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redgoldsparks · 13 days ago

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I am not excited about Harris as a candidate, but I will be voting for her in this upcoming election. This is why→

(full transcript under the cut)

I AM VOTING AGAINST THIS

“Transgender ideology” to be classified as pornography & excluded from First Amendment protection. Authors who produce & distribute it threatened with prison. Educators & public librarians who share it classed as registered sex offenders. communications & technology firms that facilitate its spread shuttered. -Project 2025, page 5

Delete the terms sexual orientation, gender identity, diversity, equity, & inclusion, gender equality, abortion, reproductive health, reproductive rights, out of every federal rule, contract, grant, regulation, & piece of legislation that exist. -Project 2025 page 5

I AM VOTING AGAINST THIS

Victimization should not be a basis for an immigration benefit. -Project 2025, page 141

Increase all fees for asylum applications, limit the availability of fee waivers. -Project 2025, page 146

Mandatory appropriation for border wall system infrastructure. -Project 2025, page 147

Deny loan access to those who are not U.S. citizens or lawful permanent residents & deny loan access to students at schools that provide in-state tuition to illegal aliens. -Project 2025, page 167

Ensure that only U.S. citizens & lawful permanent residents utilize or occupy federally subsidized housing. -Project 2025, page 167

I AM VOTING AGAINST THIS

Encourage intelligence agencies not to waste effort collecting surveillance data when they can buy it from private sector facial recognition companies. -Project 2025, page 206

Defund the Corporation for Public Broadcast, specifically NPR & PBS educational programs like Sesame Street. -Project 2025, pages 246-247

The USDA will not be able to place environmental issues ahead of agricultural production. Reconsider the Food Stamps program. -Project 2025, page 290

Labeling regulations that unnecessarily delay the manufacture & sale of baby formula should be re-evaluated. -Project 2025, page 302

I AM VOTING AGAINST THIS

Eliminate the Community Eligibility Program which allows school districts with high rates of poverty to offer meals to all students without having to qualify each student individually. No longer provide meals to students during the summer unless students are taking summer-school classes. -Project 2025, page 303

No public education employee shall use a pronoun in addressing a student that is different from that student’s biological sex without written permission of the parents or guardians. -Project 2025 page 346

Delete reporting on which educational institutions claim religious exemption from Title IX. -Project 2025 page 357

I AM VOTING AGAINST THIS

Gut the Office for Civil Rights’ power to prosecute any kind of discrimination in public schools. -Project 2025, page 357

Eliminate the Office of Fossil Energy & Carbon Management -Project 2025 page 377

Eliminate the stand-alone Office of Environmental Justice & External Civil Rights -Project 2025, page 421

Restructure the Office of International & Tribal Affairs into the American Indian Environmental Office -Project 2025, page 421

Eliminate the Office of Public Engagement & Environmental Education -Project 2025, page 421

Pause all action of the Environmental Protection Agency for review. -Project 2025, page 422

I AM VOTING AGAINST THIS

Center for Disease Control stripped of the ability to suggest that schools embrace masking or vaccination strategies. -Project 2025, page 454

All states will be required to submit detailed information about pregnancies, abortions & miscarriages to a federal database. -Project 2025, page 455

The medication Mifepristone, a life-saving drug used to stop deadly postpartum hemorrhages that’s also used in chemical abortions, will be banned. -Project 2025, pages 458-459

Artificial intelligence should be used to determine what is suitable treatment for those currently covered by Medicare. -Project 2025, page 463

I AM VOTING AGAINST THIS

Repeal the Inflation Reduction Act, which implements government price controls for prescription drugs. -Project 2025, page 465

Funding for abortion travel prohibited under the Hyde Amendment. -Project 2025, page 471

End taxpayer funding of Planned Parenthood. -Project 2025, page 471

Withdraw Medicaid funds for states that require abortion insurance. -Project 2025, page 472

Hospitals will no longer be willing to perform emergency abortions, even to save the life of the mother. -Project 2025, page 473

I AM VOTING AGAINST THIS

Rescind the Department of Health & Human Services' ability to impose a moratorium on rental evictions during COVID. -Project 2025, page 492

Rescind large portions of The Endangered Species Act & The Migratory Bird Treaty Act, reinstate Trump’s plan for opening the National Petroleum Reserve of Alaska to leasing and development. -Project 2025, page 524

Review & downsize national monuments. -Project 2025, page 532

End the Endangered Species Act’s ability to prevent economic development & de-list many currently endangered species. -Project 2025, pages 533-534

I AM VOTING AGAINST THIS

Make it harder for workers to unionize & easier for employers to retaliate against whistleblowers & organizers. -Project 2025, pages 601-602

TikTok classified as a national security concern & made non-operational. -Project 2025, page 674

Break up National Oceanic & Atmospheric Administration, including National Weather Service & National Marine Fisheries Service. -Project 2025, page 674

Downsize the Office of Oceanic & Atmospheric Research; disband its climate-change research work. -Project 2025 page 676

AND SO MUCH MORE.

The full text of Project 2025 is available at static.project2025.org/2025_MandateForLeadership_FULL.pdf I am very grateful to stopproject2025comic.org which produced a series of very readable comics to help explain many sections of Project 2025. Some of the language in this post is taken directly from their transcripts. (You can read many of their comics here on tumblr @stopproject2025comic) Please vote against Project 2025. Our tattered democracy, healthcare, clean air & water, workers rights, reproductive rights, civil rights, intellectual freedom and more are at stake.

#project 2025 #us elections #2025 US election #US politics #please vote harris

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lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 5 months ago

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Yandere Fantasy Villain

Imagine you’ve been transported to a DnD-Fantasy-like world. Quests, adventurers, and mystical beasts are everything you could dream of. You’ve already established your little troupe; becoming an important cornerstone of the group. Whatever your class, you’re excelling at they really rely on which is why things go badly when you meet him—-the recurring villain of this world.

“Oh my–oh my Zoth.”

“What? Do I horrify the little hero!?”

“No, you’re–”

“Worse than you imagined?”

“No, you’re–”

“(Y/n) stop freezing up!”

“You’re the most beautiful creature I’ve ever met!”

The group is horrified as they plan a tactical retreat, finding it easier to thwart the Fantasy Villain’s attacks which are suddenly less frequent. The group just assumes you’ve been enchanted because since you’ve locked eyes with him you’ve been unable to stand on your feet. Wide-eyed and breathing heavy you just can’t stop the heat climbing over your face and ears as you replay the moment you met over and over.

“You realize he’s a part of the ugliest most horrible race known to all of Azarothan.”

“If that’s ugly then I’m dead!”

“M-maybe he did enchant them?”

Meanwhile, the Villain’s returned to home base, shedding his armor and dismissing his entourage. Sat on his throne he replays the words you’ve said to him…over and over….and over again. His ears are turning a deep blue and he can’t help the involuntary reaction of the volcano attached to his castle bubbling with excitement.

“They-they think I’m beautiful?!”

He’s reeling with an overflow of energy and unknown vigor when he recalls your awestruck face as you fell to your knees clutching your enchanted tool. He can’t stop the thought of you in that same position but in a different setting. Cursing his lacking imagination he concocts his usual magic to spy on the troupe with his crystal ball but this time he’s focused solely on you.

“Surely they’ll brag about the enchantment they left on me…..and maybe talk about their own infatuation again.”

It strokes a different kind of pride when he hears you deny being cursed. The feelings are mutual. He’s over the moon all four of them. You have to understand the Fantasy Villain has never been told something so flattering.

“From another world….figures. This world could never make such…a perfect soul.”

Since their upbringing, they’ve been met with nothing but scorn and hatred. Vowing to rule and change the world that did that to him. If others did express interest it was because he had power or was literally about to kill them. Your reaction, your unadulterated feelings for him, the tug at his soul is the only sign he needs before his objective changes.

“I wanted to rule the world so I could change the world for me. But now I’m going to change the world so I can rule with them.”

He means it. The troops are given new orders, the deadly nightmarish beasts are given new tasks, and he’s already concocting a million different plans to attain you. He watches the crystal ball relentlessly trying to hear and see as much as he can to learn more about you. He realizes very quickly that he really hates those adventurers of yours.

“C’mon (Y/n)! Just because you’re attracted to the enemy doesn’t mean he isn’t trying to destroy the world!”

“Yeah (Y/n), you’ve got to get your head in the game. We need you!”

“I–your right…sorry guys…I just don’t think I’ve ever seen someone who fits my preferences so perfectly.”

“You don’t even know him!”

“But one look in his galaxy-like eyes and it felt like I did.”

He really hates them. Listening to them talk you out of your feelings for him. Before you arrived they were minor pests. Simply a small roadblock that he would eventually crush to shatter the hopes of the people when they needed them most. Now they were just obstacles in the way of his goal–you.

“Sire those adventurers you told us to keep an eye on are on the move. Should I give the order to attack?”

“No…summon the siren I’d like to take a different approach.”

He gets incredibly crafty, despite only meeting you once he can tell you aren’t heartless like he. He’s certain should you find him to be responsible for the death of anyone you’ve met you’d reject his love. So he’ll make it his plan to slowly break your little troupe, such spunky and erratic individuals may be just the only tool he needs.

“My orders, My Ruler?”

“Join their group. Do what you like with whoever you wish.

“?”

“Bring discord how you see fit.”

“Yes, My Ruler!”

His plan is perfect and the group isn’t nearly suspicious enough to reject his double agent. Who’s presence triggers the cracks that this group had always had. When the group splits apart needing to cool off you’re left alone, a perfect chance for a moment with you.

“Hello, little hero.”

“Whoa, what are you doing here? My troupe’s not too far! A-a-a-nd I–I’m willing to fight this time!”

“That’s a shame because I came to speak to you.”

“Really! Ahem, I mean about what?”

“About those words, you said to me….I wonder did you know what they’ve ignited.”

Taking advantage of your easily lowered guard, he speaks the truth. Coming in close enough to feel the heat escaping from your armor, he’ll share the tale of his past. Which as he predicted makes you so sympathetic and just as willing to sing his praises as the moment you met.

“But you’re not ugly or horrid like they all say.”

“No?”

“I think you’re beyond handsome. One of the most ethereal beings I’ve ever met.”

“Do you truly think so?”

“I know so… I’m just sorry no one else has told you that.”

“I’m happy it was you.”

When you let him dive in for a kiss, naturally you accept it. Returning his vigor in kind if not with sympathy or just your attraction, you miss how he places a magical mark on your neck. Or how he casually enchants your armor to protect you better. Or how he influences the flora and fauna of the forest to curve in the direction you came from essentially blocking the path back to your camp. When he reluctantly releases you he further promises he’s never letting you leave his grasp. Promising to one day have you on the throne beside him.

“I must return and so must you. Your friends will worry.”

“Oh…you’re right.”

“Don’t sound so sad, we’ll meet again.”

“Not just in my dreams.”

“Not just in your dreams.”

He leaves not only giddy with love but with a new plan in mind. He prepared to be faced with a struggle, to have to fight for your affection as the enemy you’d be fighting. But he wasn’t prepared for your heart to be swayed so easily. Licking your remnants on his lips, he knows that you can be deceived, and conveniently so can the rest of the world.

Fantasy Villain devises that if the history of his race’s banishment and exile were portrayed in a certain light. You could defect to his side without guilt and if some of the more stubborn adventurers were to also agree that’d make things so much easier. Pretending to be persuaded to sign some peace treaty after being gifted enough land to rule over with you beside him didn’t sound too bad.

Even if that didn’t work the Fantasy Villain has decided you will rule beside him whether he has to trick, drug, or force you to be his. Though he adores the honest love in your eyes when he looks at you and he’s going to do whatever he needs to have it.

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shiny-jr · 8 months ago

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Hi! I noticed that your requests were open and I love the way you write Malleus so I was hoping you would do yandere malleus x reader. where the reader knows twisted wonderland is a game (but not imposter au pls) and after they got isekia'd are trying to stop the overblots from happening and malleus is just terrified for them. Idk just an idea I've had for awhile but never found a fanfic like lol. Obviously it's totally fine if you don't want to do it or if I accidentally broke a rule. Anyway remember to drink some water and take a break if needed! Have a amazing rest of your day/night!!

Warning: Yandere (not really, not at all). Gender-neutral reader.

