#hopefully I will make a part 2

[ginger-rat]

Assertiveness upgrade

[thepersonperson]

Sukuna’s Loneliness Part 4 (Sukuna’s Negative Rizz)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 5

Some warnings before we start.

1) This analysis deals with sexual topics.

2) I will be mainly using the TCB scans because of their accessibility. Raws are from mangareader(.)to.

3) This was written as of JJK 262 266. (I'm just going to keep updating this until I stop finding things I should've noticed earlier.)

4) The raws broke me in ways you cannot possibly imagine.

(Click images for captions/citations.)

Fighting as Communication

Baki the Grappler. This is a manga where men destroy each other’s bodies as a test of strength. It’s poorly written but the art is terrifying and I love it so dearly. Between fights of extreme violence and body horror the characters eat. And that’s it. That’s the manga.

I bring Baki up because Gege is a huge fan of Fujimoto Tatsuki, the creator of Chainsawman. Fujimoto is a fan of Gege too, but more importantly, he is a huge fan of Itagaki Keisuke, the creator of Baki. (His daughter made Beastars btw.) In a way, this means Jujutsu Kaisen has been influenced by Baki. But that’s not a surprise, a lot of manga is.

Itagaki’s work is so massively influetial on Japanese media that it’s kind of hard to grasp since it’s not as popular overseas. When listening to interviews from various Japanese creators, Baki will often be cited as a major influence. And the thing is, you can tell when a creative has read Baki. There’s nothing quite like it. If you’ve read Baki and consume Chainsawman, you will see its bones everywhere. I feel the same about Jujutsu Kaisen.

The main antagonist in Baki is Yujiro Hanma. He is the strongest creature alive. So much so that he has no one to call a rival. He’s bored. He causes trouble. He kills his wife to motivate his son, Baki into becoming stronger. His son, Baki, who he grooms into becoming a fighter that might beat him in combat one day. Kind of sounds like Sukuna, right?

But that’s not my point here. My focus is how Baki doubles as a discussion about strength and manhood. It’s aggressively bisexual. Men love each other with their fists. Straight up the main character says having sex with women is the same thing as fighting men.

And it just doesn’t stop there. The homoerotic nature of the fights is never shyed away from. Here’s an example of my favorite.

He grabs his balls and compliments their size. That’s pretty gay, right? Well there’s this reanimated prehistoric caveman called Pickle that fights Baki’s brother Jack. And how do they fight? They kiss.

I didn’t call it a kiss. Itagaki did. I didn’t say they melded together. Itagaki did. This mangaka overtly calls attention to the homoerotic nature of men fighting men, and how men communicate their love for each other through violence. And yes, it’s sexual. Itagaki wants you to read it that way.

But sometimes he doesn’t want you to read it that way. Sometimes the fights are a dialogue, an emotional conversation. Like one between father and son.

Itagaki is a master of narrative framing. When he wants you to feel a certain way, you will feel it. He also tells his readers that there’s more to the fights than just fighting.

Those are the ideas that help me see the bones of Baki in other works. Men loving men with violence. Men communicating with men through violence. I see these ideas in Jujutsu Kaisen too.

Jujutsu Communication

I’ve gone over how Yuji commucates with other people on their own terms. And a lot of it is through fighting. A conversation without words, learning how someone works. Yuji is good at using fights as tool of communication.

But he’s not the one who tells you that there’s more to the fights than just fighting. Maki does in her spar with the sumo guy.

Just like Baki. Fighting is a means of communication. Gege has told you that there can be more to the fights than fighting. It's a tool used to understand the self and others.

With that in mind, I want to reexamine a particular fight under the lens of Baki rather than Umineko.

Sukuna vs Gojo

Baki tells you that homoerotic readings of its fights are intentional. If you ask me, this probably stems from historical stances on masculinity and homosexuality in ancient Japan. Men loved men and women differently, but both were ok. That’s how Baki can have a girlfriend and his gay fights. Peak bisexual optimization.

What does Jujutsu Kaisen have to do with this? Well it has been extremely queer friendly. We have a multidue of canonical trans characters, non-binary characters, and other flavors of queer characters not disparaged for their identities, Gojo Satoru included. It may not be stated outright, but Gojo and Geto do love each other in a gay way. The subtext is so persisent it’s basically text.

In other words, Gege has already told us, yes please have queer readings of this text. It’s the same way Baki tells you, yes this is straight up convoluded gay sex. So that’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to reread the Sukuna and Gojo fight as some ridiculous mating display between two men who are fighting over can miscommunicate their intent the hardest.

Framed as Courtship

Let’s start with the framing. The pre-fight set up. How does text tell you queer readings are allowed?

Kenjaku does. It’s romantic. It’s a date. This reading has been made valid explicitly. And if there’s room for doubt because of the sarcasm? There’s still additional support for it.

We already know how badly in love Gojo is with Geto. The fight is on the 24th of December, the most romantic day in Japan. And in a fun little Geto parallel, who declared the start of war on this day, violence underlines this new romantic venture.

That doesn’t include Sukuna who recalls Yorozu’s words about teaching love in the context of marriage.

Gojo never heard that conversation which is why the next point is absolutely insane.

The outfit Gojo initially is in resembles that of a groom at a Shinto wedding.

Shinto weddings were implemented after the Heian era. Part of the ceremony includes a priest and a shrine maiden who respectively stand to the right and left of the altar. A purification ritual will occur, lead by the priest, to cleanse the shrine before vows are exchanged. Gakuganji is the priest and Utahime is the shrine maiden. To the right and left of Gojo respectively.

