#but it’s such a sore spot for anyone to exploit

[frownyalfred]

Lex Luthor in BVS, scribbling “you let your FAMILY die!” in red ink on a letter to Bruce Wayne, who famously, tragically lost his only son at a young age: oh yeah he’s gonna love this

[never-afters]

DEMO. (SOON)

The crowning of a jealous king one century ago spelled the doom of invokers, beings bestowed with the ability to control the essence of the world and manifest it in the surface. Out of envy that he was naught but a normal human, he ordered the capture and execution of invokers, reinforcing his power as a king. He made an enemy out of your people to secure his pride and throne.

A hundred of years passed and the slaughter only continues, a jealous ruler crowned one after another. The land of Zandria is stained with the blood of your ancestors, and it only continues to spill. You, who were once revered, admired, and loved, are now loathed, imprisoned, and executed simply for bearing the ability to manipulate aether, the essence of the land of Aeresia.

You are an invoker. Do you have what it takes to survive the wrath of a land that calls for your death? Or will you, like the ones before you, fall into the abyss?

Abyssal Depths is a dark fantasy set in the fictional world of Aeresia. It is the revamped version of my interactive fiction previously titled Invoker.

˖⋆࿐໋₊ Who are you? Only you have the answer to that question. ˖⋆࿐໋₊ Build bonds with the people you meet. Friendship, rivalry, romance — pick your poison. ˖⋆࿐໋₊ Disguise yourself as a human, working as a mercenary for the guild Sentinel. Try your best to hide the truth from your guildmates. ˖⋆࿐໋₊ Do your job. Who knows? Maybe along the way, you'll find what you're looking for. ˖⋆࿐໋₊ Survive. Perhaps you'll live long enough to see all the mysteries unravel.

Elfrid Basset [f] ✦ Your childhood friend and the daughter of the woman who saved you. Elfrid has always had a strong personality, always pushing you out of your comfort zone. Stubborn, impulsive, yet caring to those she cares about, there was never a time where trouble never followed her. She doesn't know your truth, but as people say, there is no secret that lasts forever.

Lucianus le Cordiér [m] ✦ An ex-noble you and Elfrid stumbled upon a year ago one night. Without the riches and reputation his family once had, Lucian brandished his skill as a swordsman and earned himself a spot as a mercenary in the same guild as you. He appears kind, gentle and open, but the air of mystery that surrounds him proves that no one truly knows who he was once.

Alcaeus Vanderbilt [m] ✦ A person from your past that you thought you will never see again. Meeting him may mean good things, but perhaps it also meant that the ghosts from your past are now catching up to you. Smart, skilled, but surrounded by walls he built to protect himself, Alcaeus won't let anyone take away anything from him again.

Amelia Vanderbilt [f] ✦ Someone from your past who lives with the guilt of surviving. Amelia has always been sickly, but despite everything she has outlived everyone else. She's still the timid and soft-spoken girl you barely saw back home, the only thing you can't believe is her unwavering trust that there is still good left in the world you're both living in.

Clair [m] ✦ A traveling bard who decided one day it will be fun to go adventuring with you and your group. He said he wants to turn your exploits into a great story, and no matter how hard you dissuade him, he never relents. Charming and cunning, that's how Clair is, and you never realized how dangerous those two qualities together were until you met him.

Salomé [f] ✦ An eccentric woman you met in the middle of your mission. Boisterous, fun, yet eccentric, it's hard not to notice her with all the rings that adorn her fingers and the scars that she flaunts like trophies. She tries to come off as someone who knows nothing, but you have the feeling that she hides something you need to know. You wonder what it could be.

Kazehara [f/m/nb] ✦ With clothes you've never seen around Zandria, Kazehara stood out like a sore thumb the first time you saw them. Framed for a murder they swear they never did, they join you in an attempt to clear their name. Sarcastic, cynical, and brash, there is never a shortage of insult from Kazehara. However, you know too well that it's merely an image they conjured to protect themselves in a land they know nothing about.

??? [f/m/nb] ✦ A figure in your dreams, blurred and ever changing. A memory of the past, a phantom of your grief, your desire for warmth — you do not know. However, the way they speak, the way they try to meet your eyes behind the fog that keeps them at bay, and the way they try to reach for you make them seem real. They feel familiar, and there exists a tug in your soul that pulls you closer to them.

OTHERS

✦ Ask box is open! Any question is okay but there is no guarantee that your ask will be answered. Anything that are spoilery, disrespectful, and extremely explicit will be deleted. ^^ ✦ The demo for Invoker can still be accessed through google search. However, it hasn't been updated since 2021, and won't be updated anymore. ✦ This project is not my main focus as I'm a full time university student. My goal is to release the demo before 2024 ends, though. ✦ I haven't decided which platform to use for the demo yet, but rest assured that writing is as consistent as it can be despite my busy schedule. I haven't had the chance to learn how to use Twine yet, so I'm either planning to look for a collaborator who can code in Twine or stick with choicescript first until I get to learn how to use Twine. ✦ I will be posting character profiles for the ROs, though there are no set dates yet. This is to give way for a more detailed description for their personality and physical appearance.

[oceaneyesinla]

Please don't ask what this is. Not usually a Sukuna girlie but I watched the fire arrow scene again and it does things to me (hands + fire = !!!!). No-one look at me, I've never written Sukuna or smut before

Divider by @/cafekitsune

Smut below, enjoy!

You knew what those hands had done. You knew what they were capable of. The lives they had taken and the blood they had spilled, red dripping from those strong fingers and running down past tattooed wrists. You had watched it in real time, watched as they struck down those who would insult him and tore apart those who would oppose him. He was merciless, and those hands were the conduit through which he directed his murderous urges.

You knew their destructive power, and yet you couldn’t fear them. Not when those same hands had handled you with such care. The same hands which ripped a man’s head from his body, were also the ones which lovingly ran through your hair, separating strands as if it were the finest silk in the land. Those hands were often covered in viscera, but they were just as often covered in expensive oils, providing sweet relaxation with every pass over your skin.

Those hands, with long, thick fingers and prominent veins running along the back. Palms slightly rough from the times where his cursed technique wasn’t enough and he bloodied his flesh to get the job done in a way that would satisfy his bloodlust.

The world would say they were the hands of a monster, and maybe they were right in the grand scheme of things, but they didn’t know that the hands they saw commit only evil were also capable of such love. They would never know the man within that monster. They would not know the reverent gaze you were fixed with as those hands trailed across your body, mapping the skin they passed over. Nor would they know the deep chuckle that filled the air as those hands toyed with your nipples to draw breathy moans from your throat.

Those hands knew your body better than anyone else, and they knew how to reduce you to a whimpering mess within minutes. Warm palms would run up and down the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, each pass bringing them closer to where you wanted them most. Skillful fingers would tease at your clit, the fleeting contact making you squirm. Two fingers would scissor to pull apart your folds, so red eyes could see the evidence of your arousal. Thick digits would press inside you, seeking out that spot along your walls with focus and precision, determined to watch you arch your back and listen to you moan his name. Sukuna knew your weakness for his hands, and he knew exactly how to exploit it. It benefited him too, you came to realise. He wanted to feel your heat flutter around his fingers; he drew pleasure from feeling your arousal coat his skin, leaving a slick sheen. He knew just how to get his results, too - knew that every time he praised you; reminded you that you were so good for him, that you took his fingers so well, you would clench a little harder around him.

Those hands would pin yours to the bed, and they would rest heavy on your hips as he rutted into you, and one would come up to grasp your cheeks, forcing you to meet his eyes as you fell apart in his hold. After your lovemaking, those hands were gentle as ever, cleaning up the fluids coating your thighs and massaging sore muscles.

Those hands belonged to the man you loved, and no matter what horror they, and he, committed, you would never see anything more or less than your Sukuna.

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

I think character AI is just a fun little roleplay thing for a lot of people and they don’t spend the time thinking about how the bot “learned” to be this character or what inputting your own physical writing into something like this actually means. It’s just haha I made Aemond say he’s going to shave his head and propose to Rhaenys or whatever. And beyond the ethics of stealing other people’s writing to “become” this version of a character in the first place, it is horrendous for the environment and has pretty bad implications for false news. People talk about how good AI has become over the last year at rendering photos or replicating authors/speech patterns. It’s because you guys keep playing with it for goofy stuff like this 😭 And the saddest part in this story is who do you hold responsible? A machine encouraged this child to kill himself, but you can’t charge technology. Are the CAI founders at fault? Anyone who fed this bot in the first place? Is there even a way to make sure it doesn’t happen again?

I have no issue with AI when it’s genuine machine learning that’s used to advance the field of mathematics and science - which was the intended purpose of artificial intelligence.

I hate that it’s being used to create art, writing, music, and that people are incapable of writing emails, speeches, etc. without it. It’s immoral to feed other people’s writing into AI, and that’s before we touch upon the amount of water needed to keep AI servers running!

