to give the man room to stand, watching intently for any sudden movements the entire time.

“Elaborate.”

“The boy died,” Ra’s began, brushing dust off his robes as he stood, “partially at my fault. I should never have worked with that mad clown in the first place, and the little Robin paid the price for it.”

Bruce stood in wait. He knew all this. Ra’s working with the Joker is what allowed the villain to capture Jason. It was a solid rule in the underworld of Gotham to never work with the Joker. He could not be accounted for, could not be controlled. Ra’s found that out the hard way.

“So, in order to rectify the mistake, Talia stole the body and replaced it with a convincing replica.”

Bruce closed his eyes and held everything in. He would not break here. Not in front of Ra’s. He’d been so overcome with grief when he’d dug Jason’s small little body out of the wreckage, that once he’d finally let it go- he hadn’t had the strength to look at it again afterwards.

“We dipped his body in the Pit,” he continued flippantly, “and nothing happened. We kept the body monitored for a time and then switched it out again after a continued absence of life.”

“So you wouldn’t know about a possible connection between the deceased Jason Todd and The Red Hood,” he stated.

Everything was slipping from his fingers. All his leads were turning to dead ends that didn’t make sense . He knew that The Red Hood was Jason. That was his Robin , returned from the grave. He could feel it, and there were so many clues that led to that conclusion. But they didn’t add up. Nothing was adding up. He felt like he was going insane, trying to shove together pieces that didn’t fit to complete a puzzle he already knew the answers to. He wanted to believe, more than anything, that Jason was alive, but he couldn’t trust that he was (because the disappointment would hurt him more than anything else if he wasn’t) because he didn’t have confirmation .

“Now, I didn’t say that,” Ra’s said, back turned to face the window and the red of the sun rising over the horizon.

“Explain,” Bruce gritted out for what felt like the thousandth time. Always asking for an explanation and never quite getting what he needed.

Ra’s sighed. “Jason Todd was found wandering the streets of Gotham,” he turned to give Bruce an inscrutable look, dark eyes heavy. “He was more akin to a walking corpse than a person. Running on instinct alone. We did not alert you to his resurrection because he was still not himself.”

“You don’t know how he came back,” he said more than asked. This was the more important question. How Jason could walk among the living so long after his death when Bruce would have done damn near anything to bring him back if he could.

“No,” Ra’s answered simply. “But a second dip in the Pit waters after he shambled in with Talia brought his mind back. Which was rather more of a miracle than his initial awakening.”

“Could the first dip have brought him back, but delayed?” None of this made any damn sense. This is why he hated working with magic and mystical things. They never made any sense.

The other man stared, hard and unforgiving. Irritated. “I have worked with the Lazarus Pits for a very long time. And yet I am still no closer to answers for questions such as yours. Your guess is as good as mine.”

“You can’t confirm, definitively, the reason Jason Todd came back to life.”

“No,” Ra’s said with a sneer, body tensing to strike. Bruce had overstayed his welcome then. “That’s for you to puzzle out, Detective.”

Bruce turned and left. There was nothing else he could gain from interrogating Ra’s and inciting the man’s temper. Bruce’s own was on a hair-trigger as it was. He would begin his long journey back to Gotham, only partial answers acquired and more questions whirling in his head.

There was little he could do now. He needed to get back to his city, regardless of what was happening with Jason. Regardless of if he’d come back as the Red Hood or not.

There was little he could do to make up for all the ways he’d failed his second Robin, all the things he hadn’t done in time, hadn’t done when it was needed. But he’d do every small thing he could, now . As Batman, all he’d ever been able to do was small things. One criminal apprehended here, one rogue put back in Arkham or Blackgate there. But the city was still torn apart, citizens still ended up dead. Like putting a band-aid on a gaping chest wound.

He’d never fix everything, but he’d do damage control.

═════ ◈ ═════

Jason wasn’t much of a fan of waiting. Not when he was so much closer to executing the best part of his plan. He knew where the Joker would be soon. He had everything he needed ready. He would capture the crazy clown, beat him near to death with a crowbar to see how he liked it, and then set him like the spring in a trap. Bruce would be back from whatever jaunt he’d fled the city on and he’d be able to goad the big bastard into a chase.

Then he’d snare him and finally get the answers he’d so desperately been wanting.

Why hadn’t Bruce killed the Joker already? And what would it take for him to do it?