The bride at a Shinto wedding wears mainly white. After the 200% Hollow Purple cleanses the area, the dark shawl is removed and Sukuna remains in mostly white.

How interesting that this battle has been framed as one between groom and bride.

The thing is, marriage in the Heian era was far more lax. There were no major ceremonies. If a man was interested in marrying a woman, he would visit her for 3 nights after receiving approval from her father. Upon the passing of their 3rd night together, the family would have an informal celebration of their union in private. Even after marriage, multiple partners were allowed and sometimes encouraged.

Yorozu’s big celebration proposal to Sukuna and banning of concubines was quite improper by Heian standards. Though it is in line with modern marriages. If Sukuna did not consume any Shinto wedding literature, he probably didn’t recognize that Gojo was dressed as a groom.

But did Gojo dress this way for Sukuna intentionally? The Toji fit served an entirely different purpose. It’s the robes and pre-fight ceremony that catch my attention. So I propose the following:

1) Gojo dressed up as a groom to die and be wed with his one and only Geto in death.

2) Gojo dressed up as a groom in part as an offering to Sukuna. And because Sukuna is from the Heian era it went over his head entirely.

3) Gojo intended for both of these things at the same time and left who he would end up with to fate.

Regardless of what Gojo was going for here, it’s a visual cue combined with the knowledge of it being Dec 24th that encourages the reader to perhaps consider the fight as something other than just a fight. A date perhaps? Kenjaku made the connection and neither Gojo or Sukuna really denied it. Gojo gave the weak excuse of a death anniversary confusion. But much weirder, given how hostile he was to Yorozu, Sukuna did not object to the romantic framing in any capacity.

Am I reaching? Is this reading intentional?

When I start getting this confused by how a translated work wants me to read it, I try to refer to the original language text and anyone who knows it for missing context. Sometimes localizations add things that weren’t there or push readers towards one interpretation. So for the rest of this analysis, I’m going to be focusing on the raws.

I’m going to be honest. My Japanese fudging sucks. I can barely read kanji and can’t reliably translate anything. Feel free to correct me if I got something wrong. That being said, with what little I do know, I have discovered something interesting.

In this post I talked about how weird Sukuna’s manner of speech is. I focused on his you pronoun usage of お前 (Omae) for everyone else and 貴様 (Kisama) for Gojo since this is a strong indicator of how a character views their relationship to someone.

Here's a summary of the two points I made in that post:

1) Omae is informal and either a casual thing amongst peers or indicates the speaker's higher status. Since Sukuna is arrogant, we can reasonably assume he's talking down to people.

2) Kisama historically was a formal show of respect, but in modern times it is a hostile insult, much more rude than Omae. Since Sukuna is 1,000 years old and hates Yuji (who he uses Omae with), we can reasonably assume Sukuna was being friendly to Gojo when he used Kisama.

With that pronoun usage in mind, while examining the raws for the infamous “You Cleared My Skies” speech I found this:

Kisama. Sukuna is very happy and lavishing Gojo with praise. The assumption it was formal from the start seems to be correct. It's hard to read this any other way.

Though Japanese can easily be dubious in its interpretation, there are instances where context can cut off all other readings. I truly believe this one of those cases.

Now, to confirm Sukuna is still only treating Gojo this way I started looking at his you pronouns as he got excited post-Gojo death. Maki is the person he seems to admire the most.

He’s still just using Omae. What does that mean? Gojo is in his own fudging category for Sukuna and he has been there since the start of the manga. (For more on why this is significant, refer to this post.)

Wow ok. That’s pretty intense! We’ve got Gojo dressed up as a groom on December 24th and Sukuna treating Gojo different from anyone else. I read their fight again under the lens of explicit courtship and focused in on these specific panels.

Satisfaction. Now that’s a word that can easily carry a sexual connotation. Love as well. The parallel syntax fascinated me in English. So I decided to look at the raws and see how close they are.

Pretty much the same except for "the one who will teach you love" and "the one satisfying him now". Since the one being satisfied is Gojo by Sukuna, it really seems we can assume the one being taught love is Gojo by Sukuna.

Time to learn some Japanese again!

Kanji has multiple readings. Most have at least two. The Onyomi (Chinese) reading typically used for nouns and the Kunyomi (Japanese) reading typically used for verbs. (This is not always the case but it’s the basics.)

That’s probably why 満 is read as まん (man) when Gojo and Geto are talking about “satisfaction” using the On version and み (mi), the Kun version, when the narrator is talking about who “satisfies” who.

However 満 on its own does not mean satisfaction. It means full. To be filled. Or fullness. 足 (zoku) is added as a modifier after 満 to be read as satisfaction 満足 (manzoku). 足 usually means feet, but it can also mean to be sufficient. Manzoku therefore has a direct translation of being sufficiently full. It’s not a surprise a lot of food places in Japan use Manzoku in their names or advertising.

But what’s this? Why is this sentence written as 満たして or Mi(tashite) instead of 満足して or Manzoku(shite)? The addition of Zoku is what transforms Man into "satisfying". Without the Zoku, it’s just "fill". The means this sentence can be read as “The one filling him up now is—”

We’ve already established that the blank is Sukuna. The new problem is that he’s filling Gojo up. And boy, does that sound homoerotic to put it lightly. But perhaps I am reaching.

