#by simply not killing your son

[creachercreates]

Low key I actually get super annoyed at my classmates when they don’t try and actually understand the nuances and themes and tragedy of literature. Like I KNOW logically Romeo and Juliet was a story that could’ve easily been avoided with a little bit of reason THATS THE POINT!!! The characters are flawed and make rushed decisions in the name of what they believe to be love they have different personalities they’re in a Different situation. Constantly criticizing a work bc you believe you could’ve avoided the tragic outcome isn’t the point!!!! That’s the opposite of literature analysis and appreciation!!! Focus on why THESE characters couldn’t, focus on the themes, focus on the messages, focus on the tragedy don’t just make stupid jokes PLEASE

[lgbtlunaverse]

So I've said multipe times now (here and here) that thinking nmj is just so blinded by privilege he doesn't undertand that acting out of line gets people killed is, in my opinion, a misunderstanding of his character that ignores the part where he's, you know, actively dying the whole time and thinks that's a good thing. But that doesn't mean I don't think privilege plays no role at all in how he views the world.

Specifically, his view that death (at least premature or violent death) means something.

Death isn't always a tragedy to NMJ, but it is always meaningful. If you kill an evil dangerous person for your righteous cause, that death had meaning. There was evil in the world and now there is less of it. Similarly, if you die in the pursuit of your righteous cause, that death has meaning, because the sheer dedication you gave to it that you were willing to die for it will further that cause, and your bretheren will be invigorated by your sacrifice to fight even harder.

If a death isn't meaningful, that's an injustice and it is up to the living to give it meaning. That's what cuts so deep about his father's murder. There were no consequences, no changes, no meaning. Wen Ruohan was just going to get away with it! He fights and wins an entire war to make it mean something, to make it so that the unjust murder of Nie Mingjue's father is part of Wen Ruohan's downfall.

But this is a view he can only hold because he's the kind of person who's death will be meaningful. Most ordinary people's deaths are meaningless. Not ontologically, not inherently, but they are made meaningless because no one cares. For death to be meaningful you either have to be so powerful that anything you risk your life for will be impacted in some way. (Like, say, if you sacrifice a long life for immense martial power in a faustian bargain with a blade) Or if people with that kind of power care enough about you to do so for you. For most people, this isn't true. A starving street kid has no power to change the unfair world that put them there, even if they risk their life trying, and no one will do it for them once they die.

Nie Mingjue knows this in abstract, and of course rightfully believes it's wrong. But all that does is make it yet another righteous cause people should be willing to die for. Everyone's deaths should mean something, we'll make it so or die trying!

This is what the conflict between nieyao is about at its core. Because Jin Guangyao, fundamentally, cannot conceive of his own death as meaningful. Nie Mingjue grew up around powerful men who could change the world but refuse to do so because god forbid they risk a single hair on their perfect heads. Meng Yao, on the other hand, grew up in an environment where no one of importance would blink twice if you died. He was surrounded by meaningless death. Indeed his entire early life is defined by that lack of care.

Meng Shi dies and no one cares. Meng Yao gets thrown off a flight off stairs and no one cares. He has to be the one to do the caring, and once he's gone no one else will do it for him.

So he has to live.

Jin Guangyao eventually gets far enough that he actually does aquire the power to change some things... as long as he's alive. If he changes too much, holds on too tightly to his ideals, he'll die and it'll all be for nothing. He can't sacrifice himself for his goals because doing so would immediately render those goals unobtainable. No one will care about what he tried to do. He won't be a heroic sacrifice, he'll just be trash that finally cleaned itself up.

And well... Nie Mingjue dies, and someone makes it mean something. Makes it mean so much that the entire story of mdzs would not exist without it. Jin Guangyao dies and it doesn't mean anything. Most people are glad to be rid of him, and the few that are not don't do anything to change that.

[bijoumikhawal]

"historically polygamous societies loved to wage war and slavery to dispose of excess men and emphasize female conversion" okay all those things are true of monogamous societies too. Western Europeans are famously probably the best at war and slavery from the current standpoint and they're monogamous. And from the way you wrote that I can tell you were thinking of the middle east so what the fuck

[icewindandboringhorror]

More misc. daily life pictures and such

[plasticsandwich]

the impossible question. rice or burger

what kind of sick fuck you think you are knocking down my door thinking you can ask that question

[deus-and-the-machina]

I havent really been into the current state of the JJK manga for a while, im at the point where its ending might hold some value for me as someone who was already invested in the characters but largely aside from seeing how a few things pan out I just really really couldn't care less. 

that being said I have to thank gege for every new chapter giving us more and more good looking Gojos. the more feral and covered in blood the better, and hoo boy am I getting that.