What would finally make the Big Man snap?

But first he had to catch the clown. He didn’t know what Harley was up to or what the party she’d mentioned was all about- and maybe he was being hasty in planning to just barge in guns blazing without gathering more information. But he was already antsy. He wanted this done already. He wanted to make Bruce choose . Either Bruce would finally kill the Joker or Jason would die by the man’s hand. Again. He would make Bruce suffer the choice, make him realize the severity of his decision to keep the mass murderer alive. Jason hadn’t been the only one killed by the clown, not by a long shot, and people would only keep dying if he was still free.

The Joker would find his end, one way or another. Jason would make sure of that- even if it had to be from beyond the grave again.

If Bruce chose to kill him instead of the deranged clown- Jason didn’t really know what he would do, but at least he’d have his answer. That Bruce had cared for whatever asinine definition of justice he had more than he ever had Jason. That Bruce cared more for his own personal morals than actually doing something to save the people of the city he’d sworn to protect.

He didn’t have confidence in which answer Bruce would choose.

Waiting also had the downside of giving him time to think . Something he currently didn’t want to do. Not when it made him reflect on his own mistakes. Made him reflect on the ways he’d hurt Fetcher so badly.

He regretted his actions in the dojo that day. But he knew he couldn’t take them back, couldn’t take back the tears he’d caused the other to shed. He was supposed to be better than that. To not let his paranoia get the best of him and allow him to hurt the ones he cared for, they way Bruce often did. It hadn’t taken very long for Jason to go back through everything that had happened with Fetcher and realize that he had severely jumped the gun.

He’d come to trust the kid way too fast, sure, but that wasn’t the other’s fault. He’d been desperate for an ally and he’d seen just a bit too much of himself in the poor soul he’d saved. He’d wanted to protect Fetcher from a fate like his, but all he’d ended up doing was hurt him.

But his eyes- the green- the sharpness there-

Jason paused where he stood in his kitchen, hands gripping the cast iron skillet just a bit too tight. He could hear the metal creak under his grip, likely to snap if he didn’t relent. The kid’s eyes had reminded him too much of the Pit- of when he’d died and come back. Of the torture of resurfacing to a new world he didn’t understand.

If Fetcher had been working for Ra’s he’d been doing a poor job of it. It took Jason far too long to realize that. No movement from Talia or Nanda Parbat. No whisper of activity from Ra’s. Nothing at all to indicate that Fetcher was one of their agents. Whatever mess the kid had gotten himself mixed up in, it wasn’t necessarily connected to the League. And Jason had yelled at him. Called him a monster. And all he’d done- was cry.

Jason was the monster here, not Fetch.

He was likely better off sulking in the graveyard Jason had found him in anyway. It would have only been a matter of time before Jason turned on him. Or did something else to get him hurt, get him killed. Like father, like son.

When Nadi had come to yell at him about Fetcher’s disappearance, it had been something of a relief. Even if she had kicked him in the balls, it was still good to see that someone cared about the kid. Someone good . Someone that could help him where Jason couldn’t. And when she’d come back a second time to demand that Fetcher be allowed back into Crime Alley, he’d reluctantly agreed. He couldn’t face the other after everything he’d said and done, but he wouldn’t banish him for Jason’s mistakes.

He hasn’t seen the other since then. But he knows that he’s in the area. Seen the faint glow of the other brighten a dark alleyway, trailing after Nadi like he used to trail after Red Hood.

Jason shakes off his thoughts and goes back to cooking. Only to realize that he’d made two servings.

Silently, guiltily, he packs it away. He’ll hand it out to the first person he sees once he leaves for patrol (no use in good food going to waste- even if his first instinct is to trash it). The sight of it made him sick.

He’d have to live with what he’d done and that was that. There was little he could do to fix things. Little he could do to help. But he’d keep his distance and let Nadi take care of Fetch where he’d failed so spectacularly. He didn’t want to face the other again, and it made him a coward- but he didn’t want to risk hurting the other more than he deserved. He’d already done enough damage.

( You’re too angry, Jason. You take it out on the wrong people. It makes you reckless. You’re going to get an innocent person killed one day because you couldn’t control your temper. This is not why I let you become my second Robin. You’re benched . Indefinitely. )

Jason was far from perfect and he knew that. But he’d take his imperfection and still try where he could. He’d fix the city, little by little. Build it up where Bruce couldn’t and clean it out where Batman wouldn’t.