Characters: Malleus Draconia.

Summary: MC sees affection meters and it's not good.

Note: These are mainly thoughts and random words my mind spewed out.

How did one claim victory at a game? Well, it entirely depended on the game, the mechanics and the options. It should've been impossible to lose a mobile game that was primarily composed of the gacha mechanism and visual novels.

When you suddenly found yourself in the series of twisted villains in a prestigious school of magic, you found that it was much more complex than it appeared on screen. Especially when only you could see these small bars occasionally floating above people's heads. Bars which you recognized as affection meters, nearly all of them stagnant at a dull gray 0% when you first arrived. This was the hurdle blocking your way to an easy victory. Because how else were you to escape the game, other than complete it?

Situations became messier, when you didn't have a dialogue options between two mere choices. Add making good impressions and keeping a character's favor, to the list of quests alongside avoiding death by inky overblotted characters. By some miracle, you had increased the affection of the characters you met and interacted with to a healthy 5% or 10%, sometimes more. At any cost you wished to avoid getting in the negatives, because you did not want to find out what would happen then.

Sometimes, the numbers would drop dangerously close to zero, mainly when an overblot was occuring. Never had you realized how the visual novel failed spectacularly at portraying the utter horror of the overblotted in all their wicked glory. The black inky darkness leaking from them like tears or blood with those crazed unhinged looks in their eyes–– was the stuff of pure nightmares.

And yet the one whose overblot you had been dreading the most, the dorm leader of Diasomnia, was surprisingly docile as you dealt with others. However, you knew even when conversing with him, that you would one day witness him overblot and look like some ethereal but deadly fallen angel. So mentally you prepared yourself, while taking on the task of keeping up appearances.

Malleus' affection meter, was a good 20% and a friendly pink shade, quite the accomplishment you were proud of, considering the majority of the cast wasn't even at 15%. The Draconia heir was certainly someone you never wanted to see reach below zero, so you did your absolute best to appeal to him, even if he was quite intimidating at first with the way he stoically watched you complain about the least of your worries, homework and classes.

By the time you spoke to him about your troubles with the Ramshackle dorm and Azul, during what you knew was the Octavinelle arc, the prince's affection had sprouted to a 22%. When you went into more detail of the potential loss you could face, it went to 23%.

The next time you saw him, you were weary and antsy since witnessing Azul's break-down. If the blot of his tears had the magic to gather, it would've been enough to drown, you were sure of it. Even by that maniac look in his eyes, you're sure he would've purposely drowned you if he got close enough.

Throughout that charlatan's chapter, his affection meter had slowly been rising, dropping during the overblot like the tides only to rise once again by the end to a good 45%. This was good!

But no matter how much you may have pondered, strategized, or try to predict each next action, you could've never guessed that the next time you saw Malleus after Azul's overblot, his expression taut with concern, his affection meter had made a jump to 55% and turned red. This entire time you had been avoiding the negatives, but you never once worried of the dangers and implications a red affection meter above 50% would mean for you. Or heaven forbid, anything close to 100%.

#twisted wonderland #twst #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twst #malleus draconia #twst malleus #yandere malleus draconia

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hanasnx · 1 year ago

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fell in love without you

MINORS DNI 18+ NOTES: everyone’s nineteen. WARNINGS: f!reader | you have a favorite twin | sexual content with said fave twin | dubcon kiss

FRED WEASLEY stands before you alongside his brother George. A seemingly world famous smug air about them, having charmed themselves by their own wit. Arms crossed, towering tall above the random passersby as they absentmindedly drone to their next class. Your hesitation spurs the twins on, exchanging a knowing and triumphant glance that says all as you tilt your head at them.

“Are you serious?”

One twin feigns offense. “Deadly serious.”

The other mimics him. “Gravely.”

“S’only fair, innit?”

“Game of guess the twin, guess wrong and you’ve got to give a kiss.” he repeats the game rules.

“For hurtin’ our feelin’s.” the other agrees.

You narrow your eyes with a huff through your nose. “You haven’t got any feelings. Now let me pass.” you demand, and attempt to cut through them but they’re connected at the shoulders to block your way from your corridor.

“Now that’s what you win if you guess right!” they say together. Did they rehearse this? You frown at them as you recoil, throwing your arm out to your side until your book pats the outside of your thigh.

“What? You scared? We both know you’ve got a little thing for me.” One shrugs.

“And me.” the other adds.

“We’re only helping you along.” they speak at the same time, in annoying twin-synchrony.

You give in. “Do you really think I can’t tell you apart?” Lazily, you point to the boy on the left. “Fred.” It transfers over to the boy on the right. “George.” They exchange another look amongst themselves, and adopt a crestfallen expression as their heads bow, stepping apart so you can enter. “See?” you taunt, passing them by. “Was that so hard? I’ll see you boys later—“

“Not so fast there, birdie.” You halt in your tracks at the sound of him speak. “I’m George.” You sigh hard and hang your head.

“I’m Fred. C’mon then, give us a kiss.” They’d faked you out, or they’re lying. Either way, you concede in order to satiate their egos, drawing back to the place where they wait for you. It’s only a kiss on the cheek anyway, and besides it wouldn’t reveal your true feelings towards your favored twin. You’re just friends, and that’s how it should stay. “Tha’s a good girl. Look at her comin’ back, George. She wants this just as much as we do.”

“A foolproof plan there, Fred, well done.”

“It’s practically your only pick-up line, boys. You could do far better.” you tease, and drop your satchel to the ground where it flops flat hopelessly, and toss your book to land onto the leather. “C’mon then, lean down.” They’re both much taller than you, sort of imposing if they weren’t so approachable when they wanted to be. George goes first, stooping to offer his cheek to you. Sweetly, you hook your arm around his neck for stability when you raise yourself to your toes, planting a chaste peck onto his cheek. His skin warms your nose, and he recedes as you do. When you meet Fred’s gaze, he hasn’t taken his eyes off you, and you feel yourself heat up in anticipation. He does as George did, stooping but it’s a little gentler, dragging it out. There’s a mischievous curl to his lips and you sense he plots something. So you idle while you figure him out, until he interrupts you.

“Oi, wha’s wrong with you? Go on, pay up.” and you snap out of it, doing as you did with George. Your arm hooks loose around his neck, hand splayed on the cuff of his shoulder. While you raise yourself to meet his cheek, the tips of your toes bearing your weight, and things seem to move in slow motion. An arm straps around your waist, arching you into him as he turns at the last second, drawing you into a kiss. A real one. You emit a noise of surprise as he deepens it, seizing the opportunity to slip his tongue between your lips during your squeak. Out of shock, you take a fair bit of time to register, eyes flying open as you pat hard against his chest. You can’t push him off, but he pulls back after he’s made his point.

Hastily, you adjust your uniform with a gaping mouth. “Fred!” you scold while they snicker, you took notice of how George averted his eyes beforehand, so he’d known of Fred’s trick. Perhaps Fred put him up to it. Some innocent game that allows Fred an in to make a proper move on you. Or some sort of malicious advantage over your feelings. Out of embarrassment or fury, your hands pat hard on each of them, banging your fists against whatever is within reach as their laughs feather out when they flinch and try to catch your hands. When they escape, and you realize you’re desperately tardy, you have to let them go, calling out your vow of revenge after them.

“Where’s that vow of revenge now, ey?” breathless words spoken into your ear as Fred ruts into you. Hidden under the hot covers of your bed, he keeps you close with strong arms encasing you, pressing you to him as you lay on your sides. You claw the sheets for purchase, clutching onto the fabric to keep yourself grounded as he moves inside you. Careful, gentle, deliberate. Everyone’s sleeping. If anyone found out a boy snuck into your girls’ dormitory you’d be toast. His breath sends tingles up your spine, squeezing your eyes shut in the dark as you focus on where your bodies conjoin. Sticky and wet, Fred sheathes fully with a buck of his hips, and involuntarily you whimper. A large hand cups your mouth to silence you. “Keep quiet,” he whispers and you nod against him. “Didn’t take you for a bad girl, birdie, you’re a proper troublemaker.” he tells you, barely audible, his lips moving against your ear as his hips circle, welcomed by your sex, he can’t help but soak a second. “You wanna get caught, don’t you?”

You can’t answer, shaking your head against his hand and you feel his teeth nip at your earlobe. “Is that right?” he goads, unconvinced. He shifts, gradually picking up a steady pace. “Should we give ‘em a real show then?”

#2k #indy: drabbles #ch: fred #fred weasley drabble #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x you #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley smut #fred weasley x y/n #weasley twins imagines #fred weasley x fem!reader #fred weasley headcanons #golden trio x reader #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley fic #fred weasley fluff

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summerpearlgirl · 1 month ago

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Polin Fic Recs - Cute Comfort Rereads

Sunshine, sugar sweet, cuteness captured in words. My beloveds.

1. Dance Card by Katie_500, Stillpink

Mature. Regency. Complete. 36,712 words. I believe this was written with the specific intent of exploring a world in which S1 Penelope is a guest in Bridgerton House for the London marriage mart season while the rest of the Featheringtons are occupied in another town. Pen feels loved, supported and listened to by the Bridgertons. Lots of unchaperoned time with Colin is the cherry on top. Polin are sweet, innocent and no touchy, but that doesn't mean they aren't thinking thoughts. Puppy love Colin is oblivious and insecure, but it is a HEA.

2. where art thou? why not uponeth me? by maxmayfield

Mature. Modern setting. Complete. 5,001 words. Under 1 hour read. Colin meets Penelope during their first creative writing class at university. They are friends for months before dating. Aware Colin Bridgerton. Sabrina Carpenter's song Bed Chem was on a loop in my head while reading this.

3. My Fairy Lady by rottentiger

Teen and up (rating may change). Regency. Work in progress. +10,000 words. Penelope is a tiny fairy and Colin accidentally traps her in his bag while in a forest in Ireland. When he returns to London he discovers her. Unable to immediately return her to her homeland, Colin promises to care for her until the end of the season. Penelope is a ray of sunshine. They are both so tender and kind to each other it feels like I am being sprinkled with fairy dust.

4. Dancing Around the Truth by WeepingFromACedarTree

Explicit. Regency. Complete. 60,167 words. Set post-S2. Penelope's family leave town and Pen is alone at Featherington House. Pen falls ill with a potentially deadly fever. Colin throws the propriety rule book out the window and stays by Pen's side caring for her.

5. U Up? by DollyPop, Stillpink

Mature. Regency. Complete. 36,709 words. Set post-S1. Sexting Regency style with racy letters exchanged between Colin and Pen. I was giggling and kicking my feet the entire time.

#bridgerton #polin #polin fic #polin fanfiction

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thejakeformerlyknownasprince · 1 month ago

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What if all the yeerks suddenly died? AU

Part 3.5; Part 1, Part 2, and Part 3 are here. All you need to know from earlier parts is that all the yeerks disappeared at once after the events of #19, and that the Animorphs and ex-controllers have been trying to resume a normal life ever since.

• Hedrick Chapman wanted to be an ecologist when he grew up. Or a veterinarian. Barring that, he’d have settled for being rich. At no point did he ever want to be a vice principal of a criminally underfunded public high school. That had been a yeerk decision, not his. Certainly not his. And yet, here he is.

• Then again, Chapman reflects as he watches Andy Mitchell vomit into the potted plant on his desk, this job has recently involved far more working with wild animals than he initially anticipated.

“It was horrible,” Andy sobs. “Her f-face, it… it split open. I could see bones under the—” He cuts off, retching more.

Probably in shock, Chapman thinks. A perfectly understandable reaction to having seen someone morph for the first time. “What did she turn into?”

“What?” Andy lifts his head. Milk-pale, except for those red-rimmed eyes. Definitely in shock. “What do you mean?”

“Rachel.�� Chapman didn’t get a name, but that description could only apply to so many students. “What did she morph?”

“I don’t know,” Andy wails. “Her face got all baggy and horrible, like the skin was coming off, and it…” He makes a pulling motion, away from his own mouth.

“So she turned into an elephant.” Chapman notes that down. “Then what?”

“You don’t understand,” Andy says. “She… she… her body was melting!”

Chapman sets down the pen, looking him in the eye. “I believe you. You saw her turn into an elephant. Did she try to attack you, once she was done?”