[dnalt-d2]

(probably gonna delete this later idk)

So this isn't Q S M P related but I need to scream into some uncaring void about this so

But I just spent MUCH longer on a project than I really should have (because life is a bitch and chooses the worst times to decide to kick you in the nonexistent dick) and WAY too much of said project was some very tedious nonsense

Like not difficult, but irritating and time-consuming. Basically arranging things in a way to look more coherent in a project file

And of course, I finish it, I get it all done, but decide to add one last part, and subsequently place it where it needs to go

Only to accidentally click on the wrong button

And find out

That there's been a shortcut to this thing I've been doing

This entire goddamn time

LITERALLY mere moments after finishing the project

If anyone needs me,

Don't

[creepyclothdoll]

The Devil's Wheel

The Devil’s Wheel

“If you say yes,” said the Devil, “a single man, somewhere in the world, will be killed on the spot. But three million dollars is nothing to sneeze at, missus.”

“What’s the catch?” You squint at him suspiciously over the red-and-black striped carnival booth. You’re smarter than he thinks you are– a devil deal always has a catch, and you’re determined to catch him before he catches you. 

“Well, the catch is that you’ll know you did it. And I’ll know, too. And the big man upstairs’ll know, I ‘spose. But what’s the chariot of salvation without a little sin to grease the wheels? You can repent from your mansion balcony, looking out at your waterfront views, sipping a bellini in your eighties. But hey, it’s up to you– take my deal or leave it.”

The Devil lights a cigar without a match, taking an inhale, and blowing out a cloud of deep, sweet-smelling tobacco laced faintly with something that reminds you of rotten eggs. If he does have horns, they’re hidden under his lemon yellow carnival barker hat. He wears a clean pinstripe suit and a red bowtie. No cloven hooves, no big pointy fork, but you know he’s the Devil without having to be told. Though he did introduce himself.

He’s been perfectly polite. 

You know you need the money. He knows it too, or he wouldn’t have brought you here, to this strange dark room, whisking you away from your new house in the suburbs as fast as a wish. Now you’re in some sort of warehouse, where all the windows seem to be blacked out– or, maybe, they simply look out into pitch darkness, though it is the middle of the day. A single white spotlight shines down on the two of you. 

“Wait a minute, wait a minute,” you say. “I bet the man is someone I know, right? My husband?”

“Could be,” the Devil says with a pointed grin. “That’s for the wheel to decide.”

He steps back and raises his black-gloved hand as the tarp flies off of the large veiled object behind him. The light of the carnival wheel nearly blinds you. Blinking lights line the sides. Jingling music blares over speakers you can’t see. The flickering sign above it reads:

THE DEVIL’S WHEEL

“Step right up and claim your fortune,” the Devil barks. “Spin the wheel and pay the price! Or leave now, and a man keeps his life.”

You examine the wheel. 

The gambling addict

The doting boyfriend

The escaped convict

The dog dad

The secretive sadist

“These are all the possible men I can kill?” You ask, thumbing the side of the wheel. It rolls smoothly in your hand. Then you quickly stop, realizing that this might constitute a spin under the Devil’s rules. He flashes a smile at you, watching you halt its motion. 

“Addicts, convicts, murderers– plenty of terrible options for you to land on, missus!”

“Serial wife murderer?”

“Now who would miss a fellow like that? I can guarantee that the whole world would be better off without him in it, and that’s a fact.”

The hard worker

The compulsive liar

The animal torturer

The widower

The desperate businessman

The failed musician

The beloved son

“My husband is on here too,” you say. 

“Your husband Dave, yes. The wheel has to be fair, otherwise there’s simply no stakes.”

“I know what’s gonna happen,” you say, crossing your arms. “This wheel is rigged. I’m gonna spin it around, and it’ll go through all the killers and stuff, and then it’s gonna land on my husband no matter what.”

“Why, I would never disgrace the wheel that way,” the Devil says, wounded. “I swear on my own mother’s grave– may she never escape it. In fact, take one free spin, just to test it out! This one’s on me, no death, no dollars.”

You cautiously reach up to the top of the wheel and feel its heaviness in your hand. The weight of hundreds of lives. But also, millions of dollars. You pull the wheel down and let it go.

Clackity-clackity-clackity-clackity

Round and round it goes. 

The college graduate

The hockey fan

The Eagle Scout

The cold older brother

The charming younger brother

The two-faced middle child

The perfectionist

The slob 

Your husband Dave

Clackity-clackity-clackity.

Finally, the wheel lands on a name. A title, really.