Even if he died again proving his point to Bruce, even that little bit, would help in its own way. Make Bruce see where he’d gone wrong or else prove where Batman was failing. If the bastard was too stubborn to see that Jason was right about this, then Gotham had long been doomed anyway. His second death wouldn’t change that.

All he had to do now, was wait.

#naps fics #dp x dc #Our Empty Graves #dpxdc

[aelaer]

“Nobody asked about my writing” meme

Thanks for the tag, @tea-understands :) Thankfully I have a small handful of folks who ask me about such things but I do love these memes.

 1: what are you currently working on? 

The Big Boy Fic! The finale of Earth-197320, which I'm 99% certain I am calling Above the Shadows. And I'll have a fun update on Write Every Day June in a couple days.

2: summarize your current project 

It's the fifth and final fic in a series that I started 4 years ago from an anonymous prompt sent to @amethyst-noir. I really clicked with it and she gave me her blessing to pursue it as a full-fledged fic, and here we are today.

Here's my first stab at a proper summary that I wrote for this questionnaire (tell me what you think y'all??):

2019 starts off in crisis-mode as rifts within the borders of reality begin spiraling out of control, drawing the resources of the Masters of the Mystic Arts thin. Tony now juggles the problems of a suddenly-absent Stephen, keeping his work with the sorcerers a secret, and Pepper's uncertain future. Stephen does what he can to maintain the stability of reality while keeping the promises he made. And somewhere out there, the other Stephen Strange is still hiding, putting his own plans into play.

3: summarize your current project poorly 

An author split up what should have been a single work into five separate stories because she wanted to fulfill Bingo cards in 2019, leading to a series that the readers are probably going to need to reread because there's so much detail in Fic 5 that calls back to stuff that happened in Fics 1-4. Fics 1-3 match the length of Fic 4, and Fic 5 is well over the length of Fics 1-4 combined, making for even poorer fic splitting choices. Whoops.

4: describe your favorite character or characters

I mean. Do I really need to? If you're on my blog you know who my faves are.

I guess quick summary as they are in the series in particular:

Stephen Strange: Has an enormous guilt complex that he's been working through a lot. He got better with the help of new friends. His work has endeared them to him quite a bit.

Wong: Has taken a leadership role, but not the title of Sorcerer Supreme for reasons not yet established to the readers. Carries his own secrets. Excellent poker face, but not emotionless.

Tony Stark: Has been blatantly ignoring the Accords ever since he went against Ross's back to find Steve in Siberia and has been continuing that trend since. Seeing the feds turn their eyes on Peter changed his opinion quite strongly. The Steve Issue is still difficult.

Other Strange: He thinks the Avengers and Masters of the Mystic Arts have failed their duties and that he can protect all of reality by himself. He just needs more power.

5: post a line from your current project without any context 

Closed my eyes and scrolled and went to a random page. This is what came up.

Oh, Jesus Christ. This explained so much about the man.

6: how do you get through writers block?

If it's not something health-related which just makes it physically very hard to work on items, I'll switch projects with my shorter fics. For a long fic like this, I'll put on a sprint and just power through 15 minutes at a time to get the harder bits out.

For health-related stuff (including mental), you sometimes just need to work on that first before you can be in the right space to write.

7: would you want to live in the world of your current work? 

Hell no. Superhero worlds are terrible for normal people.

8: briefly discuss your outlining process, if you outline 

I write an outline with the main beats of what I want in that chapter. Then when I get to the actual chapter, I'll sometimes expand the outline with more detail in that chapter section itself. I often go back to the main outline and add new things as I come up with them, or switch around elements in the story to a new chapter. This is how the planned outline has grown from around 12 normal chapters and 1 interlude chapter to 18 normal chapters and 2 interlude chapters (with potential for more growth seeing as I'm getting into some areas that have original outlining that I no longer am certain I want to use as they were ideas from over 2 years ago and the story's evolved a lot since then).

9: what is the aesthetic of your current project?

So much plot. Rewriting a lot of the end of phase 3 to push my Found Family agenda. Fix it vibes, but I think it's a natural fix it arc from the canon drama that could have happened in canon if the Russos gave a damn. A lot of character exploration into their own separate journeys and growth arcs. Pretty accurate on Marvel tones with action, drama, a bit of snark and humor. An itty bitty dash of canon romance but we all know I'm including it only because it needs to be there due to the plot and character arc reasons and not because I'm all googly-eyed for the genre.