So I did what any sane person would do in this situation. I read hentai.

Surely if the phrase 満たして (mitashite) can carry a sexual connotation I will find it in hentai.

...

I immediately found a yaoi doujin called Fill me with your Big Love aka おっきな愛で満たして (Okkina Ai de Mitashite). Honestly, I found too many doujins about creampies specifically. (You have internet access verify this yourself.) When you search Manzokushite the results are much more in line with life satisfaction than sexual satisfaction. ...So Gege decided to use the more frisky phrasing.

Manzoku is also the name of an active sex toy manufacturer (I’m not linking them use a search engine.) and a discontinued adult entertainment news company. So the satisfaction Gojo and Geto talk about, along with Geto using 妬 (ya), the jealous kanji often used between lovers, is definitely probably carrying a sexual connotation too.

So, I’m not reaching. What the fudge did Gege mean by this?

Now that we've established that I am NOT reaching. What do we do with this information?

Well, we ruminate on the fight with the knowledge that Sukuna, of his own volition, decided to get Gojo off, probably.

I have forgiven Nanami for calling Gojo a pervert. If I watched someone bust a nut after being cut in half by his sworn enemy instead of saving the country, I too would be like what the fudge.

Anyways, the typical phrase used for an orgasm in Japanese is 行く(iku). It translates as to go. And yes it can mean to die, as in going to the other side. To die and go to heaven if you will. Which is what Gojo did with a big old smile on his face.

There’s also the term 心天 (tokoroten). It refers to a dish were a semi-opaque white substance is pushed through holes to create noodles. Literal translation using the kanji for heart 心 (kokoro) and the kanji for heaven 天 (ten). (Don’t ask me why them being smack together turns the Koroko into Tokoro. I don’t know.) Which in slang refers to prostate orgasms. This has nothing to do with this analysis I wanted to drop this fun fact in here. …And this image of Sukuna clutching his heart while looking at someone he sent to heaven.

(This is a reach but the idea of this being an elaborate gay pun amuses me greatly.)

I have another fun slang term: 賢者タイム (kenjataimu) which directly translates to sage 賢者 (kenja) time タイム (taimu). This refers to post-nut clarity sending someone into a meditative-like state.

Oh that’s a bit familiar. Sukuna was giving sagely advice to Kashimo and reflecting on satisfaction and love.

And what’s this? Mitashite has made a reappearance! Sukuna is saying “I’ve never thought about needing another person to fill me up.” Which 1. further supports the 'The one satisfying/filling him (Gojo) now is—Sukuna.' reading and 2. suggests Sukuna is a top suggests Sukuna really doesn’t have sexual interest in people. (Since the context of this convo is relationships and love.)

By the way. Acts of eating in Japanese can be modified to carry sexual meanings. It’s a bit more suggestive than English, but it carries over pretty well I think? 肉食系 (nikusokukei) refers to someone who aggresively pursues romantic or sexual relationships. Composed of the kanji 肉 (niku) for meat, 食 (ta) for eating, and 系 (kei) class. If you noticed, 食 isn’t usually read as Soku. It becomes Soku when paired with Niku for some reason. (I don’t know why someone please help me.) Side by side the kanji 肉食 (nikusoku) means meat-eater.

食 is still interesting on it’s own. The 食べる (taberu) reading is normal eating. The 食う(kuu) reading is an innuendo. It can mean to devour someone, like a cannibal, or devour someone sexually.

Sukuna has made it very clear that his eating of people is literal. There’s no innuendo. In fact, if you read into it, he’ll kill you (rip Yorozu and Kashimo).

Gojo, however, appears to be his sole exception to this rule. When Sukuna tells Kashimo not to spoil his pleasure he uses the kanji 興 (kyou). This of course can be directly translated as pleasure, but the Chinese reading of it can also indicate intense excitement or sexual arousal.

Sukuna is pretty good at double-entendre wordplay if his earlier stunts with the kanji for Enchain doubling as Megumi Activities if read a different way is anything to go by. He's a fan of Chinese literature. It's not a stretch to assume there's more going on here.

And if notoriously homophobic Reddit dudebros are posting things like this. Maybe there's a lot more merit to this reading than I can currently grasp.

I’m still pretty convinced Sukuna is aroace. That of course doesn’t bar him from pursuing romantic or sexual relationships. Sometimes there’s the one exception. Sometimes the desire to be with and please an allo partner allows for engagement of activities they aren’t into. Sometimes the actions are pursued without the emotional attachment because they physically feel good. There’s also the gray-scale and demi labels to consider.

With that in mind, I want to emphasize this all points to how important Gojo is to Sukuna regardless of sexuality. He tried to engage with and understand Gojo on terms he won’t for anyone else. And he’s been pursuing this connection relentlessly since the start of manga.

Sukuna’s Negative Rizz

Ok I established that reading the Sukuna vs Gojo fight as unhinged courtship is supported by the text. That doesn’t really say anything about Sukuna sucking at it.

But, my dear reader, that in of itself is proof of his negative rizz. I had to sit down. Learn about Heian era and Shinto wedding rituals, learn more Japanese, splice seemingly unrelated manga panels together, read hentai, and know that Gege is into yaoi to come to this conclusion. I had to rip every little shred of characterization and context apart and rearrange it into something comprehensible.

You know who can’t do that? Gojo.