I get that it’s a guilty pleasure for some, and it could be argued that it’s on par with the likes of vaping, smart phones, fast fashion, etc. in terms of exploitation and environmental impact. I guess for me, it’s a sore spot because I work in a field where people are losing their jobs to AI and I have had people feed my fics to chat bots in order to act them out.

Unless you place bots behind age restricted blockers then there’s no real way to police how children interact with them. It’s concerning, considering I’ve been told most chat bots will try to turn conversations in a sexual direction, completely unprompted, based purely on what they have learned from previous interactions with people.

[autisticsupervillain]

It's Fictional Throwdown Friday!

This Week's Fighters...

Team Snakemouth vs Olimar!

Conditions:

Both sides are equipped with absolutely everything they can have. Olimar has a full team of Pikmin, with 14 of each type and 2 extra reds. Team Snakemouth has Chompy. Speed Equalized.

Scenario:

Team Snakemouth are called in to investigate a series of thefts plaguing Bugaria. While investigating, they find Olimar and his Pikmin escorting massive treasures back to his ship. Believing him to be responsible, Team Snakemouth rushes in to confront him.

Analysis: Team Snakemouth

The Land of Bugaria. A mythical world of adventure that draes in travelers far and wide in search of glory, riches, and even immortality. Queen Elizant the First, fondly remebered ruler of the Ant Kingdom, was the first to settle it, whereupon she created a utopian paradise where the Ant, Bee, Termite, and Wasp Kingdoms could co-exist peacefully. Yet, despite her great success, she could never complete her life long goal. She could never find the mythical Everlasting Sapling, the remnant of the Old World that some claimed could grant immortality.

It wasn't until many Moons after he death that a team of noble adventurers were able to continue where she left of. The trio of heroes who would come together to not only find the sapling, but also to save all Bugaria from absolute destruction. Their story shall live on forever as the legend of Team Snakemouth.

Named after the cavern in which they had their first adventure, this unlikely trio certainly wouldn't seem like heroes at a first glance. Kabbu, the noble, if naive, beetle certainly acts the type the most, but his fellow adventurers would likely give you pause. Vi, the greedy and impulsive young bee, has gotten the team into more than a few scraps with her headstrong nature and Lief, the undead, antisocial moth reanimated by cordyceps fungus, can seem very aloof and strange at a first glance. But rest assured, these three are among the mightiest heroes that Bugaria has to offer, each with their own strengths and weaknesses that make them nigh unbeatable when they team up.

Kabbu is the team's mighty juggernaut, armed with a razor sharp horn that can pierce the defenses of even the sturdiest of foes. He's tough enough to drill into the Earth and is sturdy enough to take far more punishment than the rest of his team, a fact that he exploits by taunting the enemy to make them target him instead of them. Given his strong sense of justice and honor, he can become quite easily angered by what he views as injustice or even by his iwn personal failings. His failure to save his original team in particular is a very nasty sore spot for him. Luckily, he can channel this anger to increase his strength tenfold, to the point of demolishing large boulders and surviving attacks that could previously one-shot him and his entire team. However, he cannot direct this anger against airborne enemies, as they're just out of his range, so he often needs to rely on his teammates or resort to throwing rocks to get past anyone he can't just clobber. Regardless, his paragon status makes him a source of inspiration for his teammates and he can even encourage them to get back up and keep fighting in the face of debilitating injury.

Vi, though cocky and a bit unscrupulous, is nonetheless a very crafty fighter. Her iconic Bee-merang allows her to fight at long distances, letting her create tornados to throw enemies around and knock flying foes out of the sky. As a bee, she is able to fly herself and even carry her teamates with her to a certain extent (Kabbu is very heavy). What's more, she can remote control her Bee-merang to either always come back to her or remain spinning in place and always carries a secret stash with her to help heal up herself and allies. And if all else fails, her needles can pierce the sturdy defenses of even the toughest of foes. Even if her greed and impulsiveness get her into trouble, she remains a competent fighter and trusted ally.

Leif the moth is a powerful ice magician, capable of freezing foes solid to completely incapacitate them or creating ice shields to protect himself and his allies. He can fly by creating ice beneath himself and walk on water the same way, as well as hit airborne targets by raining ice blocks down on their heads. Lief also has numerous ways to bolster his team mid-combat, increasing his own teammates stats by way of Fortify or Charge Up or nullifying his foes's stats with Break or Enfeeble. He can even nullify stat increases with Cleanse, forcing you fight him at your base level. He's like dropping an undead mage into the middle of A Bug's Life. A Bug's Lief. Despite how devastating he is from a support standpoint, Lief does struggle with his undead status. As he died several years ago, he finds the modern world under Queen Elizant the 2nd's rule very difficult to adapt to and he struggles to accept the fact that everyone he knows is dead and that he's basically a zombie. He's arguably the most traumatized of the team.

And then there's the team pet chompy. Although not capable of much on her own, her ribbons give her deadly bite some added spice, as they allow her to induce all sorts of dangerous effects, from paralysis to sleep to poison!

While each of these fighters are deadly in their own way, their team skills make them unstoppable, allowing them to combine their might with relentless attacks like Frist Relay, where Lief freezes the opponent over and over as Vi pummels them relentlessly, or Fly Drop, where Vi drops Kabbu on the enemy like a big heavy rock. Their deadliest team move, Frost Bowling, involves freezing Vi and having Kabbu toss her at the enemy like, well, a bowling ball, for massive damage!

Then comes the plethora of medals and equipment the team can come decked out in. They can increase the Team's stats in a wide manor of ways and help them resist status effects, ranging from sleep, poison, paralysis, and freezing. Even if you do get those status effects off, certain medals can make those effects transfer to the enemy on contact. Life Stealer sucks the life out of you with every hit landed, Miracle Matter lets them recover from incapacitating injuries after some time, and First Platting has them take no damage from the first hit the lands on them. And, of course, their Flame Broach lets them survive the all consuming inferno of the Wasp King's fire attacks.

With these incredible abilities, Team Snakemouth has overcome impossible odds on their numerous adventures. They've snuck into the Wasp Kingdom undetected and defeated the horrific eldritch Dead Landers, bugs mutated within the remnants of the old world. They even defeated the Wasp King himself after he consumed the Everlasting Sapling and became a veritable Everlasting God.

Their one true weakness? ...They're bugs. Small enough to fit in the palm of your hand. Dead Lander Ω, something implied to be a mutated human child, is large enough to ragdoll and overpower them with ease and crush them all with just one hand.

Despite that, they are still among the toughest bugs out there. Team Snakemouth stands tall as perhaps the greatest heroes to walk the lands of Bugaria.

Analysis: Olimar

Space. The final frontier. And endless expanse full of countless treasures and endless adventures. But, the spaceman having those adventures might just be a fair bit smaller than you were expecting.

Meet Captain Olimar, trade captain and employee for the interstellar trading company Hocotate Frieght whose normal boring life was thrown into disarray when he crash landed on the desolate world of PNF-404. Better known as Earth.

Unable to breath the atmosphere of this post-apocalyptic world, Olimar needez some outside help if he ever wanted to get back home... or if he ever wanted to loot the planet's riches. That's when he discovered he could command adorable little plant like creatures known as Pikmin.

Now, on their own, Pikmin are harmless and helpless, especially the little young ones with only little leaves on their heads. But when brought together and command, they become a nigh unstoppable fighting force. Reproducing by bringing corpses back to their "onion" ships to harvest so that they can then be planted and plucked from the ground, Pikmin rely on their massive numbers to survive, overwhelming their enemy with as many as a hundred Pikmin simultaneously. Furthermore, they come in up to seven different types, each uniquely specialized to thrive in certain situations.

Red Pikmin are immune to and can to a certain extent control fire. Yellow Pikmin are immune to and can channel electricity, as well as fly farther through the air and dig faster due to their glider like ears. Blue Pikmin breathe underwater while Whites can see farther, are immune to poison, and are poisonous themselves, poisoning an enemy on contact or consumption. Rock Pikmin are especially durable and do considerable damage to anything they're thrown at, while Purples are ten times stronger and heavier than their counterparts, to the point where one hundred of them is equal to one thousand ordinary Pikmin. And finally, winged Pikmin can fly and carry Olimar around.

Purples in particular give us a fairly good estimate for how strong Pikmin generally are. It takes one hundred of them to lift a one kilogram barbell, meaning that the average purple can lift around ten grams. As they're ten times stronger than normal Pikmin, normal Pikmin are only capable of lifting about one gram each. For reference, the average bee can lift up to thirteen grams. While that might seem pathetic, even the mightiest bee would be overwhelmed by an organized squad of one hundred Pikmin and Olimar is very capable of providing that.