The photographer

“Hmm, tough, missus, but that’s the way of the wheel. But hey, look! Your husband is allllll the way over here,” he points with his cane to the very bottom of the wheel, all the way on the other side from where the arrow landed. “As you can see, it’s not rigged. The wheel truly is random.”

“So… there really isn’t another catch?” You ask. 

“Isn’t it enough for you to end a man’s life? You need a steeper price? If you’re really such a glutton for punishment, I’ll gladly re-negotiate the terms.”

“No, no… wait.” You examine the wheel, glancing between it and the Devil.

You really could use that three million dollars. Newly married, new house, you and your husband’s combined debt– those student loans really follow you around. He’s quite a bit older than you, and even he hasn’t paid them off yet, to the point where the whole time you were dating you watched him stress out about money. You had to have a small, budget wedding, and a small, budget honeymoon. Three million dollars could be big for the two of you. You could re-do your honeymoon and go somewhere nice, like Hawaii, instead of just taking two weeks in Atlantic City. You deserve it. 

Even so, do you really want to kill an innocent photographer? Or an innocent seasonal allergy sufferer? Or an innocent blogger? Just because you don’t know or love these people doesn’t mean that someone doesn’t. 

The cancer survivor

The bereaved

The applicant

Some of these were so vague. They could be anyone, honestly. Your neighbors, your father, your friends…

The newlywed

The ex-gifted kid

The uncle

The Badgers fan

“My husband is a Badgers fan,” you say.

“How lovely,” the Devil says. 

Then it hits you.

Of course.

The weightlifter.

The careful driver.

The manager.

The claustrophobe.

Your husband Dave lifts weights at the gym twice a month. You wouldn’t call him a pro, but he does it. He also drives like he’s got a bowl of hot soup in his lap all the time, because he’s afraid of being pulled over. He just got promoted to management at his company, and he takes the stairs to his seventh-story office because he hates how small and cramped the elevator is.

“I get your game,” you announce. “You thought you could get me, but I figured you out, jackass!” “Oh really? What is my game, pray tell?” The Devil responds, leaning against his cane.

“All these different titles– they’re all just different ways to describe the same guy. My husband isn’t one notch on the wheel, he’s every notch. No matter what I land on, Dave dies. I’m wise to your tricks!” 

The Devil cackles. 

“You’re a clever one, that’s for sure. I thought you’d never figure it out.”

“Thanks but no thanks, man,” you say with a triumphant smirk. “I’m no rube. No deal. Take me back home.”

“As you wish, missus,” the Devil says. He snaps his fingers, and you’re gone, back to your brand-new house with your new husband. “Don’t say I never tried to help anyone.”

[jasontoddsno1simp]

The untapped comedic potential of Jason being blamed every time Tim goes missing, but he can't even remember what the guy looks like. After the third or fourth time Dick or Bruce barges into one of his safe houses to interrogate him (and ends up getting shot in the process), Jason threatens to actually kidnap the guy (he has no actual plan to, but he wants to see how far he can push this) since they've so convinced he's obsessed with him.

what direction do you think they should have gone in with jason? as in where should he be now in terms of people and what he's doing

i think winick had it exactly right green arrow #69-72 and batman & robin #23-25. he was a villain but he had a Method and a Purpose. and usually that purpose was just to fuck with batman. i loooove it when hes a villain and hes very clearly doing bad things, but hes not just indiscriminately killing people. hes doing it for a reason, hes still doing the same thing he was doing in utrh by controlling the drug trade, and even when hes doing the right thing hes being an asshole about it

i especially love the ga issues because jason doesnt even talk to batman but bruce KNOWS what hes doing and he knows its about him. i love the bruce & jason post-utrh dynamic where they've both pretty much said everything they have to say and neither of them is changing their position, so now jason is just starting fires to get attention. "ok bruce you dont want to talk to me? thats fine. ill just follow you to star city then psychologically torture a teenage girl then blow her up in front of you" icon! i forgive him! i think its so fun when red hood is a member of batman's rogues gallery and bruce feels bad every time he fights him but also he kinda cant stand him since he knows jason is only doing it to mess with him and its working. but also jason is a Greater Good person so he DOES end up working with the bats sometimes just because theyre also working on the good side

anyways the ideal bruce & jason dynamic to me is "the love was there and it made everything so much worse" because jason is doing everything for bruces attention because he loves him and wants him to care about him but hes not willing to budge on his own morals and neither is bruce. and bruce loves jason so he doesnt want to arrest him or put him in danger but also hes killing people and doing terrible things and bruce is batman so he feels obligated to. yk. stop him. and as much as they both love each other they do not like each other at all

