#google tells me it means victory or something. do with that what you will.

[thomacrumbs]

you're on your own, kid, you always have been.

childe x gn! reader, soulmate au (flowers bloom on your skin where your soulmate got hurt, they fade away when your soulmate touches them). so like....... i was going through my files and realised i never posted this (i think. at least. its been like a year) so i edited it. enjoy 🥳

“your soulmate flowers-- they’re gone!”

the woman from the docks had pulled your arm towards her and awed, running her fingers over the nicks in your arm, “did you meet them?”

you were notorious for the laurestines that budded upon your arm, seeking to nestle themselves into every crook and cranny of your body. it was worse when you were younger, around 14 was when you first started choking on the white of laurestines, throat erupting in pain as you tried to suppress the bile, terrified at what was happening-- and worse, what was happening to your soulmate?

“i did.”

“what are they like?”

tartaglia-- or sweetheart, as he makes you call him. he clung to you like a drowning man, mouthing at your neck as gloved hands intertwined themselves with yours, the bundle of white dying at his lips and shrinking before turning into nothingness. he presses into you with a chuckle, breathing you in as his hand finds the laurestine that matches the bruise he had gotten in sparring against the traveller, his fingers tracing love hearts around the bud before he strokes his thumb over the flower, finger pressing flat against your skin in a soft smother, idyllic murmurs trailing out of his mouth as he sighs and rubs his cheek against your shoulder.

“he’s… something.”

you had grabbed him by the arm, and with a smile on his face the idea of the perfect soulmate turns to pull you in closer. the snezhnayan breeze cards through his hair. he’s perfect, a reflection of the ideal, tall, handsome, impossibly rich-- not to mention just the right balance of loving & protective. his fingers always found earnestly drawing daisies into your skin and the constant seeking to intertwine his pinkie with yours. his love, delivered & tied so neatly as the bow that adorned the box that accompanied the letter he sent from liyue-- frivolous fancies and trivial dreams spouted across paper in dark ink that had the same highs and rolls as him, with straight lines and stabbed dots.

but under all that is the boy who found himself in the abyss, the one who made you cough up flowers and leave you stroking at your throat and humming pains out years later. the one who does not know the difference between the red on his hands-- whether it is his or someone else’s. but when he sees the red on your hands, and that glassy look you watch him with, he does nothing but kneel at your feet, mumble quiet apologies as he traces the bud, flower not even truly open and in full glory as it dies, silent in its short uneventful life.

“what’s wrong?” he had asked, once, pulling his gloves on as the two of you stand by the door of your house. the world howls outside.

but you can only shake your head, words suddenly stuck in your throat, unable to be coughed out.

“be safe,” is the only thing that slips out, croaked under the veil of moonlight across the cold.

in these plains of broken towers, beyond the cold of the mountains and snow of the loveless land, you found sparking familiarity cradled between your hands and pulled out of your throat.

“its just a fatui meeting,” at your huff, he laughs, pressing a kiss to your forehead as if you were made of glass, his gloved knuckles running up and down your arm in a poor imitation at a will for warmth, “alright, i’ll be careful.”

and you let him go, all that is left of him.

[httplilyyy]

𝐒𝐄𝐗𝐔𝐀𝐋 𝐅𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 || 𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐀 𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐒𝐎

pairing: alessia russo x reader

summary: alessia just couldn't contain herself, especially when you spoke in spanish

warnings: smut, swearing, suggestive themes, fingering (r giving), oral (r giving), overstimulation, thigh riding & a shit ton of neck kisses | minors dni

word count: 2.7k

a/n: a big thank you to @ohgrays for letting me use their prompt, i hope i did it justice! and the only word i know in spanish is hola so blame google translate for any of the mistakes :)

woso masterlist

The sound of a door slamming caused you to flinch in your spot. You stood in the middle of the living room, staring at the space where Alessia once stood. Sighing to yourself, you ran a hand through your hair.

Only up until recently had you and Alessia been arguing. After a devastating loss to the Lionesses in the world cup final, your girlfriend's sorrow was made by your victory.

Spain winning the world cup was only the start, soon the pressure of joining Arsenal joined the mix and added onto that, she lived with you.

You didn’t get to spend much time celebrating, instead it was full of arguments and fighting with your girlfriend. It all came into play when she dismissed your hug on the pitch and very quickly made its way back to your house.

Going from skipping meals and sleeping further away in your bed to staying over at a friend's place and ignoring each other completely.

The only times the two of you did talk, ended like this. Another fight. But this wasn't one you were going to let slide.

“Less, open the door.” You said, knocking on your bedroom door but you didn’t get an answer. “Less!”

“You’re everywhere! Jesus, I just want some space.” Alessia shouted as she opened the door, staring at you with anger.

“Oh, I'm everywhere? This is my house too, Alessia.” You scoffed, crossing your arms and looking down at her.

“So what? Fuck off to somewhere else.” Alessia replied, raising her hand up and gesturing to the rest of your house behind you.

“No, we’re talking this out.” You said, standing your ground.

“Absolutely not, now if you will please leave me alone, I’m going to go to Ella’s.” Alessia said, turning around to shut the door on your face.

“Yeah, that’s not happening.” You muttered, holding the door open with one hand and walking into your bedroom.

“Fucking hell, y/n! Just leave me alone!” Alessia stressed, her hands tugging at her hair.

“Not until you tell me what I did to make you act like this. Quiero decir, mierda, qué te hice, eh?”

“You really wanna talk this out? Fine, you didn’t deserve to win the world cup!”

“That's what this is about? Fucking hell, Less. I mean what are you trying to say? Que te lo merecías más que yo? That’s low, Less, real fucking low.”

You stared at Alessia, chest heaving up and down, a little hurt that she could think, let alone say, something like that.

“There I said it, you can leave me alone now.” Alessia said, turning around to her wardrobe.

“No no no. No hemos terminado de hablar de esto.” You said, your accent slipping out more due to your anger. “Look at me.”

You stared at Alessia, waiting for her to turn around but she didn't. You moved from your spot and took a hold of her arm, forcing her to turn around and look you in the eye.

“I’m not done.” You whispered in a dangerously low tone.

“I-” Alessia started but before she could stop herself or even comprehend what she was doing, she grabbed the back of your neck and pulled you in for a kiss.

You tried to pull away but she turned you around, pushing you against the wall, trapping your body with hers.

She tugged on your hair, her lips moving down to your jaw and trailing their way to your neck. She nipped and sucked on your pulse point causing breathy moans to escape your lips before she slowly pulled away.

“Leave me alone.” Alessia whispered against your lips, pushing you harshly into the wall.

“Wha-?” You were dumbfounded, completely shocked by Alessia’s behaviour.

“I told you I wanted space.” Alessia huffed, moving away from you.

“Pushing me up against a wall and kissing me is your idea of space?” You retorted, raising an eyebrow in question.

“No-”

“No?” You questioned, talking a step towards Alessia only for her to take one back

“I just got frustrated.” Alessia defended, continuing to walk back ‘til the backs of her legs came into contact with your bed.

“Sexually frustrated?” You teased, stopping a few centimetres away from her. “Do I turn you on, Alessia?

You tilted your head to the side, waiting for Alessia’s response but it never came.

“I’ll ask you one more time,” You said, leaning in so your mouth was beside her ear, “te excito, Alessia?”

Alessia let out a small whimper and if you weren't standing so close you wouldn't have heard it.

You leaned in to reconnect your lips once more. The anger and tension merged with Alessia’s desperation and passion perfectly, your lips moving cohesively.

The taste of your tongue was addicting and Alessia couldn’t get enough. She pulled you in, leading to the two of you falling onto your bed.

Placing an arm out to catch your fall, your lips separated causing you to pull back and look into the striker’s eyes. Manoeuvring around slightly, Alessia ended up leaning against the headboard with you sitting on top of her.

The two of you stared into each other's eyes, waiting for either of you to do something. The anticipation finally broke with Alessia’s move, and her hand moved to grab your shirt, pulling you closer. With your hand at her abdomen, Alessia moved her palm to the back of your neck.

As your lips moved desperately against each other, Alessia's hands trailed down to your waist, where she gripped tightly and pulled you towards her. Letting out a small groan against her mouth, you continued to rock your hips with Alessia’s guidance.

“Shit, Less.” You whispered, letting your head fall onto her shoulder.

“Am I making you feel good?” She questioned, increasing the pace of your hips.

You nodded against her, not being able to form words as you felt your stomach contract with each roll of your hips.

“Use your words baby.”

“Tan buena, mi amor. Asi- so good.”

“Fuck.” Alessia mumbled.

You started to place kisses at the base of Alessia’s neck causing her to tilt her head back, allowing you more access. Hungrily devouring at her neck, you were spurred on by the small whines that left her mouth.

"More." Alessia begged, hand tangling itself in your hair and pushing your face further into her neck, keeping a firm grip on you to ensure you didn't pull away.

Smiling ever so slightly, with one last rut of your hips the pleasure you were feeling all came down onto you like a tidal wave, crashing over you again and again.

You placed one last kiss to Alessia's neck before moving to be face to face. Resting your hands on her shoulders, Alessia kept hers on your waist. You trailed one hand up to her cheek, your thumb grazing over her features.

Alessia’s eyes met yours with a darkened intensity, your thumb tracing over her bottom lip. The blonde striker parted her lips ever so slightly allowing you to carefully slip your thumb between her lips.

You completed the action slowly, leaning forward to intensify the emotions. You watched on with a grin which slowly turned into a smirk, feeling the warmth of Alessia’s mouth around the pad of your thumb.

Your thumb left her mouth, and a new feeling was in the air. Whilst your thumb remained on Alessia’s bottom lip, you dragged it downward slowly.

With Alessia’s jaw in your hand, you took the silence to be an invitation. You tilted Alessia upward, leaning over just slightly to connect your lips. Although the kiss was perfect, the two of you couldn't help but want more out of it, aching and hungry.

With Alessia’s bottom lip latched in yours, you led the kiss, increasing the tension and emotions with every movement. Your other hand found itself tangled in her hair, tugging gently to pull a reaction out of her.

"Y/n, please." Alessia whimpered against your lips.

"Please what?" You wondered, pulling back from her slightly, a smirk tugging at your lips, "words, baby."

"Touch me. I want you so bad, please." She begged, bucking her hips up, desperate to find some friction.

"How do you want me?" You asked, voice slightly raspy with arousal.

"Fingers, mouth, anything. I just want you." Alessia was desperate at this point, her sexual frustration becoming too much to handle.

"How 'bout both?" You questioned as you trailed kisses down her body.

Lifting her shirt up, you pulled it off her body along with her bra. Your hands moved from Alessia’s waist to her stomach, to her ribs and then to her breasts. You internally beamed when you noticed that her nipples were hardening under your touch.

You leaned down and placed a kiss in the valley of Alessia’s breasts causing her to suck in a sharp breath as she waited to see what your next move would be. You distributed kisses along her neck and collarbone before Alessia finally felt your lips meet her nipple.

One hand lightly massaged her left breast whilst your mouth went to the other, alternating between the two. Alessia’s back arched at your touch as you continued your actions. You left marks everywhere on her chest as she held onto you, her nails digging onto any skin that she could find.

Slowly moving your hands from her breasts, they trailed down to her thighs. A loud gasp emits from her lips as you squeeze at her legs, slowly pulling down her shorts.

Your next kiss is on her inner thigh, not the teasing kind despite the placement. It's open mouthed and messy, your mouth trailing from the sensitive skin towards your much anticipated destination.

Your fingers drift down, fiddling with the hem of Alessia’s panties before teasing her from the outside. Your fingers lightly running over the underwear, a noticeable wet patch showing through the fabric.

Whines and begs slipped from Alessia’s mouth, pleas for you to touch her. But, you stop your movements, looking at her dead in the eyes.

"What do you want? Say it, use your words." You demand, watching Alessia so closely she could come just from your gaze.

"Please, y/n… I want you to touch me."

The satisfied smirk on your face made Alessia want to punch you, but her desperation overtook her urges.

"Where, bebé? Here? Or...” You slide your hand from her breats down to her pussy at an agonisingly slow but teasing pace, "here?"

Alessia whines at your words, nodding.

"Why are you nodding? I said to use your words." You repeated.

"You know what I want." Alessia moaned out.

You huffed but slowly slipped her undies off, watching as the wet material stuck to her pussy before sliding off completely. Moving yourself down, placing your head between her thighs.

You kissed Alessia’s clit, causing an erotic moan to leap from her swollen lips. Your tongue worked its usual magic; sucking, kissing, rolling- Alessia’s eyes began to water, the feeling of you inside her causing her build up to come much faster than usual.

The way you moved had her crying out into the air, begging for you to let her cum.

"What do you want?" You asked, using your hands to hold down her hips.

"Please, y/n! Shit, please let me cum." Alessia moaned, fingers tugging at the roots of your hair.

When you began to feel her clenching around your tongue, you picked up your pace, only stopping to whisper breathy praises into her, using your thumb to stimulate her clit.

"Y/n, I'm not gonna last long,” Alessia managed to get out, hands gripping onto anything they could find.

“Cum for me.” You said, and it wasn’t long before Alessia’s body was convulsing around your head, her legs shaking as you rode her through her orgasm.

You began to place gentle kisses on her clit but Alessia pushed you away, squirming as she tried to come down from her high.

“No, stop, I'm too sensitive.” Alessia mumbled, trying to pull you up so you were face to face.

“Okay, okay. Lo siento.” You said, kissing your way back up to Alessia’s face.

You propped yourself up with one arm, the other, brushing strands of hair out of Alessia’s face. Her neck, chest and inner thighs were covered in dark hickies, and you knew she would kill you for that tomorrow.

You watched as her breathing came back to normal, the striker staring at you through hooded eyes. Taking in her appearance, her eyes were dilated, her cheeks coated pink and her lips were swollen. But to you, she couldn't look any more beautiful. Especially in this blissed out state.

You distributed kisses along her neck and collarbone, ever so slightly moving your hand down her side and back to her clit. Alessia’s body jolted at your touch, the striker letting out a loud whine at the feeling.