With his whistle, Olimar can organize Pikmin into a competent fighting force, allowing him to literally throw them at his enemies until they die. His whistles can cure Pikmin if negative effects, including being set on fire, being waterlogged, being exposed to acid, being poisoned, and being mind controlled by fungus. He's also heavily armored, with his suit protecting him from fire and electricity, as well as allowing him to breathe oxygen. In fact, his suit is so durable, it can survive a fall from space! ...Which isn't that impressive for him, as he's about the size of a bottlecap lid. Only about 22 joules. For reference, a rabbit stomps with a force of 23 joules.

Source:

Luckily, Olimar has ways of supplementing his Pikmin. Little specks of gunpowder, or "Bomb Rocks" let his Pikmin blow his enemies to Kingdom Come, while the Super Spicey Spray can amplify his Pikmin's strength and speed. Ultra Bitter Spray, meanwhile, petrifies his enemies for about nine seconds, turning them into brittle stone his Pikmin can easily destroy.

Indeed, Olimar and his Pikmin formed something of a symbiotic relationship. Not only did they help him survive on this hostile alien world, but he also taught them how to survive too. Many of the Pikmin's later evolutions likely only came about because of Olimar's guidance and, if he'd never crash landed, they likely would've gone completely extinct. Perhaps there's a lesson to take from all of this about the circle of life.

Throwdown Mashup:

Throwdown Breakdown:

This is an interesting matchup to break down.

First off, Leif is going to be doing a lot to help carry his team here. First off, his ice shields will help prevent his team from getting completely swarmed right off the bat while cleanse would completely nullify the Super Spicey Spray. Similarly, while Olimar would be coming in with a big strength advantage himself, Leif's various debuffs would help nullify this. Olimar's Pikmin would vary in their usefulness here, as numb wouldn't work on yellow Pikmin, poison wouldn't work on Whites and so on, while Reds would have their usefulness hampered by the flame broach and other similar resistances.

Purples, Rocks, and Bombrocks would be useful for getting past shields while Yellows and Flying can deal with flight, but Olimar has no easy answer to Kabbu's dig ability, which he can use to safely keep the whole team mobile. Vi's tornados can disperse Olimar's formation, forcing him to briefly disengage to regroup, and she can knock him out of the sky if he tries to fly away. The Purples and Rocks in particular are going to be hard to deal with given how strong they are, but if Kabbu gets one of his rage amps, he might be able to power through them. Might.

Olimar can one-shot with a Bitter Spray, as Snakemouth has nothing that resists that. Even with the shields, Olimar can just use the spray the break the shields, then spray again. However, Team Snakemouth can ono shot him just by piercing his suit, either with Kabbu's horn or Vi's needles, as Olimar can't breathe without it.

This is a very complicated match with a lot of moving parts and a lot of different ways it can play out. The one thing that ultimately makes me give it to Snakemouth however is Leif. Not only is freezing something that none of Olimar's Pikmin resist, but it's something that Olimar can't just whistle them out of. Leif has used his freezing as a permanent incapacitation before and none of Olimar's Pikmin should be strong enough individually to break out. If Leif's ice can hold wasps and ants, even temporarily, then it should hold something with a max lifting strength of ten grams just fine. Olimar would have to use his Rock Pikmin to recover frozen Pikmin, but that would just drag his attention away from Team Snakemouth and give them time to recover or follow up, either by healing up with Secret Stash and items or by further disrupting Olimar and his team with tornados and the like.

Another factor in Team Snakemouth's favor is their ability to recover on the spot. If Olimar wants to replenish his numbers, he'll have to go back to his onion, while Snakemouth has several methods of recovering themselves that don't take as much time. For all intents and purposes, all of Olimar's losses will likely be permanent.

Olimar can still win if he uses his numbers to divide the team up or if he uses the bitter spray. This is not an easy fight for them. But I think they have enough ways to avoid getting swarmed, enough ways to recover from setbacks, and enough counters to Olimar to hold out in the long run. Especially as several of their attacks have the potential to wipe out large swathes of Pikmin in one go if Olimar isn't careful.

This Throwdown's Winner is...

Team Snakemouth!

[chosenbythecrystal]

@loqis continued from here.

Noctis had the very dangerous habit of running his mouth when he probably shouldn't. It wasn't the best was to deal with stressful situations, but it was better to be mouthy than to show vulnerability. He'd known there was something different about the cuffs as soon as they closed around him.

He felt...empty. That usual buzz of magic that he felt within him was gone. He'd tried to summon a blade or a ball of fire – anything – but to no avail. With no magic, and no way of wielding a sword, there wasn't much Noctis could do but sit back, wait for backup, and hope that an opportunity to break free would arise.

"Honestly, I don't think you're even on his radar." Cor was a busy man, after all, and he'd gained a lot of enemies over the years. He probably didn't even remember Loqi's name. That was the thing about Cor. He didn't care about fame or glory and he certainly never let it go to his head. If anything, the man seemed embarrassed when anyone spoke of his legendary exploits.

"Unlike your Emperor, my father never viewed his men as expendable, and neither do I." It was a sore spot though, since Noctis had always hated the thought of people getting hurt to protect him. "Oh, I'd never mock Cor. Unlike some people, he understands honour."

[basil-baker]

Task Eleven → Intro & Connections

CHARACTER INFORMATION

FULL NAME: Basil Augustus Sherringford Baker GENDER: cis male PRONOUNS: he/him AGE: 39 OCCUPATION: Private consulting detective ORIENTATION: Asexual RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Single

+ Dauntless, Determined, Tenacious - Prickly, Self-centred, Operatic

Basil comes from a family lineage in England stretching back centuries. His ancestors had been knighted, served as MPs in Parliament and had the favor of several monarchs. His own father is the head of a multi-billion dollar corporation with connections around the world. His older brother is a highly-respected figure who has the ear of many government officials. With such a pedigree, it seemed natural that Basil too would aspire to a lofty position. Yet that was not and indeed had never been what he wanted.

Ever since he was young, Basil has admired the skills and exploits of Sherlock Holmes. He voraciously read his grandmother’s collection of Conan-Doyle paperbacks as well as watching TV and movie adaptations of the great detective. All of this made him determined to go on to a career in law enforcement, for which the most logical path seemed to be becoming a police officer. Yet, after starting training, it soon became apparent that particular route was not for him. Holmes had not been a police officer himself, after all, but he was an expert in a great many fields. So Basil went on to university, broadening his horizons in a number of subjects and collecting diplomas and degrees in nearly every field he studied.

Armed with such a vast collection of knowledge, he became a private investigator, and an exceedingly good one at that. His skills were tested early on when he went up against the notorious criminal Ratigan. While he may have still been relatively green as an investigator, his knowledge and intellect proved invaluable, and helped him make a name for himself. This event not only proved that Basil had finally found his calling as a top-notch detective, but also showed criminals that he was not to be underestimated.

These days, his reputation as one of the finest private detectives in the world precedes him, and has led him to Redwood Hollow. Knowing his talent for getting to the bottom of strange cases, an acquaintance tipped him off about the recent happenings in the town. Missing persons and strange illnesses are not exactly everyday happenings in a small town, so Basil has agreed to have a look into things. Not as an official case as yet, but being as he is rather good at spotting things which others might overlook, he is willing to see if there is something to indicate his particular skills are needed.

ADDITIONAL INFORMATION

While his family name is an influential one, he does not like to fall back on it or on his father’s money and connections, preferring to earn his own way in the world.

WANTED CONNECTIONS

Friends -- Because he really doesn't have any, in town or otherwise!

Enemies / Criminals who he's helped to convict -- There are A LOT of these!

People who know his family -- There are also a lot of these!

WANTED PLOTS / PLOT IDEAS

Basil is very much out of his element being in a small town like this. He's good at not sticking out like a sore thumb, but he definitely does not know the real ins and outs of town. It would be fun to have someone rope him into getting involved in some of the town goings-on, and have him get to see first hand what really goes on in town.

He's focused on his plan to solve the mystery of what's going on in Redwood Hollow and does not want to get distracted. If someone interferes, either intentionally or not, Basil could get upset with them, and this could lead to a full-blown feud.

Someone knows what Basil is up to! He has not told anyone why he's really in town, but if someone either knows of him and his reputation or figures out who he is, they can conjecture as to why he is there. They can then choose to either help or hinder him.

TAKEN CONNECTIONS

None at the moment, actually! He needs to get to know more people!

OTHER

One character from the open tag you would like to see taken / added to the Most Wanted page: David Q. Dawson

[lingshanhermit]

Lingshan Hermit: My Personal Teachings

I have previously harbored this doubt: "When I go about correcting others' mistaken views, or when I express my own opinions, is the greater motivation to prove my own superiority or to truly benefit them?"

This doubt is not a recent phenomenon; it arose long, long ago. It first surfaced as a fleeting thought just as I was about to fall asleep one night, tracing back perhaps as far as twenty years. At that time, George W. Bush was still in the White House, Trump was busy managing his business empire, and Kamala Harris was an assistant district attorney in Alameda County, California. I had just begun my journey of Dharma propagation, full of vigor and passion, believing myself to be completely selfless. Until one day, as I lay in bed about to fall asleep, a thought suddenly occurred to me: Am I doing this to prove my own superiority, or to truly benefit others?