in my mind jason doesnt really care about any of the other bats besides dick & babs just because he knew them before he died so hes willing to hang out with them but they Do Not want to see him. like in brothers in blood when jason goes hiiiii dick <3 lets hang out <3333 and dick is constantly suppressing the cain instinct. he never really talks to babs pre52 i think theyre interactions would be very similar in that jason goes hey babs ur so cool <33 and she says jason get the fuck away from me or im activating the bomb in your helmet <3

but also with steph even though he didnt know her pre-death,, i think he would like her. i can imagine him doing something very similar to what he did with mia, basically finding her and going "quit your vigilante career. join my emo band" but i think she would end up being a lot more receptive to it than mia was ! like im thinking batgirl 2009 era steph so she would not be on board with the idea of joining him since things were going well with team batgirl, but i also think that any interaction between the two of them in that era would go well and end with them getting along :)

as for everyone else. i dont think he would care about any of them. theyre just kinda collateral damage in his war with bruce. like he gets involved with them sometimes just because of their proximity to bruce, or like i said earlier that he works with them sometimes because he cares about the greater good so is willing to help them when necessary. also honorable mention to aoifa's headcanon that jason doesnt actually know tims name because he just does not care. thats canon to me

so yeah in conclusion: he should be a morally grey villain that does what he does either for the greater good, or to fuck with batman, or both. and he has complicated relationships with all of them bc he likes bruce dick and babs but also kinda hates all of them and they like but also hate him too. and the rest of them he doesn't really give a shit about

[falesten-iw]

Warning: Long Post No one reads long texts anymore, but despite everything I've been through with my country, my family, and recently my son, I need to get this off my chest. It's completely unbelievable to me that so many people still don't understand the background of the genocide in Palestine. What kind of journalists or influencers do we have today? Are they too afraid to report and remind their audiences about the real story behind what's happening now? No, it's not just one year of suffering! It's outrageous how the media consistently ignores what Palestinians have been enduring for decades. Have they, or you, even bothered to look at the statistics of how many Palestinians have been killed by Israel since 1948? How many children have been killed? Who holds the responsibility for what's happening now? I often wonder: what if the situation Palestinians face was applied somewhere else? For example, what if, after World War II, the West had decided that all Jews should have a state in the USA—let’s say Chicago—how would the people of Chicago have reacted? Imagine the people there being driven off the land their families had worked for generations, stripped of their rights, and harassed or persecuted if they resisted. Do international laws simply not apply when ### is involved? Do you know that people in Gaza are killed simply for fun? Yes, for fun! Israeli soldiers have been known to shoot women, children, and even animals on the spot, then walk away. Did you feel the wind when those shots were fired? Or was it too far away for you? Do you understand what death means? Good. Do you know why there are so many Palestinians living in different countries, or maybe even right next door to you, even though they smell like hummus, garlic, za'atar, and other traditional foods? Do you know why your neighbors are Palestinian and not Israeli? It's because we've been forced to flee since 1948. Our cities were erased then, and more are still being erased—through violence, through apartheid laws, through genocide, through different methods. Ilan Pappe, an Israeli historian, wrote a book about hundreds of Palestinian cities that were erased to create the Israel you know today. This isn't a war that started a few days ago or even a year ago—this has been going on since at least 1948. More than 45,000 have been killed in Gaza just in the past year alone. 17 000 of them are children, and 13 000 are women. Do you even know what that means? How it feels to lose your children or part of your family? Are you going to tell us how it feels? Do you have no empathy? Is your heart so closed that you can't see the pain around you? Are you really so blind to the suffering of others? How can you ignore these realities? Do you know that the Israeli military has cut off all electricity and completely halted the import of food, water, fuel, and other necessities? There are no hospitals and no medicines left, and 85% of people in Gaza are living in makeshift tents. Yes, tents—but not like the ones you see in movies. These are handmade from plastic scraps. Do you know that my family is suffering from all of this, and I will lose them in this cold weather if you don't act now? Please help us and donate now!

Vetted and shared by @90-ghost: Link.