10: what song sums up your current work the best?

Each chapter in the series takes a song lyric from a specific song and I identify that song with the story pretty heavily. For instance, Illuminating the Shadows took "The Light" from Disturbed.

For Above the Shadows, it's "Phoenix" by Fall Out Boy (who I'm seeing live in concert in a couple days, yay).

Tagging those who I know are writing/trying to write: @mckiwi, @sobeautifullyobsessed, @burglarhobbit, @amethyst-noir. No obligation either way. Also if I didn't tag you please feel free to take this (and you can poke me here if you'd like as a reminder that you're still actively writing fic regardless of the fandom and I'll try to remember for these sorts of things).

#my writing #tag game #tony stark #stephen strange #fanfic

[puppyboy-boytoy]

new intro (wip on making it cute)

hello this is my nsfw 18+ blog, you may have seen other posts of mine because i migrated from a sideblog to a main blog so i can block people directly. the old blog is @catboy-catboy-backup

holy fuck put your age in your bio or ill block you :l

pls read entire thing before referencing my partners!!

21

they/he + masc terms (puppyboy, boytoy, bf)

dating @cagedcryptid and @princesswisteria, im the polycules designated sub but we're all switchy/flexible in positioning

we're all physically disabled

obnoxious and autistic /pos

t4t

demi-sexual gender fucked and queer

im a switch verse who usually tops, only really sub and bottom for my princess + boyfriend

you can call me puppy, pup, or dog

pls i love asks!! and dms!! send me sexual stuff!! we want to build relationships but you CANNOT be weird about it also NO UNSOLICITED PICTURES. PLS ASK FIRST. thanks :3

yes:

monster fucking, edge and denial, oral fixation, teasing, overstimulation, bondage, exhibitionism, begging, praise, embarrassment, biting, scratching, breeding with pregnancy, light somno, impact, spanking, stimmimg, choking, pinning, probably so many more

NO:

cnc, anal, piss, scat, ageplay, detrans, misgendering, breath, guns,

i might reblog things w the word c*nt but pls don't directly refer to my body or my partners' bodies w the word thanks!!

tbd:

blood/knives, hard impact, masochism

this is a queer blog. its not meant for cishets, but as long as yall are Normal you can stay. T4T ALWAYS ‼️ ageless, blank, and minors DNI. you will be blocked. i block liberally.

more info under the cut!

flashing images/blinkies under the cut!

#boytoy thoughts -> stuff i wrote

#monster nsft -> anything monster fucking related

#this puppy bites -> anything biting or dog related

#both ways -> id like to do it and also have it done to me

#image -> anything with an image or video

#creature -> monster fucker specific art and pictures

everything else should for the most part be tagged accordingly but lmk if i gotta change anything

i use they/it, and have a clit/tdick/cock, pussy/hole, and tits/chest

princess uses he/him but femme titles, and doesnt want his body referenced

my boyfriend uses they/he and does not want his body referenced at all actually

my discord server is now up! its for kinky transgender autistic disabled folks! we have about 35 members rn, but only a small handful are active

the bot is coded for 21+ but if youre 18-20 dm me we can try and figure something out 😌

dm / comment / ask for the link! it keeps expiring

#intro #bio #t4t nsft #nsft wlw #catboy speaks #boytoy thoughts #<- so you can click on it and see everything with that tag #this puppy bites

[wrestlingisfake]

G1 Climax B Block finals preview

Will Ospreay (4-2, 8 points) vs. El Phantasmo (3-3, 6 points) - Only one of these guys can join Kazuchika Okada in the quarterfinals. If ELP wins, he'll have the tiebreaker over everyone else who can finish at 8, so he'll clinch second place. If Ospreay wins or the match goes to a draw, then Okada and Ospreay advance and ELP is out.

By the end of 2019, El Phantasmo was 3-2 in singles matches against Ospreay. Since then, of course, Ospreay moved up to the heavyweight division, won the IWGP world title, and feuded with the likes of Okada and Kenny Omega. Main event headliner Ospreay is unbeaten against Phantasmo, who just hasn't been in his league So as it stands now, ELP is a heavy underdog looking for a career-defining upset win against a top guy.