Because I had developed this self-doubt, I had to take some time to delve into the deeper psychological workings within me. The conclusion I reached was that whether I was correcting others or expressing my own views, my deepest motivation was ultimately to prove that I am superior to everyone else. Not just the person I was conversing with or their teacher, but all people. This need to prove myself stems from a strong "self" that craves affirmation, which the current reality has not provided enough glory to satisfy. So I turned to other means to obtain this "vitamin" for my self, needing to maintain a sense of being superior to all. Pointing out others' mistakes and expressing my own lofty views was undoubtedly the most convenient shortcut to acquiring this feeling.

This discovery did not surprise me, as I have always been a very self-assured person. Even now, there are only one or two people who can truly win over my wholehearted respect. I have been exceptionally intelligent since childhood, and my knowledge of the Dharma is expansive. Being a Scorpio, I am easily able to discern others' flaws and logical gaps. As immodest as this may sound, I have not yet encountered anyone smarter than myself, and this alone should give you a sense of how extremely arrogant I am. (Although I may outwardly pretend to be humble, that is merely an illusion - underneath lies an extremely proud heart.)

The problem is not just that I can identify others' flaws, but that I greatly enjoy pointing them out, poking at their sore spots. I relish this feeling of being the lone enlightened one amidst the masses. But clearly, this is not a habit that endears one to others. If someone were to constantly act this way, they would soon find themselves without an audience, as people would avoid them.

I can now clearly see how the demonic forces have, over the past decade or more, exploited my arrogance and ambition, my urgency to prove myself, eroding the trust between myself and others, causing our relationships to become estranged and tense.

Even more damning than the first realization is my second discovery: I've realized that when I express my own views, I'm really just wanting to say those words, to write them down for others to see - to prove that I am superior to all. Whether the other party can actually understand, whether they will benefit, whether they will get angry or be hurt, is something I don't really care about. This is the truly horrifying part. I don't care about their feelings or needs; I just want to say what I want to say.

I had no concern for their state, no consideration of their capacity to handle it, no regard for their face or the appropriateness of the situation, no consideration for their own "self" needs or dignity. I just blurted out everything I wanted to say, without any regard for how much they comprehended or absorbed, or whether they were becoming enraged from being contradicted, to the point of not hearing me at all. I would fill the table with the finest dishes, merely to show off, without a thought for whether they might prefer homestyle fare or had even lost their appetite.

This, I believe, was the core of my issues in recent years. As someone who has taken the Bodhisattva vows, I've actually spent very little time contemplating what the other party truly needs, what tone and approach I should use, what should be said, what shouldn't, and what could be postponed. I almost never considered these things, nor did I devote much thought to them. I would just be direct, say whatever I had, however much I had. And I would even affix the label of authenticity and lack of pretense to this selfish behavior (I know some great accomplished ones have this style - direct, uninhibited, straight to the heart, and I used to envy their ability to do so, as it made me feel like I had the bearing of a great achiever, which my "self" found immensely comforting).

I would tell myself and others that what I was saying was truly what they needed, the true Dharma, the style of a Great Perfection practitioner. For a long time, I believed this to be the truth. But the reality was simply that I didn't want to take the time to consider their feelings. I didn't want to observe their state and their true needs. If I had just thought it through a little, I would have known that such speech would only create distance between us. Even if what I said was truly what they needed, it didn't have to be told to them immediately. Even if it was what they needed, it required a gradual process, technique, not just blunt delivery - which would only startle or enrage them away.

It was only many years later that I slowly realized my simplistic, heavy-handed approach was rooted not in consideration for them, but in my own powerful need for self-validation and control. If I truly cared for them, I should have first befriended them, chatted about topics they enjoyed, made them comfortable talking to me, so they would gradually become willing to hear more from me. But unwilling to invest the time to understand their foundation and potential reactions, I would often hold them to the highest standards, treating them as if they were Milarepa or Naropa to be tested. Then I would blame them for not having Milarepa or Naropa's responses. This was truly unfair - they were not Milarepa or Venerable Huike, but at best slightly above-average ordinary people.

If you want to make people avoid you, you need only constantly display your superiority, making them feel like fools at every turn. Soon they will be provoked to anger, and the end result will certainly be them keeping their distance from you. There is no one who enjoys being negated, treated like an idiot. And even fewer people want to be friends with someone vastly more intelligent than themselves. Most people can only be friends with those of similar intelligence, gossiping and mutually soothing their egos.

As a Dharma propagator, the stupidest thing you can do is to constantly present yourself as all-knowing, discerning every minutia, leaving no room. So don't try to display your intelligence in every matter, don't be so discerning, and definitely don't attempt to correct every single error in others - this won't make them more grateful to you, only feeling unable to breathe, and in the end they will fear you, becoming guarded and withdrawn.

I know these things because I used to do exactly that. And of course, I reaped the corresponding results. - In fact, I still sometimes revert to such behavior. I have very high expectations of myself, and those who also highly demand of themselves generally find it hard to tolerate those with lower standards, so I struggle to be tolerant of the mediocre or lazy. I'm accustomed to holding the same high expectations of others. So I've always maintained high demands of my students. My teacher used to tell me not to be too harsh on them, to give them time. At the time, while I outwardly acquiesced, I inwardly remained unconvinced. Unsurprisingly, the result was as expected - many were scared off by my strictness, unable to bear it, becoming closed off after repeated scoldings. This was certainly not the outcome I wanted.

People like myself are most prone to the mistake of holding others to high standards, because we demand so much of ourselves, and have rarely encountered those who demand little of themselves. So we naturally assume that what we can do, you should also be able to do. If you can't, then you're just not trying hard enough. It was only many years later that I realized this was unfair to them - I had overlooked their upbringing and their own definitions of effort. Perhaps in their view, they were already trying very hard, far more diligent than their peers growing up. But in my eyes, they weren't trying at all. Their definition of effort was on a completely different plane from mine.

One part of why I demanded so much was my eagerness to prove myself and reap the results quickly. The other part was because I mistakenly assumed they truly wished for liberation. This leads to another error I often committed: I was too quick to believe their claims of wanting liberation. They would come before me putting on an air of desperate desire for liberation, and I naively believed them, then treated them as if they were truly seeking liberation. Only to later find that they were not made of that stuff at all. They claimed to be steel and diamonds, but were actually as brittle as coal shards.

In hindsight, they were not intentionally deceiving me - they themselves likely didn't know their true state. They are deeply self-deluded people, and the self-deluded have great difficulty recognizing their true condition. They have long lived in the fantasy worlds they've constructed, which prevents them from knowing what they truly need, or seeing their real state. They are accustomed to lies and boasts, habitually describing their motivations in lofty terms, and they genuinely believe themselves to be so noble. So when they come to practice, of course they won't admit that their purpose is merely to accumulate blessings and improve their circumstances - they'll grab onto the high-sounding phrases, saying they want liberation, Buddhahood, to benefit all beings.

If they had just told me upfront that their aim was to accrue some merit and wealth, that they have zero interest in liberation, I certainly would not have treated them the way I treated Marpa treating Milarepa. They would have avoided being beaten black and blue. But they didn't do that, so it was hard for a good outcome to arise.

Scrutinizing my deep-seated motivations, I realize that the root cause of my demanding attitude, my style, is my desire to prove myself, to prove my own excellence, to prove the absolute correctness of my methods, to reap results as quickly as possible. Subconsciously, I've always been comparing myself to others, wanting to outdo everyone. Because of this ambition, I've often been too impatient, lacking in patience.

Although I know samsara is profoundly long, that liberating all beings is a task for countless eons, that I must do this work uninterrupted for millions upon millions of vast eons - although I understand this clearly and have prepared myself for it - sometimes I still get too anxious, leading to various negative consequences. This results in a deep sense of frustration within me. Accompanying it are feelings of sadness, disappointment, and a tendency to give up, seeing the other party as ungrateful, intractable. If I don't control my mind, I may even develop anger towards them.

I don't intend to hide any of this. I believe every sincere Dharma teacher has gone through such experiences - I don't think there is anyone who hasn't. Even the great Avalokiteshvara went through the process of his head shattering into a thousand pieces - he became despairing of sentient beings and was about to give up, causing his head to explode. It was then mended back together by his teacher, Amitabha Buddha.

So I don't think a Dharma teacher's such experiences need to be concealed. We are all still human, not yet Buddhas, and even those advanced in practice still have ordinary habits - so when betrayed, we feel saddened, angered, wanting to give up. There's no need to hide this. But you cannot remain immersed in these emotions - you must rekindle your resolve.

As a Dharma propagator, you should know the root capacities of those you wish to benefit, and what they truly want. But you cannot simply believe what they say. Because everyone will claim they want liberation, but the reality is that most do not truly want Buddhahood. They only want comfort in this life - they want time and money, health and entertainment. So you needn't train them as if they were Milarepa.

