#because no matter whether i make time for it or not it will happen

[mixingandmelting]

Secretly Admiring You Artistically

Summary: How he's expressing that you're in his mind through art

a/n: based on scenes in the comics as civilians

Dick: Doodles

He’s dying. Actively decaying in real-time. Why he brought back the notepad from his day job as an officer home or why Haley pulled it out from his bag and gave it to you, he has no idea. To make matters worse, he’s crouching on the ground with both hands covering his very-much burning face as you stand in front of him silently, flipping through each page that’s filled with doodles of you rather than work notes he should’ve been taking for the cases he’s working on.

 It isn’t an exaggeration to say his world revolves around you. He’s not ashamed or has any problem expressing how much of a simp he is for you whether it’s to you or everyone both verbally and physically, 24/7. Seriously, he can’t go a day without getting a kiss from you or telling you how much he loves you, no matter the situation. He’s constantly stuck to your side, always smiling from how you showered him with affection back, spoiling him silly to the point he’s thinking he’s the luckiest man in the world. But artistically? He drew a stick figure once during a game of Scribble. Tim was for sure that it was a basketball hanging on a fishing pole. Bruce had told him he can help him get enrolled for art classes. 

“So, did the sarge or corporal see any of this yet?”

“No…,” He manages to wheeze out. He needs the ground to swallow him up right now. He still can’t believe this is how his (poorly and very much terribly drawn) doodles of you are discovered and exposed to you of all people. When he hears the notepad being closed shut, he musters all the strength in his mind and body. “...Can I please have my notepad back now?” He knows the answer. And he knows what’s about to happen next. But maybe today he’ll be lucky he’ll get it back- 

“Nope.” The way you pop the “p” at the end of the word - of course you wouldn’t. He doesn’t even need to look at you to know the type of grin you have on your face.

With that, he gets up and yells your name as he gets up to chase after your running form. Sure, he’s dreading what exactly you might do with the doodles but his heart is filled with adoration and warmth from how he still managed to give you happiness from them. You are the most lovable person in the world to him - he can’t wait to kiss the ever living lights out of you when he gets you.

Jason: Poetry

Oh. Well. This is embarrassing.  He rubs the back of his neck, face completely dyed red. You snuggling your face into the crook of his neck while embracing his biceps is fine. In fact, he loves waking up to see you sleeping peacefully next to him. His heart always swells with affection from how you feel so warm and right in his arms while being reminded how you genuinely enjoyed and appreciate him and his presence.  The problem was the book lying open on the coffee table next to him. The book filled with romantic poems that he placed on his face after deciding to take a power nap which obviously ended up as a snooze session.

He had been reading each poem, using a sticky note and red pen (because he’s not a heathen to ruin such beautiful and sacred text) to mark which parts or lines reminded him of you the most. Each sticky note had arrows drawn with whatever note he’d make about you, placed on the long-edge of the pages. It was obvious you had found out the contents of the book before joining him on the sofa as you had done the same, only your sticky notes were sticking out from the shorter-edge. 

“Jason… What’s wrong?” He quickly turns his head away, covering the lower half of his face. The fact you aren’t even letting go when you usually would makes things worse, especially when he feels the grip on his arm tightening rather than the opposite. He doesn’t need to turn around to see what expression you’re making, feeling you nuzzle into his side.

“...Are you telling Roy or the others about this?” 

“What? Hell no. This is only for you and me- why would I want to share it?”

With that, he topples over you and wraps himself around you like a giant, warm teddy bear. On top of relief, he’s filled with childish glee from getting to share something that’ll only be meant between you and him. It gets a chuckle from him when you laugh at how ticklish he makes you as he snuggles into you, eventually making you two fall asleep in each other’s embrace with smiles on your faces.

Tim: Photography

He’s pacing in circles in his room. Then he’s flopping onto his bed and screaming into his pillow. Pacing in the room. And again, screaming into his pillow. He’s been repeating this exact pattern for ten minutes straight now after finding the photo album on his desk. How Stephanie found out about them or why she showed them to you when you stopped by while he was out, he doesn’t know nor want to know. But he’s pretty sure  that he's doomed. Best case scenario is break up. Worst case scenario is you choosing to never see him again because you found him creepy. 

But, it’s not his fault, okay? He’s really down bad for you. Even when he’s dating you, he keeps finding himself falling for you deeper and deeper to the point he doesn't want to miss a single moment whenever he’s with you. So, every time the two of you went on dates or plainly hung out, he’d take pictures of you. You standing on a hill during a sunset, looking outside with the window down in his car, laughing in front of a bonfire with a marshmallow on a stick in your hands. He can’t imagine life without you. He needs to be with you even if it’s in a photo. 

Finally, he  gets back up and dejectedly drags his feet to the desk. Might as well put the album away before more people find out about it. Or so he thought when he suddenly freezes at the sight of a note sitting on top of it. There’s only a single sentence in your hand writing, making him do what it says. Having memorized the order of the photos in each album, he immediately finds a photo of him laughing while sitting on top of the hood of his car. It sits adjacent to a photo of you doing the same, making it look like the two of you were laughing while looking at each other. Heart skipping a beat with tears threatening to spill, he doesn’t look away when he grabs his phone and dials your number. 

“So? Are we hanging out tonight?” 

“No, we’re doing more than that. We’re going to go all out, my treat.” 

The way you chuckle does so many wonders to him. With that, he rushes to get ready. Even if he can’t give you the whole world now, he plans on making tonight the best night of your life since there’s no other way for him to express how much he loves you when words can’t cover half of them.

Duke: Notes

He’s an idiot. That’s what he mentally screams to himself when he drops the pile of handwritten notes right in front of you. Not once had he ever mentioned that he had collected all the notes you wrote and slid to him including the ones back before the two of you even got together. All of them were written as your way to cheer him on, sliding them to him in every way you possibly can. It’s as if nothing could stop you from passing him a note, whether it’s during class, passing in the hallways, eating lunch, or slipping them in his school bag. There were even times you managed to place them in his textbooks, right where the assigned reading starts.

All those notes you passed to him, he found solace. He feels that he’s being mentally and emotionally supported unconditionally, no matter the circumstances . You don’t know how he cherishes the smiley faces you draw on them or the words you write. Each and every note he treats like they are a piece of you. It led him to keep a few in his pocket, pulling one and reading it to get the extra boost he needs to get through whatever he’s doing even if it’s homework or patrolling the city. 

Now here he was, caught red handed. He’s so nervous and on the verge of a mental breakdown, fearing that you might think he’s strange. Immediately he starts to ramble, spewing every excuse in the book while watching you pick the notes that dropped from his pocket off the ground. 

“They were growing into a pile inside my bag, so I was kind of in the middle of-”

“Do they work?”

He stops and blinks at you. What do you mean they work? There’s a light blush coloring your cheeks, your hands gently straightening each note to stop them from wrinkling and getting damaged further. 

“Are they making you happy?”  Oh. Oh. He pulls you into a strong hug, hoping his actions convey how he feels about you. It’s not the notes that’s making him happy- it’s you and your efforts to make sure he is that makes him the happiest man in the world.

Damian: Sketching

No. Just no. He’s so embarrassed that he can’t muster a single word right now. You were teasing him a minute ago about how he must have sketches of you when he refused to show you his notepad he carries around. Little did you know and much to his horror, you were completely right and that exactly was the reason why he didn’t want to show it to you. In fact, he had been finishing another sketch of you before your so-called attempt to sneak up on him. You being you, you kept probing him into showing his sketches and with him being so flustered, he ended up getting the notepad snatched out of his hand leading to the current situation where both of you are standing with the biggest blush to be seen from mankind. 

It’s not two sketches he’s drawn too. There’s a whole comic strip he drew in there featuring one of his favorite moments he had with you on top of all the other sketches, some being portraits, some being a compilation of various expressions you make on a daily basis. The way he’s constantly stuck about you has gotten to where Jon had gotten smug at guessing what he was thinking of when Jon found him suddenly grinning to himself. That day, the two of them got grounded by their parents once Damian started to threaten Superboy by getting kryptonite out and the other shot lasers out of his eyes as self defense. 

“They’re so beautiful.” Your muttering snaps him back to reality.

Not wasting a second, he grabs his notepad back. Pride damaged and completely panicked by showing a pathetic side to himself to you, he tries to go somewhere, anywhere, away from you. Only to stop when you grab his wrist. 