Verified and shared by @el-shab-hussein: Link

Listed as number 282 in "The Vetted Gaza Evacuation Fundraiser Spreadsheet" compiled by @el-shab-hussein and @nabulsi : Link

Listed on the Butterfly Effect Project, number 957: Link

Additionally, Al Jazeera News has documented apart of my family's case: Link

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[teddybeartoji]

going to the beach with toji and kids for the first time ever. it's only the beginning of your relationship, it's all kind of new – toji doesn't know what's about to hit him. sure, he's seen you with megumi and tsumiki before, but this? this is something else.

not only is his heart doing flips at the sight of the big smiles and the loud bursts of laughter you're managing to pull out of his kids, you're also wearing a fucking bikini. he hasn't seen this much of you before – the furthest you've gone during the late hours of the nights are steamy, handsy makeouts. he did take your shirt off the last time he had you below him but then you were interrupted by the little spiky haired boy, sniffling about a bad dream. after grabbing a blanket to cover you up, toji rested his forehead against your warm skin, grumbling something under his breath before looking up at you with soft eyes. you weren't mad – quite the opposite; you ruffled his hair and cradled his face, a gentle smile splayed on your lips. you pressed a haste kiss to his nose and then ushered him off of you, whispering something about his adorable son. toji scoffed. and smiled to himself.

the bikini. is killing him. he doesn't know what to do with himself. the scene playing in front of him is heart-warming and he should only be thinking about that, but how can he? the material is barely covering anything and you just look so... fucking good.

sitting in the shade, toji let's his head loll back, his eyes closing as he rests his hand over his face with a groan. he can't do it anymore. he's doing brain exercises to not pop the hardest boner of his life and you are not making it any easier when you keep giving him the prettiest smiles. you're happy, the kids are happy – everything should be good, but no – here he is, suffering because his parter looks fucking amazing. the fact that this is even a problem is mind-baffling to him. he is a strong man, no person is going to get to him just by being beauti—

"could you pass me the water, please?"

you're out to get him, he's sure of it.

toji peeks from under his hand and he's immediately blinded by a devil in disguise. the sun shines from behind you like a halo and the grin on your lips reaches behind your ears. sweat coats your skin and it makes toji's mouth salivate. what the fuck are you doing to him? hands on your hips, you stare down at your boyfriend and you give him another second to collect himself before quirking up a brow.

"toji?" you sound like a siren, you're pulling him in with your silky smooth tone. "the water, please?"

the corners of your eyes crinkle as you smile and toji has never moved faster in his entire life. "right."

he reaches for the bottle in the cooler beside him and gives it to you while making sure to look at you in the eyes and nowhere else. it's unbelievably hard – especially when the water starts trickling from the corners of your mouth and down your neck. toji gulps before turning to look at his kids instead. gumi's brows are furrowed as he's building his sandcastle while miki is busy building hers. toji cracks a grin.

"they're so– fucking cute." you whisper when you curse, a playful smile on your lips as you gush about the kids.

you love them so much already and you're glad that they seem to be liking you a lot too. that makes toji very happy; when the kids ask about you when they haven't seen you in a few days, when you do the same – he knows you really might be the one. it's a big thing to say, to even think, but he can't help it. it simply seems... right.

the water bottle hangs in front of his face and he's pulled away from his thoughts again. he goes to grab it and when he does, your free hand reaches out to him. warm finger wrap around his wrist and he melts at the soft, gentle touch. "come play with us."

a groan bubbles from his throat but it couldn't be any further from an annoyed one – you're sweet and you're excited, you're pretty and you're patient; you always welcome him and the kids with open arms and a bright smile. she would've loved you.

he throws the bottle aside and wraps his own hand around your own. "ya wanna play or the kids wanna play?"

his raspy voice and the stupidly handsome smirk he gives you make butterflies bloom and dance in your stomach. he makes you giddy, he makes you happy.

"i wanna play." you tug at him. "and the kids wanna play."

he can't say no to his little blessings and he can't say no to you. maybe running around will help clear his mind from the mischievious thoughts in his head. he doubts it, but he's needs to try.

in one swift move, he pulls your hand to his mouth while pretending to bite you and his eyes fucking twinkle when he sees your cute surprised expression and hears your little gasp. there's a moment, a second of the most comfortable silence before the corners of your lips twitch and you yank away from his hold, booking it towards gumi and miki with a loud cackle as toji pushes off the chair and takes off after you with fast steps.

your cheeks hurt from laughing as you watch toji catch megumi; he lifts gumi up with just one hand while tsumiki tries to poke her dad in the ribs in order for him to let boy go. when he finally lets the kids go... you feel his eyes on you. adrenaline pumps in your veins and you feel like a deer caught in the headlights of a car. you can't stop grinning. he can't either. a pair of arms wrap around your middle and your feet are being lifted up above the ground before you can even react.

while the kids are doubled over, running and stumbling over their own feet, toji growls in your ear. "gotcha."

you will take the next step today. no snotty kid of his will cockblock him again – they will be tired from the day and you will be all his to take care of. he'll show you his appreciation for being so good to him and the kids, for being so kind. and so... fucking hot.

he presses a kiss to your jaw but cringes when gumi and miki dramatically scream 'ew' at him. you feel him getting even warmer, his cheeks heating up and you try to save him by shooing the kids with a laugh. toji is grateful. he's happy that you're here.