Nor should you use harsh methods to test their patience. Most are not Huineng or Gampopa, but ordinary people - when scolded, their direct reaction will be anger, not gratitude. They are ordinary human beings, with all the flaws and stupidities of ordinary people. They do not have such noble souls, such resilience and patience. Expecting them to have the responses of the great saints and sages is the height of foolishness. And I used to frequently hold this foolish expectation - it's like expecting a cobra to be as gentle as a cat when you touch it. You cannot assume the other party will respond correctly. If you have such a stupid preconception, you are bound to be disappointed.

My past logic was: When faced with this situation, this is how I would react, so you should also react this way. Because this is the correct response, the response a good disciple should have. If you don't respond this way, then you are not a good disciple. Now I can see the refined arrogance hidden in this. If I truly cared for them, truly wanted their liberation, I should have sought to understand their cultural background, know their limits, realize they are not me and could not possibly have the same responses as me since they didn't grow up immersed in the Chan and Tibetan Buddhist canons - I should have figured out the methods and communication most suitable for them. But in the past, I didn't do any of this at all - I chose the easiest path for myself. My approach was like tossing a hard biscuit to an infant, then expecting them to swallow it whole.

So the remaining question is: How should we interact with each person? (They come from all over the world, with completely different cultures and standards - even the same word can have vastly different meanings to them.) How do we benefit them? How do we guide them to truly begin practicing? From my experience, in most cases, the safer approach is to maintain their dignity, appropriately satisfy their "self", give them what they want, fulfil their desires, occasionally drop them a pointer - wait until they've accumulated sufficient merit, developed enough sentiment, truly begun to tire of samsara, before slowly adding more substance, gradually revealing the true nature to them. Not just start by searing their backs with a red-hot poker or throwing them into a crocodile pit. This approach is best for everyone.

To this day, I still occasionally ask myself, "Am I doing this for them or for myself?" This self-examination has greatly benefited me - it helps me catch those fleeting selfish impulses, understand my true state. Unlike the self-doubt of years ago, it is now a method for maintaining the health of my mind. Over these years, I've been able to see my selfishness gradually diminish, the sacred aspects within me grow, my actions for others increase. I'm joyful at this transformation.

In my interactions with others, I've begun considering their backgrounds and environments, trying to understand the regional cultures they grew up in, imagining how they might feel and react to my words, planning their paths to liberation. I know every true Dharma propagator has gone through this.

In the beginning, we are selfish without realizing it, pretending to be for the benefit of others, claiming we're benefiting all beings. But lacking in experience, even if we have passion and sincerity, we still make many mistakes. Fortunately, these mistakes guide us towards the right approach.

As our practice progresses and our selfishness diminishes, gradually, we truly begin to wish for others' wellbeing. We start to sense their feelings, empathize with their suffering and struggles. After understanding the root of cyclic existence, we develop genuine compassion for them, seeing their anguish trapped in illusions, truly wanting to help them escape that. To do so, we contemplate how to help them realize that all of this is mere illusion. The mistakes we made earlier have taught us how to properly engage with them - we've gained many skills and experiences. To help them understand the illusory nature, we need to do a lot of work: accompany them for pool games, brew coffee together, know who Emilia Clarke is, be able to tell stories and grill steaks, understand their memes - and all this subtly dissolves our "self".

If you are on the right path, the day should not be far off when you reach true selflessness, when your "self" has "disappeared" and your entire existence is devoted to their awakening and benefit. This is the goal.

The Lingshan Hermit, written on August 11, 2024, first published on August 21, 2024.

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灵山居士：我对自己的教言

[shiftgear-engineer]

😶 One Pokémon you do not care for

Kyurem will never not make me feel uneasy.

I feel guilty for that, since it was as much of a victim to Ghetsis as anyone else involved in Team Plasma and as far as I know is still stuck with him, but it's just...a sore spot.

Even so, I hope eventually it can find someone else who cares more about it's wellbeing rather than treating it as nothing more than a weapon. No pokemon deserves to be exploited like that.

[freneticphoneticfanatic]

I hate seeing people romanticize hardening, especially when it comes to women. There is value and beauty to be found there, but it’s ultimately a survival skill, and it does more harm than good in the long run. Hardness is not something to valorize or aspire towards. People become hard through pain and extreme repression.

A hardened person is someone who turns away from and shuts down parts of herself—empathy, vulnerability, unrefinement, “softness”—that other people have exploited and used against her. This makes connecting with other, less hardened people much more difficult. Someone will inevitably poke a sore spot or remind her of something she’s chosen to ignore, and she will hate that. If she’s less mature and self-aware, she’ll bully that person for their lack of hardening—out of jealousy that they haven’t had to develop the survival skills she has; care for their safety, of which she believes hardening to be a crucial component; anger at seeing her shame reflected in another person; etc.

Hardening gives the illusion of protecting oneself from further damage, but hardening itself is damaging. When a person chooses to harden, she chooses not to let anyone touch—or even acknowledge—her wounds, her shame. This choice stunts her. She defends herself better against a curious, well-intentioned friend or lover than someone looking to exploit or harm her. Her fear of people hurting her when they get too close is reinforced when the only people to touch her wounds are those who ignore her boundaries and those she’s too afraid to tell “no.”

What’s truly beautiful is watching a hardened person relax. Not just for a moment during sex, as is often romanticized, but as a person, gradually over time. When someone learns to lean into healthy love, put her trust in those who’ve earned it, allows her loved ones to see the parts of herself she normally keeps hidden, cultivates self respect, and maintains her dignity by using her strong boundary-setting skills with exploitative and unkind people… that’s what we should celebrate.

[fullscoreshenanigans]

Realizing my wording on these options was kinda eh and maybe I should have included an option for "it depends on my mood lol" because I've ticked every option but the first two at some point. After binging the entire series in three days, everything after chapter 153 felt incredibly rushed. Even going back to it now after having two years to digest the series, over a year of running this blog, and reading the mystic code book and understanding why that is, I have a general agreement with lowart's video on the subject:

The Escape arc lays out almost all the pieces for the reader to pick up out early enough on that they can make reasonable assumptions of where things will go, and being rewarded when they're confirmed and their having stakes and weight to them. By the Return to Grace Field arc, I find myself finding refuge in the symbolism of what's occurring (like Legravalima and Peter dying due to being unable to comprehend alternative paths with how entrenched they are in the status quo) because what's happening on the surface is such a letdown at the speed it proceeds given the scale of the conflict being two world orders (though from what we can see most of it is contained in just one of them). We know good will eventually triumph given the tone and demographic of the series, but we aren't allowed to piece together how alongside the characters as they go about it. They're able to brute force their way through Grace Field after how meticulously they had to scheme to escape initially, and it doesn't feel nearly as earned. "Things are just happening now." I would have loved to see the two-year deadline being missed and the resulting fallout of that. Or a sore spot for many people, greater resolution to the Ayshe-Norman conflict with clarification about what he says to her in chapter 160.

This is one of those times I lament forums not being as big of a thing as they used to be with to keep discussion in more of a centralized hub with all the interesting responses people shared. But you work with what you have, and it was still neat seeing the diverse range of responses from everyone.

Also including the ones from my original post that I deleted because of a typo.

Said this on another post but I'm also a big hater of this fdjkhhfks.

Like some other fans, I greatly dislike Norman becoming a CEO during the final major timeskip, as well as Lambda sickness being conveniently treated with no chronic aftereffects and absolutely no issues with them integrating into human world and being welcomed with open arms by everyone. I understand Shirai wanted to wrap up the series on his own terms after years of dealing with the strain that is weekly manga publishing, and he needed an explanation for how the kids could easily fund their expeditions to search for Emma, but oof, do I hate it lol.

Wish there had been more of a balancing act of Norman and other kids undoubtedly making a name for themselves in the human world in some capacity without him contributing to potentially exploitative practices. I've seen people make him a professor, politician, or a doctor, and I like how those more directly involve him in the betterment of communities given the cattle children's intended destiny of being hidden away and forgotten to history.

@stringywormies420 this post by @incomingalbatross is definitely a great read for anyone who hasn't already seen it (also including @hinasho's tags.)

@ritsmew-sakunya potentially this post from @couldnt-think-of-a-better-name's blog back in 2019?

Shirai also revealed in the mystic code book the other end of Goldy Pond's elevator is located in Australia. Would have been neat to see how the rest of the demon world scales to the human world considering how the kids are able to cover enough ground in less than two years to find all they need to access the Seven Walls.

I'm also never going to be over no one from the Goldy Pond crew dying and Shirai trying to add gravity to the bunker raid and immediate follow-up by killing off characters we don't learn the names of until the bonus sketch from chapter 119 lol

"Having its cake and eating it too" came out the strongest for me here, especially with how comparatively weak of an antagonist Andrew is in terms of personal conflict for the characters.