“One more, just one more, mi amour. That’s all.” You said, kissing just below her ear.

Alessia’s fingers thread through your hair once again as she feels you run a thumb vertically all the way over her slick folds. Her eyes slammed closed and her head thumped back into the pillow as you slid a finger inside her.

Pulling your face up, Alessia kept her hands on your cheeks as the two of you kissed fervently. Biting on your lower lip, the blonde pulled away slightly, just so your noses were touching.

"Fuck that feels so good." Alessia moaned.

You chuckled as she kissed you, trying to conceal her moan when you added a second finger. Bucking her hips up into your hand, Alessia’s breathing quickly picked up in pace as the stimulation became greater.

A ripple of pleasure soared through Alessia’s body, making her tilt her head further back into the pillow. You curled your fingers and they hit a spot causing Alessia to elicit a loud and uncontrollable moan. You pulled them out and repeated the action again, continuously getting the same reaction.

Her moans continued to get louder and louder at the feeling of you and with every curl of your fingers Alessia thrusted her hips forward to meet you. Alessia felt incredible and the added sensation of your palm pressing against her clit was heavenly, causing her stomach muscles to contract and her legs begin to shake.

Her breaths began to become more uneven and shaky with each passing second. Her muscles tightening around your fingers as you push them into her over and over again. Moans and curse words tumbled from her lips as she was begging you not to stop.

One hand gripped your shoulder and her fingernails dug harshly into your back through your top whilst the other gripped the bed sheet beside her.

“Come on beautiful, cum for me.” You mumbled into her neck, nipping harshly against her pulse point.

Your encouragement seemed to be the only thing she needed to tip her over the edge as with a final curl of your fingers and a firm press of your thumb against her clit, she arched her back off the bed with her eyes screwed shut and her body shuddered as her orgasm washed over her.

“You okay?” You questioned, looking down at Alessia’s blissed out state.

“Yeah, just calming down.”

“Let me go get you some water.” You said, moving to get off her.

“No,” Alessia said quickly, reaching a hand out to grab yours, “just stay with me for a little bit.”

You gave her a small smile, moving to lay beside her. Once you were in a comfortable position, Alessia soon cuddled up into your side.

“M’sorry for lashing out earlier.” Alessia mumbled into your shoulder, her fingers playing with the hem of your top.

“It’s okay. But for next time d’you think we can talk it through? Instead of having sex to work things out?”

“Yeah, and I'm sorry I didn't mean it.”

“It’s okay, don’t worry.” You smiled softly, gently massaging her scalp. “Get some rest. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

“You sure?”

“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”

[gremlinmodetweeker]

To Market to Market, to Buy A Fat Hog

Okay so this one made me really sad guys. Yes this is more alpha König and omega reader. This one actually made me feel really bad for König. I promise you it will get better! I do!!! I keep saying it because I really do mean it!!! AHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!

Anyways, in this part, König sends you out to market to pick up groceries, and you find a cute alpha who actually seems to like you. Meanwhile, König struggles with appearances and his feelings.

Anyways!

TW: near infidelity (does not actually happen but comes close to a kiss), König feeling very sad and conflicted

Wordcount: 3.8K words (about 9 pages in google docs guys this is big)

Art from this post

Story Below the Cut

To Market to Market, to Buy A Fat Hog

As it turned out, cooking for König was no joke. He was an alpha, so it wasn't a surprise to figure out that the man liked to eat, but what you didn’t realize was that he was picky about it to boot. He was so picky that you’d had to resort to finding your own transportation to go down to the grocery store to find more ingredients.

“What are you you doing?”

You turned around to see König standing behind you in the front hall, posed somewhere between the stairs and the landing.

“We’re out of tomatoes,” you replied, “I need to go to the store to get some more.”

“Why do you need tomatoes?” König asked.

“To make the ratatouille that you wanted so badly,” you explained as you sat on a wooden bench to put on your shoes, “you asked for it last night, remember?”

König nodded, “You’re right, I’m sorry. I forgot about that.”

“Didn’t you say you were looking forward to this?” you raised an eyebrow at him.

“I’ve been looking forward to the whole week,” König replied with a smirk.

“That’s just great,” you sighed as you brought yourself up to your feet.

“You know it’s going to rain out there, right?” König asked curiously.

“Oh,” you reached down to pick up an umbrella, "thanks.”

König watched as you fumbled with your keys before he asked, “So you’re going out like that?”

You looked over your shoulder at him, “Is there something wrong with how I look?”

König shook his head, “No, no not like that. I’m just wondering if… Well, maybe you should wear something a bit nicer?”

“Why?’ you scoffed, “are you worried about your ‘image’ again?”

König said nothing, letting you fill in the blanks for him.

“Alright,” you rolled your eyes before brushing by him to head back upstairs, “then tell me what to wear.”

“Something nicer,” was all the clarification König gave you before heading off to the backyard. To do what, you didn’t particularly care enough to think about.

Once you were upstairs in your bathroom, you stared at yourself in the mirror. Maybe König did have a point; you looked like you’d been hit with a truck that morning. The bags under your eyes were deep and heavy, and your hoodie had stains all over the bottom and along the cuffs of your sleeves. If you sat on a corner and held out a cup, you’d probably be able to make up your entire grocery bill in an afternoon. What a miserable state you were in!

You decided that what you were looking at was not up to snuff, not for you at least. Evidently not for König either, but that wasn’t the point.

With a few brushes of powder and a nice new set of clothes, you were able to face your reflection with a smile. It was a hollow, fragile smile, but it was a smile nonetheless. You tried to focus on the victories, no matter how pyrrhic they felt.

You sashayed back down the stairs with a self confident grin only to be faced with the man who sent you upstairs in the first place.

His icy eyes were wide, glancing around frantically before settling them on his feet.

“Is this good enough?” you asked.

He didn’t say a word, just nodded quickly. You figured that was about as much flattery as you’d get out of him on a good day.

“What store are you going to?” König asked in a quiet voice.

“To the big one,” you replied, “you know, the one down the road.”

König set his lips into a line, then asked, “Why don’t you go to the farmer’s market? It's a Saturday. They should be open today.”

“How would I get there?” you asked.

König dug his hands through his wallet and pulled out a blue and green card, “This is for the bus. You know how to use the GPS on your phone, right?”

You nodded.

“Just look up farmer’s market on the app,” König offered, “it should get you there quickly.”

“But what about money?” you asked.

“Ach,” König hissed as he pulled his wallet from his jeans again, “take this. It should be enough for the groceries and then some for yourself.”

“Are you suggesting I get myself something nice?” you smirked dryly at the irony.

König paused to tilt his head so he could look you in the eyes, “Maybe. You can keep the bus card, too. You’ll need it more than me.”

“Is there enough money on it?” you asked.

“It’s synced to my card,” König replied, “it’ll charge me automatically. Don’t worry about loading it.”

You tucked the card into your own wallet, thinner than his by a landslide. With all your bearings checked, you patted down your dress and gave König an award-winning smile.

“I’ll be back soon,” you grinned.

“Text me when you’re coming home,” König told you as he turned to retreat into the home, “and when you get there. And when-" he clenched his jaw, "just keep me updated, bitte.”

You didn’t say a word, instead stepping through the door and slipping outside. You pulled out your phone and punched in König’s suggestion to find what you expected to be the farmer’s market. You didn’t stop to see if König was waving you goodbye from the window, instead marching to the nearest bus stop to get started on your route.

The bus wasn’t particularly crowded, but there was a beta male in rut that had evidently forgotten to take his pills this morning, making the entire bus reek of oceanic vinegar. He’d obviously tried to hide it with extra scent blocker deodorant, but he was failing miserably. Most of the others on the bus shot the poor fellow cruel looks, to which he withered in on himself. It wouldn’t surprise you if he’d been sent home from work to get himself some pills to stop stinking up the office.

Thankfully, aside from the beta male, there weren’t any great upsets along the way. The walk to the market was thankfully brief, though a drizzle started and you had to put up your polka dotted umbrella as a shield against the weathers. You’d spent too much time perfecting your lipstick to have it smudged by a few drops of rain. Just once, you wanted to feel like you looked nice. It wasn’t like König did anything to help you in that regard. Rather, you felt that when you were around him, you were about as attractive as plain cardboard or white wallpaper. Sometimes, he wouldn’t even let himself look at you, which though while a regular occurrence, still smacked of obstinate rudeness that cut you like a thousand papercuts. Each nervous glance away was another slit upon you. At this point, you were surprised your heart was still beating in its place in your chest.

You skulked through the market in a search for ingredients. You didn’t really need to go out today, but you wanted a break from the silence of the home. After spending so much time in the silence, the hustle and bustle of the market jostled you to and fro with the crowds. You were twirled around this way and that before you were able to stumble you way towards a decent-enough looking stall filled to the brim with bright red fruits.

Only once you were too close to be ignored did you realize that the stall was advertising cider and vinegar, made fresh from the very same apples that had drawn you in.

“Hey!” a tall alpha stepped up to greet you, “see anything you like?”

You, you wanted to say but you held your tongue. Instead, you looked over the merchandise before picking up a small bottle.

“Um, how much is this?” you asked as you passed over the cider.

“Oh this is on sale, actually,” the alpha laughed, exposing his bright white canines, “it’s just for today though.”

“Only today?” you parroted.

“Only for today,” the alpha agreed before screwing you with a strange look, “say, where’s your collar?”

You blinked as you reached up to your neck.

“Oh, I must have forgotten it at home,” you admitted shyly, ashamed you’d forgotten such an important piece of protection for yourself.

“How long have you been here?” the alpha frowned.

“Not long,” you said as you fingered the empty air around your neck, “I must’ve forgotten it when I went out this morning.”

“Well it’s not safe for an unclaimed omega to go around without a collar,” the alpha hummed before holding up a hand, “just wait right there. I’m gonna go talk to someone.”

You nodded and let the man hurry off to talk to an alpha woman who worked the other side of the stall. She glanced over at you with a quick smile before looking back at her coworker, letting him return back to you with a comment accompanied by a nod of her head.

The alpha stepped back from behind the stall to stand by your side, awkwardly squeezing into the space beside you as carefully as he could to avoid actively pressing in on your inner bubble.

“So, I talked to my boss, and she said it’s okay if I take a break and help you around the market,” the alpha smiled timidly, “it’s just… I’m worried somebody might hurt you.”

“Wait, really?” you blinked owlishly as you looked up at the man.

“I mean it’s not safe to be without a collar,” the alpha insisted, “so it only makes sense that I watch over you. I, uh, I have a lot of omega friends and they tell me it’s nice to have someone around to keep them safe.”

“Oh, um, thanks,” you felt a bit fuzzy as you smiled at the messy-haired brunette, “but you don’t have to if it’s too much-”

“It’s nothing,” the alpha interjected before wincing, “sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt it’s just, you know, I’d hate to let you go and have you get hurt or-”

“No I get it,” you helped the poor man out, “I just didn’t want to pull you away from work and…”

You both smiled fondly at each other. Maybe it was something about not being used to an alpha’s affection, but the man’s brown eyes were warm like honey and tea as he took you in. You were suddenly grateful for König insisting that you wear something nice. Wait, König!

“Oh, um, I’m sorry but I should probably just call my alpha to come get me,” you cringed at the thought of having to phone up that miserable lout to drag you back into that horrible home.

“Wait, your alpha let you out like this?” the alpha frowned, almost looking crestfallen, “that’s weird.”

“Well,” you sighed, “we’re in a weird relationship. I’m supposed to be his mate or whatever, but I just… He’s not really in it.”

“Oh you got matched?” the alpha perked up, “I had a few friends in the matching program.”

“You did?” you asked.

“Yeah! They’re all like, ‘Shaun you really gotta sign up for this matching program’ way back in high school, but now they’re all sad and miserable with their matches,” the man laughed before catching himself, “my name’s Shaun, by the way! Sorry about that, I forgot to introduce myself. What’s your name?”

You gave your name with a laugh, “I guess I forgot to introduce myself too!”

“Makes the two of us, I guess,” Shaun chuckled, turning with you to start walking the aisles with you, “so, what’re you here for anyways?”

“Just a few veggies and stuff,” you replied, “my alpha wants me to cook for him.”

“So he let you out in public but expects you to be a perfect little omega for him?” Shaun scoffed, “sounds like a great guy for sure.”

“Well,” you bit your lip, “it’s more complicated than that. See, I really wanted him to just, you know, be my partner but he wasn’t too keen on it. So I was thinking that maybe if I made him jealous, maybe he’d be more interested or something?”

“And how did that go?” Shaun chuckled.

“Well, he called me out pretty quickly and then told me I could make it up to him by cooking for him,” you explained, “so I guess I really got myself in this mess.”

“But you only did it because he wasn’t paying any attention to you?” Shaun asked, helping you navigate around a tight bend by using his body as a battering ram through the crowd.

You blushed furiously, “I mean, is it too much to ask? I really thought the matching system would work, but… Well…”

“Usually it works,” Shaun offered, “but not always,” he helped you step out of the way of a passing baby stroller, “some people say it takes a couple of years to work, but I just think it’s a bit overrated.”

“So you never signed up?” you asked.

“Nah, it’s not like people would really want me, anyways,” Shaun admitted, “I’m an alpha O with a degree in agriculture working at a small farm. I don’t make much, and not many people are into alpha Os.”

“Really?” you asked curiously, “why not?”

“Not as big as alpha Bs and not as stable as beta As,” Shaun explained, “but whatever. I bet you get it as an omega.”

“Omega O, actually,” you laughed when Shaun winced, “yeah, it’s not always fun. But hey, I get by.”

“So I’m guessing you’re matched with an alpha A?” Shaun cringed.

“Yeah! I’m told the matching system puts alpha As and omega Os together for some reason?” you shook your head, “it’s crazy to me.”

“Absolutely,” Shaun agreed, “oh look! You said you needed veggies, right? My friend runs that stand over there!”