Phantasmo is clearly the sympathetic favorite, after getting kicked out of Bullet Club, turning over a new leaf, and giving a heartfelt speech about learning his grandfather died during the tournament. That alone won't help him get a win over Ospreay. What will help, though, is that New Japan isn't going to want all their top guys in the quarterfinals, because then half of them would have to do jobs. If Ospreay beats ELP and doesn't win the G1, he's a choke artist. If ELP beats Ospreay and gets eliminated in his next match, he's a success story. So I think everything points to Phantasmo closing the show with a touching babyface promo in Osaka.

Kazuchika Okada (5-1, 10 points) vs. Tanga Loa (3-3, 6 points) - Okada has clinched a spot in the quarterfinals, it's just a question of whether he's in first or second place. If Ospreay wins his match, Okada needs a win or draw to stay in first.

Loa can only reach second place if he wins here, and Taichi doesn't win his match, and Ospreay vs. Phantasmo is ruled a no-contest. Realistically, though, that's not going to happen, so he'll have to settle for trying to get a win over the GOAT, which would at least be a nice feather in his cap. But as usual, I don't bet against Okada; he's winning this block.

Taichi (3-3, 6 points) vs. Great-O-Khan (2-4, 4 points) - Taichi technically could reach second place if he wins and no points are awarded in Ospreay vs. Phantasmo, but I find that highly unlikely. Khan is totally eliminated and mainly fighting to stay out of last place.

I would have expected Taichi to finish with a higher score this year, considering that he's become a fan favorite and he leads his own faction now. On the bright side for him, he was the first man in the block to beat Will Ospreay, so I think that almost guarantees him an IWGP United States title match on the next tour. I would imagine KENTA will challenge Taichi for the KOPW title at some point as well, unless Khan wins here and makes a challenge right away.

The English commentary team has been really selling the idea that Khan is demoralized by his losses in this year's tournament, and he needs to rebuild. I'd like to see that lead to something, but sometimes the English announcers just write their own storylines without any insight into what the actual booker is planning. I'm guessing Taichi wins here and Khan just keeps being the spooky mean guy that can't beat anybody when it counts.

KENTA (2-4, 4 points) vs. YOSHI-HASHI (2-4, 4 points) - Both guys are done and trying to stay out of last place. Yoshi used to be a lovable loser but New Japan started taking him more seriously after the put the IWGP heavyweight tag title on him and Hirooki Goto. Even so, when it comes to singles action he isn't doing much better now than a few years ago. Kenta should probably win here.

Tetsuya Naito & Shingo Takagi & Yota Tsuji & BUSHI vs. EVIL & Yujiro Takahashi & SHO & Dick Togo - This is to build to Takagi vs. Evil on August 8. It's basically the same match from the night before, except with Tsuji and Togo added to it. Togo is probably going to cost his team the match.

Eddie Kingston & Togi Makabe vs. David Finlay & Chase Owens - Kingston vs. Finlay is set for August 8. I'd normally expect Makabe to take the loss in this match, since everyone else is in the tournament. But Owens is already eliminated and he's a glorified jobber. This could actually go either way, I think.

Jeff Cobb & HENARE vs. Tama Tonga & Hiroyoshi Tenzan - Henare will meet Tonga on August 8. If not for that, I'd expect New Japan to seriously consider jobbing out Henare, because I'm impatient with them to take him seriously. But under the circumstances, Tenzan has to drop the fall.

Hiroshi Tanahashi & Tomohiro Ishii vs. Mikey Nicholls & Kosei Fujita - Another preview match, this time for Ishii vs. Nicholls on August 8. Fujita is a full member of TMDK alongside Nicholls, but he's still just a glorified Young Lion, which means he's bound to lose this match.

SANADA & DOUKI vs. Kaito Kiyomiya & Ryohei Oiwa - This one feels kind of random. Oiwa pretty much has to lose.

#njpw #g1 climax #el phantasmo #will ospreay

[vicwrites-and-acts]

Writblr Introduction

I've been on Tumblr for a bit now; mainly lurking on my other blog, until I decided i'd make a new one to actively engage in the community, and share what I am most passionate about. So here's my official introduction!

About me:

My name is Victoria, but most call me Vic, so I am fine with whatever you'd like as long as its not derogatory. I'm 24 and very unsure of where the future is going for me. She/her pronouns for me preferably, but I'd also answer to dude or bro, because it's a love language.