“Damian, you're absolutely talented.” 

He mentally groans. He hates how you’re sincere and genuine in these moments. You don’t know how much he treasures you because of this - being open, honest, and accepting of his every being. Worse is you not being aware or truly choosing your battles - it’s how you are; it’s part of your nature. Accepting his loss, he sits back down. He refuses to admit how affected he is by the way you smile with excitement when you pick up his sign. Letting his shoulder brush against yours, the two of you go through his drawings with you commenting on each one while he snarks back though it’s softer and filled with fondness.

[alaskan-wallflower]

doing research on vietnam and the draft to make actual historically accurate takes so here’s what i got

darry would’ve been drafted, however i believe he would’ve been able to opt out of it as the sole provider of money in the family (though im not sure—in 1970 president nixon set a law for fathers (ik darry isn’t a father but a legal guardian hence why idk if this would work) to prove why their absence would have been dangerous within the family-ill have to find out what year(s) jan 5 was called tho)

edit: also darry would’ve been called to fight in 1969 before the law nixon set in place…BUT if you think about it, the chronic back pain he suffers could’ve been a possible way for him to be exempt (i think he’d play up whatever cards he could to make sure he didn’t have to go-idk i feel like that’s more in character than him just leaving. i think he’d make every effort to stay and i think he could’ve made it work)

edit 2: darry would have been exempt due to his chronic back pain—“any injury that would impair someone’s full efficiency as a soldier will be exempt” (he also wouldn’t have made it through any boot camp activities either with the pain)

soda wouldn’t have been drafted

ponyboy would’ve been but he actually would’ve been exempt because he would be in college at that time-a full time college student was exempt (though i suppose it also depends on whether you think the events happened in ‘64 or ‘67 but regardless the draft ended in 1973 so idk if it would matter either way since pony would’ve graduated in either ‘72 or ‘75 anyway—i don’t think july 22 was called in ‘72 or ‘73)

edit: the draft for july 22nd was called in 1969, when pony would’ve been a full time college student (or in the case of choosing the musical timeline he would’ve been a junior or senior in high school, so regardless pony would have been exempt from the war because he would’ve been a full time college student in ‘69 or he would still be in high school)

johnny would’ve been drafted if he lived , however he would’ve been physically handicapped (unable to walk) and unable to fight anyway so he would’ve been exempt

dally would’ve been drafted with no way out (unless you wish to count if he had gotten shot and lived, in which case the area he would’ve been shot in would probably be the determining factor in if he was drafted or not)

edit: due to dallas’ criminal record i don’t think he’d have been eligible (though it’s hard to tell since his crimes (as far as i know) are all mild misdemeanors (petty theft, driving w/out a license, stuff like that) so idk if that would leave him exempt or not—there’s nothing online saying either way so idk—all that i’ve read is that you can sign a plea waiver but there were felons who fought in vietnam, so im not sure if he would’ve been exempt—but regardless thanks @curlyshepardconfirmed!

two bit would not have been drafted

steve would not have been drafted

tim would not have been drafted either

so realistically the only one who would’ve been drafted if he lived would be dally , depending on the route you wish to go on with him

hope this helps 👍

[gem-de-lune]

Daily Vibe Check 11/28

Seunghan

7 of Wands + 2 of Pentacles + Hyerophant

It appears that maybe some sort of negotiations have started. He is taking a firm but flexible approach and being smart about it. But all these signs point to "work" or something related to the matter. Also an emphasis on paper so maybe contracts. He is not being difficult or defiant but very calm and mature. As stated many times before, he understands his situation well and at this point is at a place where he takes everything very well for what it is. This may be the beginning of or the early talks of something significant that has already been brewing with upper management and is just now getting to him. He is doing well, though, regardless. His energy is very bright and goofy today.

Was he at the park with Eunseok and Wonbin?

The Emperor + Knave of Swords [8 of Wands- extra verification]

This is a yes- and specifically, I do think he may have instigated the contact via Wonbin, and Eunseok was also available to tag along. Very energetic and exciteable vibes. The page is kinda childlike, which is funny when you take in the photos. It seems Wonbin took the pics for Seunghan's update. Separately, it seems they may have also had a long chat about everything, though, in a lighthearted, less heavy manner.

Sungchan

The Moon + 7 of Chalices [10 of Chalices - relation to recent news of SM conspiracies investigations]

Today, we are reading on Sungchan since it's been a while. He is sitting in this cloudy, confusing, maybe scattered energy. Like "idk what to think" vibes. Very weird so I did ask if it was recent news about SM's bot buying and or the national assembly being interested in Seunghan's case weighing on his mind and got the 10 of Chalices for a yes. It seems family is a big theme- whether he believes this is referring to SM fam or Riize in particular (I think both) it seems he is a bit concerned about what sort of things vould come out if it were this bad for his own group. I think he is deeply curious and interested in seeing how it plays out. This is taking up a large space in his brain like hyperfixation. Very virgo of him, lol.

Recent SM News (the bot buying to spread internal rumors)

Knave of Pentacles + The High Priestess [Ace of Wands - results]

It seems that there may be validity to the rumors. Whatever the truth is- it is going to get found out at some point- I think sooner than expected despite these cards due to the Ace of Wands I pulled for the results of the Assembly's investigation (which btw is on SM's practices as a whole, not specifically Seunghan's case- though this is the catalyst for everything about to happen). It seems that even without the investigation, a lot will be known and revealed by chance. But with this development, it will allow the opportunity to make some corrections/a new path. This will be SM's last chance to not be even more embarrassed.

Will this development raise the chances of Seunghan returning?

Strength + 5 of Pentacles

So YES, it is going to take us over several more public hurdles of perception and acceptance in particular- however I think we will have to be realistic and monitor our expectations eith this because a lot of things may just not be 100% in regards to Riize. As in this investigation is looking into allll of SM not just Riize- and if we are annoyed and all fussy because they start talking about things that are not immediately in correlation to Riize and give us validation, we may miss the facts and may miss points that ARE in correlation that we should be looking into ourselves. It's like stepping over and ignoring a platinum mine because your map said you should be looking for a gold mine and you weren't aware of the value. So be mindful as things may start to come out, even if it seems for a second that nothing is setting our purpose- it def is.

Final Notes:

I remember for the past, like week or so, I have been saying I am waiting for something significant (not the week thing, but something else). It's like a feeling that something is going to blow up or CLICK. I almost thought it was here, but noo, it's like a prequel. Something crazy is coming idk but you heard it here first. It will be a click* feeling.

Other than that, I want to remind yall that Riize said Riize is 7, and that is all the motivation you should need. Thank you.

[hrrtshape]

LET'S TALK ABOUT SHIFTING DOUBTS 𖥔

this post may or may not be for you—the dreamers, the believers, the escapists who know shifting is real but still feel a pang of doubt every now and then. let’s just get it out there: it’s OKAY to feel doubtful. it’s human. it doesn’t mean you’re failing, and it doesn’t mean you’ll never shift. you do, every second. sometimes, no matter how deeply we trust the process, those little seeds of “what if?” creep in—and that’s valid.

we're often told to reaffirm, reaffirm, reaffirm, and while affirmations are a beautiful, powerful tool, let’s not pretend they don’t take energy. if you're someone who uses shifting as an escape, constantly pushing yourself with affirmations can start to feel like running on empty. waking up in your cr is often brushed under the rug with the constant persistence of saying, “i did shift,” (you did) and i think it’s time to reflect on how that can lead to burnout—especially if you’re already emotionally betting a lot on shifting. it’s not about if you’ll shift—it’s about how frustrating it can feel when reality doesn’t immediately reflect your desires.

and here’s the thing: you’re allowed to rest. you’re allowed to sit in your doubt without judgment. you’re allowed to say, “today, i feel a little stuck. i feel sad. i'm disappointed.” recognising those feelings doesn’t weaken your ability to shift. in fact, it makes you stronger, because you’re honouring your emotions instead of fighting them.

shifting is effortless. it happens every second, whether you're hyper-aware of it or not. you don’t have to be in a constant state of “i’m shifting tonight” to shift. sometimes, the best thing you can do is just exist—no pressure, no expectations, just letting yourself feel whatever comes naturally.

give yourself grace.

take a breath.

remember: your dr is already yours. whether or not you wake up there tomorrow, it’s still real. you're still there.

you’re not failing. you’re not behind. shifting isn’t a race; it’s an act of love—love for yourself, love for the life you’re building, and love for the many versions of you that already exist.

take this as your reminder that you’re magic, even on the days you don’t feel it. and when you do wake up in your dr (because you will, no matter what), it’ll be exactly as perfect as you’ve always imagined. trust me, you've got this.