“I don’t know! I ran for it.”

“Smart choice.” Chapman massages his left temple, which is where his Rachel-shaped headache seems to have taken up full-time residence in Iniss 226’s absence. “I figured as much, since we’re not having this conversation in the hospital.”

“It was horrible,” Andy says again.

“And what did you say to Tobias Fangor that precipitated this incident?”

Andy blinks. His color looks a little better, anyway. “How did you know that?”

Chapman does not roll his eyes. Because he’s an adult, and in control of his own body. “I just so happen to be fluent in English, Mr. Mitchell. Which is, by enormous coincidence, the language used to write your disciplinary file. I’m also capable of basic pattern recognition.”

“What are you going to do to her?” Andy asks. “Rachel. What happens to her?”

An excellent question. Bringing a deadly weapon to school results in a ten-day suspension. But if Chapman applies that statute in this case, then he’d be forced to suspend all five Animorphs for the rest of eternity. Threatening a classmate can result in expulsion, though it sounds like no actual threats were issued. There isn’t a rule on the books for showing a classmate something so disturbing his brain tries to turn itself inside-out from sheer horror, although in light of recent developments there really should be.

“Not your concern,” Chapman says. “Thank you for telling me. Back to class.”

Andy takes several more minutes to collect himself before he goes. Chapman uses that time to catch up on paperwork, though he does offer the young man a tissue. And a breath mint.

• Andy is barely out Chapman’s door when it swings open again and Tom Berenson strides in. “You have to tell my parents it’s not Jake’s fault,” he announces.

I am not your therapist, Chapman would dearly like to say. I am not your best friend. I am not, regardless of Iniss 226’s relationship with Temrash 114, your fucking subordinate. I do not ‘have to’ do anything.

Not being snippy with vulnerable teenagers is probably one of those things they’d cover M.Ed. programs, if Chapman had ever actually been to school for this job. “Why don’t you take a deep breath and explain from the beginning.” There. That sounds like something a vice principal would say.

“Jake.” Tom sits down. “My parents keep forcing him to go to school. They think he’s, like, being a moody teenager. Or faking it.”

Chapman may not be a therapist, or even a college graduate, but he does recognize that Jake’s entitled to as many sick days as he feels like taking, for the rest of eternity. However, “That’s between your parents and your brother.”

“You can’t do anything?” Tom asks. “You have the ability to give kids permanent excuses for made-up medical conditions— Iniss did it all the time—”

“I am not,” Chapman says severely, “Iniss 226.”

Tom stiffens. “I just meant…”

“I recognize it is not your fault you have entirely too much information about the administration of this school.” Chapman tries to soften his tone. “But if you can do without using the Krav Maga or ability to home-assemble a working handgun that you also didn’t choose to receive, you can do without that.”

“But— Jake. They don’t get it.”

“I will speak with your parents. I’ll express these concerns to them,” Chapman says. “In the meantime, might I suggest you focus on your own grades? Thanks to Iniss, you’ve missed far too much school already. If you want to have any hope of graduating on time, you need to catch up.”

“Why?”

He says it so simply. It’s a question Chapman’s been asked before: Why bother? Of all the kids who’ve asked him, only Marco Santiago has been more entitled to ask. Why, indeed, bother with school? Why care about Civics and Algebra when the world itself has already ended around you?

A real vice principal would make a speech about learning being its own reward, or the importance of insuring one’s future. “Because,” Chapman says, “when I speak to Coach Lu about letting you back on the basketball team, he’ll point out that student athletes need a minimum two-point-oh GPA.”

Tom’s whole face lights up. Suddenly looking years younger. Looking like a kid, for the first time in months. “You’d do that for me?”

That M.Ed. program no doubt would have advised against bribes. “No skin off my butt,” Chapman says. “Now go do your homework. And let the adults worry about your brother.”

“Yes sir!” And he’s off like a shot. Possibly even, miracle of miracles, off to work on that backlog of English essays.

• The first time Jake called a meeting in Cassie’s barn, even though they don’t really have a reason to meet anymore, it was to discuss what they can do to help the hork-bajir—taxxon alliance. The second time, it was to make a plan to help Tobias get caught up in school. The third time, he doesn’t even make an excuse.

Rachel complains about the press hounding them for a statement. Marco complains about his parents making out on the couch while he’s in the house. Tobias complains about Ms. Paloma’s workload, and about the hork-bajir constitution negotiations. Jake complains about his dad’s horrifying questions about how morphing affects puberty. Ax complains about Alloran’s frequent, extremely snobby, emails. Cassie complains about her parents constantly asking her to morph their patients to figure out what’s wrong with them.

It’s silly. It’s fun. It’s playing at being teenagers with teenage problems.

“This time next week,” Jake announces, at the end. “And if there are any major developments in the meantime, keep the rest of us posted.”

• “Tobias Fangor’s aunt called again,” Principal Walsh says, when Chapman gets to the office on a Tuesday morning. “Don’t you think we should at least speak to her, see what she wants?”

“No,” Chapman says. “I don’t.”

“His uncle. This…” She glances at the paperwork. “Axel Mili-Esgarrouth. Didn’t show up for last parent-teacher conference.”

Small mercies. Chapman doesn’t explain Tobias’s living situation. Doesn’t reveal that he owes the kid’s parents the kind of debt that cannot be repaid in an entire lifetime of favors. Doesn’t deign to find out if Maggie Walsh knows what an andalite is.

“Tobias Fangor,” he says, “is part of the one-tenth of one percent of students who are, somehow, attending this high school because they want to be here. If you give him reason to transfer out, I will resign.”

• There are reasons that Chapman stays in this job, despite being stashed here against his will. Not the pay. Not the sullen ingratitude from the teens he helps. Certainly not the parents. It’s because he’s needed here, now more than ever.

• He stays for the times Loren’s kid comes skittering into his office, wild-eyed and muttering, “Sorry, I just, sorry, I’ll be out of your hair soon, I promise…” Chapman knows to open the window, when that happens, knows to shove a chair already well-deformed with talon marks out from behind his desk.

• He stays for the kids who on paper had straight As, perfect attendance, promising gigs at The Sharing — and overnight became failing wrecks with insomnia and dozens of unexplained absences. He can explain to their teachers, to their parents, in a way that someone who hasn’t been there will never be able to understand.

• He stays for the way Eva Santiago clasps his hand and says, “You will look out for him.” Half-supplication, half-command.

• He even, despite himself, stays for Tom. Who showed up at school the day after Aegas 1909 died, trying to pretend like nothing had happened. Who is a truly godawful actor — he took one look at Chapman, went dead-white, and ran for it. Who was backing away even as Chapman cornered him in the parking lot. “Wait!” Chapman had said. “Wait! Iniss is dead too.” And Tom had burst into tears.

• No one else would understand them. No one else would know why nearly every one of the seventy-three ex-hosts in this school has been sent to his office for not paying attention, for sleeping in class, for allegedly being stoned during school hours. No one else would overlook the absolute illegal mess of Tobias’s paperwork, or give Rachel a fortieth second chance after she has yet another hair-trigger reaction to being bumped in the hall.

• But there’s one reason above all others that he stays in this job.

“You don’t mind?” Melissa says, every single time he offers her a ride to school. As if he’s doing her a favor, letting her take up space in the car he’s already driving that way. As if it’s a chore to get to spend time with his daughter and hear about her day.

“You sure you don’t mind?” he always answers, smiling, and she always runs to get her bag.

It takes so little — a smile, a nod, an offer to feed the damn cat, sometimes even just a glance her way — to get her to light up with gratitude. It breaks his fucking heart to know the reason why.

He drives her every day. He helps her with homework every night, and cooks her dinner afterward. He drops more than he can afford on leg-warmers and Lisa Frank and Limited Too. He’s every parenting cliché: on a trial separation from Alison, spoiling their kid rotten because of the guilt.

Anyway, time with Melissa is worth a hell of a lot more than mere money. And it’s almost enough to make up for dealing with parents. Almost.

• “But Cassie’s a good kid,” Michelle Logan says. “She’s always been responsible, and she’s always taken care of herself. There has to be some kind of mistake.”

Chapman looks at the good kid sitting between her parents. Thinks of watching her rip a hork-bajir’s throat out, taking an innocent life along with the guilty one. Trusts that she had no choice in the matter, because if it was him she’d killed instead then he would have understood.

“I recognize that Cassie has had an overall clean record thus far,” Chapman says. “However, the Rain Forest Café is filing charges against the school for the impersonation and theft of several live animals, and I don’t have other suspects.”

“Cassie would never,” Michelle said. “She’s a good kid. She just fell in with the wrong crowd, that’s all.”

“Of that,” Chapman says dryly, “I have no doubt.”

Cassie lifts her head then to look straight at him. “I’m sorry,” she says, not sounding it. “I was trying to help the parrots.”

I. Yes, she’s a good kid. “It’s admirable,” Chapman tells her, “that you’re covering for your friends.” Probably also on the list of things a real vice principal wouldn’t say. “But there is no way that you could have acted alone.”

“Can you prove that?” Cassie asks.

“Can you even prove it was her?” Michelle says. “What about Marco, or Rachel? They morph. Isn’t Tobias a bird quite often? Who says it wasn’t him?”

Cassie and Chapman make eye contact. Marco is one incident away from being expelled. Rachel is about negative eight incidents away, and Chapman can only do so much to protect her. Tobias isn’t supposed to be at this school at all, which the board will surely notice if he comes to their attention. Cassie confessed, because Cassie can take the heat. And Chapman’s letting her take that fall.

“It’s okay,” Cassie tells the adults. “It’s only a week of detention.”

Because that was the lowest sentence he could propose, while still avoiding a legal proceeding. She really is a good kid.

• “Where you going?” Jake asks, not looking up from his Spanish homework, when Tom unlocks the front door at 8:00 PM on a Sunday.

“Sharing meeting,” Tom says casually. “Wanna come?”

Jake sets down his pen. He looks at his brother.

Tom stares back, smirking.

“Where are you actually going?” Jake says.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” And with that, Tom walks out the door.

Despite himself, Jake follows.

• It’s an under-21 nightclub that Jake vaguely recognizes as being a front for The Sharing, but the crowd spilling onto the lawn around it is truly all ages. There’s a giggling pair of 10-year-olds standing too close to the beer keg for his comfort, a middle-aged guy handing out glow sticks, and a woman with gray hair and a hand-knit sweater smoking a joint on the curb.

“Tommy-boy!” That’s the guy standing next to the door, an ex-controller Jake thinks is named Bill. He throws out his arms and, before Jake can react, has grabbed Tom, spun him around, dipped him, and kissed him on the mouth.

“Hands off, asshole,” Tom says, laughing as he pulls loose. “You are so fucking drunk.”

“Sssshhhhhh,” Bill says, not disconfirming the accusation. He points to the Employees Only printed on the door. “Just meat-puppets tonight. Ditch the tagalong.”

“Oh, come on.” Tom gestures at Jake. “The kid was a controller for a hot second last November.”

Bill squints at Jake. “Wait, really?”

Jake shrugs. He doesn’t want to talk about it. “Yeah.”

“Well all right, then.” Bill ruffles Jake’s hair, Tom slaps Bill on the ass, and they shoulder their way inside.

• The club is jammed full of bodies, most of them sweaty and partway naked. Jake retreats until his back is against the nearest wall, looking over the mess of dancing humans. Tom has split off, chest-bumping with some other guy Jake doesn’t know and stealing a drag off his cigarette. None of them are acting remotely like controllers, which is reassuring, and now he’s wondering if it’d be rude to leave without Tom about 10 seconds after having arrived.

No one would notice if he turned into a bug, he decides after about an hour of this. Seriously. This crowd would not notice, and it’s not like they’d care if they did. Tom can find his own way home.

A small form sidles up next to him. “Hi, Jake.”

“Melissa!” he says too loudly, glad to see a familiar face. “Hi.”

“You want some drink?” She holds up a clear plastic cup, three-quarters full of liquid. “There’s plenty more over…” She points to the punchbowl behind her.

“Drink?” Jake asks.

Melissa shrugs. “From the empty bottles, it’s mostly beer and tequila, with a little bit of Bloody Mary mix. Which is probably why it…” She grimaces down at her cup. “Looks, smells, and tastes like urine.”