I'm a mom of three, so writing or engaging is sometimes limited to my free time. I'm American (I know, I know, how boring.) Kidding. Mostly. I'm also Neurodivergent, but that's probably pretty obvious.

I've been writing since I was eleven, and it's always been a major passion; there's just something so raw and real about storytelling, and I've always been a pretty immersive reader. The book just transforms on the page and I'm swept away into different worlds. Until recently, my writing has mainly been fanfiction. I found it so much easier than being confident in my own abilities as a writer, because the foundation was already laid before me.

I can almost never focus on one thing at a time. So you'll probably see me flip flopping around like a fish out of water.

I'm also an aspiring actress as well as an author. So you'll probably see some things related to that – I hope you don't mind. Some other interests include: Soap making, candle making, sewing, knitting, and Psychology!

Asks and tag list/tag games friendly!

Side note: I am not at all familiar with writblr/tag games at all so any tips is 100% appreciated. Always open to new friends as well!

I will more than likely use this blog for posting about my OC'S, my WIP's, aesthetics, moodboards, Playlists, poetry, and reblogging helpful writing tips, as well as reblogging and helping the writblr community.

ABOUT MY WRITING:

I enjoy reading/writing sci fi, dystopia, fantasy, and horror on occasion. My works will almost always have a romantic subplot because I am a smol hopeless romantic in a big, big world.

HUGE fan of redemption arcs. Yes, please. Give me the morally grey character who does awful things but in the end makes a huge turnaround and is just so chefs kiss

Some of my works will have triggering content, and it will be marked with trigger warnings when applicable.

Some fandoms I engage in and do writing in on my main blog @johnmurphysgirl is as follows:

LOST

The 100

Stranger Things

BBC Merlin

Jurrasic Park/World

There's probably more but my mind goes blank. Rip

My WIP:

Title: Tempus (subject to change/filler name)

Genre: Sci fi, dystopian, romance

(think Lost in Space meets Hunger Games: Catching Fire)

Current status: hahahaha panic induced screeching; chapter two is halfway finished, but I've been struggling with severe writers block for months.

POV: third person, eventual switching, multiple povs.

Plot: Scientists have always meddled in things they couldn't begin to understand; mixing viruses and making bio weapons in the same containment area as cures for all manner of ills. The scientist in question lets out a dangerous disease, a vampiric mutation called the NightWalker Virus.

Only a select few were chosen to go to the Odyssey; a space station that would lead them to safety on a newly discovered planet.

Eris Matthews is an unauthorized stowaway on the Exodus with her best friend Cashmere Moni, and the owner's son, Rhys Grey. The ship's capacity was only meant for four people, not six. They crash land onto their new home, far from the civilization they'd hoped to find.

They'd fled to the stars in hopes of salvation, only to find their new home riddled with demons and unanswered questions, betrayals, and it is not at all what it seems.

#writers on tumblr #writblr #writblr intro #writing #my wip #my introduction #aspiring author #writer #poetry and other cool things #sci fi #dystopian #vampire virus #space

[sneakyscarab]

hiya! so those of you following me may have noticed that touhou has taken over my brain over the last summer. i’ve been working my way through playing all* of the main touhou titles and after finishing th11 realized that i have many thoughts about these games and no real outlet because none of my friends play touhou so im just gonna start doing these review-esque posts about all the touhou games once ive finished them. as you can tell by the fact i just beat 11 i have a bit of a backlog here so expect to see a handful of these.

if you do not care about all that, thats fine. i just really wanna talk about touhou lol. posts in this series will be tagged “#grimoire of nina” for archival/organiztion purposes. anyways all that said it is time for the actual post

nina’s thoughts on Touhou 6 - Embodiment of Scarlet Devil

it's the first touhou! well it's not obviously there's a big 6 there but it's the first in the windows continuity, the first that ive played through to the end and finished, and supposedly the first in the streamlined danmaku style of gameplay. 

since its the first of them, its lacking in many unique elements that make it easy to talk about, so this one's probably gonna flow way worse than later reviews. it's very simple but not in a bad way, just raw shootin’ and danmaku dodgin’. one interesting “mechanic” unique to this game is ironically it's lack of one. in touhou to make dodging the bullets possible your actual hitbox is way smaller than your character sprite, and later games let you view your true hitbox while focusing. EoSD doesn't have that, so you kinda just have to get a feel for what parts of you can safely take a shot without you getting owned. it's kinda fun not knowing exactly whats safe, but probably rough if you’re used to the later games. of the different player options my favourite was Marisa’s illusion laser setup (i am not immune to master spark) but all 4 choices were pretty fun, and i ended up doing 1cc’s with both of Marisa’s options.