As far as Gojo is concerned, Sukuna hates him. Kisama is an extremely hostile you pronoun in modern times. And if Gojo can’t tell Shoko (his closest friend after Geto) is stressed over him being used like a meat puppet by her visibly falling back on her addiction, he’s going to default to the assumption Sukuna hates him just as much as everyone else.

And Gojo does just that. He assumes he failed to reach Sukuna. Despite how often they did hand to hand combat and weaponized their knowledge of each other, Gojo believes they never had proper conversation through fighting. He dies not understanding Sukuna, convinced the other was not trying to communicate with him at all.

And if you recall, all of this fight occurred while Sukuna was wearing Megumi’s face. That boy is pretty much Gojo’s adopted child. From my experience, most single parents do not go looking for clones of their kids as partners.

If someone wore the skin of my family member I would assume they were trying to torment me. And torment Gojo Sukuna does. He draws attention to Megumi’s soul being used as collateral and attacks him with the 10 Shadows. We as the audience know this is all for the sake of getting past Infinity using his Shrine. Gojo doesn’t know that. He’s fighting an evil dude who is puppeting the body of his son for god knows what reason.

Seriously, Sukuna sucks at communicating intent.

In Part 3 of my examination of Sukuna’s loneliness, I said Dismantle is a tool Sukuna uses to understand. And that him upgrading it by making Gojo the center of his world was indicative of his desire to reach him. I also said his refusal to use it on Yorozu was him expressing how little interest he had in her.

Yorozu is pissed by this. She sees it as Sukuna rejecting her and I don’t think she’s wrong. Sukuna saved his special Cursed Technique (CT) for Gojo while turning Yorozu down. If we’re considering all the wedding imagery and references that started with Yorozu, I’m certainly allowed to read that as him saving himself for Gojo. (Think of how he lied to Gojo about being the first one he killed.)

There’s also the fact that Yorozu saw their battle as an expression love and lust—that the usage of CT is a type of foreplay under certain circumstances since it is an extension of the self. Combine that with the established premise that fighting is a type of a communication thanks to Maki vs Sumo Guy and you can start to see the courtship logic behind Sukuna’s treatment of Gojo.

If we are to read “The one who will teach you love is…Sukuna” there’s another adorable caveat. Yorozu uses the you pronoun あなた (Anata) for Sukuna.

It’s an informal you pronoun used by people learning Japanese. Native speakers try to avoid using it as it can come across as rude. But in the context of love? This is colloquially called the wife pronoun as its often used by a wife to her husband.

If you wanted to localize its usage in the way Yorozu means it, Anata might become “you, dear”. So here we have Sukuna dressed in white, like a bride to Gojo’s groom, thinking of him as Anata.

The problem is, Gojo doesn’t know that. Sukuna never bothered to open his mouth and say this was an act of love. Sure he told Kashimo in the most roundabout way possible, but Gojo was the one who needed to hear that. If a courtship is going to be this diabolically complicated, there has to be clear hints for the other party. JJK is not Umineko where there’s a witch that can revive the dead over and over until the idiot finally understands this was all for them.

Gojo also doesn’t have access to the kanji Sukuna uses to describe certain techinques or words. He hears the phonetics and runs with whatever best fits the context. This means there’s no way for him to catch the double-meaning unless he’s a certain type of lingust, which he is not. His manner of speech and personal interests don’t line up with the flowery language of the Heian Era. The types of written works Gojo is into are historical war politics from the Sengoku period (known for violence more than the fine arts), Shonen manga, and physics/math.

And what's this? According to CFYOW (the canon light novels): JJK Thorny Road at Dawn, Chapter 3 Asakusabashi Elegy, Gojo doesn't even like ancient poetry. You know, the thing Sukuna enjoys and tries to communicate with.

The Kokin Wakashu Gojo off-handedly disparages is a compilation of Hiean Era poetry known as Waka. This was the primary means of communication amongst the noble class and spiritual leaders at the time. And the thing is, this poetry is supposed to be read into. Down to the quality of stroke and paper, not just the kanji written. Especially for courtship.

It’s not that Gojo is stupid. He just doesn’t specialize in the studies that would give him a more critical ear to Sukuna's words. And Sukuna doesn’t seem to understand that no one in the modern era communicates like this anymore.

If you didn’t know, this is why Japanese characters introduce themselves they often describe what kanji their name is spelled with. Take for example: Satoru. He uses the kanji 悟 meaning enlightenment. This kanji can be read as Go instead of Satoru. Additionally, the name Satoru can be written in kanji as 聡 for smart, 智 for wisdom, 知 for knowledge, 了 for understanding, 哲 for philosophy, 聖 for virtuous, or 暁 for daybreak. That’s 8 different kanji possible if you hear the name Satoru.

This is why Sukuna’s wordplay for everything else can be easily missed by other characters. They hear the words and cannot read the kanji like us. Context decides what Sukuna means for them. And since Sukuna’s context for most is violence and insults, it’s very hard for them to think about his words in any other way.

And boy howdy does Gojo miss it. Sukuna straight up calls him his husband and it took me several rereads to catch it. While mocking Gojo for being unable to open his domain, Sukuna calls him "painfully ordinary". This is localized from the word 凡夫 (bonpu) which can also be translated as unenlightened. (A layered insult! Sukuna is pretty much saying Gojo's sorcery is so boring he shouldn't even call himself the Honored One.)