“Um.” Jake peers at her cup; her assessment isn’t wrong. “I think I’ll pass, thanks.”

“Cool. There’s also a guy around here with E, if that’s more your speed.”

“Gee.” Jake looks back over the crowd, which includes several couples openly pawing at each other, a group of four with hands inside each other’s clothes, and Tom apparently attempting to eat some woman’s tongue before she can eat his. “There’s ecstasy here? I never would’ve guessed.”

“People are just glad the war’s over,” Melissa says. “And your brother’s a really good kisser.”

It’s official: this is worse than the gathering of alien slugs plotting Earth’s destruction that Jake expected to find. It’s not even a proper orgy, just a whole crapton of giddy ex-hosts hugging each other and then getting too enthusiastic about the hugs.

“Look,” Jake says. “This has been nice, but I have school tomorrow, so…”

• Which is when the commotion breaks out near the door.

“Gatecrasher!” That’s Bill, brandishing a mason jar as he continues to yell. “We have a gatecrasher!”

Several people crowd around him to get a better look, someone holding up a glow stick to reveal that, sure enough, the jar in his hands contains a single wolf spider. Among this crowd, animals that act strange or aren’t native to California don’t go without notice.

«I’m innocent! And even if I’m not you can’t prove anything,» the spider says. «Maybe I just wandered by accidentally, and this is all a big misunderstanding.»

“This thing’s for full members only,” Tom says, straight-faced. “There’s a sign on the door, can’t miss it.”

«Maybe I want to join the Sharing?» the spider suggests.

This gets him several unamused looks. “Toss him out,” Li says. “And let’s get back to the keg stands.”

“Nah, let him stay!” That’s Koko, piping up from the back. “God knows every person in this bar owes the Animorphs a drink.”

Looking between them, Bill turns back to the jar. Finally he lifts it up to eye level, starting at the spider’s middle two eyes. “Repeat after me,” Bill intones.

«Uh-huh.»

“What your mom doesn’t know…”

«What my mom doesn’t know…»

“Will not hurt her.”

«Dude, I wouldn’t narc on you! What do you take me for?»

“A chip off the old block,” Tom mutters.

“Repeat it,” Bill says severely.

«What my mom doesn’t know, won’t hurt her.»

“Great!” Bill unscrews the lid of the jar, dumping it out on the ground. “Welcome to the Sharing.”

“If it makes you feel better,” Melissa says to a slowly-demorphing Marco, “I got the same speech.”

“It really does.” He presses a hand over his heart. “Now, someone mentioned buying me a drink?”

• A small nightclub on the outskirts of the city burns to the ground, shortly after having every piece of its furniture and glassware smashed in a pile in the middle of the floor. The local police force, over 30% of whom were controllers three months ago, elects to ignore this development.

• Chapman loathes paperwork to the absolute depths of his soul. Nothing, absolutely nothing, is worse than filing paperwork to get permission to file paperwork, and yet here he is. The state of California cannot possibly need this many copies of Ashley Shawn’s transcript. This has to be a torment invented by an evil god to punish him for everything he did aboard the Jahar. There is no other explanation.

So when Ms. Hanna comes skidding into his office and announces “Science wing! There’s a brawl!” his first thought is, oh thank god.

His second thought is to wonder why she came to get him, skipping the security officer and Principal Walsh, but they’re already running by the time that occurs to him.

When they get there the press of screaming-chanting bodies fills the hall from end to end, but kids still find room to crowd out of the way when they see Chapman coming. The circle of spectators breaks long enough to reveal the melee at the center, and—

Oh hell. Chapman can tell exactly why Ms. Hanna got him first.

Fiona Aherne has one hand fisted in the collar of Tom Berenson’s shirt, and is punching him repeatedly in the face. Joe Lassen catches her around the middle and rips her off Tom, tossing her to the floor, only to be caught in a side-tackle by Li Saren. Beyond them, Hailey Ng and Bill Renaldi are hanging onto Asher Reed, until Asher suddenly rolls forward and body-slams Bill to the floor.

Chapman winces — so much for not using that Krav Maga. He's knocked aside as Jake shoves past him and dives in to the fray.

Principal Walsh is across the battlefield, staring in bafflement. Shouting ineffectually for everyone to stop. She doesn’t know, of course, what Tom and Joe and Asher all have in common. What Bill and Li and Fiona and Hailey do.

Li has Tom by the throat from behind, which is why Jake throws himself onto Li with the gracelessness typical of a high-schooler. Li head-butts Jake, only to have Jake, snarling, bite him in the face.

“Stop!” Chapman bellows. “ALL OF YOU! STOP!”

Jake drops off Li. Hailey drops Asher. Slowly the others lower their fists, glaring.

Good to know everyone’s fear of Iniss 226 is still good for something.

“Everyone in the Biology classroom,” Chapman barks, pointing at the door. “Bill’s lot near the windows, Tom and the others by the door. Move it!”

Principal Walsh stares at Chapman in confusion, which deepens when everyone obeys him without question. He beckons first to Ms. Hanna, then to Mr. Tidwell, pointing them into the room as well. They also take their places without question, Mr. Tidwell supervising the voluntary half of the room as Ms. Hanna covers the involuntaries.

Pausing in the doorway, Chapman turns at last to face Maggie Walsh. His boss. Who has the ability to fire him, if she misunderstands the situation. “It’s about yeerks,” he settles for telling her.

Her look of bafflement doesn’t fade. “How?”

Chapman opens his mouth. Hunts for words.

“Jake had nothing to do with this.”

Chapman doesn’t have to turn his head to know who spoke from the involuntary side of the room. What a surprise, a Berenson kid running his mouth.

“Thank you for your input, Thomas.” He spins around. “That isn’t your call.”

Tom crosses his arms. Between the fingernail marks down his cheek and the broken knuckles of his right hand, he looks the very picture of delinquency.

“He’s right,” Joe says, from the voluntary side of the room. “It’s nothing to do with Jake.” In Chapman’s peripheral vision, Maggie Walsh blinks several times. He’ll explain later. Or try to.

“Fine,” Chapman says. “Jake, get back to class.”

Jake lifts his chin, blood striping the lower half of his face. “I chose to get involved,” he says. “I’ll take my punishment.”

“Oh yeah?” Tom says. “Then what was the fight about?”

Jake looks from one side of the room to the other. Both sides have ninth graders, twelfth graders, jocks and nerds, white and Black and brown kids. Jake’s probably smart enough to identify several ex-controllers, and to guess at the rest, but unable to tell how or why they sorted themselves like they did. Nonetheless, after a second he opens his mouth.

“That’s what I thought,” Chapman cuts him off. “Anyway, if I suspend you then Marco and Rachel will have burned down the school within a week. Fix your nose, then back to class.”

Knowing when he’s beat, Jake leaves. Chapman makes a note he’ll also have to explain to Maggie how morphing works, and that he didn’t just order a 14-year-old to hand-set a broken nose.

“The involuntaries started it,” Bill announces, the moment Jake is gone.

“Yeah,” Tom snaps, “and the voluntaries are the ones who—”

“Who were lied to, instead of being coerced?” Mr. Tidwell suggests.

Tom shuts his mouth.

“Asher called me a traitor.” Li points a finger across the room.

“Six months ago Li told me,” Asher says quietly, “that I should really join the Sharing.”

“And so,” Chapman drawls, “you had no choice but to punch each other in the face. Is that correct?”

Tom mutters something under his breath that Chapman chooses not to catch. He can’t threaten them, not this crowd. Most of them have survived worse hells than the Geneva Convention ever dreamed of. Detention means nothing.

Fine. Persuasion it’ll have to be. Fuck his life. Chapman raises his voice to address the involuntaries. “They—” He points to the voluntary side of the room. “Are not the enemy. The yeerks are the enemy, and the yeerks are dead. Don’t start doing their work for them, you hear me?”

There’s a long silence. Asher scuffs the toe of his shoe on the floor.

“Yeah,” Tom says at last. “We hear you.”

“Everyone get checked at the nurse’s office,” Chapman tells the room at large. “You’re all suspended for the rest of the week.”

Maggie Walsh takes a seat next to Chapman, even as the kids all file out. Yeah. He owes her an explanation. Taking a deep breath, he tries to sum up what just happened. Hopefully in a thousand words or less.

Don Tidwell, coward, takes that opportunity to slip out the door.

• “Does anyone have anything to report?” Jake looks around Cassie’s barn. It’s still odd to see Ax and Tobias sitting out of morph and in the open. There was a brief collective panic when Cassie’s mom poked her head in earlier to ask if they want any lemonade or feeder mice.

“I have,” Marco says grandly, “a date… with Destiny!”

«Oh, you mean Destiny Trembull in tenth grade?» Tobias immediately undercuts this, because of course. «She seems nice.»

“And we don’t even have to spend the next three days following her around,” Rachel comments, which gets Marco to lob a horse comb at her head.

«I have accessed one-hundred twenty-three additional channels on my television,» Ax adds.

Cassie and Jake exchange a glance. “How’s it going, getting a ride home?” Cassie asks. “Any word on that?”

Ax shrugs — he isn’t even going to fit in on the andalite homeworld anymore when he does finally get there — and looks away. «I’ve been told that there are more important priorities concerning the Navy.»

«Their gratitude,» Tobias drawls, «is overwhelming.»

• Chapman explains to Jake’s parents that Jake needs a therapist, and also permission to miss school if he needs to. Chapman explains the Yeerk Empire and how exactly they recruit humans to Li Saren’s parents for the third, then the fourth, then the fifth time, until they are in tears and begging their son’s forgiveness for doubting him. Chapman explains to the district that he has no idea how the school ended up with a staircase leading from a supply closet to the alien sinkhole, but that he wants it sealed up posthaste. Chapman explains himself to Naomi Berenson, and then he does his best to explain Rachel as well.

• "No," Chapman tells the officious-looking little man sitting across his desk. "I don't know of anyone like that. I'm sorry, I wish I could be more help."

The man — he's probably a real detective, he has a badge — leans across the desk to push the photo array a little closer to Chapman. "You're sure? None of these individuals is a..." He glances at his notes. "Voluntary controller."

Chapman looks at the array, which includes images of nearly 100 students. Some of whom weren't controllers at all — that's Tobias Fangor in the upper left corner. Some of whom were lied to by the Sharing, and then lied to by the Yeerk Empire. Some of whom, like Bill Renaldi and his absolutely debilitating major depression, felt they had no choice but to give up their bodies. "Sorry," Chapman says. "None of these individuals appear to be voluntary controllers to the best of my knowledge."

The detective stares at Chapman, waiting for more information. Chapman stares back, waiting for the detective to get bored. He can do this all day, literal hours of silence if that's what it takes. He doubts any mere civilian can say the same.

Sure enough, the detective breaks first. "You see," he says, "we know for a fact that some of these individuals did, in fact, collude with the Yeerk Empire. And we have CCTV footage indicating that you might have been one of those colluders yourself. So anything you can do to help us out..."

Chapman lets the silence go for another minute, long enough for the detective to shift in place. "You're mistaken," he says at last. "About what it means to be a voluntary controller. Or an involuntary one, for that matter. The distinction you're seeking does not exist."

"I'm sorry." The guy has his notepad out now, pen moving. "You're saying... there's functionally no difference between the voluntary hosts and the involuntary ones?"

"Yes," Chapman says, unaware of the hell he's about to unleash. "That's exactly what I'm saying."

• “Ms. Paloma’s being a butt,” Melissa says, spinning her chair with a toe on the floor. “I told her that I have a French test the same day as the Bio one, but she just said that means I have to learn to manage my time.”

She just walked into his office. Without knocking. Without asking if he’s busy, if he minds, if he’s sure. Without apologizing for her existence. She walked in, she sat down uninvited, and now here she is complaining to him like any normal teenager.

“That sounds stressful.” Chapman is choosing his words with infinite care. He’s six years old again, holding a butterfly cupped in his palms and knowing that even a millimeter’s clumsiness will crush this precious living jewel. Thinking this. This is what I want. “I’m sorry to hear that,” he says.

She came in unprompted. She just walked right in.

“I hate French.” Melissa spins the chair again. “It’s all those lists of vocab words, and I can’t even say half of them correctly…”

“Do you want me to help you study?” Chapman asks.