[bruciemilf]

Jason’s alcohol tolerance is exactly 0.09%, which Dick knows. Which is the primary reason he roped his siblings into playing a drinking game.

At most, Steph, who likes to think she’s fluent in Jason, — or Batboys with repressed emotions, at least, — anticipated the following:

Angry shouting, maybe some swear words God definetly didn’t approve of, trying to fist fight Alfred’s plants, painting the Batmobile pink, and the works.

She definitely didn’t expect a ruby cheeked Jason to cry in Bruce’s lap.

“What the fuck are we gonna do if we don’t know eachother in the next life, huh?!”

Tim piped up with an a nerdy rant, — technically, if life were to reinvent itself into another existence, it’d simply be an alternative universe being created, — but Jason simply throws his shoe at him.

Bruce, much to Damian’s pride, doesn’t look shaken in the slightest. If he can handle his mother, he can handle everything,

“Sweetheart, I really think that’s not going to happen, thought,” he assures him with gentle conviction.

“But we’re not gonna know eachother! What the FUCK. I want to be your son in every life. I’m gonna kill God.”

“Please don’t kill God.”

“We’re Jewish, what do we care?!”

“Jay,” Bruce promised, “I would find you in every universe.”

That was supposed to make Jason feel better, not make him cry harder. But it’s cute Bruce tried, Dick thinks.

He still grounds all of them for paining the Batmobile, thought.

[lemonlover1110]

Toji Fushiguro

Summary: Megumi hates nap time, a fuss that Toji isn't willing to deal with.

Warnings: Fluff

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi - Bluesky

“It’s nap time, Megumi.” Toji tells his four-year-old, a child who listens to no one– No one but you, of course. Whatever his mommy says, goes. But little Megumi doesn’t hold the same sentiment with his father.

“I’m not sleepy.” Megumi crosses his arms, becoming pouty at the mere suggestion of a nap. He’s too old for napping. He’s not little anymore, he’s four. Why doesn’t his dad understand?

“Oh, you’re sleeping.” Toji replies, unwilling to listen to argue with a four-year-old about nap time of all things. The child is just like him, if he doesn’t get enough sleep, he’s grumpy for the rest of the day. 

“Come here, shadow.” Megumi ignores him, calling for the dog that’s nearby.

“Leave the stupid hedgehog alone.” Toji responds, picking up the child from the ground and carrying him to the bedroom. Toji can only pray that one day Megumi will wake up and obey his father, but sadly, today is not that day.

“He’s a dog! He goes woof!” Megumi yells, kicking his feet in the air as his father carries him. When Toji finally puts him down, it’s on the bed which fills the child’s little heart with rage. He’s not sleepy, why is he being forced to sleep?

“Your mom is coming home soon, you don’t want her to find you misbehaving, do you?” Toji asks, and Megumi refuses to listen to whatever Toji has to say. Yeah, the old man brought you up and all that but Megumi simply isn’t sleepy. 

Megumi refuses to look at his father, and Toji begins to look for one of those stupid books that you read to get the child to sleep. Is that the key? Toji doubts it, but he’ll try anything to get Megumi to fall asleep. Watching after the child is an annoyance at times, Toji wants to be able to watch TV without worrying about Megumi putting a dog toy in his mouth. 

“Here. Let’s read– Goodnight Moon.” Toji reads the title, laying down beside Megumi. 

“It’s not even out yet.” Megumi argues, making Toji roll his eyes. What a sassy mouth. Toji opens the book, a yawn escaping his lips before he reads the first line.

“In the great green room–”

“This is boring!” Megumi cuts him off, which earns a hard cold glare from the man. A look that seems to solve all of Toji’s problems. Megumi becomes intimidated for a second, muttering, “Sorry.”

“There was a telephone,” Toji continues, another yawn escaping his lips. He feels a little head fall on his chest, noting that Megumi seems to have changed his mind. Is it interest in the book or the tiny detail that Megumi now feels scared? 

Toji’s free hand goes to the top of Megumi’s head, caressing the soft hair of the child. Regardless of how difficult the child is, Toji would die and kill for Megumi. There’s no one he loves more than the little rascal. 

“Oh, man.” Toji yawns again. How does this even work? He might fall asleep before Megumi at this pace– But then his eyes fall on the child, whose eyes are shutting on their own. At least it’s working, even if Toji is falling asleep as well.