Shaun pointed somewhere but the crowd obscured your vision. So thus you pushed forth behind him before coming into a small clearing.

“Shaun! Long time no see!” a tall beta woman leaned on the wood stand.

“Laura, we literally just talked two hours ago,” Shaun rolled his eyes before standing to the side, “I’m just here because this little omega over here forgot her collar back home. But yeah, you wanted to get some things, right?”

After a bit of social chit-chat, you left with a couple of baskets brimming with fresh produce. Included i the bundle was a jar of fresh tomato paste and a bottle of olive oil, courtesy of the Italian pasta maker in the stand beside you. The beta man running the store had been more than glad to help you out when he overheard you explaining your situation with König, though he had tried to make you take a particularly spicy sausage to try and ‘get back at the swine’ but you’d had to turn him down.

After touring the market once more, you sat down at a bench with a paper bag of cinnamon sugar doughnuts between you and Shaun.

“Thanks for helping me around here,” you said before taking another bite of the fresh-baked treat, “wow these are so good. You were totally right about these.”

“Those old ladies know what they’re talking about,” Shaun agreed as he took another doughnut, “but yeah, don’t worry about it. I’m just happy you’re safe and all that.”

“It’s nice to meet an alpha that’s not a major dickface,” you grinned, wiping the sticky sugar away from your fingers.

“Most alphas are pretty chill actually,” Shaun wrapped his sticky fingers together, “I mean, we have to take those emotional regulation classes all the way from grade one until we graduate. Most of us learn how to chill out a bit.”

“So that’s why you’re so nice?” you asked cheekily.

“I mean, I like to think I’ve always been pretty cool,” Shaun tossed you a sly grin, “just don’t tell Laura that. She thinks I’m weird.”

“And why’s that?” you kicked your feet beneath you on the bench.

“Oh, I dunno, because I like comics? Or maybe it’s ‘cause I can quote entire movies in one go,” Shaun laughed, “but I think that just makes me cooler.”

“You might be on to something,” you agreed before you heard a small ping! came from your pocket, “one sec I just need to check something,” you said as you pulled it out to check your notifications. König. “Shit,” you hissed, “it’s König.”

“König? Is that foreign?” Shaun asked.

“One sec I just gotta text him back…”

Hello? Is everything alright? You haven’t texted me in a while and I want to make sure you’re safe.

You hissed and typed out a quick reply before hitting ‘send’ and pocketing your phone again.

“Is this ‘König’ guy your alpha?” Shaun asked, looking at you with a melancholic expression.

“Yeah,” you admitted, “he was just checking if I was okay.”

“Really?” Shaun snorted, “from the way you put it, it didn’t sound like he cared about you at all.”

“Well he doesn’t,” you sighed, “but he has to keep up ‘appearances’ all the time.”

Shaun groaned, “That sounds fucking awful.”

“It can be,” you agreed, “but sometimes… Sometimes I wonder if maybe he does care.”

“If he did, he wouldn’t let you out of the house without a collar,” Shaun reasoned with you.

You hummed, looking down at your sugar-dusted fingers ass they fiddled among each other. You could feel the granules of sugar melting into a sticky paste against your skin, sticking with each brush of your hands against each other.

“It would be nice if my alpha cared about me,” you sighed.

“Well, why do you need him to care about you?” Shaun asked, “and anyways, can’t you break the match?”

“Omegas can’t break matches,” you informed him dutifully, “only alphas and betas have the right to break matches.”

Shaun slumped in his seat.

“Oh…”

“It’s stupid,” you spat.

“It’s sad ‘cause like…” Shaun shrugged awkwardly, “you seem really cool.”

“Do I?” you laughed, “because I’m not.”

“People say I’m not cool either,” Shaun smiled, “so I guess we’d work pretty well together.”

You turned slightly to look at him from the corner of your eyes. He wasn’t looking at you, instead focussing on his own hands, coated just like yours were. His shaggy hair hung low over his face, giving him an innocently youthful expression. He seemed so sweet, so different from the alpha that kept you caged in his home…

“We would,” you agreed, carefully reaching your hand out to his.

He took it carefully, almost afraid to respond to your touch.

“Your alpha wouldn’t like this, would he,” Shaun turned to look at you, his eyes almost golden in the sunlight.

“He wouldn’t,” you agreed, “but I don’t really care.”

You leaned in close, but just as you closed your eyes, your phone rang.

You snapped back to attention and wrenched it out of your pocket. It was König. You watched it ring once, twice, then tucked it back into your pocket.

“I don’t really care what he thinks,” you huffed.

“So, um, I guess you gotta go home now?” Shaun laughed, the tension between you thoroughly shattered.

“I guess,” you sighed before perking up briefly, “can I get your number? We can still talk and stuff. I’ve only just moved here, so it would be nice to know someone locally.”

“Sure, uh, just hand it over,” Shaun took your phone from you, trying to suck the sugar off his fingers before typing away and handing it back to you, “sorry about all the, uh, sugar and stuff.”

“Don’t worry about it,” you tucked your phone back into your pocket before typing your number into his and giving it back to him, “but yeah, it was great meeting you Shaun.”

“It was great to meet you too,” Shaun grinned.

“Well,” you looked at the bus stop across the street, “I guess I gotta go now.”

“Call me when you get home, yeah?” Shaun asked as you walked off.

“I will!” you promised and turned back to the bus.

“Where were you?” König hounded you as soon as you stepped through the door.

“I was out at the market,” you replied as you hauled the groceries into the kitchen.

“Why didn’t you text me?” König asked, drumming his fingers against the countertop nervously.

“I forgot,” you said as you put away a bag of carrots, “it happens.”

“But you…” König squinted and frowned, “where’s your collar? Did you already take it off?”

“I forgot to take it with me,” you replied quickly as you whirled around to put away a bunch of tomatoes.

You turned back to the counter but slammed into König’s chest. You stumbled back to glare up at him, but his worried face caught you off guard.

“Were you okay?” König asked, placing his palms on your shoulders, “nobody hurt you, did they? How could you forget your collar? You need to take care of yourself, ja?”

“I was fine,” you pushed back from him coldly.

König stepped to the side to let you carry on putting away the produce, shrinking in on himself awkwardly.

“Are you sure?” König asked nervously, “you smell… Different.”

“Somebody helped me around,” you explained easily as you turned away. When you turned back, König’s face had become downright stormy.

“Who helped you,” König’s voice was flat and cold like an iron sword.

“Some guy at a stall,” you tried to shake off the nerves that crawled up your back.

“An alpha?” König stepped in close.

You stopped what you were doing to look back at König closely. He had leaned in close, almost menacing in how he now crowded your form.

“Maybe?” you shrugged, “I didn’t really pay attention.”

König stopped you from turning away and leaned in close. Before you could say anything, he rubbed his neck against yours quickly, once on each side. He stepped back, but kept his grip on your shoulders.

“Better,” he said quietly.

“What’s wrong with you?” you spat.

König watched you carefully, taking in how you puffed up with frustration in his hold. A part of him seemed to soften as he took in your form.

“We need to keep up appearances,” König replied dryly.

“That’s bullshit,” you scoffed.

König ducked his head, but the grip on your shoulders tightened. He grimaced, then turned back and tucked you into his chest.

“Appearances matter,” his voice cracked slightly, but you didn’t mention it.

Instead, when you stepped back you trailed a hand on his chest, “Why do you care so much?”

“Appearances,” König choked out.

“That’s not why you care,” you tried to let your hand fall on his cheek but he was quick to duck away.

“It’s all that matters,” König’s voice was faint as he left the room, “it’s what keeps us safe.”

You watched him leave the room quietly. You felt your phone buzz in your pocket, but you weren’t as eager to pick up the phone this time.

AU Masterlist

[zyonsay]

Wildfire, Chapter Two MV1

Fem aligned people may read but not f3tishize my work!!

Summary: You almost scored a win, but Max wouldn't let that happen. The McLaren boys want to take your mind off of things!

Warnings: Swearing, Max is a bit of an asshole,Reader has anger issues, Slight Violence, Alcohol, Ki ki ki rah sweat sweat

Now playing: 'Monaco' by Bad Bunny

AN: This was a STRAIN! School is beating my ass recently and it's really difficult for me to get anything done BUT i really want to write this fic!

(Here is the previous chapter)

(Here is the next chapter)

The race season was in full swing, and you’d been doing well. Max had, as per usual, always taken the victory, but most of the time you were on the podium next to him. You were a great new asset to Red bull, and many of the fans seemed to like you. You started discovering more and more memes about you on Instagram and Twitter that would make you chuckle. (Or X? Man idk)

People saw you as a two-sided coin, since your charismatic, silly moments were accompanied by boiling, blood red rage when something messes up the race. Numerous fans compared you to Max when he first entered F1, calling you a “Smaller version of Mad Max.”

You guys’ interactions felt like witnessing two proud stags smash their antlers against each other. No full-on fights have ensued yet, but the tense feeling between you two can be felt by everyone from miles away. It was like the calm before a storm, electric energy surging through the air, waiting to strike when things get any more heated.

Your sassy, provocative nature could bring his blood to a boil easily, often causing him to glare at you from far away or leave some snarky remarks while passing by. This dynamic wasn’t optimal for Redbull, having two drivers who clash off the grid might also clash on the grid. As long as the situation wouldn’t get worse, they’d let you two entertain the fans bit more, but Christian kept a close eye on both you and Max.

Usually your bickering was harmless,

But today you could’ve strangled him right then and there in the paddock after the race. Luckily Horner got a hold of you and dragged you away, you felt like an angry dog being put on a chain outside the house by its owner.

What happened a few minutes before angered you deeply. Max profoundly refused to let you pass him, even if you had to brake to not crash into the rear end of his car. You could’ve had the first place if it weren’t for him blocking your way. Saying you were enraged was a pathetic understatement. You were steaming with rage and wanted to smash his head against a wall.

You, Lando and Oscar were strolling towards an Ice cream truck that Oscar had found on google maps. The race weekend was over but many of the drivers decided to stay a bit longer in the beautiful city. Tough it was extremely hot, which was the reason why Oscar and Lando wanted to go for Ice cream, what they didn’t tell you tough is that they wanted to distract you from your conflict with Max.

After paying for your Ice cream, you three made your way to a bench, sitting down and enjoying your refreshments. You chose pistachio ice cream, savoring the sweet, nutty taste. “Have y’all heard about the party tonight?” Lando glanced at the buildings nearby, enjoying the fancy exterior, thinking about snapping a pic for his .jpg account. “I mean, we all know that there will be one, but I didn’t catch any specifics.” Lando now looked at you and Oscar. “Danny told me about it, it’s in the grand Casino at eleven O’ Clock. I really want to go, but I wanted to drag you both with me. Are y’all coming?” He mustered up his best puppy eyes and began pouting. A hearty laugh escaped you, almost causing you to drop your ice cream. “Sure dude! I can’t wait to have some fun.” Oscar grinned, agreeing with what you said. You guys spent some more time shopping and checking out some must-see sights of the city. Lando bought Oscar a little Koala plushie with sunglasses calling it "Oscahs Doppelgänger.” You really liked hanging out with the two McLaren boys, spending time with them meant lots of joking and messing around.

“Hurry the fuck up Y/N, its almost eleven!” Landos voice rang over his obnoxious banging on the door. You rolled your eyes and checked your outfit one more time in the mirror before heading out. You were greeted with a friendly smile from Oscar and Lando who looks like he’ll bounce around the walls like a gummy ball. He could’ve well exploded on the spot with excitement. He and Piastri were both a tiny bit older than you, but Lando was still a kid at heart.

Lando, Oscar and you walked through the city, heading straight for the big, fancy Casino. Even from far away you spotted a familiar, smiley face. “Oi! Danny!” You waved at him, gaining his attention. He was smiling broadly as usual, walking up to your little group. “Hey guys! Looks like Lando managed to drag you along, eh?” He was obviously wearing one of his flash banging party shirts, it wouldn’t be Daniel Ricciardo if he wasn’t wearing something obnoxious, right?

The four of you chitchatted for a while, when Oscar asked: “Were you waiting for someone?” Daniel looked down at his wristwatch; it was already five past eleven. “I was actually. Me and Max wanted to meet up at eleven. Don’t know where he is, maybe he already went inside.” He shrugged, glancing you way as he noticed you tensing up at the sound of the Dutchman’s name. You definitely haven’t forgotten the race earlier that day. The guys stayed quiet for a few moments as the chilly night air blew around your legs, contrasting with the warm weather during the day. Lando was the first to break the silence. “Can we finally go in?”

Once you entered the gigantic building, colorful lights and the smell of overly expensive alcohol flooded your senses. A few familiar faces were dancing, drinking, and laughing, but there were also many you didn’t know. Daniel led the group towards the bar, buying you all a round of shots. “Gotta start the night the right way!”, he laughed before downing the burning liquid. The vodka fueled the sparks in your guts and turned them into a fire. You were going to have fun tonight.

Suddenly a loud voice appeared behind you. “Hey Danny!” You froze for a second before turning around and facing the man you’ve been wanting to murder since this morning. “Oi, Max! Thought I’d never see you!” Daniel abandoned the bar stool to pat Max on the back. Oscar, who was sitting next to you, turned in your direction and whispered. “We don’t have to hang around with him. Let’s just leave- “, you interrupted him, “No. Its ok.” You were too busy glaring at Max to notice Oscars worried expression, not that he thought you’d attack Verstappen out of nowhere, but he was concerned that a teasing comment from Max was enough for you to snap. As he later would find out, it was.

Max didn’t pay any attention to you, obviously not feeling as irritated as you were. The casino was warm from the sheer number of people inside, the loud music mixed with laughing and chatting. Daniel was going on about some experience he had the day before while exploring the city. You were halfheartedly listening to your friends rambling while you were observing your friends’ mimics. Your eyes landed on your fellow Redbull driver. He was listening carefully, asking a question every now and then. He then glanced at you quickly, catching you looking at him. Max then quickly looked away again.