[heeseungiez]

nothing i don’t have | pjs

part 2: support our son

pairings! park jongseong x reader, ft. huening kai x reader

summary! it was supposed to be simple, you and jay would fuck whenever either of you felt horny — no feelings. but it was hard not to catch feelings where park jongseong was involved. so you took the easy way out: you ended it.

genre! texts, written fic, college au, love triangle (corner)

word count! 1k

content warnings! swearing

author's note! i'm still trying to figure out what app/site to make the texts on so if anyone has a good suggestion please help please i'm struggling

previous | masterlist | next

You used to come over to Jay’s place nearly every other day. But it had been two weeks, and you were nowhere to be seen. It was to the point that Heeseung, Jake and Sunghoon began asking if you would ever come over again, to which Jay was forced to answer that you were probably hanging out with Huening Kai. He didn’t know your actual whereabouts most of the time, but he guessed. Which made him internally cringe every time.

What he disliked the most, however, was his incessant urge to text you whenever the smallest inconvenient thing happened in his day. He was sure you would very likely reply, but he was scared of what it would be like now that the dynamic of your relationship changed. It should probably be the same, but what if your voice over text changed because now you were seeing someone else?

Jay wasn’t fond of the idea in the slightest. Did you even really like Huening Kai? Who the fuck was he to take you away from Jay? (Yet you weren’t his to begin with.) He missed you, but he could hardly voice it out to himself, let alone you.

The day he nearly killed a man on the spot was when he saw you and Huening Kai walking side by side on campus. It wasn’t just that, actually, because the two of you were holding hands, and you were laughing about something Kai had said. It was even worse because he was clearly walking you to class — a class that you shared with Jay. So you were bound to cross paths, and no matter how hard Jay tried to slow his pace down, you still managed to notice him.

“Oh, hey, Jay!” you called him over with a smile on your face. It was brighter than he remembered, and he couldn’t figure out if it was just his brain playing tricks, or whether you were genuinely happier than he had ever seen you before. “You know Kai, right?” you asked innocently, but it only brought back Jay’s anger from the Sanctuary Café.

Heeseung just wanted to take Jay out to an open mic. Neither of them knew that it would also be the day of your first date with Huening Kai. Jay hated every second of being there, but to you, it must’ve been an unforgettable night.

“And Kai, this is Jay,” you said with a smile, pointing at him.

“I’ve heard a lot about you.” Kai stretched out his hand forward, but the gaze with which he beheld Jay told him that he knew everything about you and Jay. That you gave him every single gory detail of what had been going on before the two of you began dating, and that made Jay even more furious. Because he refused to acknowledge any other emotion he felt.

He ignored the tightness in his chest as he shook Kai’s hand with a nod. “I’ve heard nothing about you,” Jay replied, not lying, because he genuinely knew nothing about Kai besides the few pieces of gossip and what Heeseung divulged some time ago. Kai wasn’t surprised by that information at all. You hadn’t told Jay anything about him either.

“We have to get to class, but I’ll see you later, yeah?” You looked at Kai with such admiration in your eyes that Jay wanted to step between the both of you and push Kai out of the way. But he couldn’t do it. All he could do was stand and watch and constantly clench and unclench his fists.

“Yeah, of course,” Kai replied, bending down to kiss your temple, but you grabbed the collar of his band tee and brought his mouth down to your lips. Kai let out an involuntary giggle as it happened, and Jay had to abruptly turn away, incapable of not rolling his eyes.

“Bye,” you mumbled quietly, a soft smile decorating your lips.

“Band practice starts at five.”

“I know, Kai,” you laughed and shook your head. “I’ll be there. We need to support our son.”

Jay furrowed his brows, but with Kai’s knowing grin and playful roll of his eyes, neither of you was going to elaborate on what you actually mean.

Your son?

And yet that was the first thing Jay asked about once Kai was finally leaving you alone, his back turned to the two of you. “Your son? The fuck happened in the last two weeks?”

You chuckled at Jay’s confusion, an amused look brightening up your features. “Yujin’s still in high school,” you said, shaking your head. “The keyboardist. If you remember him. He’s actually just started his second year.”

“So you call him your son?”

“Yeah, he’s the whole band’s son. And mine, now.” You grinned proudly, just thinking about Yujin. “Anyways, I’m sorry I haven’t been in contact much lately, but I’m still getting used to this whole new dynamic of me having a boyfriend and all that.”

“Oh, you’re official already?”

“I’d hope so,” you said, shrugging. “What about you? Any new conquests lately? Surely, you already found someone else? Maybe you’ve already had someone on your roster, you know, that kinda stuff.” 

If Jay wasn’t too busy cringing at your words, he’d probably notice how tense your tone was, and how much you hated saying them, but he didn’t. All he heard was that you really didn’t care about him any more than a casual fuck and perhaps a somewhat close friend. 

“Nah, not really,” Jay replied anyway. “I’m actually kinda… I don’t know. Haven’t felt like doing much lately.”

“Right. So just you and Jane?” you asked teasingly.

“What?” And maybe it should’ve hit Jay instantly that you were speaking of his guitar, but instead he thought that you were suggesting he really was with somebody else already, and he did not like that. “Oh.” He realised moments later.

“Yeah. I guess you could say that.” He nodded. Jay had to count all his small victories of today among the losses, too, however, because you were actively speaking to him finally. And not just that — you sat down next to him in class.

tags: (send an ask or comment to be added!) @moonpri @addictedtohobi

[pazories]

A little analysis of Solas

I love the fact that in the art book Solas wanted to transform his followers into spirits without them knowing, because he saw it as giving them freedom he himself was denied to have, yet in doing so he only would’ve repeated the cycle of abuse.

That is what Inquisitor must’ve show him - that he must give his people a choice, whether it for better or for worse.

Spirits are stagnant creatures, but the modern people of Thedas aren’t. They change every day, the world changes every day, and we, as mortals, don’t have a privilege of drowning in our regrets for thousands of years. We live now, we have a very short lives to get our shit together.

The time in the Inquisition was healing for Solas and proving him wrong, because he saw how the ones he called tranquil fought for their rights, their lives, their freedom, fully knowing that it is unlikely they see any of the changes for which they contributed so hard. They did it because it was a right thing to do and because they wanted their children to live better lives, even if they never get to see it. Sounds familiar for Solas, huh?

He could never unsee that the modern people are people indeed, but he proceeded with his plan for very personal, selfish reason. In his eyes, bringing the elves back to their “original” form was his way to atone for his crimes, but in reality it was a massive projection. He could never undo the abuse he endured, hells he barely even saw what Mythal did to him as an abuse, so he tried to cope with it by resetting the world to its default state, where nothing bad ever happened to him. Would it heal him to get back in the past? No. But he doesn’t understand it, because he was so blinded by his shame, guilt and trauma that he didn’t saw the other way. He had stuck in the mindset of never having a choice, he repeats it time and time again.

But we know he has it!

We, as players, should’ve show him the beauty of this imperfect, deeply flawed world, that still deserved to exist and move forward. As this world, he deserved it too, despite the mistakes he made in the past. Because the ability to adapt, to change, to move forward, to find happiness even if we never get to be our old selves again, is what ultimately makes us human (elven, dwarven?).

This is why I always make Cole more human. It’s an unpopular decision among Solasmancers and Solas fans in general, but I love to confront him, especially in this case. Cole changed, but he stayed the same in the way it matters - he’s still compassionate and kind and loves to help people.

Solas is the same. Still wise and kind and wants the better for his people.

And I sure as hell don’t think he needs his abuser to say ‘you’re free’ to heal.

[rita-repulsa-ke]

Reincarnation

"So, reincarnation."

"Yes?"

"How does it work?"

"No idea."

"…What do you mean, no idea?"

"Not my area. People die, then they get reborn. I only handle the first part."

"But I have been other people?"