Her head pops up with the force of her surprised, pleased smile. “You’d do that?”

That’s it, then. He’s never leaving this job. Paperwork and all.

#animorphs #animorphs au #long post #hedrick chapman #melissa chapman #violence #implied past child abuse #bullying #aus #imperfect consent #failure to obtain consent before kissing? doing things under the influence of substances that should really be done sober?#sol cares too much about the meatsuits #i am SO normal about the yeerk hosts

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decagondice · 14 days ago

Text

༓ Foul & Fair ༓

༓ 'The love that follows us sometime is our trouble, which still we thank as love.' [Macbeth, William Shakespeare]

༓ Pairing. Trueform!Sukuna x Wife!Reader

༓ Synopsis. In a kingdom ruled by the feared and ruthless King, his reserved queen harbours a deadly secret. Devoted to her husband and his reign, she begins to punish those who defy him in the shadows, her hands stained with blood he never commanded her to spill. As guilt consumes her, she spirals deeper into madness, terrified of what Sukuna will do if he discovers the truth. But Sukuna, the King of Curses, knows far more than she realises. In a chilling confrontation, she must face the dark question: Does Sukuna's love run as deep as her sins, or is there something far more dangerous waiting in the shadows?

༓ Content. Inspired by Shakespeare's 'Macbeth' (Very loosely), sfw, Dark romance, Medieval Era, F!Reader, King/Trueform!Sukuna, Angst w/ comfort, Anxious & spiralling reader, Reader could be classed as a yandere (?), Protective Sukuna (?), Possessive Sukuna (?), Yandere (?) Sukuna, Emotional distress, Slight fear of abandonment, Spiralling, Mentions of death, Talks of violence, Hurt, Conflict of feelings, Mentions of Blood, Not proofread.

༓ Word Count. 3.5k

༓ A.N. I thought I should contribute to the spooky season, though exclude spooky and scary and replace them with anguish and spiralling madness. I had another random thought, drawing inspiration from Shakespeare's Lady Macbeth scene at the sink where here reader is secretly taking down those who reject Sukuna (and his rule) whilst spiralling into chaos but he finds out. [As, you already tell I am horrendous at tagging and disclosing content, let me know if I have missed anything out :)]

[Artwork by Gustave Moreau - 'Study for Lady Macbeth', 1851]

The night was thick with the weight of silence, suffocating and tense, pressing against the castle walls as if burdened by secrets of its own. The grand, cold castle loomed over the kingdom like an ever-watchful beast, its towering spires stretching into the night sky as shadows pooled beneath its battlements. Pale moonlight cast silver streaks across the stone floors, spilling through the halls and filling them with a ghostly light that seemed to intensify the gloom. The oppressive darkness was alive, seething in the corners of vast chambers and dreary corridors, pressing into every crevice like a silent judgement.

At the heart of this silence reigned the feared King of Curses, a sovereign whose iron and stone throne stood as a testament to his ruthless rule. His dominion was absolute—unyielding in cruelty, yet disturbingly effective. The people despised him, their whispers venomous, though none could deny that under his iron fist, the kingdom flourished. The harvests were plentiful, the borders secure, and enemies scattered like ash in the wind. But for all its prosperity, the kingdom lived under a cloak of shadows, a foreboding silence settling over its people and their ruler.

In the dim chambers of your own quarters, the same darkness felt suffocating, wrapping itself around you like a shroud. The air was heavy with the sharp, resinous scent of burning pine, mingling with the faint, metallic tang that clung to your skin as if it knew what lay on your conscience. You move through the pale light, haunted by the shadows of your deeds, the stone floors beneath your feet feeling cold and implacable, much like the guilt gnawing at your insides.

Enveloped in an otherworldly pallor, the room stretched vast and hollow, its walls draped in tapestries that told of battles long past, of victories soaked in blood. The heavy curtains, embroidered with dark emblems of power, hung motionless, like sentinels guarding the space. Their once grand opulence seemed stripped bare, eclipsed by the sins you carried, like spirits bound to your very soul. Every step you took echoed with the voices of those who had spoken against Sukuna—voices you had silenced and condemned in his name, though he had never commanded it. The room spun, your vision blurring as fragmented memories of punishment and blood swirled in your mind, sharp and piercing like shards of broken glass.

Outside, the wind’s mournful wail, weaving through the stone halls like a restless spirit, moaning for the damned as it rattled the iron-framed windows. And beneath that same iron sky, Sukuna—the man both feared and beloved—remained vigilant, a dark watchful presence in a kingdom thriving and suffering under his reign.

Yet, even the most powerful rulers had their shadows.

You were his wife, the queen who moved with silent grace through the corridors of his court, always by his side, always poised, always watching. While others feared his wrath and kept their distance, you remained the only one to whom he showed an unspoken tenderness. It was an odd love, one not built on affection but on something far deeper—an understanding of the cruelty of the world and the weight of power. He never uttered words of devotion, but his eyes lingered on you longer than they did on anyone else. And in that silence, you found a bond that could not be broken.

But bonds can fester, too, like wounds left unattended.

You stood at the ornate sink, water spilling over your trembling hands, though it did nothing to wash away the sins embedded in your skin. The marble basin beneath felt cold, unforgiving—a stark contrast to the marks you bore. The faucet, carved like a serpent’s maw, hissed ferociously, its flow indifferent to how furiously you scrubbed, how raw your hands had become. The blood was gone, dried long ago, but its crimson stain lingered vividly, as though it had seeped into your very soul. Each drop of water that fell seemed as though it should run red—a silent stream of accusation pooling at the bottom of the basin.

The mirror before you reflected a woman you no longer recognised. Your eyes were vacant, dulled by sleepless nights and the weight of your actions. Gaunt, pale, like the ghost of someone you once were. You wanted to scream and tear the image apart, to erase what you had become. Your chest tightened with the growing sense of dread. You could barely meet your own gaze, knowing full well what you had done, fearing that the reflection might whisper your wrongdoings back to you. And the fear—always, always—the gnawing dread of what he might say when he finds out. What would Sukuna, your husband and king, think of you now—his dutiful wife—tainted by the very blood you sought to cleanse? What if he cast you aside, repulsed by your actions, leaving you to languish in the darkness of your own guilt?

The truth was, you weren’t sure if you feared his anger more, or his indifference.

The misdeeds you had carried out—the punishments you had dealt out in the dark corners of the kingdom—had begun to claw at your mind. Those who rejected Sukuna, who cursed his name in the streets, had found themselves at your mercy. You had killed for him, with a coldness that even now frightened you. You did it not for the kingdom, not for the crown, but for the man behind the title. The man who held your heart in his calloused, monstrous hands—hands stained with bloodshed far beyond your own.

The footsteps came as they always did, slow, methodical, echoing through the cold stone halls long before he arrived. You stiffened, your ragged breath catching in your throat. Sukuna’s presence was like the weight of the kingdom itself—a force of nature, dark and indescribable, and you, standing there with blood on your hands—both literal and imagined—felt like a creature awaiting judgement. His judgement.

The door creaked open, and the temperature in the room seemed to drop as his towering frame filled the space. Even without seeing him, you could feel the sheer power he radiated, a terrifying, inescapable darkness that made him the ruler he was. He was feared, hated, worshipped, and he wielded it all with a ruthless hand. You loved him, too, though that love came with its own shadow, twisted and warped in the way only power could corrupt.

He didn’t speak at first, letting his slow and deliberate gaze sweep over you, the tension in the air thickening with each passing moment. You could feel the weight of his scrutiny, taking in every trembling movement, every faltering breath as you bore the burden of your sins, and it was clear that none of it had escaped his notice. His crimson eyes, sharp and unreadable, lingered on your hands, red from the water and from your desperate attempts to rid yourself of the evidence that existed only in your mind. The faintest twitch of his brow was the only sign of his reaction.

“Why do you trouble yourself, wife?” His voice, low and gravelly, cut through the silence like a blade, but not without an unexpected softness that hung in words. He stepped forward now looming over you, and you felt the pull of him, the dark magnetism that had drawn you into his orbit long ago. “What is it you hope to wash away?”

You froze, your heart thundering in your chest. He was too close now, his reflection joining yours in the mirror. His gaze was unflinching, cold yet calculated, as if he already knew the answer. Of course, he knew. Sukuna always knew, far more than he ever let on. He was not a man to be easily deceived, and yet you had tried—foolishly, pathetically—to keep your deeds hidden, believing that the blood on your hands would go unnoticed by a man who had waded through rivers of it. You had not yet answered him, but in the oppressive stillness of this chamber, he would draw the truth from your lips as certainly as the sun would rise.

The question hung between you like a blade suspended in midair. A thousand excuses raced to the tip of your tongue but none seemed sufficient. What could you say to him now? How could you confess the blood you had spilled without admitting the fear that drove you to it? That you thought you could act without his knowledge? That you could shield him, or worse, act in his stead?

“It’s nothing,” you murmured, the lie burning your throat as it left your lips, trying to force the words out as calmly as you could. “I’ve been restless, that’s all.”

He said nothing at first, his eyes—a deep, glowing crimson that burned through the dim light— narrowing with a terrifying patience, as though waiting for you to trip over your own words. His silence felt more damning than accusation, and you couldn’t help but shift under the weight of his gaze. Still, you dared not meet his eyes in the mirror, fearing what you might see there—disappointment, perhaps, or worse, apathy.

“Restless?” He repeated, his voice curling around the word like a snake tightening its coils. There, behind you, his presence was solid and immovable, much like the great stone walls of the castle itself. His hand had moved to your shoulder, heavy and possessive, his fingers cold against your skin. Deceptively gentle, his touch held an unmistakable strength, an authority that demanded answers.“You lie to me.” His voice was dark velvet, smoothing over the jagged edges of your panic, but each word sliced through the air, leaving you feeling bare, exposed.

With a gentle motion, he turned you to face him, his gaze capturing yours with an intensity that stole your breath away. His hand, large and rough from countless battles, brushed against your cheek, pushing aside a strand of your hair dampened with sweat. The gesture was too tender, too human for a man like him—a man who slaughtered thousands without a second thought, whose name was a curse on the lips of his enemies. And yet here he was, gentle with you, the only one in his kingdom to receive such mercy.

You leaned into his touch, a broken sigh escaping your lips as your knees threatened to buckle. Your body, fragile and trembling, was held up only by his presence. His hand, firm yet careful, traced the curve of your jaw, his thumb brushing against your pulse that fluttered like a trapped bird.

“Look at you,” Sukuna’s voice rumbled low, carrying an edge of something you haven’t heard before. Could it be…concern? “You’ve grown so pale.”

Your breath faltered, and you felt the sting of your heartbeat pounding in your ears. The lie had been pitiful, and now the truth hovered on the edge of your lips threatening to unravel everything. He knew already, didn’t he? Sukuna was no fool, and here you were tangled in your own web of fear and love, too afraid to admit what you had done. But now, standing in his shadow there was no escape.

“What have you done?”His voice was quieter now, but there was a dangerous sharpness to it, like a blade glinting in the dark..

His gaze shifted to your hands again, and the faintest frown tugged at the corners of his lips. He took your hands in his, lifting them from the water, the cold droplets running down your wrists like tears. He studied them, turning them over, his fingers tracing the raw skin where you had scrubbed at invisible bloodstains. The touch was almost reverent, as though he understood, in some unspoken way, the burden you carried.

"You've stained them for me." It wasn’t a question, but a statement. His voice was rough but slow, as if he were working through something. He could see the turmoil in your eyes, the haunted look that came from guilt and fear—fear of him.

How could you not fear him? He, who had bathed in the blood of his enemies and found joy in their screams? He had no right to judge you, to be angry or disappointed. He had slaughtered far more than you ever could, his hands forever soaked in the blood of the innocent and the damned alike.

“I…” you started, your voice shaking, “I only wanted to protect you.” The words came out too quickly, too desperate, and the moment you spoke them you regretted them.

His fingers traced a path up your neck, curling under your chin, forcing your face upward with his scarlet eyes boring into yours. “Protect me?” he murmured, his voice a dangerous purr, the barest hint of amusement playing at the corners of his lips. “You think I need protection?”