After a while, Lando pulled you away from the bar and towards the dance floor. He was definitely drunk by now and was all giggly and happy. “C’monnnn, dance with me!”, Lando slurred.

It must’ve already been a few hours since you arrived at the Casino, but time flew by so fast. Oscar stated that he was getting tired and wanted to go home in the next hour or so, while Lando was as lively as ever and could go the whole night. You agreed with Oscar though, since you were tired and had an appointed Press conference for tomorrow. Daniel and Max wanted to stay a little longer but agreed to accompany you outside to say goodbye. Once outside, a cold shiver ran down your spine. The city was illuminated by bright lights and a howling wind was brushing through its streets. Daniel stopped, facing the rest of the group.

“We definitely gotta go out together more often!” Lando nodded enthusiastically, glancing your way as if inviting you to go out with him more often.

“Yeah, once Y/N doesn’t hold a grudge against me, I saw those glares.” Max laughed, but you couldn’t help but judgingly glance at him. His face was red and his posture a bit wobbly.

“You’re the one complaining about me during Interviews.” The venom in your voice was very apparent, you made no effort to hide your disdain. Max looked hesitant for a second before his expression hardened. Daniel seemed to feel awkward, not exactly knowing how to deal with you two firecrackers. Max focused his eyes on your face, not wincing under your glare. “And you were the one crying around about me winning this morning?”, he laughed again, seeking eye contact with the others as if to justify his words. The McLarens Aussie next to you looked deeply worried, as If he already suspected what happened next.

The blood in your veins began boiling, you could literally feel it. A heavy push from your side caused Max to stumble back. “Don’t fucking go there you dick. You just couldn’t handle me winning, right?” Your fellow Redbull driver was now shaken awake, glaring at you with a bitter look on his face. “Don’t get mad at me because you lost, fucking Dickhead.”

You were SO ready to ruin his stupid face with a good punch.

…but before you could actually get violent a certain Honey badger stepped in. “Lads, calm your tits! I think it’s best if we all go to our hotel rooms now.” Oscar was holding you back, worrying what would happen if he’d let go of the raging man in his arms. The other McLaren boy was standing next to you guys, unsure what to do. Daniel gave Max a heavy pat on the shoulder and gave him a serious look. “Let’s go get some sleep, buddy.” Max’s eyes never left yours, like a hunter stalking its prey.

But you won’t budge under him.

[odetojupiter]

i’ve been talking a lot about numbers and symbolism lately but i thought for a sec id just address one thing ive not seen anyone mention: the general symbolic meanings of foxes versus ravens.

foxes tend to represent cunning, intelligence, and adaptability. this is obviously so perfect for the foxes because their small team status means a lot of the time they have to outsmart their opponents because otherwise they’ll burn out before the end of the match: e.g. neil’s methods of evading his marks, allison and andrew side stepping the ball when they knew it wouldn’t make the goal, renee switching positions and andrew playing full games, neil switching to backliner in the championships game, kevin switching to his left hand with no warning after playing right handed all year. this demonstrates adaptability (after losing seth and then andrew missing a few months), cunning (ways of evading or deceiving opponents), and intelligence, (swapping neil to defence to run riko ragged). in lots of folklore, foxes use wit to outsmart and beat their opponents, which we see in the books a lot.

ravens on the other hand, are commonly seen as an omen of death: more specifically than that though, they represent loss (though not in all cultures, some see ravens as a sign of good fortune). but considering the edgar allan ravens are explicitly named after edgar allan poe’s poem the raven, it’s obvious the symbol of the raven leans into the idea of loss rather than good fortune in the series. which is why it’s ironic that the ravens are the undefeated team in the league, but considering this representation of ravens, their defeat at the hands of the cunning and adaptable foxes appears almost foreshadowed. (which is funny, because is some cultures ravens symbolise prophecy and foresight, so tie that in with the theme of loss and suddenly riko probably should’ve seen his defeat coming (that’s a joke)

AND WAIT i offhandedly decided to search whether seeing dead foxes has a symbolic meaning and this is what google told me (summarising across several sources): seeing a dead fox is a sign of a cycle of your life ending, it represents future growth and transformation. coming a cross a dead fox can also be a sign of victory and triumph, a sign that you have overcome something using your intelligence and that hardwork is about to pay off.

so, thinking back to what neil says that encourages the ravens/riko/raven fans to leave a dead fox in andrew’s car - it’s when neil tells the reporters that riko flew out to watch them play because he knows they have a chance of winning. he says, ‘he knows we have a chance. he just hasn’t figured out yet that we’re going to win the next time we meet’.

and then they see the fox. a symbol of growth, change, triumph over hardships and victory. and they do win the next time they meet.

(i obviously don’t believe the dead fox symbolism was intentional because the main purpose of it was a threat from the ravens - one dead fox meet another. but i just think it’s so cool that this widely accepted symbolic meaning fits so well into the narrative it almost seems purposeful. especially when, in chinese folklore, foxes are said to have ties with the afterlife, which undermines the threat entirely. the fox might be dead but you can’t kill the afterlife.)

[lxmelle]

Exploring the symbolism of the Tsubaki / Camellia and Gojo Satoru

Cover of vol. 26 shows us the beautiful image of Gojo on a snowy day; his breath tints white - he is surrounded by what we can interpret as Camellias in full bloom, location unknown, but we surmise it is sometime between December - March (depending on source of information - usually late winter to early spring) where they tend to flower despite the cold.

More under the cut. Please be warned: This post is littered with information, and you may interpret it freely, however you wish.

Just be mindful that I almost always have a Satosugu lens is on. Headcannon and overall reaching is all on me!

The setting is simple but poetic. It’s snowing and Gojo is standing looking at us. It’s blue all around him; a crisp winter’s day. Gojo’s birthday reflects the heaviest snowfall (refer to character birthday chart below), so in addition to flower symbolism is potentially the symbolism of dates. We know Gege is deliberate like that. Is this headcannon? You can decide!

The plant looks really beautiful amidst the snowfall. Their leaves are evergreen and lush, so looking even at the foliage, the plant seemingly being taller than Gojo as painted by Gege, it would appear to be more like the Camellia than Peonies. Very much like what tends be be planted at a Shinto / Buddhist temple gardens.

And what does it mean then? Let’s keep going:

Those pictures above are the red varieties, but they can appear very different - coming in different colours and the way the petals are arranged, colour of the middle, etc. varies. Upon closer inspection, we see two types pictured on the cover.

Behind Gojo’s head seems to be a flower in a lighter shade of pink, and akin to a lotus camellia. I’d say it’s stylistic and has symbolic intentions, and you can google to look into what others have to say about it. Generally, it’s around being enlightened, freedom and purity. All fitting with Gojo’s life (his fate at birth) and death.

Before I continue, I must address the question: is it possibly any other type of flower? Well, sure. You’re welcome to interpret it that way, it’s a drawing after all. However, based on how tall the plant is, the thickness of the branches the leaves are attached to, as well as the blossoms, it seems more like a Camellia plant to me.

Moreover, I cannot ignore the inference from the conversation we see him have with Nanami in chapter 236 - that his death was fitting, and his reflections of it were considered “old fashioned” like a commanding officer’s (bushou) view of a swift and noble death. When we consider the symbolism of the flower and the fact that it is a late-winter blooming plant... it fits.

It also fits in with Gojo’s beliefs in his conversation with Megumi when he was alive. To die victoriously because he gave it his all, in an individual sport, and also died thinking he had an ace up his sleeve.

Just to add some of my interpretation in here: He died trying to reach Megumi as well as fulfilling his ideals, despite not winning. He was satisfied.

As in my previous post on ch. 236 (see: https://www.tumblr.com/lxmelle/745848828838756352/thoughtsponderingsmusings-on-ch-236-about-gojo I feel that each expression drawn was a decision made, and can sometimes be absolutely deliberate in how it tries to convey something - so, it can be very telling.

Gege is a huge fan of using repetition to foreshadow something or draw connections to emphasise a point or relationships.

I don’t think it’s headcanon when we know as a reader that gojo is an unreliable narrator. We would be doing him a disservice. He can “whale on Megumi” because he has killed his best friend before. It is but "fighting talk".

He could do it, but with difficulty, as we know it was horrific for Gojo to have done to Geto and he put it off for as long as he could, nevermind the expense to human lives (although I doubt Geto killed indiscriminately too much as it’d draw too much attention - he probably hunted curses using those weekly “Wednesday special” shows Gege talked about in the character book as well as within his temple through visitors).

We see Gojo’s eyebrow furrow when he noticed Megumi had been taken over by Sukuna upon his release from prison realm. In battle, he also scans Sukuna for Megumi’s soul.

I digress. Sorry.

Gojo did fight with everything he had - every ounce of power - forcing his brain into overdrive… in vol 26, there are images gege drew to illustrate just how overextended he was with a bleeding brain.

Gojo absolutely surpassed his ancestors and achieved so many unprecedented things within that one battle - and died in a sudden world slash, slicing through him. It wasn't a fair fight to begin with, we know that. Sukuna used Megumi to tank UV hits and had a 3v1 setup going.

We should all be proud of his performance. He put himself on the line; and even Sukuna was impressed. He had an ace up his sleeve but didn't sacrifice himself - he burned brightest and it was his all.

Sukuna can have the title because he's practically sold his whole entire self to be the embodiment of a curse. Gojo died to a calamity. A calamity with decades of fighting experience, whereas Gojo was a mere baby compared to him, and yet already achieved so much, and his legacy will continue.

The suddenness of his passing shocked us all. This is also symbolic of the Camellia, where in the negative, it can imply a sudden death, by beheading. In the positive, it means unity - a love tied together by the way the flower falls whole.

Gojo... was killed in that way. Being somewhat beheaded. Bisected. The image above is from vol 26. Gojo died a noble death fighting with his all, in battle.

Nevertheless, one can imagine Gojo seems to have risen in spirit on this snowy day as his body has been left behind. He is smiling at... the reader, the others left living, or... at Geto? More on the latter later, as it'll enter headcanon and shipping territory.

So if it indeed is a Camellia, there were different meanings for the Camellia based on its colour.

Different counties have different meanings for the blossom, but some things appear universal. Just some examples of cultural differences. Western interpretations are more around love as a theme. Since jjk is from Japan, I’ve included these to offer a more regional and diverse interpretation for this piece of writing:

Generally speaking, the Camellia plant is admired for its entirety: its evergreen and robust leaves are hardy, in addition to its gorgeous blossoms.

We know that Gege chose pink for some reason. Gojo also smiles somewhat alike his smile in death which is a little disturbing, but may be a bit like what Geto’s body did? Or, a symbol of him actually lucid dreaming at his death and the airport scene was not real (but Gege’s approach is a bit “mystical” for this interpretation- he brought Toji back to life after all, plus all the stuff about souls and touching it etc.)

Now we take a deeper dive into the symbolism of the flower. Mind you, depending on interpretation, I may be reaching, but I honestly did not make any of this up.

I think Hanakotoba is something that Gege has an interest in, alongside playing the long game and usage of foreshadowing, mythology, religion, and popular culture). He really is a clever writer, although I’m aware opinions vary as of late due to various reasons.

And Camellias...?

Outside of hanakotoba, culturally, the Camellia also bears a potentially ominous / inauspicious meaning. To expand further and echo what’s already been said above:

Plus, the Western interpretation is quite similar, isn’t it?

And Gege really, again, could have gone for a different colour and it would still be imbued with impressively deep meaning. Red, white, but for whatever reason, he opted for pink - longing. Is he longed for? Well: Yes! By us readers and his students. Does he long for anyone? Hrmmm… let’s look at the clues as we go along. *resists shipping mode*

Another source has this to add about what pink Camellia flowers are in flower language...

What about the history of the Camellia?

The camellia was named as a priest’s helper. Seriously you cannot make this up. I lol’ed at this. It HAS to be a coincidence right?

*resists shipping and reaching* ha ha!!

Moving on…

And what does religion have to say about the symbolism of the Camellia?

Ah yes , indeed very fitting and auspicious signs for our beloved Gojo. Freedom, new beginnings, a triumphant victory for his spiritual self.

Shintoism:

This, I find it intriguing how it can also explain how Gojo was amongst flowers on the cover, and then also at the airport. Like: where are you, really? If you want to read more, here is the link: https://justaboutjapan.com/what-happens-after-death-in-shinto-understanding-the-japanese-afterlife/

Certainly interesting ; I find it poignant and spiritual in interpretation of the world. Like the concept of continuing bonds in Grief work.

Make what you will of the information! I have no idea where the airport is or where they are headed (or if they even head out to the same place… I hope they do. I guess that’s what my fanfics are for, lol).

Now. That’s already quite a bit of information, right? But you know... it doesn’t stop there.

The Camellia represents the birth flower for Geto Suguru. (And yes I checked, it is nobody else’s).

Is it coincidental? Maybe?

Yesssss we are in Satosugu shipping territory! Take it with a pinch of salt. *shrug* I’m not really going to make any apologies for my insanity brainrot.

What about other flowers, if I were to stretch it a little and bring the lotus symbology into the picture? Referring back to chapter 236 and how Gojo himself reflected on being a creature with a line drawn, and the lotuses.

Ah, excuse me!! Chastity? Purity? Being far from the one he loves?! Stop right there, Gege!!! *slaps self* okay, I’m calm now.

Back onto Camellias. Turning to the West now, which has reached international shores for decades: The story, the Lady of Camille portrays two young people in a romance doomed, within a punishing culture, marked by longing, and separated by death. It is also not without controversy, as the woman was a prostitute, but the writer depicts her kindly, as if her redemption was due to her ability to love alone. Sounds familiar?

Again, I’m not making this up. This is the cover of the novel.

And some excerpts of the novel (you can google this as I have, if you wish) that you can be free to interpret based on your own understanding:

The image that comes to mind is their reunion on the school grounds in jjk 0 where they stare at each other and then Geto fakes this cheerful “long time no see, Satoru!” And Gojo is just icy, lol.