"Your soul has been other people. You've only ever been yourself."

"So can you tell who my soul has been?"

"Nope."

"Hmm. So when I die and get reincarnated, you won't be able to find me?"

"Oh. No. Wait, did you want me to??"

"…Stop looking at me like that."

"That's very romantic, beloved."

"I was just, I was only curious."

"You won't have to worry about it anyway."

"What? Wait, why?"

"Um. No reason. Nothing. Forget I said that."

"Rioooo."

"…sacred mystery?"

"You cannot say that every time you don't want to answer a question. Real answer, please."

"…Not everyone is reincarnated."

"Now we're getting somewhere. So what happens to them?"

"That actually is a sacred mystery, Ags."

"Fine. Who chooses whether they're reincarnated or not?"

"Same answer."

"Mmhmm. Why do you look so guilty about it? Is that also a sacred mystery?”

"I don't look guilty."

"My sweet, you are a terrible liar. Is it possible that you've got some say in the matter?"

"…maybe…"

"And you don't want me to be reincarnated because you would lose me? Something like that?"

"…are you going to call me creepy?”

“Maybe—wait, does that bother you?”

“Sometimes.”

“Oh! Well, in that case, definitely. I stopped because I thought that one wasn’t landing.”

“…Agatha.”

“You’re over here making choices about my afterlife. I can call you creepy.”

“…does it really bother you?”

“Would it change anything?”

“…”

“Creeeepy.”

“Beloved, can you, for once in your life, pretend you are capable of taking anything seriously?”

“Well, what if I said, with all seriousness, that I wanted to be reincarnated?”

“…don’t say that.”

“So you want me to be serious, but also only say what you want to hear?”

“…Yes?”

“Tell me what happens if I’m not reincarnated, then.”

“I can’t, it’s a—“

“Yeah, yeah. Sacred mystery. Will you be there?”

“Yes.”

“…Good enough, then. I’ll take it—Whoa! Uh, hi, that was fast, did you want somethin—Rio, wait, I like this dress, don’t—“

“AgathaAgathaIloveyou.”

“Right, yes, I’m glad, but let’s calm dow—“

“Love, stop talking.”

Sometime much later

“Never mind. I’ve changed my mind. I want to be reincarnated.”

“…please tell me that is you not taking anything seriously again.”

“Could be.”

“Agatha…”

“An eternity of this, huh? …honestly, sounds pretty nice.”

“…”

“…did you just grow a tree? Just now?”

“I got excited. And I assume you don’t want to…”

“Again?? Noooo, no, I’m good. It’s a beautiful tree.”

“Ags, I really love you.”

“I know.”

“…”

“Heh. Love you.”

“Mm. Forever and ever.”

“…creepy.”

[thepascalparadox]

Chapter Three: Echoes of Us

Word Count | 2.1k Pairing | General Marcus Acacius x OC F!Reader Chapter Warnings | Don't want to spoil it but something more happens You awaken with a sense of determination, resolved to make the most of your day. And by “most,” you mean finding a way to know the General better.

Not in a romantic way, of course. No, he is to be nothing more than a good friend. When I become Domina, it is only practical to be close to the General of my army. Just friends, nothing more.

Yet, deep down, you know you're only deceiving yourself. You refuse to admit it, but perhaps it’s because he is the first man to truly catch your eye. He didn’t approach you with empty flattery, boasting about his victories or wealth. Instead, he was kind, thoughtful, attentive. That simple gesture—his letter and the flower—still lingered in your mind.

I must repay him in kind, you think, though your heart knows there is more to it.

“You asked for me, Father?” you say as you enter the room where the Emperor sits, surrounded by maps, documents, and the weight of his strategies.

“Oh, dearest, indeed,” he replies, his tone warm and familiar. “I am planning a hunt with the senators and the General. Knowing your fondness for the outdoors, I thought you might wish to join us.”

“Oh, I most certainly do! There are so many things I need to gather—fresh pigments for my paints, new flowers for the gardens… perhaps even a sketch or two of the countryside,” you exclaim, the excitement bubbling in your voice.

Your father chuckles at your enthusiasm but regards you carefully before continuing. “However, I’ve noticed how you seem… uneasy in Marcus’s presence. If that troubles you, feel no obligation to attend.”

“No, no, Father, I will gladly accompany you. As for the General—well, I barely know the man. But I must confess that I may have formed some unfair opinions about his character,” you say, your voice softer than intended, almost as if admitting it to yourself.

Your father tilts his head, his expression thoughtful. “I most heartily hope you’ll come to tolerate him, at the very least. He is a good man, Aurelia. In truth, for a time, I even considered proposing your hand to him.”

Your heart stumbles at his confession. This changes everything. You had always assumed that your father would marry you to one of the wretched senators—a man he despised the least. But the idea of Marcus...

“What made you change your mind?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper. Fear prickles at the edges of your thoughts. Perhaps the General is already married. The pang of jealousy that surges surprises you—a pang for a woman you don’t even know, and for a man who was never yours.

Compose yourself, you think. You wanted to be friends, remember?

Your father’s reply is steady, tinged with quiet regret. “The General seems... indifferent to love. He’s spoken of how he would never make a woman a wife only to leave her a widow. But as a friend—” he pauses, his expression softening, almost wistful, “I admit, I would like to see Acacius know the warmth of love someday.”

He rises from his chair, stepping closer to you. Gently, he takes your hands in his, lowering his head slightly to meet your gaze.

“As I wish for you, my daughter,” he continues. “I have delayed as long as I could, hoping you would find a man who would truly capture your heart. But I fear I must soon make that decision myself. I plan to announce your betrothal before Acacius departs for his next, and last campaign, I'm afraid.”

“His last campaign?” The words escape you before you can temper the concern in your voice. His tone lightens as he mimics the General’s voice with exaggerated solemnity: “‘After this campaign, I will find a place to rest—whether in the quiet fields of the interior or the Elysian Fields with the gods!’”

“Do not trouble yourself with such matters, Vita Mea. Not for a few weeks yet. There is still much to plan—strategies to devise, funds to raise, preparations to make.”

Your father chuckles, clearly amused by his own impersonation. “He’s quite the witty man, the General. Now, off with you, Aurelia. The hunt begins before the sun reaches its peak.”

You leave the room feeling... unsteady. The idea of the General departing pulls at you more than it should.

Perhaps he is one of those men burdened by unhappiness, shaped by the unrelenting hand of war, you muse.

And then, almost involuntarily, another thought slips through: I wish I could change his mind.

Perhaps you can.

You just don’t yet know how a friend might do such a thing. · · ───────── ·𖥸· ───────── · ·

You leave in a chariot with two other maids, but your thoughts are elsewhere. You wish Vera were with you. The two of you could have spent this time gossiping about your most recent discoveries regarding the General's life. Ever since the festivities a few nights ago, she has seemed distant, as though a veil has been drawn between you two. You saw her talking to a soldier earlier, but didn't think much of it. Was she with him today? The two ladies accompanying you are much older, and though their company is pleasant enough, they would undoubtedly slow you down.

"You shall stay here as I go fetch some flowers and things to make paint. I will not go far, and you'll be more comfortable waiting here," you tell them with a casual smile. They exchange looks of mild concern but nod in silent compliance, knowing better than to question the princess's command.

As you wander deeper into the familiar fields, the calmness of the space starts to settle over you. The flowers and the gentle breeze bring a sense of peace, almost as if your mother were right there beside you. You miss her terribly in moments like this, when your thoughts wander to what advice she would have given you—especially about how to approach the General. Is it proper for a lady to speak to a man like him? Is he truly worthy of your time? Since her death, you've rarely ventured out to the fields; your father, protective as ever, hasn't allowed you the same freedoms. You can see the years catching up with him, and the thought of disappointing him is enough to keep you in line.

The flowers here remind you of the days when your mother would bring you here to gather blossoms, to paint, to breathe freely. As you step carefully through the waist-high plants, the sight of a soldier ahead catches your eye. He’s standing near one of the poisonous trees your mother once warned you about, inspecting one of the fruits.

“You shouldn’t eat that, soldier!” you call out with a playful yet firm tone. He looks up, startled, as if he hadn’t expected anyone to approach, especially not you.

But as you draw closer, you realize this isn’t just any soldier.