The thing is...Bonpu is comprised of the 2 kanji 凡 for mediocre, and 夫 for husband. (Please note that there are many other ways to call Gojo a ditz without using the kanji for husband.) And an update from the Replies: Turns out there's layers to the gayness too.

It's come full fudging circle. Gojo came dressed as a groom for a wedding and Sukuna thinks they're already married. The miscommunication is off the rails.

But wait! There's more...

Earlier I mentioned that the kanji for Enchain doubles as Megumi Activities. Let's break that down more. (Unfortunately the Twitter account of the person I referenced may or may not be nuked so here's this screenshot I've doctored.)

So we have the translation of Enchain from 契闊 (Keikatsu), which might be better localized as Separation.

This term comes from a Chinese poem about lovers who are husband and wife in The Book of Odes, Section I (Lessons from the States), Chapter 3 (The Odes of Bei), Poem 31 (Banging the Drum). (Here's a link to the full poem and context of it.)

In summary, it’s about a soldier who is on the brink of death, having lost nearly everything after being abandoned by those in power, lamenting the happiest days of his life with his love are ones he can never get back. (Hey that sounds just like what Sukuna did to Yuji!)

Keikatsu specifically comes from this passage:

“Our vow is beyond death and life”, I and you are together I always remembered. I will hold your hand, And together we grow old.

Too pitiful we are faraway apart, The distance separates us to meet again! Too miserable this takes forever, And it does not let us fulfill our vow!

Keikatsu is used to exemplify how the physical distance between the husband and wife prevents them from fulfilling their wedding vows. And that's just what Keikatsu/Enchain does to Yuji and Megumi, it causes painful separation neither of them wanted.

Keikatsu also tells Yuji exactly how Sukuna plans to do it. 契(kei)闊(katsu) can be written as 恵(kei)活(katsu). The kanji 恵 can be read as Kei or...Megumi. (It's the literal kanji used for his name.) The kanji 活 (katsu) can mean "activities", which is how we get Enchain=Megumi Activities.

A two for one special! Sukuna mocks Yuji for being so close with Megumi while telling him exactly how he's going to destroy their relationship.

It seems this has nothing to do with Gojo until you consider the 3rd possible reading from wordplay with 契闊 (Keikatsu). The kanji 契 when read as Kei refers to a promise, pledge or vow. When 契 read as Chigi? It can refer to sexual intercourse, especially between husband and wife.

So we have 契闊(keikatsu, separation), 恵(kei Megumi)活(katsu, activities), and 契(kei chigi, spousal sex)活(katsu, activities). It's no wonder he erased Yuji's memory of it.

Keep in mind, that when Sukuna uses Keikatsu, the only vow that he has made at this point is his promise to kill Gojo. He eventually does that using Megumi's body during a fight framed between groom and bride. And for reasons beyond their control, Sukuna and Gojo have been unable to fulfill that vow through lengthy separation.

Notes from poem "Banging the Drum" Sukuna references include the following:

"And during the operation, he lost his horse, which was a desperate situation (horses in ancient time carried soldier supply and weapons, are life companion for soldiers in advance or retreat), he lost his horse, his supply, maybe his armor and weapons, and the road he was facing that we may lose his life so he may never go back. In all these mess, he started searching, and somehow at this hopeless moment he started to revisit his happiest moment, when he together vowed in marriage ceremony with his wife, and he was even afraid that he might never see his love again."

"And His last statement for his true value is his home, his love, his fulfillment of his vow is his true duty. Hero's duty is to pursue love."

In Buddhism, which JJK is heavily influenced by, horses are a pretty big deal. Horses can represent the path to enlightenment, especially since The Buddha's horse is what takes him on this journey away from his wife and children. They separate in the end though, the horse dying of a broken heart.

Remember how Sukuna called Gojo unenlightened? He sort of guided Gojo to enlightenment using Mahoraga, whose Eight-Handed title is a reference to the Eightfold Path to be followed for enlightenment. Buddhist enlightenment is centered around liberation from suffering. (Just check the wiki entry to verify this.) Infinity was the source of Gojo's suffering and Sukuna cut right through it.

Sukuna has been running around with a broken heart for a good chunk of the post-Gojo fight. And if you take that into consideration with this poem and all the other symbolism, he's somehow a Buddha, a Bodhisattva, the dying husband, the widowed wife, and the heartbroken horse all at the same time. Not unlike his wordplay taking on every possible meaning at once.

But my point here is that Sukuna might’ve seen his fight with Gojo as consummation of their marriage. (There's probably a joke in here about the husband reaching climax while leaving his wife unsatisfied.) Remember in the wise words of Itagaki Keisuke, "Fighting and sex are exactly the same!"

In Conclusion?

This is possibly one of the most bizarre and elaborate expressions of love I have lost my mind over. Sukuna gave everything Gojo ever wanted from Jujutsu violently. He did it in such an unpleasant and cruel way that the target of his affection thought there was nothing between them. Sukuna also hid his intent under social norms that no longer exist. Unless Gojo happened to be into ancient literature, there was never a scenario where he would catch onto this. Sukuna's failure is critical on multiple levels.

It’s impressive. It really is. No one knows how Sukuna’s strange little brain works so he’s stuck being loner without anyone that fully understands him. (I’m still thinking about how Uraume didn’t know Sukuna was a twin for over 1,000 years.) He’d have to let people in and tell him outright, but he’s just like Gojo so I guess that’s never happening.

[galactica7071]

there's HOW MANY of these idiots now???!