The above would seem to apply well to Gojo as well, for various reasons, namely how he lived his life, what he longed for, and his “enlightenment” where it gave birth to his supremacy and untouchability (distance, isolation) from others. Denoting him to almost being a “creature” due to being unable to relate to the limitations that plague sorcerer and humans.

It’s Gege’s favourite type of romance. His brief journey into BL had similar themes if I’m not mistaken. It may very well mean nothing too, of course. It is just information.

One of the sites I visited while researching Camellia’s in Japan, had referred to this novel and I was intrigued by why. To me it’s not reaching terribly far to find the doomed romance theme - it’s everywhere if you look for it.

But you know : to recognise it means that you equally recognise it is a kind of a romance. At the very least a form of love / connection.

Similarly, it’s only a breakup if they were ever an item of sorts.

And, Shoko was there but “would never love either of them”... inferring that love was the only exclusive thing between them that they alone shared, that she could not give to alleviate their loneliness.

Anyway, I’m a hopeless “satosugu kaisen” shipper and I admit it. Sorry if that’s not what you’re here for. It is nevertheless quite interesting to see what one can dig up; sometimes they’re highly interesting coincidences:

Like this one. It bloody has to be, right? Lol!

That’s it from me 😉 the rest is just indulgences:

Love the cover of vol 26 or hate it? Either way, it’s here to stay...

The Camellias spoke volumes (pun intended), in terms of symbolism for how he lived, what he shouldered, how he suffered, what he stood for, and fought for up till the very end. Honourable and honourably, even if there may be those who didn’t think so. We all fight for different reasons after all. It’s ok.

Our much-loved Gojo Satoru standing proud, smiling with his eyes, looking as soft as ever - with that fresh face, sporting his handsome smile (that borders on a smirk) playing on his lips, a little dimple appearing on his cheek. He looks self-assured, as if he were smiling a warm greeting, or imparting heartfelt farewell.

And I want to maybe interject here to return to a point about Gojo thinking about Geto when his breath tinged white one year ago.

In my previous post (purely indulgent)

I pointed out that gojo has been the only one who stylistically has been drawn with his breath tinting white, aside from uraume whose skills have something to do with ice. It seems to tie in with the death of Geto, which was just one year prior. And he was thinking about said person, in his conversation with Yuta.

It’s just a connection, nothing more and nothing less. And Gege didn’t have to, but Gojo was then shown to be reunited with Geto right upon his death. Parallel with emerging from prison realm and going to pseudo-Geto? It is also fitting that they die on the same day, one year apart, and Geto’s body that was inhabited by Kenjaku, was also released through Yuta and Takaba, not long after Gojo died.

And then the flower being Geto's birthdate flower? It's quite a few coincidences, even if any one wasn't deliberate. The anime goes as far as using Osmanthus flowers to depict their “first ‘love’” or blue spring. Geto’s name having “summer” in it, birthday being the start of spring (refer to chart above) and it being generally accepted that they’re each other’s “one and only (best friend)”. To me, it does seem like Geto represents the spring for Gojo’s deep winter.

Gojo wasn’t afraid of loving someone morally reprehensible... he wasn’t afraid of being stained. His sense of self was arguably either too hollow or too firm (firmly hollow?) for it to really matter. Just like his sense of responsibility - he was just searching for who Gojo Satoru was within the role as the strongest. I can see why the symbolism of longing and love are there in representation of flower language for Gojo, and scattered deeply within the series, as it is tied to Geto - his first and last blue spring. There are countless other points of symbolism but I’ll end it here! Apologies if anything is innacurate - do leave a comment to correct me if you can.

Thanks for reading and drop me a comment with any thoughts, or hit <3 if you found it interesting!

[skyler10fic]

Lightning Strikes Twice Ch. 2

Summary: Twenty-five years after being adopted by Phil and Melinda, young adult Skye is a Shield agent who wants to know so much more about confidential operations. Through an accident in FitzSimmons' lab, she discovers the answers no one else could: her true origins.

Read on Ao3

In an office high above sunny Los Angeles, at Shield’s West Coast headquarters, an error message popped up on the screen of a high-powered laptop: Access denied.

Skye had questions. The understatement of the century, her mother would have said. Being a Shield agent was her dream job in all ways but one: she needed so much more information than she was given at this clearance level. With both communications hub training as a cybersecurity agent and field experience, she was a versatile team player. But she also didn't rank high enough to know the “why” behind some of her assignments.

Now, spinning in her chair at her desk, she could only wait for her commanding officers to come back from their high-level meeting. A few years ago, she’d tried finding out information by simply hacking her way around the internal files, and she found the hard way that was not allowed, even though she’d helped design the security system herself. Years ago, she was always let off the hook easily as a rookie, having practically grown up at Shield with both of her parents as agents, but at 28, it wasn’t cute anymore and the consequences were real. So to resist poking around in files she wasn’t technically allowed in, she sought out her friends.

Drs. Jemma Simmons and Leo Fitz, known around the agency as FitzSimmons, were processing and cataloging the pieces of an alien ship unearthed by construction workers from a building project in the rapidly expanding suburbs, so Skye skipped their offices and went straight to the warehouse.

Sure enough, the couple squabbled in the adjacent lab, visible through a large glass window in their matching lab coats and safety goggles.

Fitz stole a contraption from Jemma’s side of the table. “You can’t know that, just because it has some markings on it!”

“They aren’t just markings. They’re just like the ones Skye…” Jemma stopped as she noticed who was approaching the doorway. “Skye! Anything we can help with?”

“No, actually, I came to see if you needed my help.” Skye narrowed her eyes and read both of their terrible poker faces. “Were you guys talking about me?”

“Nooo,” Jemma denied poorly.

“Oh, no, it’s uh, another Skye, someone else. You don’t know them…” Fitz scratched the back of his head, a sure tell.

“Uh huh,” Skye deadpanned, in a tone only a daughter of Melinda’s could have.

“Just out of curiosity,” Jemma said sweetly, “since you’re here to help… Do you know what these symbols mean?”

Jemma held out a shard of metal to Skye, and Fitz watched her with a fist to his lips, as if holding in his anticipation.

Skye shook her head. “Sorry, it’s not anything I’ve seen. Maybe an indigenous language or something? I could take a few photos and run it through my translation program if you want.”

“Like Google Translate?” Fitz asked, realizing the solution was, as usual, simpler than their overthinking.

Skye let out a surprised laugh. “Google wishes. No. Much, much better. And bigger. It includes all the terrestrial and extraterrestrial languages Shield has encountered.”

“Ah!” Jemma’s victory smile bloomed. “So you think it could be extraterrestrial.” She sent a pointed look at Fitz.

Fitz’s voice rose. “I never denied it was alien, just not…” He stopped and looked to Skye.

Skye hopped up on an empty metal table to signify that she was staying. “Okay, something is definitely going on with you two. Spill.”

Jemma took off her goggles and gloves, and she hopped up on the table next to Skye. She used her most gentle, careful voice as she asked, “Do you still remember your first night here?”

This hadn’t been what Skye was expecting. She put on a forced smile to cover up that the simple question had knocked the wind out of her.

Skye swallowed and tried to answer. “Yeah, a bit. Mainly through stories my dad told me growing up.”

Fitz saw her discomfort and stepped in. “Do you remember that time you threw dirt at me?”

Skye smiled for real this time. “We were like six.”

Jemma loved this story, so she said, as always, “I don’t think I remember this one. What happened?”

Fitz obliged her and began, “I had maths with the older kids, and at recess, one of the older boys told me how babies were made, which I was very unhappy about at the time. And I ran to tell Skye.”

“But,” Skye picked up the story as she swung her feet lightly, “My dad always said that I was given to them from the sky when I asked where I came from, so naturally, I always assumed all babies just sort of appeared out of thin air the way I did.”

Fitz teased, “You were so mad, you actually bent down, picked up two fistfuls of dirt, and tried to put them in my hair.”

“You ran fast back then.” Skye shrugged in surrender. “I had to resort to throwing it.”

“We weren’t allowed recess for the rest of the week,” Fitz concluded.

Jemma pressed in on this segue. “So, is that all you know, just that Agent Coulson and Agent May found you one day? Do you remember anything before that?”

Skye sighed and softened. “It’s crazy, but sometimes as a kid I had nightmares about these huge blue guards with, like, giant weapons. My parents used to have to hold me for hours to get me to go back to sleep. But after a few years, they stopped. Mostly. I think wherever I was before, I just wanted to forget so badly that I did.”

Jemma put an arm around Skye’s shoulders in comfort. “Sorry, I was just … never mind.”

Skye stiffened and shrugged her off to get through the part that made her sick whenever it came up. She’d been teased relentlessly by the other Shield kids at camp. It was supposed to be a safe place for agents’ families to unwind, but instead the rumors grew faster and wilder because anything was possible.

“I’m not an alien,” Skye gritted out. “Every test Shield could run, they put me through at three years old. And even since then, I have to get all my medical stuff done here, just in case something shows up. I’m 28!”

She hopped off the table and pressed her hands to her face in frustration. “These people, Shield … even me sometimes… We get so caught up in ‘Ooo what if it’s aliens’ that we forget sometimes people just suck. My birth parents either couldn’t care for me or didn’t, and I ran away, and clearly it wasn’t somewhere I wanted to go back to. All I know is they said I begged to stay, and that’s why I was adopted through Shield instead of put in foster care. So, yeah, I was a weird kid. A lot of three year olds are. It doesn’t mean I’m…”

Skye’s pacing and emphatic gesturing combined in a disaster Fitz and Jemma were powerless to stop as it happened before their eyes. In her adamancy, Skye’s hand knocked over a rusting metal storage box sitting on the artifact table next to where she’d been pacing. The box, decorated with more of the strange symbols Jemma had shown her earlier, popped open, with the clasp so damaged from being exposed to the elements. Something silver and strange rolled out and toward the edge of the table. Reflexively, Skye grabbed it before it hit the floor. Her reflexes were fast enough to catch it, but not fast enough to let go as her hand and arm hardened, like they were turning to stone.

“HELP!” Skye called out to her friends, who watched in horror.

“Don’t touch it, Fitz!” Jemma warned as she donned her goggles and gloves again. The last thing Skye heard before the low, loud rumbling started was Jemma’s promise they would fix this. Then everything went silent and black.

—-----------

Skye woke up to an earthquake. Not entirely unheard of here in the LA area, but rarely felt in a building as heavily fortified as Shield. Wait, she had been at work. Had she fallen asleep on the job? Why was she in an unfamiliar bed?

The earthquake stopped as she slowly realized. She took in the medical setting with its chill air conditioner draft and sterility and the crowd of people around her. Yes, she was still at Shield but not in any of the parts she expected.

“She’s awake!” Jemma’s voice called out from her hospital bedside.

“What happened?” Skye mumbled out despite her throat feeling like she swallowed a pile of rocks.

“Here, drink.” Melinda opened a bottle of water and handed it to her. “You were out for a few hours.”

Phil appeared in the room. “Oh thank god. How are you feeling, sunshine? You scared us pretty bad there.”

“I remember, we were in your lab by the warehouse…” Skye looked to Jemma and Fitz. “And I broke something you were working on. And then I passed out?”

“Sort of.” Jemma hesitated. “You touched a metal thing from the alien ship and then you were covered in a sort of casing? Like ash? We’re having our biohazards team look into it.”

Skye examined her arms, which were normal aside from having a greyish residue. It reminded her of when she’d dyed her hair black in college and the stains it’d left on her skin.

“How did you get it off?”

Fitz inhaled sharply. “We didn’t. You… you’re an…”

Skye’s gaze landed on him and she sat up. “I’m what?”

Melinda and Phil exchanged a look, and Melinda placed her hand on Skye’s. “Sweetheart, you’re special. You’ve always known that, and we haven’t hidden anything from you that we knew for sure.”

Skye’s pulse quickened, reflected in the lines on the monitor hooked up to nodes on her chest.

“All parents think their kids are special.”

“Not like this,” Melinda said, leaving no room for negotiation, but Skye persisted anyway.

Skye shook her head in denial. “I’m not… that. I’m just a human. I’m not what you think.”

“Skye,” Jemma said gently. “You broke out of the casing on your own. We ran the markings through your translation program. They were Kree. Even your lab work shows tiny changes—tweaks, really—to your genetics that could only work if…”

“Okay.” Skye tried not to panic and the shaking stated again. She took deep breaths as the bed trembled. The tubes and wires connected to her carried the shaking to their machines, like a very small power grid.

“Hey. Look at me. Breathe.” Melinda’s no-nonsense voice guided Skye’s gaze back to her and the shaking stopped. “You’re going to be okay. This isn’t a total shock to us. We suspected it from the first night you were here. And you sometimes drew symbols like this writing, those first few days, before we took you home with us.”

“You knew?”

“No.” Melinda shook her head once. “It was only ever a theory. Everything you know about yourself is 100% true.”

Jemma piped in again, “As far as we know, with the exception of these tweaks, you’re just as human as the rest of us, medically speaking. Your genetic profile just doesn’t match any potential families of origin here on Earth!”

Her cheery tone was meant to be helpful, but the others simply blinked at her.

Phil leaned over his daughter’s hospital bed and pecked a kiss to her forehead. “However you got here, it was a miracle. We love you. That’s what matters. What happens now, with the shaking, well, you’re in the best place in the world to have help figuring that out.”

The realization hit Skye and she gasped. “ME? I’m the earthquake?”

“Yeah,” Phil exhaled with a smile on his lips. “It’s pretty cool.”

“COOL?!” Skye gapped at her dad.

Fitz shrugged. “Think about it. If you get it under control, you could be part of the enhanced division.”

Superheroes. She was the new accident-turned-superhuman in a long line. Last year, a kid got bitten by a radioactive spider on a school trip. Before that, tech geniuses, scientists with dangerous experiments, and even a few aliens had come through the office while on special assignments, but it wasn’t as regular of an occurrence. Now, as more enhanced individuals pinged Shield's radar, Director Fury was seeing the need for not just a team of contractors but a whole division and training program.

At Skye’s silence, Jemma added, “But no pressure. You’ve only just gotten powers, who knows what all they do, and you need to heal first.”