“General Acacius,” you bow respectfully, surprised at how much you enjoy saying his name aloud. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“Oh, not at all, Lady Aemilia,” he replies, his voice soft but careful, as if unsure whether his words are too bold. “You are always a welcome sight.”

You feel your heart flutter at the compliment, and for a moment, you forget about your awkwardness.

“You are too generous, General,” you say, averting your gaze in a subtle gesture of shyness. "I must thank you for the flowers you gave me yesterday. They helped with the pain."

A shy smile plays at his lips, and he steps closer, his movements measured as if he's unsure of the boundaries. “I’m happy I could help, my lady,” he says with a small bow. “I am here to serve you.”

The words hang in the air for a moment, and you find your voice again. “I must also apologize for the way I’ve behaved—at the gardens, and again at the coliseum. I was not raised to treat anyone in such a manner, and I am truly sorry.”

His gaze softens, and for the first time, you see a hint of something else in his eyes—understanding.

“We can always start again, Gemma,” he says, his voice warm, offering his arm. “Will you do me the honor of accompanying me?”

You smile shyly, almost relieved, and nod as you accept his arm.

“Must I assume you were lost from my father and the senators?” you ask playfully, trying to ease the moment with a lighter question.

“Oh, not at all,” he replies, his tone light. “I was the one who got lost. They spoke of matters I have grown weary of hearing. I came back from a place where all I heard was suffering and war. I simply needed a change of scenery, something more peaceful.”

You listen intently, your heart softening. "I see. The Senate, and sometimes even my father, seem to speak only of war and conquest. I can only imagine how tedious it must be to hear the same things over and over again."

“Indeed,” he agrees, his tone thoughtful. “But tell me, Lady Aemilia, what brings you to the woods alone? You should be accompanied by at least five of your father's best men.”

You laugh softly. “I love the fields. My father never lets me come unless he’s with me, which doesn’t happen often enough.” There’s a touch of sadness in your voice, but you quickly shift to something lighter. “And, by the way, I wasn’t the one surprised by your presence. I know these corners as well as the palm of my hand,” you tease with a playful smile.

He laughs, a sound that you find endearing, and you notice how his steps slow just a little as he seems to ponder your words.

“I see, I see…” he says, avoiding your eyes now, looking instead at the ground ahead.

As you both walk, your maids come into view in the distance, talking distractedly among themselves.

How did he knew your maids were in this direction?

“You should not be walking alone, Lady Aurelia,” he says softly, his voice taking on a note of concern. Gently, he takes your hand in his, and with a subtle, almost imperceptible motion, his thumb traces small circles over your palm. “I shall return to your father’s side now. Please, promise me you will be safe.”

You look up at him, heart fluttering at his words, and nod. “I promise, soldier.”

Before he leaves, you add, almost as an afterthought, “You may call me Aemilia, General.”

His posture straightens, his hand brushing against the hilt of his sword as he meets your eyes. For a brief moment, there’s a warmth there, an understanding between the two of you. “And you may call me however you wish, my Lady,” he replies, with a slight bow.

You smile as he turns and walks away, his steps confident, as if he knows exactly where he’s going. But you are left standing still, with a sense that something has shifted between you—something both fragile and meaningful. · · ───────── ·𖥸· ───────── · ·

Sleep refused to find you, no matter what you tried. Every attempt to calm your mind—warm baths, reading, writing—had failed miserably. Thoughts of General Marcus Acacius consumed you, swirling endlessly. Had you been foolish to imagine his feelings extended beyond duty and respect? Could he truly not know how every fleeting touch of his lingered on your skin like a whispered secret? Frustrated and restless, you rose from your bed, determined to quiet your turmoil.

A walk shall fix the problem, you told yourself.

Donning a simple nightgown, you stepped into the dimly lit corridors of the palace. The chill of the marble floors sends a shiver through your bare feet, while the night breeze tangles your unbound hair. You don’t mind; the palace is cloaked in silence, its residents deep in slumber, save for the watchful eyes of the night guards stationed by the doors.

The gardens, bathed in pale moonlight, were your destination. As you reached a bench near the lake, you froze. Familiar eyes met yours in the half-light—his eyes. General Acacius sat there, looking as weary as you felt.

Him again?

"My lady," he said, standing quickly and bowing with graceful respect. "I wasn’t expecting to see you here. Shall I leave if you desire solitude?" His voice was rushed, and he looked prepared to vanish into the shadows.

"Oh, you mustn’t," you blurted, failing to suppress the desperation in your tone. "I mean—your presence is... welcome." Your cheeks burned as you fidgeted with the hem of your gown, suddenly acutely aware of how little fabric covered either of you. His tunic hung loosely over his frame, ending mid-thigh, and he shifted, seemingly just as self-conscious.

"Please, sit," he said softly, motioning to the bench beside him.

You hesitated but finally sat. The silence that followed teetered on the edge of comfort, broken only by the occasional rustle of leaves. Every so often, your shoulders brushed, and each accidental touch sent an unwelcome thrill through you.

"I must ask—"

"What are you—"

You both started at the same time, the shared interruption prompting a sheepish laugh. He gestured for you to speak first.

"What are you doing here, General Marcus Acacius?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, afraid your nerves would betray you.

"I... I struggle with sleep," he admitted. "The war—it clings to a man’s mind, even in peace."

"I’m sorry to hear that," you murmured. Conversation felt so much easier with others, but with him, every word felt monumental.

"And you, Serenissima Aemilia Aurelia?" His voice softened as he brushed your shoulder lightly, the touch unspoken reassurance. "What burdens your mind tonight?"

"Not something..." you began, "but someone."

His demeanor shifted, his brow furrowing as though your words had struck him. "Is it... a boy? One of the men trifling with your affections, my lady?"

Your breath hitched. You should be the one telling me.

"Excuse me?" he asked, leaning closer, clearly having heard your whispered protest.

Suddenly, emboldened by a rush of courage, you rose, facing him with defiance. Your chin lifted, and your voice rang steady. "I am the daughter of the great Emperor Antoninus Justus. I will not be treated as a mere bauble for amusement." You took a measured breath, but your resolve did not falter. "You may be the esteemed General of the Phoenix Legion, but you are still a guest in my home."

For a moment, you paused, softening your tone. "From the start, you have shown me kindness I never expected from a soldier, and I must admit..." Your voice dropped lower. "...my thoughts have been fixed upon you in a way they never have with any other man."

"My lady…" He rises, beginning to speak, but you swiftly cut him off, making him sit back. "I am not finished," you declare firmly. "I have guarded my heart, vowing never to give it to any man, for they seem to know only destruction and death," you add, your tone steady and resolute.

"However," you continued, lifting your chin again, "if your intentions are to make a fool of me, I must demand you cease at once—"

He rose so swiftly you stumbled back, but before you could register his movement, his hands were cradling your face. His lips brushed yours in a whisper of a kiss, soft and reverent. His voice trembled against your skin, more a breath than a word: "Amor mea."

The world stood still. You surrendered to the warmth of him, your hands instinctively finding his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart. But the kiss ended all too soon, and he pulled back, wide-eyed and almost startled by his own audacity.

"Forgive me," he stammered, his voice unsteady. "I don’t know what came over me—I’ve never—"

"You silly man, come here," you interrupted, seizing the fabric of his tunic and pulling him back to you. This time, he groaned against your lips, his restraint crumbling. His hands found your waist, firm yet gentle, pulling you flush against him as though afraid you’d vanish.

"We shouldn’t," he murmured against your skin, his lips tracing down to the curve of your neck. "We can’t, Aemilia."

But his actions betrayed his words as he nipped at your ear, sending a shiver through you.

"You’re the one saying this, yet here you are," you teased breathlessly, tangling your fingers in his curls. The low, defeated sound he made spurred you on, pulling him closer until it seemed nothing could separate you.

With a herculean effort, he drew away, his breathing ragged. "Carissima," he whispered, his voice pleading. "Please..."

The broken look in his eyes stung more than you cared to admit. You made a mistake. He kissed you so you would shut up. You faltered, your confidence waning. "You... you don’t want me?"

His hand shot out to grasp yours. "No, no, never think that," he said with fierce desperation. "My heart has belonged to you since the moment we met. It calls for you as the earth calls for the rain."

His words made you smile, and his answering smile was radiant. But his gaze darkened slightly as his eyes roamed your figure.