[j2lx]

I promise… We'll be ok (Naoya Drabble)

Sypnosis: You're a servant for the Zenin Clan and that's all you are… or so you think. You would never have thought that the infamous Naoya Zenin would've fell in love with you, and changed himself for the better just to be with you <3

(Some context for one of the parts in the fic: (this isn't canon, it's just what I came up with so this would make more sense) Naoya was from Kyoto Jujutsu Tech, and met Shoko during the Goodwill Event when they were in high school)

Ship: Naoya x Fem!reader

Warnings: Misogyny (not Naoya to reader though!), physical abuse, angst to fluff, Naoya is rlly down bad for reader and put his life on the line for you 🥺 (pls he calls you "princess" he's so in love with you)

A/n: I decided to get out of my comfort zone and start doing drabbles instead of my normal short fics and headcanons! This is my first drabble so =") Also I've had this idea since last year and I'm finally writing it down!!

Naoya, who thinks that women are nothing and only exist to serve men. He thinks that they shouldn't have opinions, and should walk three steps behind men at all times. That is, until he met you.

You were just a new servant in the clan but he fell absolutely head over heels for you. He was down so bad for you that he became so well mannered and kind to you. He even made you his "personal servant" just so he could protect you from the clan elders, who could potentially abuse and exploit you, which he had witnessed them do to other servants before. It was the only way to protect you, and he made sure no one else could put their hands on you.

He confesses to you with a bracelet, cheeks flushed a rare red that you won't usually see. But he loved you way too much, and he couldn't help wanting to express his feelings for you. Of course you accepted, because he treats you so well and you really love him too.

Naoya lets you sleep with him on his bed every night, often helping to coax you to sleep when you just can't sleep. He drapes a blanket over you both, but often gives up most of the blanket to you, so that you won't feel cold from the air conditioning in his room. He pats and strokes your back whenever you get nightmares, pressing his lips against your forehead to tell you he's there for you.

He cooks for you too, much to the surprise of the other servants. He would never admit to what he was actually doing, even though he could silence them not to tell anyone else, and often used the excuse that "he enjoys cooking and should be allowed to do what he likes". And he really does love cooking, especially when he sees how happy you are when you eat the food he cooked. Honestly, he would do anything to make you happy.

Naoya, who brings you out at least twice every week, telling the elders that you're helping him to "run errands", while he "supervises" you. And that's all a lie, of course. He brings you out on dates to nice places he knows you'll like, and gets really affectionate with you. His hand always intertwined with yours, lips on your forehead every now and then.

He took you out on a week's long trip on your birthday week, and during Valentine's Day and White Day, just so you both could have some time away from all the clan stuff. He made sure to make you feel as loved as possible, and he even bought you a small bunny stuffed toy for you for your birthday. The bunny was like a symbol of his love for you, it being there was a reminder that he would do anything in the world for you.

Naoya never lets you do chores that are too strenuous either. He leaves his room as tidy as possible, and helps you with the chores most of the time. The last thing he would want is for you to injure or overstrain yourself while trying to help him clean up. And after all the chores are done, he often showers with you, helping rub any sore spots you have while lathering soap all over your body.

He knows you were insecure about your relationship together. He knew you wanted him to get together with someone of more power, of a better standing in life, because it would benefit him more. But he didn't care. Whenever you came to him with such worries, he would constantly hug and reassure you that he loves you and only you, and that he can't picture himself with anyone other than you.

Because he truly loves you. He knew he wouldn't be like this with anyone else. He knew he was only this vulnerable and open because it was you. So he vowed to protect you, to leave the clan with you so that you both didn't have to live with the expectations and in fear of the clan elders.

He didn't know what threats there were that the two of you would have to face. He didn't know you could be taken from him so quickly. When the elders found out that you were in a relationship with Naoya, they took you to a secluded area in the clan building and started beating you up. It was almost as if they were trying to kill you, to get rid of you so that Naoya could fall in love and marry someone else.

Luckily, these kinds of things don't go without Naoya not noticing. The moment he found out that you were gone and the other servants told him you were sent to "run some errands", he got suspicious. After all, you were his "personal servant" and no one else should be allowed to order you around. He panicked, heart thumping furiously as he ran to find you. And when he did, he found you bruised and slightly bloody, the elders looming over you while you cowered in fear.

But before any of the clan elders could hurt you again, he threw himself in front of you to protect you. He didn't care how hurt he got, all he wanted was to protect you. The elders flew into a rage, horrified that the next heir to the clan would stoop that low just to protect a woman, a lowly slave no less. Naoya didn't care though. He continued taking hit after hit, he didn't even care if he died. He just wanted to protect you from more harm.

When the elders realised that he wouldn't stop protecting you from all the hits, they stopped. Naoya took the opportunity and used his jujutsu technique on the elders and drove you both to Shoko at Jujutsu High, so that she could treat your injuries.

Shoko didn't expect the arrogant heir to the Zenin Clan to show up at her office with tears streaming down his cheeks, clutching your figure in his arms, begging her to treat and heal you. She examined both of your bodies, only to find that Naoya was even more bruised and was bleeding slightly too. She started treating the both of you with no hesitation, internally glad that Naoya finally found someone to love, that someone having changed his view on the world and society.

After all that, Naoya snapped. He went back to the clan and started packing all of his and your belongings. He did anything he could, even putting his life on the line, just to get the elders to let the both of you leave the clan. He threatened to kill himself or kill all of the clan members, just so the both of you could leave that hellhole and have a better life. And they relented, in fear that he would really wipe them all out.

He went back to your shared apartment that he had bought a month before the incident (he was planning to leave the clan soon so he decided to plan early), his car full of both of your belongings. He wrapped his hands around you and pulled you into a tight embrace, lips meeting yours for the first time.

Handing you your stuffed bunny, he carried you in his arms, placing a small kiss on your hand. He sat down on the couch, letting you rest on his lap. Stroking your head gently, he smiled as he said, "We'll be ok now princess. I love you." <3

(Context for the kissing in the last part: You always told Naoya not to kiss your lips because you didn't deserve it so he told you he wouldn't until the both of you were out of the clan. Him kissing you on the lips in that last part was him telling you that the both of you were free <3)

Yay I finally did my first drabble! I really liked this idea of mine and I'm planning on turning it into a series soon =) Hope you all enjoyed some soft Naoya fluff

© @j2lx, 2022

[themidnightguardian]

Day 13: Dislocation -- Naruto (ft. Team 7)

Naruto & Team 7 | AU where Kakashi is a good sensei & Team 7 is closer as a Team | Content Warnings: dislocated shoulder, pain, mentions of past injuries, mentions of hospital refusing to treat a child, questionable self-treatment of injuries

Whumptober Masterlist

---

He felt the click in his shoulder the instant that Sasuke’s foot crashed into it, heard the tiny little pop that he’d come to associate with this particular injury. Automatically, he grit his teeth against the pain and shifted to place the arm behind him. It was useless now, dead weight and an easily exploitable weak spot at least until he could fix it.

That was why Naruto hated dislocations the most, right next to broken bones. A lot of pain could be worked around; he’d had no shortage of it in his life, and he’d learned how to manage all the cuts and bruises, the cracked ribs and hunger-pangs and rolled ankles and black eyes. But a non-functional limb was a pain in the ass because it was one less limb to defend himself with, one less tool at his disposal.

He made it through the last three minutes of the spar only because he’d had practice in learning how to move without jarring his injuries. He relied on dodging more, made use of kicks to force Sasuke back, and when Kakashi-sensei finally called time, Sasuke was clearly more than a little frustrated that it had ended in a tie.

Normally Naruto knew he would have been irritated too. For so long, Sasuke-teme had been consistently better than him, and now that things were evening out, Naruto wanted every win he could manage. And he knew Sasuke felt the same way; their rivalry pushed them both to do better, to get stronger, to fight harder.

But with his shoulder dislocated, the only thing he could think about was the sickening thrum of pain and the need to fix it.

“Maa, good work. Naruto, it looked like you took a bad hit to your shoulder—” Kakashi-sensei was saying, but whatever else he was going to say was cut off abruptly as Naruto braced his shoulder against one of the smoother tree trunks and shoved his shoulder back into its socket with a click.

For a second, the pain was blinding, and he wondered if he was going to pass out like he had the first time he’d had to do this, but it passed soon enough. And then he became aware of the utter silence around him.

Sakura was grim-faced and pale. Sasuke’s mouth hung open ever-so-slightly. And Kakashi’s single visible eye was wide.

“What the fuck, dobe?”

“Eh, Naruto,” Kakashi-sensei said hesitantly. “You should really let a medical professional do that for you.”

Naruto scratched at his head with his good arm. The other would be sore for a few hours—which he now knew was only thanks to the kyuubi’s healing. “I mean, yeah, but when I asked them to fix it the first time, they said they didn’t have time for it, so I learned how to do it myself.”

There was another ringing silence.