“Heal? I feel fine, just tired.”

Jemma grimaced. “That’ll be the IV. Painkillers. You hit your head and side quite hard when you fainted after you broke free of the casing. We had to take shelter from the explosion and quake and flying ashy casing shrapnel and couldn’t catch you. The good news is, no concussion, though! Just a little worse for wear on the outside is all. You’ll be back to normal in no time, at least appearance-wise.”

Skye picked up on what Jemma wasn’t saying and reached for her phone on the bedside table. She opened up the camera app in selfie mode and was startled. The entire right side of her face was purple and blue.

“Shit.”

Melinda laid her hand on Skye’s again. “The painkillers help for now, but healing takes time. No need to rush into anything other than getting better.”

Fitz glanced around the circle and back down at Skye. “And whatever happens, you’ve got all of us.”

It meant a lot—the world, really— but it didn’t change the fact that when visiting hours were over and her friends and parents went home to sleep, she was just as alone as she always had been in the end. She knew she should be grateful to have so much love, but as she attempted to rest, part of her was still haunted by one last lingering nightmare, the one that she lied about having gone away.

She was hiding in some sort of shed, just a little peeling whitewashed wooden shelter next to a swirling expanse of sand and dirt. Rain pelted in the wall that was just a chainlink fence looking out to the field, but she tried to stay as quiet and still as possible. The monsters were coming for her. She shivered in the cold as the ground shook with their heavy footsteps. Any minute, she’d see a blue face, threatening to send her to one of the colonies where the work was hard and endless.

“Agent Skye!” a nurse called out to her and shook her slightly. “Agent Skye!”

Skye awoke to a kind but unfamiliar face relaxing. “Sorry, did I shake things again?”

“Yes, but it’s alright now.” The nurse waved her hand at staff peeking in the doorway. “Can you tell me what you were dreaming about, if anything?”

Skye sat up as she answered. “It’s one I had since I was a kid. Hiding from someone coming to take me away. Don’t have to be a shrink to figure that one out.”

The nurse had clearly read her chart because she responded without missing a beat. “No, not at all. Perhaps some antianxiety in the IV, just to help you sleep without fear?”

Skye could tell despite the nurse’s genuine concern that the medicine was not just for her own the nightmares but also for the ease of the nightshift staff. As a Shield foundling of unknown origin, she’d grown used to people being perplexed by her, astonished by her, and even afraid of her, but this was the first time she realized that fear was entirely valid. The nurse even secured Skye’s IV tape where it had shaken loose and rearranged some of the equipment before leaving, making it more stable in case she quaked it again.

The medicine did the trick and soon enough, she was back to sleep, despite her confusion and worries. This time, she slept dreamlessly.

The next day, she went home with instructions about bruise care and several medications, including an antianxiety daily pill and referral to a Shield therapist who dealt specifically with newly enhanced people. There was no way around it: her recovery process was going to hurt, but here at the end of her rope mentally and physically, she finally allowed herself to get the help she had needed for a lot longer than she had had superpowers.

After her body healed, she trained hard for months, going from emotionally shaken inside and sending little tremors into the world around her to steady inside and in control of her growing powers. Every day, they grew stronger as she did, until she could control the waves on the ocean from the shore and cause a landslide of the rocks on the hill from a high-rise a mile away. She poured all of her energy and anger and fear and unanswered questions into training until she was certified as an enhanced field agent.

[sang8262]

JP - World Tour: Master Quotes and Dialogue

This is a dump of all the master quotes that JP has in World Tour. It includes stuff like his responses to different gifts, or different answers depending on dialogue options for the conversations you have with him. Did my best to group them into sections that made the most sense!

! Note !

It's a bit hard to tell -when- exactly the quotes trigger, since none of that information is in the raw text file. I'm doing my best to remember + context clues to try an contextualize each scenario, but sorry if they get mixed up a bit!!

I also tried to format them so that his different responses to what your avatar chooses to answer with are also distinguishable. Again, posting this as a tumblr post might not have been the best but argh i hate google docs more, so.

ENJOY:

Upon first speaking to him

When the fog clears, you can see the old district from here.

It's a far cry from flourishing, but it is nonetheless a place the teeming masses of Nayshall call home.

To build a fighting arena while leaving such a teeming nexus of humanity to languish is...twisted.

I suppose that's what you're thinking?

It doesn't sit well with me.

I'm not sure how I feel about it.

......

Such debasement is the very nature of growth itself.

For something to thrive, something else must wilt and wither.

A fact of life easily understood to a fledgling fighter such as yourself.

For now, who you are seems of little concern to me.

If it is power you seek, in power I will instruct.

Teach me.

I have but a single request. No need to worry. It's quite trifling.

I don't need your instruction.

......

Unlocking new specials

Very well.

Commit to memory the following move.

///

I have a new kind of power for you.

Go ahead. Try it.

Prompting him to spar

You wish to test your mettle?

(Agreeing): Very well. Be my guest.

(Upon declining): By all means, think on it.

(After match): Well, that's that, then.

///

2. How is your Psycho Power progressing?

Show me, would you?

(Upon declining): Not quite ready, are you?

///

3. Hm. It seems to be time.

Allow me to test you.

(Upon declining): Perhaps my expectations were misplaced.

///

4. I believe you may now prove a match for me. Would you agree?

That I do.

I'm...not so sure about that.

Is that so? Very well, then.

(After sparring, either one of the two):

Very good.

That will do.

(Note: Not quite sure where these belong, but it might be after you spar with him?)

Very well. Seeing one's own moves wielded by others is quite fascinating.

Unlocking JP as an assist in battle

Practical hands-on combat experience is a splendid way to learn.

Let us study together, if you are so inclined.

Misc. dialogue. They change as you gain more bond points with him.

"Master"?

If that is what you wish to call me, by all means, go right ahead.

///

Physical combat is such an irrational thing.

In attempting to strike down your foe, you open yourself to attack as well.

If your goal is to see another human laid low, there are far better methods available, and yet.

///

Looking for meaningless banter, are we?

///

Ask, and I'll be the first to tell you.

I do not believe my skills in combat to be particularly exceptional.

Of course, I don't believe them to be entirely lacking, either.

///

What would I do if someone asked me to teach them my techniques...so that they could best me with them?

I would teach them, of course. Do you take issue with that?

///

My apologies, but I'm not one for small talk.

I struggle to keep track of the topics of gossip, you see.

///

Ah, yes. Victory.

The masses delight in victory, do they not?

Those who ruminate upon what victory truly means, however, are a far rarer breed.

///

I don't particularly care what manner of individual you are.

So long as you don't impede me, that is.

///

Why do I fight?

Amusing. I don't consider what I do "fighting," per se.

But if that's how you perceive things, I suppose I may be a fighter after all.

///

You came to me seeking strength.

A rapacious greed motivates you. I suggest you acknowledge that.

You are a heretic, driven by greed, living entirely within obsessive extremes.

///

We may have discussed this before, but it bears repeating.

Physical combat is an irrational act.

You work tirelessly to master that irrationality.

It's all quite alien to me, I must concede. But if this is what you want, I won't stop you.

///

You said you...wanted to grow stronger, yes?

You have Psycho Power now. Use it to your heart's desire.

///

I believe his name was...Bosch?

His grasp of Psycho Power was far greater than yours.

///

The desire to become stronger is a curious thing indeed.

For living things, it may very well be a natural inclination.

Strength is outwardly useful for survival, for one.

That being said, it is not necessarily the strong who survive.

In reality, to survive...is to adapt.

///

There was a man who went by the name M. Bison.

Those who sought strength inevitably encountered him.

Such was his power.

He wished to bring all things on this Earth under his control, entirely of his own strength.

He earnestly believed he could attain this goal.

This force I command—this so-called Psycho Power...

Bison researched it, seeking a means to amplify his own strength, you see.

Conversation - 1

I have a question for you.

Do you believe this world to be just?

I do.

Then we are in agreement. The world is a good and righteous place.

I do not.

Ah, so you're a realist? A noble perspective.

There are exceptions, of course. But I believe man is fundamentally good.

By trusting each other and building mutually supportive societies, humanity has prospered.

Goodness inspires amity and trust in others. It is a survival tactic employed by the human race.

Which raises the question—what is evil?

Perhaps evil refers to expropriating the goodness of others for one's own ends.

Myself?

I am merely one of the world's minuscule many, striving every day to do good.

Not unlike everyone else. Heh heh.

Quest - 1

Have you ever given any thought to this thing we call "the economy"?

Formless though it may be, its very existence drives the lives—and deaths—of billions.

To know what drives others to action is one of the fundamentals of combat.

Now go on. Consume. Consuming...is knowing.

(Upon quest completion)

Well done. So? Any impressions?

I think I've made a realization.

I'm not sure I understand.

Splendid.

Whether you've gained something from this matters little.

At times, an expected profit exerts more power over individuals than the profit itself.

And the world's economic engines are no different.

Quest - 2

You're aware of the insurgent group within this country, are you not?

Intel I've acquired suggests money to fund their operations will be changing hands...

What do you suppose we should do about that?

For now, allow me to show you where the exchange will be taking place.

(Upon quest completion)

You found the scene of the exchange? Goodness.

So. How much was there?

200,000 zenny.

Quite the impressive sum. You can go ahead and keep it. It's only fair compensation for a job well done.

Zero zenny.

(I can't find the quote!!! but he says something like "oh you let them get away that's unfortunate, I would have let you keep the money too but oh well")

A Memory from JP - 1

Was there something you wished to ask me?

Tell me about the terror attacks in Nayshall.

Ah yes. The terror attacks. An organization financing The Suval'hal Martial Arts Tournament sought to make fraudulent financial transactions. To do so, they worked with anti-government forces to cause a bombing scare in the city. I suspect you already know this, but the organization in question is the US-based Masters Foundation. In the midst of all that chaos, it seems Ken Masters, the foundation's vice chairman, resigned from his position. Was he driven to commit such heinous acts out of a blind lust for power?

Tell me about the alleged money laundering.

My, straight to the point, I see. Allow me to provide a straight answer, then. Nayshall's financial infrastructure is built upon cryptocurrency technology. If you're inquiring as to whether it's possible to use such a system to launder money...the answer is yes.

Regrettably, what I've told you is the extent of my knowledge on the subject.

All I can say for certain is this: People seek the answers they wish to hear.

A Memory from JP - 2

The Suval'hal Martial Arts Tournament?

What of it?

Tell me about Bosch.

Ah, you refer to the individual who brought a bomb to the awards ceremony. He detonated himself while the entire world looked on. Truly shocking.

Tell me about the Champion Belt bomb.

The bomb was likely intended for the master of ceremonies. That is to say...myself. Anti-government forces believe that eliminating me will return Nayshall to its former glory. They are mistaken.

That incident spurred further pressure against the anti-government forces.

Hardly surprising, considering innocent children almost became collateral damage.

Such acts cannot be condoned.

But what's done is done.

This may very well be the end of the tournament. Or perhaps it will continue.

Either is fine by me.

A Bond with JP - 1

Have you ever owned cats?

I have one by the name of Cybele.

When he was a kitten, so winsome and charming, he picked up a curious habit.

He would chase his own tail endlessly. Around and around in circles.

And what do you suppose Cybele did one day?

He caught the tail he had been chasing all that time...and bit it clean off.

Indeed, his own tail.

His thought process in this endeavor confounds me. Did he not realize the tail was his own?

Or perhaps he was keenly aware, and continued in the act regardless?

......

A bobtail he may have become...

But he remained winningly handsome. Stunningly so.

A Bond with JP - 2

As its name suggests, Psycho Power is influenced by the strength of one's psyche.

Without a strong mind to support it, great power will always remain out of reach.

A heart subjected to power beyond its control will shatter.

We discussed M. Bison, leader of Shadaloo, did we not?

I worked under him, managing the organization's financial matters.

A financial officer hardly requires martial prowess. And yet...

I desired Psycho Power. And I attained it.

Why, you ask?

I suppose I wanted to see the world through the same lens as Bison.

But what of you?

Bison sought to rule the world through violence and fear. Once you make his power yours...

How will the world look to you then, I wonder? Hahahaha...

A Bond with JP - 3

You selected me as a teacher of your own volition.

Or so you think. Isn't that right?

Reflect upon the human will for a moment. To what extent are your actions conscious acts?

There's a famous experiment. A person thinks, "I wish to move my arm," and does just that.

But in reality, it is only after moving your arm that your brain thinks upon it.

Fascinating, is it not?

The sensation of willfully choosing something only occurs after the choice has been made.

In which case...what do you believe you've chosen by studying under me?

"I wish to become stronger," perhaps? Was it truly you who thought that?

A Bond with JP - 4

Once, there was an organization called Shadaloo.

They ran an experiment. It attempted to imbue a large number of test subjects with Psycho Power.

By force, in most cases. Goodness, Shadaloo was simply dreadful.

Subjects without a propensity for Psycho Power were broken by it utterly, and perished.

Only a select few had this aptitude, and even fewer endured the training necessary to master such power.

You are one of those lucky few.

Or perhaps... Perhaps Psycho Power chose you.

But you are free to interpret things as you please.

Gifting him stuff!

(One of the three upon prompting gifts)

Why, thank you.

Thank you. I humbly accept.

Appreciated. I suppose I should thank you.

(Given a generic gift)

Yes, quite impressive. I'm sure there's someone out there who would enjoy this.

(Given Antique cards)

Oh? You're giving me trash? A good luck charm, you say? Hrm.

In any card game, using old cards is forbidden. That's a fundamental rule, I'll have you know.

(Given an Absurd Check)

You're giving me a check? I used these all the time for work, once upon a time. A check can be used in all manner of ways... Even if it bounces.

Attaining skill mastery

I'm hardly an expert when it comes to Psycho Power. With that said...

I sense in it something akin to bloodlust.

To wit, your savagery outstrips my own.

This I impart unto you: Strength... is meaningless.

You must be disappointed.