"It is not that I do not want you, Solis mea," he said, kissing the back of your hand tenderly. "It is that I want you far too much. And tonight, with so little between us..."

Your pulse quickened as his meaning sank in.

"Marcus..." you whispered, but he shook his head, cupping your face once more.

"You bring light to my darkest days, Aemilia. You bring joy where there was none. I am yours," he said simply, his forehead resting against yours. "Now and always."

And in that fragile, moonlit moment, you knew your heart was no longer your own. It belonged to him, as his belonged to you.

[pinkandpurple360]

yikes at that anon lecturing you, but especially at this part

Paying attention to Stolas language in Murder Family, fucked up context aside, he don't bring up consequences if Blitz didn't accept the trade neither mentioned his power to threat him to accept it either, he offered and even asked if it's fair, someone as powerful as Stolas could control Blitz easily, yet he doesn't and it shows a lot about his character, but of fucking course you all don't care about that, Stolas is a big meanie.

what is it with Stolas fans and acting like what he says is the only thing that matters in that scene? saying 'fucked up context aside' is just trying to sweep away the entire problem people have with that scene

the context is what makes it unfair. the context is the threat to make Blitzo accept the deal - Stolas knew Blitzo was in danger and couldn't think straight and kept the call going anyway. there was a literal threat to Blitzo's life that Stolas was leveraging to get him to agree. the context is also where the control comes in - Blitzo needs access to the book therefore Stolas has control over him, because Blitzo has significant reason to agree regardless of whether he wants to or not to be able to keep being able to eat and house both himself and Loona. this isn't that hard to understand; it's no different than a power difference between a tenant and a landlord. except Stolas is worse because he's literal royalty and Blitzo is part of a species considered less than dirt

and Blitzo especially has reason to think there will be consequences for saying no because Stolas is showing him through ignoring all the signs he's in danger on that phone call that he does not care for his wellbeing - he called when Blitzo's life was in danger and he knew that full well. there's no 'yeah but'-ing to get out of that one. saying 'well Stolas could have been way more overt with his control!' is not a defense. Stolas is such a malicious abuser because he's the one person in the cast who isn't a mustache-twirling silent movie villain about it, because he'll do things like say 'sound fair?' when everything about the situation is weighted in his favor. this part is basically saying 'he could have been super obvious about how he was going to force Blitzo into sex but because he tried to pretend like he was being fair (even when he blatantly wasn't) that shows what a good person he is!'

also this:

This misconception you all have that Stolitz fans think all this needs to happen is Blitz to confess, and that Stolas has nothing more to improve is just wrong. Just plain wrong. I love both of these characters and I hate seeing an enormous mischaracterization of both.

I personally haven't seen the (remaining) Stolitz shippers saying this for one simple reason: I avoid their spaces. I don't like seeing posts similar to anon's where anything Stolas does wrong is the result of a misunderstanding or just Blitzo taking it badly because he's insecure or something, or worse where the very obvious signifiers of abuse on Stolas' part are handwaved away. I know that stuff will bug me so I avoid it

but anon clearly doesn't abide by the same rules. they're so bothered by a 'mischaracterization' of their faves that they're marching into people's inboxes to write long screeds about how antis are just missing the point or whatever else.

if there's only one anon or several my advice is the same: stay out of anti spaces. you clearly can't handle it and you need to stop making it everyone else's problem. if this ramping up of pestering people is some strange attempt to shut down criticism of the next ep before it even drops, you're wasting your time. the view counts on helluva show it's turned off a lot of people and you can't debate someone back into loving something that's let them down too many times

just go enjoy the show in your own spaces and block tags/people whose takes you don't want to see. trying to police people's critiques on helluva is both a losing battle and a waste of time

“Stolas is great if you just pay attention to his sad backstory and try not to think about the bad stuff he did. And attribute all the bad stuff to Blitz being a mentally ill tsundere”

Any time I am exposed to a owlizard shipper it’s always against my will despite my best efforts, because they are absolutely everywhere. The creator of the show is one of them, the entire show was thrown out to instead be catered to them and their headcanons. They make up almost the entire fan space and in fact shippers write and animate the very show itself.

But it’s still not good enough? They still have to rant about people that aren’t on their team?

[friendofthecrows]

Hate that I already have so many projects and so little time >:(

I want to do a murder mystery themed tarot deck, bc I love tarot and love murder mysteries. And I have SO MANY associations with various mysteries/elements, motifs, or characters from said mysteries that you could give me ANY theme and I'd have something it reminds me of from one of those shows/books/etc.

Like it would be 90% an extended major arcana, and not follow the traditional tarot structure well, technically making them oracle cards. But I don't like how most oracle cards look with the meaning written out in one little sentence at the base or on the back, I'd prefer the meanings to 1. be more complex, interpretable, and LESS universally applicable 2. be in a separate guidebook or be completely left up to personal interpretation. Plus, I might follow the traditional tarot structure a bit if I find enough parallels. All the decks I have are tarot decks not oracle cards, bc I just find the general aesthetic + the short, universally applicable meanings appalling (for my own use, no judgement on people who like them). Like it feels like fortune cookies, no matter what's happening in your life you could say the fortune fits, and I, personally, hate that. I wish someone would make oracle cards that are more nuanced, detailed, complex, and interpretable. So anyways, I want to.

But I have absolutely no time for that so it's going to end up on my infinitely long project waitlist. Probably right after the paper project, which could work out well if I actually got to them, since I could make the cards on the fancy paper. I'd make a paper that is specifically perfect for cards, and possibly try to work in some intent, enchant it, or mix in herbs that correspond with divination or psychic ability. It'd be pretty cool :)

[frankiebirds]

I love this scene a lot and it lives in my head rent-free. I can't really think of another way to interpret it other than that this is elle telling reid that the reason he can't get a date isn't because of something wrong with him that he needs to change but simply because he doesn't ask people out (or, more broadly, lacks confidence).

I have seen some spencelle shippers read this as elle saying "hey. ask me out" but i disagree, not because i don't ship spencelle (i sort of do, elaboration in the notes) but for the following reasons:

I think elle would have realised very early on that if she was going to wait for reid to ask her out, she would be waiting years

i don't think she gives enough of a fuck about gender roles to wait for The Man to ask her out

she generally seems confident

i lean more towards her being very new to the BAU in the early episodes. I don't recall right now if there's an official anti-fraternization policy or if that's a fanfiction trope, but even if there isn't, entering a relationship with a coworker that early on is an easy way to mess up her career.

i think she was waiting until she was more established to start anything, but then, well, everything happened, and she left before becoming established enough to feel comfortable taking a risk like that

[orcelito]

Actually, on the topic of the baby fever. God it's so frustrating. Bc when I was like 14 ish I was Adamant that I never ever wanted kids. And my dad said smth around the lines of "that'll likely change" (probably from his own experience with this) and I was like NO. it WONT.

And then eventually, age 21-22 ish, I admitted that Okay, I still don't want to have my own kids, but someday maybe I'll adopt...

And Now, 27 years old, I got the general baby fever on occasion. It Did fucking change. And I don't know if I actually WILL bother with having my own kid (I still don't want to go through the hassle and massive body changes). But god. I do see a fucking baby and feel that stab of longing. It's almost like my damned hormones betrayed me or smth. Maddening!

I shall simply write fanfic about it.

[ckret2]

Hello! I wanted to ask if you are still into hazbin hotel? I just finished reading your fic “A Cold Day In Hell” and I wanted to make art for it if you’re alright with that?

I'm always alright with anyone making art for all my fics at all times! Go right ahead, I'd be thrilled!!

[polysyndetonaddictsupportgroup]

How do you imagine the conversation between Megumi and Gojo when kid Megumi tries to tell him of the Zenin’s abuse would go? What would be the last nail that convinces Megumi that it’s pointless and that they know but don’t care? Is what happened going to be talked about in sea glass garden?

It’s probably not going to be discussed in sea glass gardens.

I’ve been turning it over in my head again and again, and the limitation is really Yuuta’s POV. I don’t see Megumi confessing what happened back then to anyone, especially considering how he was just retraumatized by the Zenin. At the same time, I don’t like the idea of it coming out of anyone but megumi. It’s an intensely personal thing to him. I don’t like the character implications it would have if other people told Yuuta about it behind his back. So it probably just won’t come out in this fic. If I do end up making it a series, it may come out there.