the characters in this one are all really good! it helps a lot that most of them show up frequently in future games and outside media and get more development. if i had to pick favourites though, id go with Rumia, Patchouli, and Koakuma. Rumia is a adorable little gremlin youkai with darkness powers who flies around t-posing, using darkness to create an orb around her during daytime to block sunlight and subsequently bumping into trees cause she can't see anything through the orb lmao. Patchouli is a tired magician youkai who spends all day in a huge magical library reading tomes and being bothered by Marisa. she has like asthma and anemia so she can't do any physical activity ever she's just the ultimate nerd. also her everyday outfit is just some comfy purple pajamas its an absolute vibe. lastly Koakuma is Patchouli’s familiar who's a summoned demon of some kind (usually interpreted as a succubus) who has the unfortunate job of actually managing and organizing the insane labyrinthine library that they live in and assisting Patchouli with personal matters. ironically Rumia and Koakuma have like the least characterization actually in the game (along with Daiyousei) but they get more love in external media and fanon. 

overall EoSD is great. it has a set of beloved characters, and really solid base gameplay. its a bit basic and lacking in a few features but its still great fun :> thanks for reading if you actually stuck with it this far!

(*not sure if i will play the first 5 games from the pc-98 era. i may check them out afterwards but theyre not high priority)

#grimoire of nina #touhou #touhou 6 #touhou eosd #embodiement of scarlet devil #touhou project

[sudoscience]

Thanks for the tag, @prodigaldaughteralice!

Favorite color: I've always liked black and red, but purple's been growing on me, lately. TBH, I really like the ace pride flag (black, gray, white, and purple), which is fortunate for me, an asexual. Like, I could easily put together an outfit with all of those colors, look damn good in it, and I feel like most people wouldn't suspect anything.

Currently reading: Tragically, I haven't read any books in a long time. I own several that I at one point intended to read, but never got around to. It's gotten to the point that I've pretty much stopped asking for books for Christmas/my birthday because I know they'll just take up space and go unread. I should change this.

Last song: "Who Can It Be Now?" by Men at Work. This is also the song I currently use as my alarm, so I'll probably hear it again in a few hours if I don't sleep through it. Not enough songs with sax solos these days.

Last series: I'm currently watching the second season of Amphibia. I just finished the episode with Kermit Crumpet the Frog and Stan Pines Ponds. I love it, but it still hasn't gotten to the point where I'm binge watching it because I absolutely must know what happens next. I've also been watching Westworld and Better Call Saul, but I'm caught up on those.

Last movie: I'm pretty sure the last movie I watched was They/Them. It wasn't very good. I think the last movie I watched in theaters was On The Count Of Three (TW for suicide if you decide to look that up), which probably tells you how often I go to the movies since it came out in May. I enjoyed that one, but the trailer led me to believe it was going to be funnier than it actually was. I'm not saying it was unfunny, but it's more of a dramedy than a pure comedy. I guess there's a limit to how funny a movie about two guys who want to kill themselves can be. No, iPhone, I did not want to write "Jill themselves". Why would anyone want to write that?

Sweet/spicy/savory: In order of preference, sweet, savory, then spicy. I tend to gravitate towards sweet foods, but if I ever have cravings for something, it's usually for savory foods. I feel like I used to do better with spice, but lately I'll see spicy food and just think, "That doesn't sound very good." I'm sure if I ate it, I'd enjoy it, but it's always like this mental block. I feel like part of it is that it tends to give me acid reflux now when it didn't use to, so I have to know in advance so I can take a Prevacid or something.

Currently working on: I've got a song, but I don't have a good title for it yet. Working title is "Village at Night" or "Peaceful Theme". My overarching goal is to create an album that could plausibly be a video game soundtrack, and the idea for this one was to be the main menu theme. I'd include a clip, but I don't want to bother with turning on my computer right now, so I'll just say it reminds me of "Home" from Undertale and "See You Tomorrow" from OMORI, neither of which is the main menu theme for their respective games, but that doesn't really mean my song couldn't be the hypothetical main menu theme of its nonexistent game. I also always feel like my songs are too short and/or don't have conclusive endings, forgetting that the main feature of video game music is that it (usually) loops indefinitely.