“No,” you whispered, trembling now, unable to hold his gaze any longer. “Not you…but those who sought to challenge you.” You swallowed hard, the confession falling from your lips before you could stop it. “The ones who spoke against you. They…they cursed your name. I couldn’t stand it. I couldn’t let them defy you. Not with their worthless lives and their petty defiance.”

A dark chuckle rumbled from his chest, low and humourless, vibrating through the air between you. His hand slipped from your chin to your shoulder, his grip tightening slightly, enough to make you feel the control he had over you, the power he held. “And so, you thought it was your place to end them?”

The pain came suddenly, like a hot blade piercing through your skull, leaving you gasping for breath. You pressed a trembling hand to your temple, your vision blurring as the world around you wavered. The familiar, nauseating throb of the headache began to claw at your mind, the weight of your guilt manifesting in sharp, crippling waves.

And then the memories came—hazy, fractured, like fragments of glass slicing through your consciousness. You saw flashes of faces twisted in agony, the sound of desperate pleas that had fallen on deaf ears. The crack of the whip as it tore through flesh, the sickening thud of bodies hitting the ground. Their eyes—wide, terrified, as they realised their fate. The words they had uttered against Sukuna, the defiance that had sealed their doom. You had watched, cold and distant, as their lives bled out before you, justifying it all in the name of loyalty.

Blood. So much blood. It stained your hands, dripping from your fingers, soaking into the earth. You tried to wash it away earlier, scrubbing frantically, but it clung to you, thick and accusing. The cries of the condemned echoed in your ears, haunting and relentless, as if they would never leave you. You saw the moment their eyes dimmed, the light of life snuffed out, and the weight of their deaths settled on your soul like an iron chain.

You blinked, the vision dissolving into the present, the pain still pounding behind your eyes. Your breaths came in shallow gasps, your body trembling as the memories faded, leaving you hollow. The room spun around you, and for a moment, you thought you might collapse under the weight of it all—the guilt, the shame, the horror of what you had done. Even now, even with his touch grounding you, the wrongs you had committed refused to let you go.

As you fought to regain your breath, your back pressed firmly against the cold stone, and your fingers dug into the edge of the sink, your knuckles white. “I thought… I thought you would be pleased,” you admitted, the words brittle and frail. “I did it for you.”

His gaze flickered, and for the briefest moment, something passed through his eyes—something that might have been understanding or amusement. Then it was gone, replaced by that familiar coldness. “You think I would have been pleased with your disobedience?” His voice was calm, yet it dripped with dark promise, a reminder of the power he wielded over you and the consequences that could follow.

“I would have thought,” he continued, “that you would come to me. Yet here you were, washing away the evidence of your transgressions as though I wouldn’t have known.”

You flinched at his words, the accusation clear, your heart hammering against your ribs. He was a king of slaughter, a creature born in blood. How could you have thought to deceive him?

Your lips trembled as you whispered, “I thought I was doing what you would have done.”

Sukuna’s lips curled into a slow, dangerous smile. “You misunderstand, wife.” His hand slid to the back of your neck, his fingers weaving through your hair with a possessive grip. “I kill because it is necessary. You kill out of fear.”

Your pulse quickened, panic rising in your chest, but his hand tightened just enough to keep you grounded, his voice softening as he spoke. “Do you think I wouldn’t have known what you have done? That I would let it pass unnoticed?” He leaned in closer, his breath hot against the side of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. “I know everything, even when you think you hide from me.”

Tears stung your eyes, and your lips parted, but no words came. He had known all along. He had watched you unravel, had let you dig yourself deeper into this darkness, even expecting you to come to him on your own. But you hadn’t. Instead, you had fallen deeper, spiralling into this madness, desperate to protect him, to prove your loyalty to a man who needed no protector.

He raised his other hand to your face, his fingers ghosting over your cheek, almost tender in the way they brushed aside the tears that spilled down. “You should not have feared me,” he said quietly, the darkness in his voice replaced by something softer, something that felt almost like affection. “I have bathed in blood far worse than this.”

He understood what you feared, even if you couldn’t say it aloud. You thought he would cast you aside for this—for acting in his name without his consent. But you had no reason to worry. Your actions, though misguided, came from a place he knew all too well—love, twisted and warped by power. And for that, he could not fault you.

His thumb grazed your trembling lips, silencing the sob that threatened to break free. And then, slowly, his hand moved upward, covering your eyes with his fingers pressing lightly against your eyelids, casting you into a sudden, terrifying darkness. You stiffened, but his touch remained gentle, his palm resting delicately against your skin as if to protect you from the weight of your own actions. You felt a moment of peace, of quiet—a reprieve from the torment that had consumed you.

“You worry for nothing,” he whispered against your ear, his voice low and intimate. “It is not judgement you should fear. Not from me.”

His words settled over you like a balm, easing the weight on your chest. He would not leave you. He had never intended to. Even in your spiral, in your darkest moments, he would not cast you aside. He, the king of slaughter, had already known what it meant to live with blood on his hands.

And then, you felt his lips brush against the corner of your mouth, a touch so soft, so delicate. You shuddered under the weight of that moment, the fear that had consumed you slowly dissipating like mist in the light of dawn. It was not a kiss of anger, nor of passion, but a dark promise, a reminder that you were his, bound to him by blood and love, no matter what you had done. You would always be his.

His hand slipped away from your eyes, and when you opened them again, you were left feeling exposed, raw under his gaze. Yet, there was no signs of disgust in him, no fury. He had known all along, had let you descend into this unravelling, but he had not abandoned you. Sukuna, the King of Curses, the tyrant feared by all, had always been waiting, knowing that no matter how far you strayed, you would always return to him.

“Come,” he whispered, his voice a low rumble, commanding but not unkind. “Leave the water behind. It cannot wash away what we are.”

He took your hand in his, pulling you gently away from the sink, the water long silenced behind you. The shadows whispered, but their hold on you had weakened. Sukuna had pulled you from the darkness you had created, and as he led you from the room, his grip firm but reassuring, you knew that whatever sins lay on your hands, you would not bear them alone.

A.N. I don't know how to feel about this piece, whether I hate it or like it. I also felt like I was descending into madness trying to bring this idea into fruition. Anyways, Happy Halloween :)

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bloop-bl00p · 4 months ago

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When you forget there’s sin in Seven Deadly Sins

[I guess this could be treated as part two of my rant about Hell’s ruling class.]

The Seven Sins are the embodiment of their vice, in a modern setting, they will probably be seeking to indulge in harmful activities themselves since they are immortal and can’t face consequences and influence others into falling into dangerous lifestyles. I can even see a scenario when each of them tries to make propaganda through the internet with platforms like Instagram or TikTok, like Beelzebub promoting Bezzle Juice except that it’s purposely made to be extremely addictive and one shot of it gets you hooked forever.

We’re gonna start with Lucifer, the only angel of the Seven. He’s a dreamer quirky cutie patootie with dePwezIOn that just wanted to give humanity Fwee Wil🥺.

What were Lucifer’s plans/dreams for humankind in the first place? He was dismissed as a troublemaker, okay…? What portrayed him as such? He’s a socially awkward silly guy but honestly, that’s all there is to his character. But I won’t get too deep with these questions maybe we’ll get more answers in Hazbin. However, what I can ask is…

How did Lucifer manage to find himself so close to The Garden of Eden? If I’m making something important I ain’t letting the petulant kid get close to it because… you know he might ruin it.

Elder or not Lucifer is still a Seraphim, did he not know that giving Free Will to humans would mess up everything? Even if HE didn't know what about the others? Were the angels even aware of Evil as a whole? If yes, why didn't they warn Lucifer before giving him access to Eden? Like “Hey dude the glowing red Tree in the middle of the Garden is bad news don’t let the mortals near it.” was it that hard?

Can someone explain to me how is this the embodiment of Pride? I personally don't see anything prideful in his attitude at all. Pride is the belief that you don’t need God in your spiritual journey, in a worst-case scenario, you think yourself above him. In the Bible, Lucifer was too Proud to bow before mankind and tried to overthrow God which led to his banishment. But since Viv totally changed the story and forgot to add the Pride elements, there’s nothing justifying Lucifer’s title as Pride incarnate.

TW: Mention of sexual assault/rape and a brief mention of other sexual practices.

Following with Asmodeus, why is he like this? Don't get me wrong, I can understand why he isn't a fan of rape as a whole, rape is rarely, dare I say never, about sexual craving, it’s about control. Val doesn't rape Angel Dust, and his employees because he feels needy, he assaults them because he knows that’ll break them psychologically and physically which makes them vulnerable to manipulation. Sexual assault as a whole is never about lust.

It makes sense if we drop out of the fact that Lust isn’t just physical but religiously speaking just an intense craving for something, like power or control. Viv took the easy way and reduced it to a physical craving so Asmodeus could be anti-rape I can’t blame her for that, it’s her ✨interpretation.✨

So Asmodeus is Pro Concent and it kinda makes sense. Since he’s the Prince of Lust, he technically should have influence over the culture in the Lust Ring and other species like Succubus should at least be weirded out by innuendo of non-consensual sex.

Well, shit.

“OooOoooOOH But Tiz is Not Rape!”

Compare the succubus’ abilities to aphrodisiacs and it all makes sense. Increasing someone’s libido without their consent alone is sexual misconduct proceeding to have sex with them later is rape. And it’s not the only instance of succubus assaulting people.

[Context: Ep3 S1, Verosika’s crew basically made condescending comments on how Moxie was cute and how they wanted to kiss him despite his discomfort and the fact that he mentioned being married. They still eventually kissed him by force and it was treated as a joke. “I care about male victims.” Sure we believe you.]

So Asmodeus is a hypocrite for giving succubus and incubus a way to get to Earth while knowing they are raping as many humans as possible.

“D3mOn @re BAAAAAAD Pweple So |t makse sense.☝️🤓”

I know, I wouldn’t complain that much if Asmodeus wasn’t painted as this cutie patootie lovely doe who is so in love with his lovely cute good boy partner.

Talking about partners, why does the Prince, no… why does LUST INCARNATE have ONE partner? The dude’s sex drive should be higher than the Olympus Mons and you’re telling me he doesn’t have a harem at disposition and he’s FAITHFUL?!! No free relationship, no hookups, no polyamorous relationship, and no mention of orgies he organizes to test the efficiency of his toys! Hell, we’re talking about Lust shouldn’t he be more inclined to have exhibitionist behavior (In recent episodes Lust’s citizens were desensitized about voyeurism so showing a bit of skin shouldn't be a problem)? Or, I don’t know, the ability to change his appearance and sex to appeal to a larger audience. Maybe the smoke secreted by his fire can serve as an aphrodisiac he only uses to put his partners in the mood (With their consent if she’s so attached to that idea.)

Viv, with two shows whose humor is mostly based on sex you certainly lack representations in terms of positive sexual activities, every time sex is mentioned in both of her projects it’s either a joke or diabolized. I’ve seen teens on Wattpad and AO3 writing foul smut with sexual practice so taboo it’ll make you gasp out loud! Take an example! (This was obliviously a joke but seriously, smut’s writers scare me with their tags.)

This leads us to Beelzebub, she’s supposed to be…. an animal tamer? She did not give off this vibe at all, she’s a party girl at best, stop saying things on Twitter Viv, and show it in your shows!

Is there a reason for her to be so nice? What do you mean you don’t want Bliztø to lose himself in alcohol and sex, you’re all about overindulgence. If anything she should actively invite people who are mentally distressed as they’ll be more willing to drink excessively in a “forget my life’s issues” type of way. This could also explain why so many people in her parties are minorities, Hellhounds and Imps are treated like shit by Hell’s society so being invited to one of Queen Bee’s parties will be a great honor and a way for them to forget how difficult their life is.

“E3RmS Actoualli, Bee ite the Viiiibe! S0 ze kant let Peple b3 s@d or ze will be sad too. ☝️🤓”

Ah… okay, still don't explain why she can’t be a bitch about it. Since she “eats the vibe” and feels for her people she could be affected by Blizt's destructive behavior and be absolutely furious someone is ruining her parties for her! Then she could have gotten to Loona and been like “Look your dad doesn't have the vibe I’m looking for so get him out unless you wanna learn what happen to party pooper.” implying that she will most likely kill him (or eat him) and that this isn't the first time she offed someone for that. But I guess we can make another EMBODIMENT OF SINS a decent girl, it’s Viv ✨interpretation.✨

Going forward with Mammon, Viv humanized the Sins mentioned up there, so you would think Mammon would also get the humanization treatment?