I imagine that when Megumi told him, it was the worst possible time.

Gojo would have had to have been at absolute peak burnout. Like, he hasn’t had a break in a week, let alone slept style burnout. He was a teenager who was mentally and physically exhausted and in a moment where he honestly, desperately wanted to be a kid again.

He had just fielded endless demands from a lot of people more than twice his age who were all very angry at him at all moments for no discernible reason while they sent him off to do the work of a hundred sorcerers without any real support or help. He didn’t even have one of the assistants to help—why would he need someone to drive him? He can teleport. Why would he need someone to do the veil for him? He can manage that and the job.

And I want to emphasize that all of this was a very targeted scheme by the higher ups. This won’t be in the fic (again, because Yuuta’s limited POV), but in my mind, before Yaga brokered the deal with the Zenin having partial custody, negotiations about Megumi’s care (re: gojo loudly shouting that he’s not giving him back while the Zenin threaten war to secure his immediate and absolute return with no further contact from gojo) deteriorated to the pint where Nanami, Shoko, and Gojo straight up fucked off with the kids.

Megumi and tsumiki still think it was just a vacation gojo randomly decided they all needed, but they were actually low key fleeing the country to maintain custody. Fleeing used incredibly loosely, because gojo could take the Zenin clan in a fight. But it had gotten to the point where the Zenin were going to fuck around and find out, and gojo was faced with the option of 1) just start killing whoever shows up to try to reclaim megumi by force or 2) not being there when they show up. He chose door number 2.

This had an unintended consequence they all didn’t realize, which was forcing the higher ups to contemplate a world where they lost control of the three of them.

Nanami was less important to them compared to how the other two were, just because he was still a student, wasn’t even a first grade yet, and didn’t seem to have anything particularly special about him on his face. But Shoko was the only healer they had and Gojo was, well, Gojo. They were impossibly valuable assets to the jujutsu world that they couldn’t lose.

Now, the sane thing to do is to actually take steps to make their employment one they wanted to actually stay in. The higher ups are not sane. They did not pick the sane route. Instead, they tried to find ways to make sure they couldn’t leave again.

The approach they took to Gojo was basically that idea of the elephant tied up to a stick—train him young, break him young, and he won’t realize that he can rip the stick clean out of the ground without any effort at all. They wanted him eternally exhausted, off kilter, and seeking approval he wasn’t getting. He couldn’t have time to seek out a life outside of the jujutsu world, because that would give him options the higher ups did not want him having. Then, when he was ready to break, they could start rewarding him and affirming him and chain his happiness to them. He had to be second guessed at every turn and rewarded when he did what the higher ups wanted. Treat him like an infant when it comes to decision making but an adult when it comes to evaluating him.

That is to say that Gojo’s mindset when this was happening was not just simply “he was tired and frustrated.” A group of extremely manipulative, extremely dangerous people all got together and made a comprehensive plan to break him, and they had been executing it for a while then. He was a child. And he wasn’t the Gojo Satoru that we meet in season 1 yet.

The Gojo Satoru that he grew up to be was a product in great deal because of this time in his life, when he was overwhelmed, exhausted, and had what little of his childhood he had left taken away from him by a bunch of greedy old fucks. He became the protector that he didn’t have growing up.

The other thing feeding into his mindset was the fact that the Zenin had not fucking taken this custody agreement with grace.

Like. Any compromise was an insult to them. It was bad enough that the ten shadows had lived outside of the jujutsu world for his entire childhood thus far—the idea that he spent most of his time with gojo instead of them was unbearable. They wanted Megumi in the Zenin compound, being raised in the Zenin manner, following Zenin traditions and taking the Zenin name. The only reason why they accepted the partial custody offer was because the Zenin leadership knew it was the best deal they were going to get.

It was a political game. Under no circumstances could they just shrug and let the Ten Shadows be raised by their enemies without a fight. They’d go down in history books as the failures who went and lost another ten shadows after they just came off the death of the previous one, to their sworn enemy no less. And that’s only if the more opportunistic members of the clan didn’t take this failure as a chance to unseat their authority entirely. They had to bring megumi back into the clan somehow.

They also knew they could all fight Gojo and still lose. Which would be a definitive humiliation in the eyes of the jujutsu world. Trying to take megumi by force was just. An absolute last resort.

Gojo wasn’t budging on keeping Megumi with him for his primary care. It wasn’t happening. But partial custody gave them the win of returning him to the clan, even if it was only for a short while.

It also gave them the wiggle room to try to get more time with him.

They have in roads with the higher ups. And they know how much work Gojo gets. They know gojos completely overwhelmed and as vulnerable as someone like him ever gets.

They had gotten an inch, and they wanted a mile. So they were pushing too.

Constantly, endless haranguing for a new custody arrangement that gave them more time with Megumi. They wanted every two weeks instead of every month. Then every week. Actually you know what? They should just change it from weekends entirely—they get megumi for a week every month instead of a weekend. 50/50 custody. Actually? Gojos so goddamn busy, and megumi can spend so much time getting care from his family if he’s with the Zenin. They should get primary custody, and maybe gojo can visit when he’s less busy.

It was a moment where Gojo felt like he was barely holding together the arrangement they did have as it was. He had to go intervene the last three times that someone else tried to pick megumi up because the Zenin straight up would not let him get in the car unless Gojo was there to force them to. He fought so fucking hard to keep megumi with his sister 98% of the time, and this, this was the only agreement that got the Zenin to stop trying to light his fucking dorm on fire, and he was fighting tooth and nail to keep it from getting anywhere past that. The Zenin were exhausting him, and he was of the mind that it was either this or kill them all and he was trying to not kill them all. This was it. It was the best they could fucking do. He was trying to not go the route of mass murder like some people, and that apparently involved some fucking compromises.

That’s the mindset he was in when Megumi told him that he never wanted to go back to the Zenin again.

And I want to emphasize that from megumi's perspective, this was a huge act of vulnerability. particularly in light of the fact that he walked into the meeting half convinced that gojo already knew.

It wasn't because of anything Gojo did, per se. It wasn't even a judgment on whether gojo would let this go on. It was just because Gojo seemed to know everything.

It was the six eyes. They were too young to understand what it let him do, fully, and he always seemed to see and know everything. The teen parenting trio teased them about it, sometimes, not in a mean way--just in the sort of way where you tell a little kid that santa can see them being naughty. Gojo sees everything, including Megumi sneaking his book under his covers to read past his bedtime.

but this left megumi with the mistaken impression that Gojo had to know from the start. This impression had been reinforced by the Zenin (mostly Naoya) who were purposefully misleading him about Gojo already knowing and approving of what they did to him.

Megumi also just wasn't a kid who was in a habit for asking for help. Especially when he thought he wasn't getting it.

He grew up in really unstable circumstances with no adult he could rely on. His dad canonically would just go out and find a sugar mama between killing people, and I see a lot of them as resenting the baggage that was Megumi and treating him a little cruelly. He didn't remember it all that well back then, and he completely forgot it by the time he was a teenager, but he had a lot of reasons to distrust the adults in charge of him. And even as a kid, he was pretty stoic. he was not about to cry and beg for help when it was. not. coming.

Asking Gojo for help anyway was probably the biggest act of trust and vulnerability that Megumi was capable of, back then. He was saying that he trusted that Gojo cared about him and wanted to protect him to go against what his entire way of living thus far was telling him to do.

And it took a grenade to their relationship when it went bad.

I think that Megumi and Gojo remembered the conversation differently immediately after they had it. And that Gojo remembered it differently from how he initially did after he learned the truth.

It's just the natural bias of human memory. They both walked into the conversation with different understandings and preconceptions and that colored what jumped out to them.

In megumi's mind, he told Gojo all the important parts, the bad parts, the parts that meant that Gojo shouldn't keep sending him back there. he told them that he didn't like it there, that he was always getting hit there, that they were always touching him and making him wear weird clothes and wouldn't call him his name no matter how many times he asked. He wants to just stay with Tsumiki from now on. Gojo promised he could stay with Tsumiki.

But Gojo was burnt out, exhausted, and had a lot of misconceptions as to what everything megumi told him meant.

The thing about Megumi getting hit there--Gojo knew he was getting hit. But he thought that Megumi was talking about the other kids hitting him, because he was getting into fights. Because that's what the Zenin told him.