[lunarsilkscreen]

Why did I leave the military

In 2010, the repeal of don't ask don't tell happened, which was a landslide victory for gay men. But for Queer people in general? Iffy ground.

For the entirety of my existence I knew what I was, am, are. But gender confirming social policy and social stigma means you can't talk about it. Like the first two rules of Fight Club.

It exists, but you don't talk about it. Because quote: "It's morally and objectively wrong to wear clothes of the opposite gender."

That's the Line you can't cross. And yes, this includes Kilts if you're outside of the Ireland/Scotland area.

So if you're further than that on the queer spectrum, you look ambiguous, people confuse you for another gender, or they just can't tell. That is a moral and personal failing. One corrected through Hairstyles, clothing, and gendered perfume flavours.

So if you're a genetic men and other men are confusing you for a women, and other (maybe sapphic) women want to date you. They can't acknowledge that.

Just "Oh, we can't do that thing at all".

But the talk will go on behind your back regardless.

Some people look like me are upset because they aren't seen as the Pinnacle of masculinity. A trait I also shared, but not really cause it felt good mind you. I wanted to be a women. Right? At the very least, I was OK with ambiguity.

"so why the F*? Would you join the military if it would put you in the box?"

Oh you know, GI. Jane, the existence of the "Tom Boy". Video Games.

Plus I had a lot of reasons I couldn't continue staying where I had grown up, or with my family, or even continue going to college the first time around despite having qualified for the MEAP{ Michigan Educational Assessment Program } which awarded money to kids just out of high school for excelling at a test that summed up the entire school education.

Quick Google search says it's the "M-STEP" now. I dunno how many other students qualified. I just know I qualified for that *on top* of tuition incentive program.

To which people understandable ask what happened?

It was going great, but I had no way to practice for driving test to get out there. Had a friend, friend promised would help me. Which made me start the aid process. But that process had a two year limit on it.

That two year limit on it, along with no driver's license along with unstable home life, along with losing that friendship, because her words; "you're a bum". Along with whatever other list of grievances she had with me. Meant I lost that second year of aid. Gone. I need to stop trusting people.

So unstable home life, depression, definitely queer, definitely no friends. A friend of mine was joining the Air Force. And I thought "F* it, YOLO".

The complex reasons? That instability. That lack of future. The paycheck. And the possibility that I *might* be able to pursue my dreams that way.

So why the F* would I leave that behind?

In the Air Force, we're taught to lead from the front. I dunno if that's the same way in other branches, I assume it is.

At that time I was falling apart mentally, the only thing keeping me going was this knowledge that life sucked on the outside, and there was, and still is nothing out here for me. I re-enlisted for a little while, got to do a desk job with a lot of programming. But I was still falling apart mentally.

And when I went to pursue the reasons why, There still wasn't anything that I could do about it. Just me, and deteriorating mental health. And being Vaguely Queer, but not really getting along with other queer people cuz the community sucks. (most communities suck, but the gatekeeping in the queer community is something else man.)

And then, the cherry on top was the Executive Order by President Trump that trans people should be banned from serving in the military.

Many queer people accuse me of this being the only reason for it. F* them. You know why? Gatekeeping.

Excuse me for leaving on my integrity.

I could've stayed just a few more months until the end of my enlistment and not had to burn a bridge. But I used my other disability, let's just say arthritis. Because there's a list. As an instant out.

I could've waited and had the same benefits you know.

I could've stayed in and had a fulfilling career. Well, maybe. There was talk of a thing I was supposed to be up for. But it wasn't real until the moment I left. It wouldn't have stopped me from leaving either way.

But it was; A presidential declaration that the My (and by extension the Military's) Mental Health did not matter in the slightest. And the possibility of going back to a Job, Airline Mechanic, on a devasting weapon that had already taken a toll on my mental health.

And I couldn't deal with both of those possibilities.

So I saved what I could in order to bide my time for a job.

And everybody that I could've relied on back home. In any facet, I ended up being unable to rely on them, and with declining mental health that also didn't matter to them; made a string of decisions that put me in a bind.

And with no friends, and no backup, and relatively no voice.

I decided to protest the U.S. government. And Trump himself for being a megaphone for the Evangelicalsm that hated me. Made my family reluctant to support me. And just overall being Dick's.

Because, unlike those actually in the "queer community" I took a risk.

One that friends and family took advantage of.

I would say "calculated" but I knew what the ultimate price would be. Because I know how people act. I know how jealous and hateful and spiteful they are.

And they haven't proven me wrong yet.

[dearweirdme]

Why are some still in denial that it was really Tae and Jennie in the video? I was a Taekooker but when those leaked photos came out last year I realized that all those TK selca that Tae and JK has been postings, that everytime Tae mention JK nonstop on his live and the TK selca he posted on Mother's day...all those were just Tae doing fan service. And those times he mentioned anything that is gay pride related? I realized he was only queerbaiting.

Hi anon!

Your message was the politest in my inbox this morning, so I'll be taking your ask to respond to some of the comments I've gotten.

I believe it was Tae and Jennie in that video and even if not it doesn't actually matter, because it is clear that the message they want to convey is that it's them. So either way it's to show that Tae is dating Jennie (a woman) and Jennie is dating Tae (a BTS member and a man).

From your ask I deduce that you have in fact seen interactions between Jk and Tae that you thought might be something beyond friendship. You changed your mind when Jennie rumors/evidence started to show up. What do you think closeting looks like? let me tell you, it is exactly this! There are so many examples of queer celebs coming out, when they have beforehand been seen 'dating' straight (Sam Smith, Ricky Martin, Kristen Stewart and many more... just google closeted celebs). There are also many accounts of such celebs admitting that them dating straight was a lie.

Why is your reaction to Tae queercoding (which is what he does) that he must be queerbaiting? WHy isn't your reaction that he must be closeted? Are closeted celebs not allowed to queercode? Are closeted people supposed to behave according their closet? How is that fair? A person's closet is never (!!!) by their own choosing. One might decide that for whatever reason them staying closeted is safer, it is never what they truly want.

I live in a very small country, in which queer people are thankfully able to live openly. It's by no means perfect, but people feel safe enough to be open. I can easily come up with a multitude of queer national celebs. Singers, tv-hosts, actors... queer people are represented well here. How many openly queer South Korean celebs are there? Very little, especially amongst idols. Does that statistically make sense? Does SK have less queer people than other parts of the world, or is the SK society less likely to accept them and they therefore are forced to be closeted?

Accusing a long time rumored queer-coding man of queerbaiting is so harmfull. It takes so much bravery for them to be even a little bit open, for society to then blame them of using their own lgbt community for clout is harsh. Even without Jk in the picture I would still consider the possibility of Tae being queer, because of his queercoding. Some of you might think you are protecting him of 'evil taekookers', but all you might be doing is solidifying his feeling that being queer is not safe for him.

For people... 'concerned' about my mental state, not to worry. I don't write this blog because I want to "insert myself in Taekook's relationship" (whatever that might mean), neither do I want to live out my own queer identity through them (I am not queer). I write about these things because I want the world to change. If my son were to be queer I want him to be able to just be. Not discussing queerness and all things that go with it wont change anything. If all I ever do through writing my blog is make one person change their perception... than that will already be a victory.

If anyone want's to read more about closeting or queercoding, please let me know. I will gladly direct you to some articles.

[minty-tea-soup]

Spiders can have little a toothpaste, as a treat

So this was from god knows how long ago but considering I might actually start posting on this app I figured hell I'll start with the spider toothpaste rant as a treat.

It starts when I sit down to write a Spider-man and Daredevil fanfiction where Peter Parker gets changed very young and due to the world being a bit more dystopian after the Sokovia Accords May Parker has to give Peter to Matt to take care of and hide. Because Peter isn't just given powers, he is definitely a whole lot more spider. Extra limbs, eyes, venomous, picks up spider mannerisms etc.

So where does toothpaste come to play here? Well most toothpastes are mint and I happened to know Mint was a good spider repellent cause I love mint and dislike spiders near me.

And I went: wouldn't it be funny is little Peter didn't want to brush teeth cause mint to Matt's confusion.

It was supposed to be one maybe two lines to show that Peter was very much spider now.

Then I was looking up stuff that was repellent for spiders and I see baking soda. And I go…. fuck that's what's in non-minty toothpaste/the only toothpaste I know that isn't minty off the top of my head. That page also tells me that something called DE is instant kill for spiders. I go "what's DE?" Turns out it is an instant kill for spiders and great for dental health so much so that it is often used for homemade toothpaste so you don't have to buy all the chemicals and some toothpastes already have it.

So Fuck. I'm lucky that Matt didn't instantly make Peter sick/kill him.

Then I think wait what about salt water?

Instant kill for spiders.

Holy fuck why does everything kill spiders. This thing is curing my arachnophobia cause hot damn spiders are shit at surviving it seems. And like yes I know they can survive fine but they cannot survive toothpaste via my google searches. And now I'm also very very into trying and finding a toothpaste that Matt can give Peter and not have Peter reject cause it makes him sick.

Also at this point I've decided that all of this is going into the fic, cause I'm doing all this research and it's funny.

Finally I find charcoal toothpaste that doesn't have any instant kills or repellents in it. Charcoal's only use against spiders is that if you are not it can help draw out the venom but you can do that with snakes too. Great amazing.

Then just to be sure cause I've been cursed to be the curious cat that keeps using up it's lives for research I look at what is on charcoal.

Sawdust.

I look up what type of wood sawdust is normally made from.

Pine, for, spruce, hemlock, CEDAR, and redwood.

Cedar is repellent for spiders which means there is a 1 in 5 chance that everytime that Matt tries the toothpaste on Peter, Peter has a reaction cause heightened senses remember? So now something that was supposed to be two lines and funny is about a page and Matt is feeling tested by god because I'm feeling tested by god.

So I have him make his own charcoal and in turn his own charcoal toothpaste and declare himself victorious at being able to find spider safe toothpaste.

Will anyone appreciate the effort?

Probably not.

Matt will continue to scream into pillows.

However this rant became my go to silly rant during Covid and is almost two years old now? and when meeting new people cause it's funny and it lets me see how they react when I info dump. Like my dad who told me I was wasting my time verses my friend who has now heard it like 4 times start to finish and thinks it is great.

But then I got a development on this rant after two years because I too hate toothpaste with a passion it just feels gross and leaves mouth weird and fucks with tongue. And so my mom as a joke got me kids strawberry toothpaste which upon reading the ingredients realized that children's toothpaste might have worked perfectly fine to solve Matt's problem which is fucking funny as hell. However the silica that a lot of them have might actually not been great cause it can dry out bugs, which is partly why you can use some types as toothpaste in small amounts as a pest repellent! The other reason is they fucking hate the smell. Again toothpaste against bugs is an interesting thing.

But yeah your right spiders can have toothpaste, but they probably won't like it.

[one-thousand-and-one-fandoms]

Voltrom Ghost Whisperer AU - Part 7

1 2 3 4 5 6

Allura decided to skip town the next day and drove to the next one over. After knowing the last name of the family who previously owned her house, and getting a name out of Keith, a quick Google search for Lance McClain quickly told her he went to high school in the next town over. She had no idea how he was going to react to her, but she couldn't let Keith just roam without rest for all eternity.

She arrived at the school just as the bell rang and the kids began to leave for the day. She recognized Lance when he came out of the building, flanked by two other teens. She didn't want them to think she was a creep, but... taking a deep breathe to strengthen her resolve, she exited the car.

"Lance McClain?" She called when he was close enough. He turned around and threw her a flirty smile and a wink.

"Who's asking?" He asked, and had the gall to stare her up and down.

She raised an eyebrow and replied, "Someone way too old for you."

Lance's friends laughed and he, good naturedly, shoved them a bit. Then he turned to her.

"What can I do for you?"

"I hope this doesn't come off as too weird or anything, but I'm a friend of the Koganes and I haven't been able to get in touch with them," she began and took note of how he became stiff and his face lost all color, "someone told me your family used to be closed to them, so... I was hoping..."

"Lance, are you okay, man?" The larger one of his friends said as he put a hand on his shoulder. The smaller one stepped in between Lance and Allura in a protective posture.

"Yeah... yeah, I'm ok," Lance replied, but his countenance said differently, "I just... I need to sit down."

Lance shakily walked to a bench on the side of the road, and his friends followed. Allura did too, but slower and deliberately giving them space. Allura saw Lance take several deep breaths while his friends gave her the stink eye.

"I'm sorry," she said sincerely, "I didn't mean to upset you."

"No, it's... it's fine, it's just... I'm sorry to be the one to tell you this, but Mr. Kogane died a few years ago..." Lance replied.

"Oh, I'm so sorry."

"You said you knew him?" He asked then.

Allura hated herself a bit for lying, "something like that, but it was a long time ago."

Lance looked at her closely, and once again his eyes travelled up and down but this time it seemed to have a purpose. He observed her for longer, too, enough to make her uncomfortable.

"Are you Keith's mother?" He finally asked, and his voice shook, and Allura didn't think she was imagining the tears pooling in his eyes. Keith would be sixteen, now. Sixteen years ago, Allura would have been sixteen or seventeen years old herself. A bit of a stretch but not impossible for her to have conceived and given Keith up, so she could see how he reached that conclusion.

She had no frame of reference for how old Sargeant Kogane had been when he died.

"No, I'm sorry if I gave that impression. I'm just a family friend, that's all. I'm from England, so we weren't able to meet very often," she answered.

"I don't remember ever seeing you or hearing about you, and we were pretty close," Lance mentioned. He tried to appear nonchalant, but it seemed forced.

"Is that so? Well, I-"

"I think you're lying," he continued and didn't let her speak. What could Allura say? She was lying, but only because she wanted to help Keith move on.

"I think you're a reporter," the short one of his friends pipped in, "we've had some of them come sniffing around over the hears. They never claimed to be related to a dead family, though. That's a new low for your kind."

"I'm not a reporter," Allura said and bristled, "if you must know the truth, I just moved here from England and I bought your house. That's why I'm here."

That seemed to take all three teens by surprise, and Allura internally celebrated her small victory.