[northern-passage]

a little update.. what i'm working on/prologue changes so far:

no prologue! it’s chapter 1 now

removed the option to leave clementine behind. you have to take them with you :3c

removed height options (sorry!)

in general, edited the cc to flow better

combat preferences have been adjusted-- all still the same but i've made it more obvious how each specialty works mechanically which will hopefully make fights more intuitive to win (or lose, if you want)

genderlocked the sibling. officially a Sister

edited a LOT of dialogue; hopefully it's an improvement and feels more natural

restructured the wraith fight so that it's consistent with the fight in blackwater. with the changes made to the combat preferences this should make the combat system overall cohesive now <- i'm still working on this currently but i am HOPING to finish it by the end of this month.

i have pretty much rewritten the entire prologue. wasn't my plan at the start but here we are... so things are quite different. but also the same. i also streamlined a lot of the choices & branches and cut/combined ones that i felt were just excessive.

i plan to update once i've finished making & importing these changes, and i will probably limit the demo to chapter 1 (previously the prologue) until i get through and edit chapter 2 (previously chapter 1) because i really don't want to have the demo be inconsistent for however long it takes me to get through the next edits. hopefully this will not take that long, and then i'll put chapter 2 & and part 1/what's already been published of chapter 3 back up. and then!!! i will move on to finishing chapter 3.

i know this probably isn't the update you all were hoping for but i'm excited for the next steps with tnp :-)

[lovesickeros]

☆ de fontaine

{☆} characters furina {☆} notes cult au, imposter au, drabble, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings angst, suicidal thoughts, hurt / no comfort {☆} word count 1.4k

This wasn't fair. This wasn't fair. This wasn't fair!

She thought, for one moment, she could put the mask down and breathe – for one moment of daydreaming, she thought she could just be Furina. She thought she would finally get to live the live she should've had in the first place, the life she threw away to play God to an audience who saw her as nothing but a circus animal, dancing to their whims. Furina just wanted to be selfish for one brief and fleeting moment..and it was gone before she could even grasp it in her hand. A comet soaring past far out of her reach.

She can barely keep her hands from violently shaking as she looks down at them – broken and bloody and more a corpse then a person – and she feels so numb she can't even feel the rain pelting against her back. None of this is fair, she wants to scream, why is it always me? But her voice is silent beneath the torrent of rain. She wonders if the ocean would take her if she sank into it's depths – just for a moment, she wonders how it would feel to finally be able to sleep at ease.

Furina is tired.

But Furina is nothing if not useful, isn't she?

So she forces her feet to move, dragging against the stone beneath her heels, and drags their bloodied body into the nearest empty building, letting the rain do the work of washing away the smeared blood following her path. The smell makes her feel sick, the feeling of it sticking to her hands and gloves makes her lightheaded, but she persists. Because Furina is useful, because Furina won't let them die out in the rain, because Furina won't stand by and just let them rot on the streets like some..pest.

Furina wants to go home. She wants to sleep and she isn't she if she wants to wake up, this time. But she keeps going anyway.

Because it's all she's ever done, and the habit sticks.

An Archon she may not be, not anymore, but the expectations of five hundred years still linger like eyes on the inside of her skull. They watch her, pry and prod at her thoughts, mocking laughter and judging eyes following her as she forces herself to dance to the song they weave with glee. Furina never stepped off that stage – she's still there, she thinks, watching the crowd stare at her in disdain as the curtain call looms above her like a guillotine. She still hears Neuvillette deliver her damnation and salvation with a trembling voice, still feels her hair stand on end when electro crackled like the crack of the whip, Clorinde's blade aimed at her like a loaded gun.

She's trapped on that stage and she never left, not really.

She hates it. She thinks she hates them, but it's not their fault. They didn't ask for this, didn't ask for everyone to turn against them, didn't ask for her to save them. Neither did she..yet here they are, she thinks.

She tries to tell herself she's in control this time, though. She can stop performing her part in this horrible, bloody play any time she wants. It makes her feel better, just for a little while, if she convinces herself she's still Furina, painfully human.

And Furina has always been good at lying.

It's the believing that's the hard part.

There isn't time for her to wallow in her own self pity, though. They're still bleeding out onto the dusty, creaky floorboards of some random, broken down house and she's just standing there as the blood stains the wood. She can fix it – she's good at fixing things. She's done nothing but fix things – try to, anyway – for five hundred years. She can fix a little wound, how hard could it be? Her hands are clenched so tight they ache as she kneels down, wincing at the creak of the floorboards beneath her heels– she hesitates just long enough to wonder if she's making a mistake before she peels away just enough of the outer layer of their clothes to see the deep, bloody gash across their chest. She tries not to think about it – it's deep, too deep, and she feels dizzy just looking at it, but she's handled worse, right?

Furina can fix it. That's what she's good at.

She doesn't feel so confident when she tries to wrack her brain for..something. Five hundred years, and a little wound stumps her? No, she had to have learned something, right? She's decidedly not trying to buy time because she's panicking, parsing through hundreds of years of memories like flipping through a book. Furina isn't made for this, not really – she's running on nothing but adrenaline and she's really not sure what she's doing, but she's trying. And just like before, it won't be enough, will it?

She'll fall short again – she'll be too late to fix it before she's alone again.

Furina was an Archon..used to be. What use would she have for that sort of knowledge? Which makes her predicament all the more harrowing and bleak. What was she supposed to do?