Other things I'm working on include getting to bed earlier. Since it's currently 4am, you can see how well that's going. (I went to bed at 5am last night, so I guess technically I am moving in the right direction, but my goal was to be in bed closer to 2am.)

I'll tag @sukifoof, @asgore-agenda, @sleebyjam, and @momxu, but no pressure. Anyone else who wants to do this can, too.

#long post #tag game #anyone else worried that it looks like you're playing favorites when you only tag a few mutuals in these? no? just me? #i assure you that i love all my mutuals equally but i think i was only supposed to tag 4

[spyroforlife]

Aight I’m doing it, gonna explore some of my VERY OLD writing, the first “books” I ever wrote. Gonna use the tag ‘my old writing’ for this if ya wanna block it, but anyway it is time for me to reminisce >:) I’ll probably devote a post to each book I decide to post pics of, and I’ll likely do a format where the cover page will be in the main post, and the rest under a read more. Now without further ado…

ah yes. The label on the shoe box I kept all these in. Love how I wrote this as if it would actually stop anyone from opening it

(it has my full name on there so I of course blotted that out lol)

Ahh gotta love that old school Microsoft Office clipart. Anyway it is time to open the box and select my first victim

OH I forgot I also used this much later on to store letters that were written to me in basic training (gently moves those aside)

…I’ve made a fatal error, this box doesn’t have my most ancient stories, it has ones from slightly later on in my childhood. NOO where is my Charmander and Torchic story!! Ah well I may have to delay this adventure until I rescue the early stories from my storage unit, but for now. This will do.

Once upon a time (probably before 2008 but idk when exactly) my older brother made the fatal mistake of revealing to me that people will actually go on the Internet and just post weird lil stories :O Like they’ll just write something funny. And post it. And other people can read it. Wow!

Naturally, I wanted to try it, and came up with a really ridiculous idea about giant weiner (or wiener, I kept changing the spelling) dogs that ended up morphing into a multi-story saga where it turned out the giant dogs are actually ALIENS and Earth ends up destroyed, also it features me and my older brother as self-inserts which he thought was GREAT. The best thing? None of this actually made it onto the Internet but I sure did print out the whole dang story, make a cover, and then tie it all together with nice gold thread. More under the cut

I just wanted to post the full first page so y’all can get an idea of the ridiculousness of my early writing. I was probably like. Actually I don’t think I was even 10 yet. Or maybe I was? Ehh about 10, maybe a little older but I’m relatively sure I wasn’t a teen yet. My brother helped contribute parts of this (like the strange, funky business part) but most of this was written by me.

As you can see the gross out humor is in full effect. Of course. As I was a young child who watched Nickelodeon. Moving on

A small excerpt I just happened to enjoy. “Let’s go drink the sacred toilet water!!” is quality dialogue let’s be real here. From here on out I’m just gonna share my titles from each story

This is the start of the second story in the series, and it heralds a running thing with me criticizing people if they happen to skip stories and read out of sequence

“if you had even bothered” TWEEN ME WITH THE SNARK

Yeah said picture of Kibblion is actually what was on the cover page. Made in MS Paint, to everyone’s shock I’m sure

I don’t care what anyone says, I was funny back then. My older brother said so which means it’s true

How much do you wanna bet this one wasn’t actually the last story? Don’t bet anything, it actually was, whoa :O I had a thing back then where I liked doing Animal House style epilogues so-

I promise there was context to all this. My self insert (Kari, of course) and the guy from the start, Joe, got to go to Kibblion and we inexplicably turned into alien weiner dogs ourselves. I think I handwaved this as “radiation”

My brother (Chris) got to be the villain who also survived Earth’s destruction and he had psychic powers just because.

the weiner dogs have a thing in their society about not eating animals unless they’re dangerous ones, hence them pulling bullshit like “oh this animal is tasty but not a threat? Oh- we’ll make it dangerous then :)”

Other names are just other random characters, mostly weiner dogs. but uhh yeah. There you go

the random shit I wrote back then. I promise I’ll dig out the truly old stuff but ohh my god looking back at this series was so funny. Maybe I could transcribe it all and post it to AO3. I already did that with some other old stories of mine which can be found here so. HmMM >:)

well lemme know what you think and I hope you enjoyed this ridiculous nostalgia trip

#sfl’s life #writing #my old writing #long post