“Keep…” Megumi murmurs, drifting off. He attempts to tell his father to keep reading, but he doesn’t have enough energy to finish. This is the same child who was set on fighting his father.

It doesn’t take long for Toji to follow Megumi’s suit, lightly snoring beside his son in a matter of seconds. 

[tender-rosiey]

How do you think sukuna would act with a baby girl?? The same as his son? Maybe a bit more soft since he reminds him of reader?

troublesome — ryomen sukuna x f!reader

a/n: i have something else in store for geto <3

sukuna never planned on becoming a parent, but then you became pregnant. he had two choices: kill the kid from now or let you give birth to it.

he spent a good couple of days deciding on what to do, until he finally made his mind and headed to your room, swiftly. there you were in all your glory, eyes snapping to your husband the moment he entered.

you smiled, standing up, “hey, sukuna.” then walked to him and placed a small kiss on his cheek.

he, however, said nothing and simply kept staring you down then he said a simple phrase, “the kid.”

your eyes widened, your thoughts jumbled, and your nerves were all over the place. still, you manage to get out a response, “what about it?”

he stayed silent, and it drove you over the edge. you needed him to say something—anything. will he let you have it, or will he kill it? he was never fond of kids, always killed them first in his raids. will your own child with him bear the same fate as the others he had slaughtered and even eaten?

is this a joke from the universe? you married the king of curses, and, therefore, your punishment is never getting to experience the joy of having kids? but even if he does end up choosing wanting to kill it, how will he—

“I will let you keep it.”

you never thought a simple sentence would induce so much happiness in you. you cup his face and  start showering him in kisses, and you unceasingly thank him, “thank you, sukuna! thank you so much!”

he grunts, hand resting on your waist, “just don’t cause me trouble, and it better be a boy.” he takes hold of your chin and makes you lock eyes with him, “I don’t want a whiny, slimy little girl.”

and because the world loves him so much, he was indeed graced with a whiny, slimy little girl.

the moment the woman announced that it’s a girl, your face paled, and your husband’s frown could’ve never been deeper. his eyes traced every action that happened from the cleaning of the baby to the little girl being nestled cozily in your arms.

she starts calming down when she feels the warmth of your skin against her own. slowly, her breathing evens out, and she falls into a deep slumber.

the servants rush out of the room, leaving you, your husband, and your newborn daughter.

you don’t know what to do: do you speak first or do you wait for him to do it? you keep searching his face for any positive emotion, something that would give you hope and make you forget about his sharp scowl.

he puts a hand out and orders, “hand her to me.”

your heart fell to your stomach. there’s nothing you could do. whatever he decided on was what will happen. you desperately wanted to hold her for a bit longer and to feel her comforting weight in your arms.

though, your husband got impatient, eyes sharply looking you in the eyes, and he glowered, “y/n.”

despite your heart screaming and trying to resist ever letting him touch a single hair on your baby, you shakily put her in his hand. she starts huffing, puffing, and squirming in his hold. fearing the worst, you squeezed your eyes shut.

you simply won’t be able to take witnessing your daughter’s slaughter with your very own eyes.

you expect to hear a slash, a little thud, but you’re met with nothing, just a groan from your husband as he mutters, “she is small.”

you blink owlishly then stare at him. he is slowly raising and lowering the hand—an attempt to rock her maybe—that has your baby in it. then, he situates her against his chest.

he looks up to you and states, “she is also ugly.”

frowning, you retort, “that’s because of your genes.”

your husband quirks an eyebrow, “you’re balantly insulting me even after I spared it?”

“her.”

“same difference.”

sukuna shuffles until he is seated beside you and silently pulls you into his embrace.

you just took notice of how he is trying to avoid touching her with his nails and how his hold on her is rather gentle. the little girl lets out a small sigh then snuggles into his chest. her dad copies her with a sigh of his own then he grunts, “not a single word.”

a small giddy giggle escapes you, and you nuzzle into his chest in turn. he squeezes you lightly, before scoffing, “or a sound.”

later on that day, after you were transferred into the master bedroom along with your daughter, you’re left to rest in the expansive bed with your daughter napping in the crib right under the window.

you thought the light might give her some sort of comfort—call it a mother’s instinct. you wanted her to grow up in the light, not to be sheltered and hidden in shadows. who knows if these shadows will devour whole or not.

but you will try your best to provide her with a normal life.

as you start to drift off to sleep, you take note of a large figure standing in front of the window. he is blocking the light from sky—at least the one from the window above her crib. quickly, you are able to define its features and identify that it’s—thank god—your husband.

he has this sort of contemplating look on his face, a solemn look, maybe a bit troubled too. he keeps staring at the sleeping baby as she takes small and slow breaths.

she is fragile, he knows. he also knows that a flick of his finger will end her right then and there.

but he finds his hand only capable of gently caressing her cheek, and a wave of shock is sent through him when his daughter leans toward his touch. his daughter. he heaves a sigh and a frown is etched onto his face.

this is going to be a troublesome journey.