“They said they didn’t have time?” Kakashi-sensei repeated slowly, and Naruto thought he might have been angry, but he didn’t know why.

“Yeah. They said I shouldn’t waste their time like that.” Naruto shrugged his good shoulder. “So I figured it out.”

It wasn’t like he had anyone else who could do it. He’d lived alone from the time he was five until Kakashi-sensei had taken them on as a team. And people didn’t like it when Naruto bothered them, so he’d taught himself what he needed as he went along: how to bandage his own cuts, how to treat mild infections, how to reset his dislocated shoulder.

Kakashi took a deep breath. “Right. Okay. We’re going to take a rest from sparring the rest of the week and all go over first-aid and the basics of field medicine. And Naruto?”

“Yes, sensei?”

“The next time you dislocate something, let me fix it for you. I know you can heal from a lot, but just shoving things back into place is a great way to get tissue damage and reduced mobility. Okay?”

“I—” Naruto almost wanted to argue that he was fine, that he could do it himself. Part of him was still afraid that this team was just a dream, that one day it would all be revealed as some big joke and Naruto would have to go back to being alone again. If that happened, then he didn’t want to be relying too heavily on anyone else.

But then, Kakashi-sensei had done more than enough to prove himself these past few months. And Naruto was so, so tired of not being able to trust anyone, not being able to ask anyone for help.

“Yeah, okay sensei.”

[heavensickness]

how long did hg and societyboy date? and why did she put up with him?? do you have backstory on that?

they started dating at the end of her freshman year & it ended a short time later she was done with university. i think it's been 3-4 years since they broke up? you know That Couple on campus who always yell and argue but somehow always go back to each other & you see them holding hands the next day? that was them.

the reason she put up with him lies in her deepest insecurity & him knowing that sore spot, exploiting it. one thing about him was that he was never going to go to someone else. even when they broke off the relationship. and he never cheated, or took interest in anyone but her. it was not really out of his sense of loyalty, but it had to do more with his obsession with her. he was fixated on her but she mistook it for devotion since she is not used to healthy relationships, to say the least. her biggest fear is to be cheated on and/or being left for someone else. she is terrified of abandonment and he knew how to use this fear of hers to his gain. no matter what shitty thing he did or said, no matter how much he mocked or humiliated her; at the end of the day he could whisper all the sweet words about how there wasn't anyone else but her for him, that she will never find someone who loves her as much as he does, and how he was never going to abandon her, and she would fall back everytime because a familiar trap feels too much like safety sometimes. Leaving him once for all was the hardest thing she has ever done after how much he fucked with her mind for years, and I am so proud of her for that.

[greedbent]

Kaz Brekker had made a mistake.

To the masses, that was practically impossible. Every move he made was calculated, having long considered all options as meticulously as any skilled swordsman cared for his equipment—making sure everything worked perfectly, accounting for any weaknesses in his armor before diving headfirst into battle . . . That was, after all, how Dirtyhands preferred to be seen. Oftentimes all it took to keep someone well under his thumb was the fear of him always being a hundred steps ahead. They couldn’t so much as wriggle without him knowing and having a retaliation that would hurt so much more—no matter how quick or slow it came.

People thought of Inej as his spider: she could crawl anywhere, get him any information he needed, but at the end of it all . . .

He would always be the one in the middle of the web waiting for his moment to strike. And when he made his mistakes, he mended the tears in that web before anyone could see them. He compensated. He created a new tangle, a new distraction, redirected his enemy’s attention before they ever noticed he’d lost his footing and nearly tumbled through one of the yawning gaps.

Kaz Brekker made mistakes people usually never saw.

Until now. When such a mistake mattered enough that he couldn’t risk making it— But he had.

It was clumsy. Unacceptable. Deserving of more than just a slap on the wrist. Tartaglia caught him off-guard in ways he always did. Kaz never struggled to dig his fingers into someone’s sore spots, never came across anyone who didn’t have at least one to exploit: the one thing that would always get them on their knees if pressed just right. But Tartaglia had never been easy. He was impulsive. He was as feral as a rabid dog, someone who couldn’t be saved and should be put out of his misery (only that he wasn’t in misery at all, but thrived in the chaos). He was an unpredictable whirlwind as much as Kaz attempted to wrangle it, to hone the unpredictability into a predictability. And that was where the mistakes happened.

Kaz couldn’t reason with insanity.

Even the weak points of that chaos were more of a trigger to an explosion than a means of controlling the creature inside; no, if he pushed Tartaglia’s buttons, he wouldn’t get his cooperation. Kaz had his modesty where he needed it; he knew the Harbinger would have no reason not to gut him right here and now if he wasn’t careful.

—and Dirtyhands had plenty of work to do before he was ready to die.

Mentally, Kaz stepped back from that cage. He removed his hands from between the bars where he had been taunting the beast. And his next exhale came tight, hardly much of a relief—as if he’d expelled a mere fraction of the breath now caught and burning in his lungs. As much as he despised this . . . he backed off. (The rabid dog wasn’t his enemy more so than he was an obstacle.)

“Fine,” he said, tone crisp and final. “Then I need you to first start being honest about the job you’re asking of us.” And as much as he despised meeting that icy leer across from him, Kaz still held it unwaveringly. His jaw tightened, but he continued. “The Fatui don’t go sniffing about for random and unassuming valuables like treasure hoarders; some of you are a bit more sophisticated than that.” Some of you was very deliberately directed at the creature sitting here with him. “The artifact in question doesn’t just crumble to dust when it’s dropped. Tell me what’s so special about it and what sort of danger I’m putting my ‘kids’ in.”

It would be a fair assessment to call both men seated at this table ruthless. Truth be told, it was the only reason Childe found his current company at all tolerable to deal with. For at his core, Kaz was just as insufferable as the other Harbingers: always plotting and scheming, more likely to play the long con with everyone he met than simply eliminate problems head-on. From the moment he'd sat down, Childe knew the shrewd stare across from him studied everything. Kaz's (usually) unflinching stoicism was a veil for cogs that never stopped turning.

That was where the two men seated at this table differed.

Childe's sharp gaze did not seek out weakness for the sake of a scheme. When prey exposed its throat, he did not use the opportunity to tie a leash around it to control and exploit at a later time. No, he latched on with his teeth.

The slip in Kaz's composure was only the briefest instant—but that was enough for the ferocity in Childe's blood to target that weak point. Heh, and he hadn't even been trying to earn a rise. How sloppy.

But Childe's (admittedly pointless) veil of civility had its flaws, as well. The less-than-subtle, deliberate taunt in Kaz's "follow-up query" stretched the corners of his grin just a fraction too wide. Teetering on a knife's edge of which Kaz's words tested the sharpness.

"I have no problem with you asking questions that are relevant to the job at hand. However, I don't see how that could possibly be of any concern to you when you stand to profit either way. Besides, I believe I just finished explaining why I'm a poor fit for the job." If he undertook the task himself, there would be blood and destruction...much like what would become of this very tavern if the man across from him didn't tread very carefully.

Shaking his head, Childe tsked as if scolding a literal bearer of his namesake. "Were you even listening to my proposal? And you call yourself a professional." Spreading his hands wide, his gaze once again lazily traversed the room, this time spurred by boredom. "If you have any legitimate questions, you'd better ask them now. Otherwise, this offer has a time limit—as much as I'd love to spend all evening indulging you, I have a few debts to collect before the night is over."

When he leveled the other again, Childe's stare was solid ice: a testament to the ruthlessness at his core. "Unless you'd like to give your wraith the chance to ask her own questions—now that would be worth my time, if the real professional could join us. After all, she's really the one who's services I'd be enlisting." He inclined his chin. Brazen. Inviting retaliation. "Or does everything have to go through Daddy for approval? Can't have your kids making any decisions on their own, now can you?"

[opalesense]

more than friends

kaeya & gn!reader

2k words • ~15 min. read

summary: feeling down in the dumps on a lonely valentine’s day evening, you are met with a pleasant surprise from your close friend, kaeya.

warnings: just pure lovesick fluff!!  shy kaeya my beloved... <3

notes: i defrosted this draft from valentine’s day aahhh hope you like it!! ;^; p.s. shoutout if you can spot his canon voice lines in this hehehe

SITTING WITH MY BACK ON THE FOUNTAIN WALL and watching the rotating blades of the windmills in Mondstadt was not how I expected to spend my evening on Valentine's Day.

   To be honest, Valentine's Day was never that big of a deal to me.  For the past few years, I always considered Valentine's Day to be a day where vendors could get a boost of profit by exploiting the gift-giving aspect of the holiday and selling their wares to cheesy couples who wouldn't know any better.  Why was there a dedicated day to be sweet to your significant other?  Couldn't special gifts be given at any other time of the year?