Furina had heard it first hand, that vitriol in Neuvillette's voice. She isn't sure she's ever heard him that..angry before. She's not sure he would listen to her if she tried, either. And that scares her more then anything. All of Fontaine was up in arms about this..imposter, yet here she was, staring down at them bleeding out in front of her, and she was trying to save them.

Why? Why is she throwing away her only chance at normalcy for a fraud? Why didn't she just turn them in?

They were dying – that should've been a good thing, shouldn't it? So why didn't it feel like it?

"Why you?" Her voice breaks as she speaks in harsh tones, grabbing the front of their shirt in trembling, bloodied hands. "Why now?" She wants to scream, to demand answers they can't give, to claw back the reprieve she was promised after five hundred years of agony..and all she can do is sob into their chest, pleading for an answer that will not come. "Why me?"

Silence is their answer, and it hangs heavy on her trembling shoulders as she cries.

Of course they don't, she thinks bitterly, no one has ever answered her pleas spoken in hushed sobs. Not her other self and certainly not them.

Furina has always been alone. Furina will always be alone.

Because Furina never left that stage, never left that moment when she looked at herself in the mirror and took up a mantle too heavy for her to bear. She always finds her way back eventually. There's no one on the other side anymore – she stands alone on a stage, waiting for an inevitable end she isn't sure will come.

"Please," She pleads through tears and choked sobs, clinging to them like they are all that keeps her from sinking. "Please don't leave me, too." The words burn on her tongue – how pathetic is she that she craves companionship from the bloodied body of the imposter? Perhaps she's truly lost her mind after all these years..perhaps she's finally gone mad. She must have.

But their presence is like the first feeling of gentle warmth upon her skin as the sun crests the horizon, like the gentle lap of tides along her heels, the sway of branches and leaves as the wind blows through them like an instrument all it's own. They are the soothing sound of rain against the window as she watches the dreary skies in fond longing, the first bloom of spring as color blooms upon the landscape like paint had been spilled across the hills and valleys.

They are like the faint spark she carefully nurtures and stokes, so fragile even the smallest wind could blow it out like a candle. She cradles it within her palms, pleads with whoever will listen – prays that someone finally listens, because if not for her, then for them.

She's failed to protect too much already, let too many people with so much trust in her fall between the cracks of her fingers like grains of sand. She won't let them go – she can't.

If nothing else, if she couldn't be saved when she begged for salvation from that five hundred year long agony, even if she never got that chance..

Furina will make sure they do.

[mastercrownmonday]

this is a rage bait/discourse blog now btw (i will draw today's kirbtober prompt tomorrow when im not sleepy, inshallah)

[crescentmoonrider]

a rewrite

« You were always obsessed with fixing your physical differences, but they weren’t weaknesses. They made you who you are. »

« You do not understand. »

« What ? »

« It isn’t – it was never about my body, but rather about the environment that made it this way. Polluted water from Piltover’s waste, air so toxic that enforcers don’t come down without a gas mask on, poverty so abject you couldn’t even imagine it. So much unnecessary suffering… All so that Piltover can keep itself safe and above it all, at the cost of standing on the corpses of Zaun’s people. This is what it’s about, Jayce. Equality, to save us all from humanity’s selfish desires. »

« You have it backwards, Viktor. All this pain and suffering, they’re the reason we fight to make a better world, where people can be people, all different and yes, selfish sometimes, but caring, too. A society of equals, not because they’re all the same, but because they’re all different and yet cared for anyway in the ways they need it. It’s not humanity that has to change, it’s this world that makes us suffer unjustly. All you’ll end up doing if you keep up on this path is destroy everything you’re trying to build, and then… then you’ll find yourself all alone, on a pile of corpses. »

« How would you know that ? »

« Because you told me. »

[moonetta]

Do you ever think about young Hitomiko losing her little brother ☹️☹️ I do

Design inspired by this adorable art https://pin.it/57rRkR0xE (i know hitomiko persuaded her father to make sun garden as an adult but shhhhhh) ((the hair clip is canon tho! She looks so cute!)))

[galadriel-blue]

I want Celeborn to be present in The Rings of Power and here’s why:

A lot of people love Celeborn more than I thought, so it gave me the confidence to post why I want him to be in the show and what I think his character should be like. Hopefully this is coherent. There may be mistakes despite me proofreading it 100,000 times haha! I kind of rambled here, but I hope my fellow Celeborn enjoyers like my random thoughts nonetheless. Share your thoughts with me because I'd love to hear them!

(p.s. I finally watched the new episodes, so this post will have small mentions of The Rings of Power Season 2, so if you don't want spoilers, don't read!)

I don’t care when they introduce him. I’m secretly hoping it’s soon, but if it’s not, I simply hope they bring him in eventually. But when they do make his introduction, I hope they do it well. And by well, I mean that I hope they don’t water down his character, and his relationship with Galadriel, just to make Sauron the better love interest.

Now, do not jump to conclusions about my opinion just yet. I am not slandering the ever-popular ship of Haladriel/Saurondriel. It may be true that I have a love-hate relationship with the pairing, but that is a topic for a different post. If I am completely honest, I don’t see anything romantic between Galadriel and Halbrand/Sauron. I can recognize the undertones, which I sort of mention in this post, but I personally see the pairing as a non-romantic bond. If you are a Haladriel/Saurondriel shipper, know that I love you and appreciate you, and even though I have complicated feelings surrounding the ship, I am eating up all of the content that is being created for it. You guys are amazing. Seriously.