“T3re Is NOO g0od s|de to GrEed!!!!! 😡”

Okay.

What’s Greed, it’s a selfish desire for more than what you already have (money, fame, etc...) The mention of selfishness doesn’t give Greed a positive connotation but you forgot…. This is Viv ✨interpretation✨ she reduced Lust to craving sexual intimacy just so she could make Asmodeus Pro Concent. Beelzebub doesn't need food she eats the Viiiiibe so she can’t let people self-destruct! Here she’ll politely ask you to go away because she caaaaaares. And Lucifer isn’t Prideful at all.

She removed part of the definition of each Sins so she could make them good people and you’re telling me that she couldn't do the same for Mammon?!

“But H0w can ze posibli m@ke Greed Pozitif?”

If you remove the selfish aspect, Greed is wanting something more. There’s nothing wrong with that, like wanting more recognition, and more money when you’re poor. Mammon could have been this guy who worked himself at the top and his money could have been the fruit of his hard work.

So why, of all the Sins that got turned down was Greed the only one who got the “I’m pure Evil” treatment?

The Seven Deadly Sins aren't supposed to be decent beings. They represent the worst of what humanity can do and they are embodied by equally bad entities. With a setup as shitty as the Hellaverse, where there are little to no rules, slavery, classism, and drugs available everywhere I was expecting them to be a tad bit vicious, purposely making the life of everyone worse for their benefit. Mammon could have been the reason for this capitalist society as it’s the perfect environment to develop other sins and his. Yet, Beelzebub is friendly to the Hellhounds while letting them be treated like lesser than how we treat dogs. There’s even rehabs in Hell, Verosika and Barbie were in the same one.

Asmodeus will sue you if you rape someone unless you’re a succubus. Ironically he said that he’s against love potions when that’s literally what the succubus do with their abilities, get you in the mood without you knowing.

Lucifer is the number one silly guy and he even has an attraction parc for others to have fun.

I know it’s Viv ✨ interpretation✨ but you have to make it make sense. You can’t have demons this high-ranked being nice portray them as good people in the narrative when they are responsible for Hell being so unfair to the lower class.

As for the other sins…

Traditionally speaking Wrath isn't just unjustified violence but hatred and a desire for revenge. I think that’s one of the main reasons Satan and Lucifer are treated as the same person as Lucifer is both prideful, hates God, and seeks revenge. I don't see how Viv’s Satan could be vengeful as they were no war with Heaven to begin with.

Envy isn’t wanting something that someone else has (it’s jealousy), it’s hating someone because they have something that you don’t. Which often results in trying to make the life of this person worse but that’s another thing. I didn't see anything about Sloth and judging by the Sloth Ring, Beelphagor is going to be medical-themed, we know he makes drugs and has a brand of anti-depressant named “Happy Pills.” (Nothing to do with the circus aesthetic she was going for.)

I don’t know if Viv really has a good grasp of what these Sin are traditionally as she claims but we have to see in future episodes. My guess is no.

#anti vivziepop #hazbin hotel critical #hazbin hotel criticism #vivziepop critical #vivziepop criticism #vivziepop critique #hazbin hotel critique #helluva boss critique #helluva boss criticism #helluva boss critical

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fallingskiesandrisingseas · 2 years ago

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Some more headcanons when the Pevensies come back to England:

-All of them have a strange lisp from living in Narnia for so long. When they are together, they will often speak Narnian, and when asked about the origins of the strange language no one else understands, all they give you is a mysyerious smile.

-It is absolutely impossible to get a rise out of Susan. When taunted, ridiculed or tested by other girls who envy her confidence, all she will do is smile and offer some words of advice. She has dealt with threats far more serious and deadly than high school British kids, and she finds their little power plays nothing but funny Soon, it becomes an unwritten rule not to mess with her. She'll smile back and kill you with kindness.

-Edmund and Peter spend the first few weeks learning how to walk without a sword at their side. All their adult lives, they've worn one, and they still compensate for the weight slightly. Especially Peter, commander of the armies, feels extremely naked without his blade.

-Lucy has the hardest time getting used to England again. The girls her age are mean and stupid, and she finds it hard not to call them out on it. Her intelligence is often mistaken for arrogance. She throws herself into dancing, the one thing Narnia has given her that is of use in the normal world.

-Edmund is completely changed, overnight it seems. Where he was first a nagging, annoying brat, he now seems a beacon of calmness and wit, able to solve any problem. The bond with his brother Peter is so strong the two seem to be able to read each others minds. This is especially true during fencing class, where they are the two best students by a distance. They move so in sync some people wonder if they are twins

-The first time the Pevensies ride horses together again the rest of class gasps audibly. They all seem to grow taller in the sadle, and they communicate with their horses in a way that seems impossible.

-Peter never gets used to the disrespect other kids show him, and will respond to every insult with a blow. He doesn't get over what they have lost , and writes story after story about the most beautiful imaginary world he calls Narnia. His teachers, from English to theology to history, all agree that he should be a writer. But the fighting only gets worse. Soon, kids have to gang up on him to even be able to touch him. And when Edmund decides to help, it's basically a wrap. He is far smarter than he lets on, and his back is always so straight it seems like he is 3 inches taller than his classmates. Bullies learn to avoid him, and he is fiercly loyal to his friends, even if that gets him in trouble.

-There is a rumour that the Pevensies are royals or at least nobles . No one knows from where, but the war could have changed things. Either way, they are everyone's favorite gossip subject.

#narnia #narnia meta #peter pevensie #edmund pevensie #lucy pevensie #susan pevensie #the lion the witch and the wardrobe #cs lewis

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thydungeongal · 2 months ago

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Fantasy Adventure Games part 1

I've mentioned this in passing but like there's a genre of TTRPGs that I call the "fantasy adventure game" that is nebulously defined and that is ultimately what a lot of people look for when they look for TTRPGs. They're basically games in the same broad genre as D&D, characterized by the following:

Cooperative. Player characters are expected to form an adventuring party of some type that cooperates to overcome adversity.

Challenge-based. Ultimately the action in these games revolves around overcoming obstacles in the pursuit of some goal. These obstacles often include combat but can also be different types of adversity, such as environmental obstacles or other complex situations that must be maneuvered.

Fantasy. These games take place in fantasy settings, whatever that means. More often than not this means a medieval or early modern level of technology and aesthetics heavily informed by medieval Europe and classical antiquity.

Anyway I sometimes get asks from people who want to stay within the fantasy genre and roughly the same genre of play as D&D but who chafe at some of the expectations of D&D, so I'm compiling this list of games in order to give you a starting point. This list is not meant to be exhaustive and it will reflect my own biases when it comes to what games on the market I am aware of.

This first part will cover the Trad, or Traditional, side of the Fantasy Adventure Game genre. Trad is another nebulously defined term but ultimately what I mean by it is the sort of mainstream RPG design with a pedigree that goes all the way back to the seventies. Yes, even though games have changed a lot since 1974, I think there is a clear design lineage that can be traced from the early days of the hobby to most modern fantasy RPGs. I will keep games like Pathfinder and OSR games offa the list for now.

RuneQuest by Chaosium. The original RuneQuest was one of the first non-D&D fantasy RPGs that entered the hobby and it still remains around. Since its inception, RuneQuest has contrasted with D&D mostly in terms of its more modest character power scaling, more deadly combat, universal magic, and lack of classes and levels. Where D&D (every edition) is ultimately a game where characters will quickly grow to superheroic levels of power, RuneQuest characters are much more grounded, growing in skill and capability but always staying at a level of power where a single attack can end a would-be hero's adventuring career very quickly. RuneQuest is also heavily tied to the fantasy setting of Glorantha, a mythic bronze age fantasy setting with extremely intricate metaphysics and mythology. The current edition of RuneQuest is once again tied explicitly to Glorantha after years of the game having been detached from the Glorantha license, and in addition to adventuring in the world of Glorantha the game places a heavy emphasis on characters becoming characters of importance in the tribes and cults they belong to, and the game turns downtime between adventures into a major part of its gameplay.

Warhammer Fantasy Roleplay by Cubicle 7. Unbeknownst to many, the first edition of Warhammer, the miniatures wargame, actually featured full rules of playing the game as a roleplaying game instead of an army scale wargame. These rules would later act as the foundation for Warhammer Fantasy Roleplay, now in its fourth edition. Warhammer Fantasy Roleplay, or WFRP for short, is characterized by being a more ground level look at the Old World of the Warhammer fantasy wargame, and it gives a much grimmer and grittier view of the world than sometimes portrayed in the miniatures game. WFRP is not a game of larger than life heroes going to battle against the forces of Chaos: it's a game about peasants, bandits, rat catchers, and apprentice wizards taking part in small-scale skirmishes that might sometimes involve the forces of Chaos but are ultimately just drops in the ocean compared to the great tsunami of Chaos rolling towards the world. Much like RuneQuest, it is characterized by a more grounded power level, with characters starting in ultimately mundane professions and not rising meteorically in power, but compared to RuneQuest its setting is much more grimy and gritty, and far from being universally available, magic is both rare and dangerous.

Rolemaster by Iron Crown Enterprises. Another classic fantasy RPG from the eighties, Rolemaster has experienced a recent resurgence, with many dubbing 2024 "the year of Rolemaster." Rolemaster was originally born out of the developers' frustrations in trying to run a D&D campaign set in Middle-earth and the game constantly struggling to produce fiction that would befit the late and great J.R.R. Tolkien's work. For some reason they decided to make Rolemaster. But to be serious for a moment, despite its failure to model the sort of action present in Tolkien's work, Rolemaster is on its own terms a crunchy and detailed fantasy RPG that is a good fit for those who chafe against the abstract nature of most other fantasy RPG systems. Rolemaster as a system is heavily characterized by the use of "open-ended" 1d100 rolls (rolls which explode both on high and low rolls), extremely gruesomely detailed critical hit, fumble, and spell failure tables, and gameplay that largely revolves around table lookup. It also has its own, very unique set of metaphysics that make it stand out from most fantasy RPGs.

Fantasy AGE by Green Ronin Publishing. Originally the system that powered their officially licensed Dragon Age RPG, the Fantasy AGE system is a 3d6-based system that while clearly owing heavily to D&D (in addition to obvious influences from the Dragon Age CRPG, the game is in many ways a successor to Green Ronin's earlier d20-based True20 system) aims for a more cinematic approach to play. A lot of what the game has to offer will be instantly familiar to D&D players: characters are defined via their species and class; while there are only four classes (Warrior, Rogue, Mage, and Envoy in the second edition), players get to further choose specializations for their character that will give them access to more unique abilities; characters advance in levels which unlock new abilities according to their class. Fantasy AGE tries to go for a more cinematic style, with each 3d6 roll having the possibility of producing a "stunt," where players get to spend stunt points on additional effects depending on the action in question. It thus promises to be a game where the situation is constantly changing and the action is exciting and high-flying.

Break!! by Madriñan & Tartaglia. The recent winner of the Gold Ennie Award for Best Family Game 2024, Break!! is a science fantasy adventure game firmly grounded in classic TTRPG design (with old-school D&D as one of the clearest of its many influences) but with inspirations taken from anime and classic video games. Break!! doesn't exactly bring a lot of new and exciting design to the table, but it comes with such fantastic presentation and clarity of purpose that it makes one excited at the sheer prospect of playing it. Like, just look at how nicely their website is presented! The game itself has similar presentation.

Warrior, Rogue & Mage by Stargazer Games. A rules light traditional fantasy RPG, WRM boils down character abilities to three abilities: Warrior, Rogue, and Mage. WRM is a very simple and easy to digest fantasy RPG that while far from crunchy still has a bit of bite to it. Character creation is simple and largely consist of assigning points to the three stats, choosing skills, buying equipment, and choosing spells (for characters with a Mage attribute of 1 or higher). The game is entirely free and there is a wealth of free supplements for it as well.

Next time I'll be talking about either the OSR, the "Alt" school of design, tactical combat games (basically, successors to 4e that warrant a separate look), 3e successors, or idk, who knows.