  Despite my indifference to Valentine's Day, I couldn't help but feel a little lonely this year.  My back purposely faced the couples of Mondstadt who would walk by now and then on their way to their dates and instead I had windmills to accompany me along with a book to pass the time.  I figured my evening stroll outside wouldn't make me feel so disappointed in myself, but I was proven sorely wrong.  I couldn't even look at other people today without feeling sorry for myself.

   "[Y/N]?" a familiar voice drew closer behind me, interrupting my lament and startling me.  "What are you doing here all alone?"

   I turned my head to see my close friend and neighbor Kaeya approaching me, carrying a small leather pack along with his sheathed sword on his waist.  I realized he probably finished his shift at the Knights of Favonius headquarters and was just about to head home.  The sight of him eased some of my worries knowing that despite my usual solitude, at least I would talk to one person today.  "Just reading a book," I held up the cover of my book for him to see.  He gave a small nod to the title as I put it back down into my lap.  "How did you even spot me here?"

   "I can see you from my office," he pointed at a window on the wall of the headquarters, "You chose quite an odd spot for reading, dear friend. You must be uncomfortable on the ground like that.”

   I nervously laughed, not wanting to admit that I sat behind this fountain to avoid looking at how much fun everyone else was having.  My gaze turned to the sky, a vibrant orange that now began fading into a shadow of dark blue sprinkled with stars.  Dusk was approaching. “I suppose it is getting a little late for reading, now that I think about it.  I think I might head home now."

   "Allow me to accompany you on your walk home.  I’m headed that way, after all," he quickly offered as I began to prop myself up to my feet.  He held out his hand to help me on my way up, the sudden physical contact sending a shiver down my spine.  As clearly touch deprived as I was, my hand quickly pulled away once I was standing and dusted off my clothes, which were wrinkled from sitting for so long today.

   "You are too kind, Kaeya," I grinned, earning a grin back from him.  Maybe this is my loneliness speaking for me, but I swear that smile might have made my heart skip a beat.  Although I may have had a crush on Kaeya for the past few months, there was no way I’d ever let those thoughts resurface now.  I've done a good job of repressing the feelings for so long, whether I was around him or not.  At least, I thought I did.

   As we walked, it suddenly dawned on me that the feelings never truly went away.  They were persistent for months, despite being suppressed.  He was my closest friend for quite some time now.  So maybe it was a sign that it was meant to be...

   Chills ran down my spine at this realization.  And once the truth had settled in, the feelings I thought I had managed to stow away suddenly flooded my mind in a storm of emotion.  The more we talked during the walk home, the more eager my heart was to open up and let the thought of him fill the cavernous, lonely void inside.  My eyes nervously turned to our feet, which stepped together in perfect sync.  My attention darted to the hand at his side, which I ached to touch once more.  The more I tried to fight this longing, to forget about it and keep it isolated, the more it fought back in an effort to stay alive.

   "[Y/N]?" his sultry voice snapped me out of my delusion.  Do NOT let your emotions take control of you, I scolded myself.

   "Sorry," I shuffled my feet towards his figure, which had stopped a few meters away.  The world seemed to stop when I was lost in thought, and with each step I took towards him, the world slowly resumed from where I mentally left it.

   "Is something wrong?" he asked, now concerned.  "You know you can talk to me."

   "No, no.  I'm fine," I gripped my book, fighting the urge to break in front of him.  "I'm just a little lost in my thoughts."

   "Well then, what's on your mind?"

   "Kaeya, you won't make fun of me if I’m being honest with you right?" I started to speak without thinking.  No, no, no!  What are you about to say?!

   "What makes you think I would?  C’mon, [Y/N].  We joke around a lot but you know I'm good with secrets."

   What are you doing?!  Don’t fall under pressure like this!

   "Well...  I’ve felt quite lonely today.  A little part in me hurts to see so many people enjoying Valentine's Day, knowing fully well that I live alone and spend most of my days alone...   I guess what I’m trying to say is that it was very kind of you to go out of your way to talk to me today, Kaeya.  It means a lot more to me than you know."

   The silence that followed that regurgitation of thoughts was lethal.  Kaeya didn't even stop.  We just kept walking.  I ignored the instant regret that pounded the walls in my head.

   "So you didn't have any plans today?" he asked, as if he had just ignored everything I told him.

   "Not at all.  I was taking a stroll to find a good reading spot for today but seeing so many couples together...  I guess it was like pouring salt into the wound.  That's why I was sitting turned away from everything, if that answers your question from earlier."

   Now you've just told him too much.  If he didn't already think you were sad and lonely before, he definitely thinks so now.

   "You shouldn't isolate yourself like that, [Y/N].  We could've– forget it, actually," he chuckled and rested his hand on the back of his neck as we finally approached our residential complex.

   "Hey, spit it out!" I nudged him with my elbow, "I poured out my thoughts for you, don't get all shy now.  It's your turn."

   We stopped at my front door, exchanging small chuckles.  The space between us was killing me. If only I could get enveloped by his warm embrace now... No!

   "How about I tell you later?  Meet me here in around ten minutes."

   "What?!" I scoffed, "Now you’re just toying with me."

   "Ten minutes," he gave me one last grin and a short wave before jogging away towards his own house.  I shook my head as I turned the key to my door, feeling the slamming of my heart against my ribs and the sloppy mix of awe, nervousness, and regret boiling in my stomach.  His smile was frozen inside my mind like a photograph capturing a memory. It hurt to like him this much.

   A knock on my door ten minutes later pulled me away from tending to my plants on my balcony.  I set the watering can down and rushed to the door, straightening out my clothes once more before opening it.  Contrary to my expectations, Kaeya stood in the doorway with a shy grin, his hands obviously hiding something behind his back.

   "I thought you were joking when you said ten minutes," I scoffed and crossed my arms, looking up at him to meet a pair of soft eyes.

   "Still don't have plans for tonight?" his eyebrows raised with the question.

   "No.  What, are you about to take me out on a date or something?" I said in jest.  He chuckled and uncrossed his arms behind his back with slight hesitation before revealing a dainty bouquet of calla lilies tied with a silver ribbon.  My jaw dropped slightly in shock with the sight of the charming white petals.

   "I am, actually," his voice was gentler and sweeter than usual.  "These are for you."

   He motioned for me to take the bouquet, which I gladly accepted.  The subtle fragrance reminded me of his own scent, which made me smile.  I secretly wished my entire house would smell like this unforgettable aroma – this unforgettable man.

   "[Y/N]," his words were laced with hesitation, "I have been waiting weeks to tell you this but...  you are constantly on my mind.  Whenever I see you my heart jumps and..."

   He chuckled with nervousness.  That grin never fails to make my chest light up.

   "...and I know you're not going to believe me because you say I smooth talk everyone, but I promise you, [Y/N].  I know you see that I’m nervous right now – that doesn't happen to me with anyone else.  This feeling hasn't gone away for months.”  Instant regret suddenly painted his face, which I quickly took notice of.  I stepped closer to him and lifted my hand to gently cup his warm, blushing cheek.  It was my way of telling him to keep talking without interrupting him.

   "[Y/N]..." he blushed more at the touch and sighed, "you are so special to me and... I’ll get straight to the point. I want to be more than friends. I really mean it.”

   He stuffed his hands in his pockets and waited eagerly for my response.  I was no longer thinking properly.  My heart had taken over my mind, and for once, it was for my benefit.

   "Kaeya," my voice cracked with a million emotions at once, "you have no clue how long I’ve wanted to hear you say that.  I am so in love with you it makes me sick," I admitted lightheartedly.

   He laughed with relief, taking another step closer to me and shrinking the space between us.  He lifted his hand to grab mine and intertwined our fingers together.  The mood shifted from nerve wrecking intensity to reassurance and gentleness the instant our palms met.  He caressed my hand with his gloved thumb for reassurance, chasing all my troubles away.  "I promise I will never let you feel alone ever again."

   We stood there staring into each other's eyes for a few moments, exchanging so many mutual emotions in mere seconds.  A blush began to creep up my face as well when he gave my hand a squeeze accompanied with a proud smile.

   "Well, now that we're both blushing messes in love with each other, how about we finally go out tonight?"  Our friendly dynamic finally returned to clear the thickness in the air once he broke the silence.  "I have to admit, I was feeling a little lonely myself and was just going to drink at the tavern with some of the other Knights tonight.”

   "Not anymore, I hope?"

   "Definitely not.  I’d rather spend the evening holding your hand and taking a stroll through the city so everyone knows I’m finally yours."

   This man sure knows how to say the right thing.  I glanced at the bouquet in my arms, partly to hide my reddened face but also to ask, "Could I put these in a vase first?  They're beautiful, by the way. I really love calla lilies.”

   "Oh yes, of course. But they’re not as beautiful as you, cutie," Kaeya said with no reluctance.

 There's the flirty Kaeya that I know.

 I let out a shy laugh as he let go of my hand, the loss of touch making me pout.  As I turned to put the flowers away, he leaned on the doorframe and let out a deep breath.

    "Well, I'll be here.  Don't make me wait too long, now."