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copyright © tender-rosiey

do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported

[bunnis-monsters]

Platonic!yandere bee hybrid sons that refuse to let anyone touch their queen. In this scenario, you were taken against your will to be a queen, forced to pump out eggs.

You’re their mama, and they’re tired of others using you!

When you could no longer incubate eggs, they planned on killing you and capturing a new queen… but your sons wouldn’t have it!

You’re tired, you need to rest and be pampered and they’re here to make sure you never go without proper care!

The original bee hybrids hadn’t been kind enough to you, simply using your body to create more bee hybrids, but what they didn’t know is that you would create the most loyal sons that would free you from your captivity and slaughter those who would even think about laying a hand on their precious mama!

They take you to a quiet place, taking care of their mama and forming cuddle piles, all buzzing comfortingly and making sure you’re happy and safe. They never want to see you in pain again.

All you ever did was love them, make sure they grew up knowing that they could be anyone they wanted. And they all wanted to be your protectors.

They just had to take down the hive, and now you could retire with your family. Your little ones clung to your breast, feeding as your older sons focused on maintaining the hive and ensuring you’d never have to worry about producing eggs again. They didn’t care if the hive ended with their generation, they wanted you to have a peaceful and happy life!

Their fuzzy bodies and soft chubby faces all nuzzle and snuggle into you from every angle. To be loved is to be protected and cherished above all else, and you were loved dearly.

[prokopetz]

Something I love about The Far Roofs is how much of a swerve its premise is if you're coming to it uninitiated.

Okay, so there's these talking rats with a culture of swashbuckling heroism – basic Redwall/Reepicheep stuff.

Also, there's a magical realm called the Far Roofs which exists above every human community, and that's where the rats go adventuring; a little weird, but you can see the precedents in popular fiction. It's like wainscot fantasy taken to its logical-yet-absurd conclusion.

By default, the game wants you to play as a fictionalised version of your (presumably human!) self and go up onto the Far Roofs to have adventures with the rats. All right, now it's coming together: it's like isekai fantasy meets The Muppet Show, with you as the obligatory human character, right?

Then we get to the nature of those adventures: the rats have this whole culture built around questing against beings they call "the Mysteries" – beasties with names like Harpy and Goblin and Unicorn. So basically it's a bunch of muppety rats on the roofs fighting Dungeons & Dragons monsters, and you go up and help them do it. Great.

And then you get to what the Mysteries are actually like, and... well, I'm going to let the following excerpt carry the weight here. (This particular bit of text also appears in a previously published work by the same author, so I'm not giving anything away that's still under wraps.)

Unicorn, which is named Numinous, dwells three steps away and beyond the world, but most often in the Farthest Roofs, where the Steppes of the Sky come down to touch the Vast and Earthen Court. There it is stepping upwards from the world, as it has always been stepping upwards from the world, caught in a moment of transcendent glory that does not complete. It simply is. Melanthios heard the footsteps of Unicorn. Melanthios heard the ringing of Unicorn’s bells. So Melanthios chased Unicorn off to the Farthest Roofs, and Melanthios did not return. Anton and Karel, who were his sons, were wiser than their father. They heard the bells but they did not follow. Instead, they memorized the scent. They gathered swords, and ropes, and nets, and they went out. They brought food and water and all manner of gear. They clung to the roofs with all four feet wheresoever after Unicorn they went. It proved no good. Anton looked up, and Karel to his brother. The world came down— That’s what Karel said. He had time to look away. He had time to bury his head in his paws. He did not see the fullness of Unicorn’s presence. He only saw Anton his brother become unreal. In the light of the moment of the Unicorn, Anton became as a paper figure in the fire. His reality burned out. His shadow seared into the roofs behind him. Where he’d stood, for just a moment, the Steppes of the Sky came down to touch the Vast and Earthen Court; and Anton was gone away. So Karel ran and Karel ran and Karel ran from the Unicorn; and all his life, he envied but was more fortunate than his brother.

These are gods. You're going up there to kill God.

Like, it's still silly wainscot fantasy with funny talking rats, but there's that tension. It's like if Fraggle Rock occasionally took a hard turn to serious cosmic horror – Lord Dunsany by way of Jim Henson – and that tonal juxtaposition was treated as something unremarkable.

Basically what I'm saying is go back The Far Roofs.