Megumi was showing up with scrapes and bruises. They all asked about them. Some of it was explained away as just like, the normal bruises and cuts a kid collects because they're tiny and the world is very big and they have the motor control of a potato alarm clock. But anything they couldn't explain away as just your average cut was blamed on Megumi getting into fights with kids his age and giving as good as he got. Maki actually was a favorite scapegoat, though neither megumi nor maki know it. She was around his age, and had plenty of reason to be at odds with him because he had the best technique in the clan and she had none at all. The best day either of them had growing up in the compound, the day where they got to play together, ended with all three of them getting beaten horribly for running off. If it was just Maki and Mai, no one would have cared, but Megumi had every second of his day planned and the entire schedule was fucked irreparably now.

Of course, the teen parenting trio had a lot of questions about this, namely "what the fuck happened to him," and were promptly told that he got into it with this little psycho a year older than him who had a heavenly pact and was bitter that megumi got the clan techinque and she didn't. And to Gojo, shoko, and nanami, who had just dealt with Megumi's dad, a bitter psychopath with a heavenly pact who made it everyone's problem? They believed it. The Zenin promised they'd punish maki and keep her apart from Megumi from then on out, which quickly turned into "Megumi wanted to prove he could win the next fight and ran off to track her down and have a rematch and these new bruises are the result. Kids, huh?" or "we kept maki far away this time and Megumi went out and fucked with some other kids. What do you want us to do, cut him off from every other kid in the compound?"

As if they hadn't already cut him off from every other kid in the compound

The Zenin's lie also had a huge amount of credibility to it because Megumi was already getting into fights at school. He was a holy terror who couldn't go a week without being in the principal's office. They thought he was in some kind of phase. (He was actually lashing out under the stress of being abused and having no control in his life and trying to reclaim his own sense of autonomy and fairness by fucking up any kid who started shit and acted like a bully). but yeah--kid who couldn't go two days without punching another kid in the face and getting punched himself for his trouble, getting hit? Yeah, uh. no shit.

So Megumi said he was always getting hit there, and he remembered it as a very explicit proclamation that his extended family were beating him every time he set foot on their compound. Gojo heard it as "I keep getting into fights with everyone there because I've got the disposition of a rabid wolverine and you have had to make the trip to the principal's office many, many, many times as evidence of that."

But uh. When you tell someone you're getting beat by your bio family, and they, in a very tired, very frustrated tone start trying to get you to reflect on what in your own behavior might have caused it and how you might have provoked the situation, it doesn't exactly leave an impression of an adult who's going to go to bat for you.

And like. Gojo was trying to actually do the parenting book thing? He was tired as fuck and not thinking entirely straight and had been putting off talking to megumi about how he cannot keep biting the other children for a while. He thought he needed to get megumi to reflect on how you're probably going to get hit if you hit them first and how he should hit less children, even if they are little assholes.

It was that kind of recontextualization. Like, Megumi just didn't have the words to properly explain what was going on. I've talked in another post, somewhere, about how the Zenin forcibly bathing Megumi was like, a regular thing when they had custody. it happened every time he went there. They were control freaks who felt entitled to him and who wanted him to look exactly how the ten shadows was supposed to look, and they weren't about to trust the grooming skills of a six year old to get what they wanted. They'd hand him off to the servants, and Megumi would have all of his things taken from him, and he wouldn't get a single say in anything from then on. They'd decide how his hair was styled. What clothes he wore. Where he went, what he ate, everything.

But Megumi didn't have the vocabulary to be like "Hey the Zenin habitually steamroll every boundary and preference i have in a way that reflects alarmingly on their understanding of my autonomy and personhood. Here's a list of ways they've done that." He put it in the way he experienced it, which is that they were always touching him and making him wear weird clothes.

But Gojo knew this kid, and he knew that Megumi hated anyone touching him at all. He got pissed at Gojo for ruffling his hair and Tsumiki for trying to hold his hand. Megumi had a very low tolerance for being touched, and Gojo skewed his interpretation with that in mind.

The worst he imagined was the kind of touching where like, your Great Aunt Bertha comes in for Thanksgiving and you're like, eight and you don't even know this woman but she has weird smelling perfume and you don't want to hug her but she wants to know where her hug is and your parents are getting mad at you and you end up in this weird, uncomfortable, sweaty hug that you wouldn't have picked but it isn't like, an active source of distress after. He didn't get "the dust from the car wheels haven't even settled before I'm getting forcibly bathed by strangers over my very explicit protests."

This was also filtered heavily through his expectations of how the Zenin would treat the ten shadows based on his experience as the six eyes.

like. people just get fucking weird about techniques that are on the scale of the six eyes and ten shadows. People were fucking weird about gojo when he was a kid too. He thought it was normal for your relatives to cry a little when they saw you and beg to be blessed with a touch of your hand. It wasn't until he went to jujutsu tech that he met normal fucking people.

He thought Megumi was surrounded by an entire clan of people who were treating him like the Second Coming of magic jesus and were weird as fuck about him as a result. a clan of vaguely sweaty great aunt berthas fresh from the plane and demanding their hug. stuff like that, or being required to dress in Zenin fashion when he was there... like, it's not stuff you kill an entire clan over, and that's what gojo thought the alternative was. it sucks, but it's two days a week where you have to wear the stupid clothes and suffer through some distant relatives wanting to hug you.

same thing with the name thing--it's the Zenin's millenia-old practice to call the ten shadows "the ten shadows." gojo knew that would happen from the start (but didn't realize how much it bothered Megumi) and it's not something you decide to trigger a war that will probably end with him slaughtering a clan over. He can ask them to cool it with the ten shadows thing, but he doubts they'll listen.

and the last misunderstanding that the had was around Tsumiki.

Gojo thought this was, ultimately, megumi getting worked up because he couldn't stay with tsumiki every single day of the month. Tsumiki was worked up plenty over it herself. And gojo just wasn't in a mind to hear again about how he wasn't fighting enough to keep them together when he nearly went to war to manage this much.

And the thing is, he wasn't the Gojo from season 1 yet. That gojo was still being made. And his belief that no one should take childhood from the children? It was still being fully formed.

What he heard, again and again and again, was that there was time to grow up. He heard it from the higher ups. yaga. nanami, when he's pissed at gojo's antics. all those fucking parenting books trying to teach him not to raise a serial killer. And he didn't want megumi to grow up fully. He wanted him to stay a little boy.

But he thought that this was one of those tough lessons you get when you're growing up that a parent is supposed to walk you through, which is that you dont always get what you want. You need to make it work.

This is what lets Megumi stay with Tsumiki the rest of the time. This deal. Megumi may not fully understand it right now, but putting up with his weird relatives a couple days a week is the reason why he gets to stay with his sister the rest of the time. They worked hard to get him such a good deal, and he needs to just... try, okay? No more picking fights and antagonizing his cousins. Behave. Just... wear the stupid clothes and ignore them on the name thing. Okay? Gojo will ask. he'll ask them to call him megumi and let him wear his own clothes but if they say no, well.

This is the best deal they've got to make sure Megumi stays with Tsumiki. They just. sometimes you put up with stupid, annoying shit because the thing you're trying to save is worth it, right? Gojo does a lot of that.

Gojo walked away thinking he had done a semi okay job getting megumi to understand that sometimes life sucked and you had to put up with annoying fuckers like the higher ups or the zenin because the only alternative was to throw out the baby with the bathwater, and you were willing to put up with the bathwater for the baby's sake.

Megumi walked away thinking he was just told by Gojo to suck it up and take the hits nicely because they'd take away Tsumiki otherwise.

And that was his last nail. Gojo obviously knew all along, just like the Zenin said, and he needed to just shut up and take it or they'd take Tsumiki away from him. So he shut up and took it. He didn't want to lose his sister.

After, Gojo just about tortured himself with the memory. It seemed so obvious in hindsight and so stupid to miss. It was right there. Megumi told him.

A part of him wonders what's the use of the goddamn six eyes if he always sees what's happening too late.

[mxwhore]

mutuals. i am getting caught in my own bitterness again...

[cuteniaarts]

Wine stains on porcelain

(Alternatively: @katkastrofa and I have created 5 OCs in 3 days and I suffer from chronic “I wanna draw the little guysssssss” disease)