"I don't know how I can help you, lady," Lance said, frowning, "my dad would know more about the house if there's anything you want to know about it."

"It's not the house I'm having an issue with, but..."

The short one raised an eyebrow and didn't cut Lance any slack, "But?"

Allura sighed, and relented, "Before you say anything, just... I know how this is going to sound. I know perfectly well what it looks like. Therefore, I'm prefacing this by saying that I'm not after anything, no money, no nothing. Just... keep an open mind?"

"You're beginning to sound very suspicious," the larger kid said.

"Beginning?" The shorter one scoffed.

"I'm listening," Lance replied, looking curious and intrigued.

"I have a guest in my house," she began.

"So?" Lance asked, "Good for you."

"It's an unwanted guest. Every day, around dusk, he arrives in my house and screams at me get out. The other day he blew out my light bulb."

"And how is this Lance's problem?" The large kid asked. Allura ignored him and carried in.

"He is small, about this tall, around ten years old. He has messy, longish, about here more or less, black hair. He has violet eyes, quite unique I must say," as she spoke, Lance's eyes progressively widened in something akin to horror, "he's wearing black, knee-long trousers, a white shirt and a-"

"Red jacket," Lance finished for her.

"He told me his name."

"No," Lance shook his head and stood up, grief making his face scrunch up as he paced and wrung his hands, "no, that's impossible."

"He also told me your name," Allura continued.

"No! No, you're lying!"

"Lance, what-?"

"Lance!"

Allura spoke above them, "I know it's hard to believe, but he's lost and he's looking for you. He's been waiting."

"I have to... I have to go," Lance said and took off running away from the school grounds. The larger kid took off after him, clearly worried, barely sparing Allura a glance. The smaller one, however, rounded on her with a fierce glare.

"What's your deal, huh?" She yelled, "what do you want from him?"

"He understood what I was trying to tell him just fine. If she wants to tell you, it's up to him," Allura answered.

"No, you don't get to pull that card on me," she said, "whatever you said clearly affected him and I want to know why."

"Then ask him."

"Stay away from us," the kid spat at her, "or I'll call the police."

Next

[thegeminisage]

ive done a terrible thing and accidentally turned on gloom hands for the map. i was only doing korok seeds/wells/caves/other bosses - i wanted shrines and hands to be a surprise, so i was just turning shrines on and off now and then to make sure i wasnt walking past any. but then i turned on hads to see how many there were and there's two in the next place im going for my korok seeds (crenel region). i would have rather not known :(

ugh man my compendium is SOOO empty...i miss the camera being on the first-person view. having it as an ability is so clunky! if i wanna 100% this i really gotta get on that bc no way do i or will i ever have the rupees to buy my way to victory

i looove btw, if i havent said. that if you kill an enemy while gliding/skydiving, you get the drops anyway. like they just appear in your inventory. VERY good

five bomb flowers in this chest! i appreciate it, but i almost have more bombs than arrows. (80-something arrows, 60-something bombs.) i got used to living without them. im a muddlebud girl now

ah i see. mining.

a well with nothing in it...there's gotta be more to it. haha it's the moor garrison ruins well so. that's a little joke. anyway im googling

okay, apparently google doesn't know shit either? surely there is something else here........

i guess not :/ bet i'll have to come back later...

WAIT I FOUND. STEPS THAT GO UNDERGROUND BUT THERE'S BARS HERE AAAA LET ME INNNNN

lmao the wall in the well is cracked can i actually bomb it?

answer: no

OH....................................

i thought ascending thru the ceiling would just take me back topside, but the well room was under this underground room! so i got in! ooough that dopamine. puzzle SOLVED all on my own!!!!

theres a treasure chest in one of these rooms, but the map tells me it's another fucking shield so im giving it a pass. i got the trick, thats what matters

shrine BELOW me? girl wtf

if i have to go back in that mining cave i just went thru.

ugh i checked and i DOOOO how did i miss it!!!

i DIED getting over there >:(

UGH and the enemies are back cuz of a blood moon :( i wasted 2 muddlebuds to NOT fight these guys...

i wish the totk fight music was better. i mean don't get me wrong, it's fine, but because of the way the soundtrack works the 3 songs i hear most often are the fight music, the shrine music, and the ambient bg music, which sometimes changes when in a snowy/high/watery area. i hear the fight music more than any other song and it gets stuck in my head CONSTANTLY and while much of this game's soundtrack is mindblowing and incredible, the fight music Is Not. it's simply not good enough for the song i'm listening to the fucking most. i'm already tired of hearing it and i'm only (checks) 95 hours into this game. ugh

>:( i'm mad that i probably won't be able to 100% it before i hit 100 hours...i wanted my whole hero's path on record...

anyway i found the shrine. finally.

NOT MORE OF THIS EVENTIDE SHIT

ugh i'm just gonna do it. honestly why couldn't they have just refined it to one island instead of microdosing us.......

COOL...there's a battle talus just patrolling back and forth along the road here!!

oh, a big tower fell over here...idr that from botw but i think it was in the trailers! neat

ok, i'm getting close to the area where the hands spawn :( i turned them back on on my map cuz im scared :(

oh man. so they spawn in these stumps full of water right...i can literally see those. they are so close to me. if i didn't Know i'd wander right in, unsuspecting...this is why i had that turned off. it's better not to know!!! than this anxiety!!!!!

what if i just...make them pop and then despawn them...

i can't do it. i can't. that is a TRAP i can see it's a trap those are high sides there's water like no fucking way. no way

GOD fuck a like like made a noise and i jumped out of my skin. the way the hands can scare you when you arent around AAAAAAAAAAAA

rauru settlement ruins...an innocuous reference to the ocarina of time sage in botw, but now...

i still have a few seeds left to get there and i know what i said about not doing shit today but i do actually have to do shit today. rip!

[queen-boos-scriptures]

.

.

“Bye, I hope you both have a wonderful trip!” Wilford waved frantically as Dark and Anti were getting in one of the manor’s vehicles. 

“I mean it, Wil! Make sure the others are notified!” Dark said before he got in the driver’s side of the vehicle.

“Oh, I will, Dark! Don’t you worry about that!” Wilford continued waving, even as the van began driving off into the road, slowly dispersing from the male’s vision.”They’ll know for sure..” He smirked before getting back into the manor home.

“Everyone!” Wilford announced, watching the Egos pile into the room, confusing filling the air.

"I am here to announce that Dark and Anti are leaving the manor for a bit! A month or so. Something about an anniversary vacation.." Wil rambled, "And Dark put me in charge!" He cheered.

"No way." Bim blurted.

"Preposterous." Edward stated, looking at the calendar, "And on such short notice?"

"Dark said that he wanted to tell us yesterday, but was too busy packing and!" Wilford sang, "He told me that his phone will be off for the time being! So if we wanted to, we can't really notify him on everything." The male lied.

A sigh came from most of the Ipliers, "Alright, thank you for notifying us, Wil." Google stated.

"Not a problem! Now run along and do your thing and if you need me, I'll be in Dark's office!" Wilford smiled, walking away from the stunned group.

"What has Dark done?!" Bim squeaked, placing his hands on his head, "The manor is going to be ruined and WE are going to pay for it! I can't afford another lecture! I need my beauty sleep!!" He cried running to his room while the others rolled their eyes.

"How can Dark give him responsibility with no hesitation?" Ed asked, looking over at Edward.

"Maybe he was busy?" Edward rationed.

"Whatever situation has taken place, Wilford is in charge nonetheless and we cannot persuade Dark." Google stated before he walked away, already suspicious of Wilford's intent.

.

.

.

"Oh it seems Dark has already prepared a list." Wilford mused, grabbing the piece of paper on the desk though was disappointed when he saw Google's name on it rather than his own, "Finish off the records and file them away.. Roll call meeting at three, email the Septics over said records.. Bah! Easy peasy!!" Wilford exclaimed, slamming the paper down, making one of Dark's framed photos to fall with a thump. 

"Oopsies. Ah, it's fine," He picked up the photo seeing that it wasn't damaged miraculously and placed it back after taking a look at it, snorting, "And he says he isn't soft. Now.. Where are the papers?" He muttered looking around the desk.

Papers scattered along the desk, a laptop was placed at the far side with neatly stacked folders, binders, and files full of irrelevant paperwork. Some over criminal records from Wilford himself, others over Bim's show and Wilford's interviews scheduling, the last bit is contracts that has yet to be given to the Ipliers which is their job requirements for whatever mission they have.

"Where is it?" Wilford hummed, going behind the desk and checking the filing cabinets, before shouting in victory as he found the needed record, still needing to be finished.

"Okay- Wow that is tiny." He held the paper closer, reading the small font letters before making his eyes cross.

"No wonder Dark wears glasses.."

He did not know any bit of what it was saying. But he did see Bim's name on it.

"Let's get this over with." He hummed, getting the pen and began signing away. He knew that Dark would look back on the papers and seeing that Wilford had done them he would be proven wrong that the man wasn't responsible.

He would prove them all wrong.

.

.

[purplejabberwock]

hello! if you're still taking fanfic asks - 5, 11, & 20!

Game questions from this meme.

5. have you ever made a playlist about something you were writing as an elaborate means to procrastinate when you could have been actually writing and if yes drop a link, son

No, never. If I plonk my ass in my writing chair and struggle, then I know there's something else up that I need to address. 'Elaborate means to procrastinate', in my mind, reads as 'I am lying to myself about an issue that's stopping me from writing', and I'm not a particular fan of the phrase because it pretends that I'm not an autonomous being who can make poor choices and own them.

I don't avoid writing. I choose to write, or I don't. If I find myself distractible and make the considered choice to be gentle, that's something else. Sometimes the choice is a bad one, but at least it's one I made, not something I just 'let happen'. Sometimes it's a valid one, like now, because I'm close to moving day and Just Don't Have The Room In My Brain. But it's still a choice I'm making, not an avoidance.

More on-topic, though, playlists have never really been my thing. I have songs I associate with characters and occasionally locations, but I don't put them into a playlist. I do listen to music when I write, and it's almost always instrumental -- John Dreamer and Two Steps From Hell being particular favourites, but often soundtracks from various places. Victory (Two Steps From Hell) deserves a special mention for being my on-repeat song for a while.

I do have an instrumental song I associate with the Tir from DMW, and an instrumental for the Dead Men in particular, but unfortunately my sister gave me those on a ripped CD yonks ago and I have never known their names, so I can't point them out.

11. what’s something neat you’ve learned while doing research for something you were writing? also, how much do you worry about doing research in general?

Penis hats. (VERY NSFW.)

I love research. Learning about new things is one of the pleasures of writing, for me. The issue is that it can sometimes get in the way of writing: it's a skill to realise a quick research jaunt is actually turning out much longer and cut it short, and change what you intended to write if necessary. (This, more than playlists, is my risk in terms of accidental distractions.)

Most of the time I can keep to quick research jaunts, but sometimes I need to consciously set that aside, or leave up a load of tabs to look at another time or to reference later. I haven't yet found a way of collating links I'm satisfied with, because if I want to know something most times I'll just google it again, but you can usually tell what I'm writing by what kind of tabs I have up next to Atticus. I do exhibit browser hygiene (in terms of having a different browser 'account' for my writing stuff) so at least I can afford to keep the tabs there until I'm done with them.

For those interested, my current writing tabs. (Inclusive counting does my head in.)

20. what is your favorite trope to write?

'Someone died in canon and I Refuse'. What, that's not a real trope name? I'm not going to TVTropes to be Official, I'm no fool.

[wordtowords]

Why A.I. Won't Prevail in the Future

prevail - verb - prove more powerful than opposing forces; be victorious (Google). 

Lately, it seems to me that "artificial intelligence" is a topic of interest for many who depend much on technology. Personally, I know that a few of my former colleagues in education are quite distressed as their students are starting to purchase various programs that can literally compose essays for them. As a former English teacher, the question that initially registers in my mind is the following: What is the point of teaching writing when students can rely on their computers to do the work for them? Or just What is the point of education at all? Maybe when Trump proposed to eliminate the Department of Education, he was just responding to the latter question. Scary, I know. 

This particular blog's case in point isn't terribly obvious. Since A.I. is all about human invention (meaning humans feed knowledge to these robots), it is terribly imperfect. From my own experience, I am finding that the A.I. I use (Siri) is terribly stupid. She is far from error free. Just when the students are thinking they can get away with gross indolence, they can't because their teachers can tell that they are using A.I. due to its ignorance of the basics. The supposed "brains" who are feeding information to artificial intelligence know nothing about English grammar because they are most likely too young, products of the contemporary educational system that frowns on the direct instruction of the A, B, C's of the written word. These modern-day geniuses, who only paid attention in science classes when they attended secondary school, aren't experts in language. Does it make sense for imperfection to perpetuate imperfection? (Does anything make sense today?) No, no, no! 

On the flip side, I am hopeful, extremely hopeful that A.I. may just fail completely to make the billionaire techno mobsters more billions. I believe this could be an accurate prediction as I have been spending time with toddlers lately, yes, little kids, who are incredibly with it, sharper than the millennial tots whom I once spent many hours observing when my own daughter was that age. I totally think that today's inchoate generation won't have to depend on A.I. in the future after all, and they may even reject it in favor of the byproducts of past inventions, like that of the Gutenbergs'. This immature group finds books (yes, physical, hardcover books) to be fascinating and fun because their brilliant parents bestowed with common sense are making a sincere effort to keep them away from technology (iPads, etc.) by taking them to public libraries. No, I'm not kidding. I work with these little ones at a public library, so there. That has got to mean something. Albeit a small test group, I am hoping that it will soon represent a large portion of the majority. 

Parents, if you are introducing your children to the rudimentary, please keep it up before we as humans disintegrate and get swept up by machines that can hardly employ brooms correctly. And demand that your kids be taught English grammar when they get to school even if the current batch of teachers must return to classrooms themselves to learn it. Your infant Einsteins deserve to have their cerebral matter stimulated from this moment on. Together in this push, we will prevail. 

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