#long post #fantasy adventure games

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leonw4nter · 8 months ago

Note

could you do a fic for re4 leon where he and fem!reader are in a relationship (secret bc they can’t let the agency find out) they are on the spain mission together and luis starts flirting with her and its taking everything in leon for for him to not say “thats my girlfriend” or something like that?

sorry if this is specific i just thought of it in the middle of class

Music For Two People in A Secret Relationship

RE4R!Leon x F!Agent!Reader

Leon is a stickler for the rules. Well, he was– he made sure that he followed the rules he was made to obey, even when he didn’t exactly agree with them. One fine training day, you lunged at him with a combat knife, a deadly fire in your eyes and he felt the ground beneath him shift. He had to move and dodge away from the next offense, even if he wanted to give himself time to admire you. You moved like a panther, your gaze much more penetrating than the blade you held in a reverse saber grip; you embodied one too, light footfalls as you circled him before pouncing with your claws out towards the man in front of you. If giving in to the calling of his heart is a crime then he’d gladly be an outlaw.

Here he is now, dancing around the rules in order to be your boyfriend; twisting, bending, and extending his will to resist the temptation to hold your hand in the walls of the USSTRATCOM headquarters, proudly referring to you as “his” and for him to hear you call him “yours” towards colleagues and higher-ups. He had to settle for the tension-filled stares across the briefing room, the kinds of looks that set off sparks in his chest, and the electric accidental brushes of his finger against yours as he reaches for something.

Although Valdelobos is everything but idyllic, he’s thankful for the opportunity to be with you despite this decrepit village being another reminder of Raccoon City; he wouldn’t want to relive Raccoon City again but it’s less triggering for him because he’s with you … and a certain Spanish gentleman with a penchant of flirting with his girlfriend; he didn’t trust the man one bit but what choice did he have? The man held vital information regarding the villagers and Umbrella; a former scientist, Luis claimed. Despite him being a little different from the usual scientists behind BOWs, he seemed to know a lot regarding the cult and the parasite– Las Plagas. Charming and charismatic too, the perfect man all in all. He also served as the brains behind the group, oddly familiar with the puzzle mechanisms that the Los Illuminados employed.

Now, all of you were stuck in this misty baroque ballroom somewhere in Salazar’s palace. As soon as everyone was inside the room, the big wooden doors closed and several locks were heard clicking in place. Silence followed, Ashley huddled in the middle by you, Leon, and Luis’ bodies as you formed a protective circle. The fact that silence followed and not the groans and cultic chanting unsettled everyone, unused to this odd peace. After a few moments of guns being out, Luis’ Red 9 is holstered back into its brown leather confines.

“Do you smell that,” he softly whispers. “The rusty air. This ballroom was an old bastion for the Los Illuminados, held their sacrifices here but albeit more… morbid. Sacrifices were released like bulls in a bullpen, they all tried to escape while trying not to die on the way– had to escape booby traps and avoid stepping on the wrong tiles. There’s a lot more with the trap system they set up and they’re all elaborate.”

The atmosphere that hung over everyone was heavy and miserable now that Luis had to point out the history behind the room. No one stepped foot away from where they were standing, afraid to trigger something to fly out and impale someone.

“What ballroom is this,” Ashley asks.

“The Birdcage,” Luis responds. “La Jaula de Pájaros.”

“I’ve read somewhere about certain macabre ballrooms being connected to cult hide-outs and traps and usually, the ways to beat those traps is somehow connected to culture like dances and poems,” she begins to explain. “Basically, we might need to dance or make music to make it out alive for this one. Just like… just like a bird. Wait– this place’s name is ‘birdcage’ so we have to escape like birds by means of making music and moving around like how birds chirp and fly!”

“Make music? How exactly,” you ask.

“Rhythmic tapping might be one of them,” Luis suggests.

You look at the people around you, eyebrows meeting in the middle as their foreheads crease in focus and worry. Leon bent down and observed the ground, calloused fingers grazing over the cracked tiles. With each lengthy swipe of his finger, he noticed that the imprints on the ground had a pattern. He leaned closer to the ground and observed what looked like musical notes; he turned to the ground Ashley stood on and noted the same patterns of notes and symbols used.

“There’s musical notations on the ground, maybe we can use that for the rhythm of our tapping,” Leon informs the group. “Who here can read music–”

“I can,” you interrupt. You bend down, fingers skimming over the etching. After a few seconds of remembering which notes sounded a certain way, you get back up and relay the information you just got. You get everyone’s attention and start humming the tune before softly stomping your boots on the ground, asking everyone else to follow along to make sure that they remember the beat.

“Uh guys,” Ashley speaks up. “We have to start soon.”

She points to the ceiling, several ganados kept in cages dangling overhead. The ceilings may be high from where you all stood, but there was nothing separating your group and them. With a determined yet wary nod, you nod to Luis. He approaches you and bows, to which you respond with. He slowly places his hand on your waist, the other gently holding your gloved hand. You glance at Leon, seeing him do the same with Ashley with the placements of his hand in areas that don't make Ashley feel uncomfortable. You give Leon another nod, signifying the start of the dance. Your pair and Leon’s slowly drift to opposite parts of the room, dancing a fierce tango with rhythmic footfalls. You could dance but not in this way and you were lucky that Luis was there to guide you. In the drop of the beat, he spun you and for a quick moment you saw Leon glance at your direction before turning his gaze back to Ashley and making sure he doesn’t mess up his part and involve Ashley in whatever fuck-up he might make. You wouldn’t admit this to Luis but you wished that it was Leon who was spinning and dipping you, that it was the large hand of Leon’s that was perched on your waist. Maybe you’d like to go dancing with Leon once this shit is all over, maybe invite Luis too but you’ll spend most of the evening slow dancing with Leon when you’ve both had one too many drinks. You knew that Leon felt the same based on the gawking Leon unintentionally does, those types of gawks that once you blink, you’d miss and assume that you were just seeing things differently. As much as Leon admitted that Luis was a gifted dancer to his standards, he wished that he could just swoop in and swing you around, to feel your hand around his neck and for you to gaze up dreamily at you when he dips your body. It doesn’t take long for you to get into the dance, the twirls and spins along with the echo of the taps of shoes helping you get into the feel of dancing even though this dance could very much determine whether or not everyone will make it out of this ballroom.

After a few minutes of dancing, all of you finish the beat and you hear a faint click. The eyes and mouth of a tarnished Tarasca statue moves, its neck opening to reveal an ornate conical capsule. Hastily, you run to the statue and take the capsule and twist it open. An intricate copper key falls out.

“We might be able to get out of this,” Leon points out. Hurriedly, he runs to the doors and inserts the piece of metal to the keyhole.

“Careful, Sancho. This thing is brittle,” Luis reminds him. “All that dancing will be for nothing if the key snaps while it’s inside!”

“I know what I’m doing,” your partner seethes.

The faint sound of the door lock’s mechanisms clicking to unlock causes everyone to breathe a sigh of relief, Leon pushing the doors open to let everyone out before himself. You mouth a small thank you to him, to which he responds with a small smile. He finally gets out and urges everyone to run, since the cages holding the ganados were being lowered. After a few minutes, everyone is now out of the palace. All of you stop by the ruins of an old stone house, sinking to the ground to catch your breath.

“Hah… D-didn’t know… hah… you looked lovely in pink,” Luis points out with a tired yet smug smirk bringing a finger up to motion to the flush in your cheeks. “Etérea.”

The Spaniard doesn’t miss the way the blond’s gaze slightly darkens, moving to you as he places a hand on your back as you still catch your breath. You look at Leon as he asks if you’re okay, to which you give him a small smile and a thumbs-up. Leon withdraws his hand from your back to radio back to Hunnigan, giving her information on where you just came from and how everyone’s doing. Since you managed to catch your breath, you check on Ashley who’s doing a lot better now. You offer her the remaining water in your flask, to which she gulped down audibly.

“Water never tasted so divine, holy crap,” she exclaimed as she handed you your flask back.

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

Since you and Leon were unsure of the safety of the area, you decided that it would be best for you to start moving somewhere less dangerous. Ashley was growing tired, grumbling about her feet hurting but she was still soldering on, walking without breaks. Luis’ chatter made the trip less boring, occasionally talking to Ashley and then flirting with you. After seeing Leon’s subtle reaction to him complimenting your flushed cheeks after running, the cheeky side of Luis decided to flirt with you some more to see how far he can push the reserved and stoic man.

“Hey,” Luis begins. “After all this, what do you say to a little Spanish countryside getaway? You and me.”

“Sounds nice,” you say. “But I’ve got a little night out scheduled with someone when I get back.”

“You aren’t exactly saying ‘no’.”

“I’m going to have to confirm this with my boyfriend. You’re a chill man but I still have to let my man know.”

Luis simply chuckles, his steps slowing down so he’ll fall in step with Leon who is busy craning his head here and there, trying to spot any threat before a possible threat spots you. Well, this is only half true. As soon as he heard Luis proposing the future prospect of him showing off the Spanish countryside to you, he forced himself to pay attention to something else other than the fact that you’re smiling and laughing softly at the Spaniard. The agent brushes whatever he heard off, knowing that his girlfriend loves him and only him but the fact that he can’t do much, especially that their relationship isn’t exactly encouraged at their agency and the fact that they’re both at work; he’s relieved that you aren’t returning his flirting. All he can afford to do is to ask if you’re fine by masking it behind the simple concern for a coworker and nothing more.

“How’re you holding up, Sancho Panza,” Luis whispers to which Leon responds with silence.

“Ah, I think I know why you’re silent,” the chatty man beside him observes. “It’s because… you like her!”

Leon stops in his tracks and looks at Luis with a slightly baffled expression, head tilted with his eyes slightly squinted before proceeding to walk again, the squelch of his boots against mud resuming again.

“I know just the remedy to this, Leon,” Luis excitedly begins, lowering his voice just before he continues the rest of his sentence. “Y’know, I know a nice bar somewhere in Madrid. Good drinks, good music. I’m sure she’d love it there.”

Leon stays silent again but mentally notes the ‘good drinks, good music’. It would be nice to take her somewhere upbeat.

“But if that’s getting a bit too ahead of our current predicament then you can offer to tend to her wounds, best done in the evening when the night is cold and the fire is the only thing keeping us warm. It’s a sincere tender moment, just imagine it: you, her, and the rustling of trees. She–”

“She’s my girlfriend. I’ve done plenty of that and more so she’d go out with me,” Leon interrupts.

Luis freezes on the spot, eyes the size of golf balls, with his mouth ajar. Leon simply smirks and scoffs at the sight, trudging on. After a few moments, Luis comes rushing back to him. Luis is just staring at him, going off at him in Spanish while he just continues walking and tries to hide a smug grin. Luis wraps up on whatever he was saying, now staring back and forth at you and him before walking a little faster to join you and Ashley several steps ahead. The usual cocky expression makes its way back to Luis’ face, shooting you and Leon a knowing look now before chuckling along. Moments later, Leon decides to speed up walking to be able to catch up with everyone. He hears Ashley and Luis exchanging jokes with you occasionally laughing and butting in with your own. Out of the blue, Leon nonchalantly wraps an arm around your waist, much to Luis and Ashley’s shock.

“Ash, don’t tell HQ about this,” you whisper with a wicked grin before getting on your tiptoes and planting a kiss on Leon's cheek.

NOTE - Thanks to the lovely anon that requested this, I hope you enjoyed reading this :) I had a lot more fun writing this since I had to think a little more than I usually do when I write (if it makes sense), especially for the ballroom part of the fic. I'll try to write for other versions of Leon soon since I mostly write about RE2 Leon. Also, does anyone know the manga 'Veil' ?? I've recently (yesterday) got into it and now I'm hoping that physical copies are being sold where I live... Aleksander is cute I'll say that (I NEED AN ALEKSANDER IN MY LIFE IM SO ALONE AND SINGLE RIGHT NOW- SINGLE SINCE BIRTH EVEN). Anyways, that's it and thank you soo much for reading my fics!! I <3333 UUUUUU !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! The dividers are made by @benkeibear , the images are made by me (sourced from Pinterest).

#leon kennedy #resident evil #fluff #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy x y/n #leon s kennedy fluff #leon kennedy x reader #leon scott kennedy #leon s kennedy #re2 #resident evil 4 #resident evil x reader #biohazard #resident evil 4 remake #re4make #re4 remake #re4r

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