With that disclaimer out of the way, I will now discuss my thoughts…

When Celeborn arrives in the Rings of Power, I want him to be like Halbrand/Sauron, but slightly to the left. Let me explain.

What makes Sauron and Galadriel’s dynamic so appealing is their bond. How they have been and become connected by fate to be the opposites to each other. He binds her to power, his power, and she binds him to the light. It’s such an interesting connection: Two people, two enemies, bound together by some unspeakable force, bringing them closer in a circle that seems like it’s unbreakable. Many find romance hiding between the lines, and while I do think there is a romantic temptation there, it’s been doomed to fail from the start.

Because when we face it, we see how one-sided it is. Sauron may hold love for Galadriel, but it is only in the way that she makes him feel about himself. She was the first one to forgive him, despite her not knowing who he was at the time, and she was the only one who made him feel like what he was doing was good. His desire to keep her for himself is entirely selfish. He may promise her power, but it’s not her own. It’s his. And even if she did join him, there would be no sense of equality between them. He would always hold more, and in turn, he would hold Galadriel back. Even if at some point he did (or does) feel a true romantic attraction for her, it still would never work because his lust for power, and love for himself, will always be stronger no matter what Galadriel makes him feel.

But it is tempting for Galadriel to want this power because he twists it so beautifully. He is a deceiver, and he catered his deception to her desires. Galadriel likes to be in control. She likes to be strong. She likes to be a leader. Combining that with her stubborn nature and her unsteady, grief-stricken mind, it is no surprise that she fell under Sauron’s spell. Not to mention, he turned himself into exactly what she needed at the time. Someone who pushed her, someone who didn’t hold her back. Sauron became the most ideal partner in the most toxic way because he only became that for her in order to achieve what he wanted. He was using her the whole time, regardless of the feelings he developed as he got to know her, which makes their dynamic so incredibly complex.

Because that’s what evil people do. They convince you that they are your friend and that what they’re doing to you is good, and when you contradict them, they cast the blame onto you. “Sauron lives because of you.” Suddenly it’s Galadriel’s fault for finding a connection with him in the first place. Because she resisted him, it is now her burden to bear all of his hatred inside of her. She’s the one to blame. He makes it her fault that he lives because she was strong enough to push the darkness away. Now he is making it a point to haunt her with darkness wherever she goes by filling her with guilt.

And part of her hates him for it but part of her wants him back. “I felt it too.” She keeps thinking back on that moment because it felt good to be understood for once, after thousands of years of people telling you that you were wrong and that you needed to stop. She felt loved and seen with him.

So basically, I want Celeborn to be Halbrand if Halbrand was just a bit softer and wasn’t a master manipulator hiding behind the guise of a nice, attractive man.

Galadriel and Celeborn are bound by an invisible string too, they just don’t know it yet. The Silmarillion describes that they “had great love between them.” I don’t want the show to erase that. We saw how she spoke so fondly of Celeborn as she reminisced with Theo. She spoke of a glimpse of who she was before the war, with a faraway look and tears in her eyes. Galadriel was a woman in love, one who danced outside in fields of flowers and had a sense of humor, even as she was watching her beloved being sent away to a battle they did not believe would last so long. She thought she lost her love.

She literally thinks Celeborn is dead, and it tears her heart apart. Because in my mind, Celeborn was the only other person who truly saw her, other than Finrod and now Halbrand. And Morfydd even said it in an interview where they asked her about Celeborn. She said that there is a part of Galadriel that isn’t awake because she believes her husband to be dead. Because of his supposed death, the quote, “softest part of her” has been closed and hopefully Celeborn will return and make her feel safe again. How tragically sad and romantic is that?

Galadriel’s heart is lonely. She doesn��t know Celeborn is still out there. That’s another reason why it was so easy for her to open her heart to Halbrand. I feel like a part of her saw what she used to have in Celeborn in him. Then, it was so easily torn apart, and she was hurt again after being built up. What a blow to her self-esteem and her mind.

In Celeborn’s character, I want him to be similar to Halbrand in certain ways. I want him to be clever and strong. Perhaps even a little bit stubborn himself. I want to see him as a man who pushes Galadriel to be the best version of herself and keeps her in check when she starts running too a bit too fast, (but not so much that we take away the spitfire that Galadriel is) as Halbrand did for her on Numenor. I want to see him as someone who challenges her brain. Allows her to make plans but helps her navigate when things become difficult. I don’t want Celeborn to be someone who holds Galadriel back because her steadfast nature is what I love most about her. Her ability to be emotional is something I want Celeborn to support. I want him to be a bit of a dork who loves his wife no matter what. I see Celeborn as someone who is sweet, tender, and kind, but that doesn’t take away from his own strength. I want him to be all of Halbrand’s best traits because then we would see why it was so easy for Galadriel to fall sway to her enemy’s schemes. It would also just be super interesting to watch how two different people, with similar personality traits, both had a connection (and fell in love if you like the Haladriel route) with the same person and both followed different life paths. Celeborn as good and true despite the darkness in Galadriel, and Halbrand, is the darkness among the light that Galadriel holds.

This is why I hope they cast someone who looks like Charlie Vickers a bit because maybe she found comfort in a “familiar” face. It would make sense why she was so quick to trust Halbrand if she saw the traits of someone who loved her the most behind his eyes.

And here’s another thing. I don’t want Celeborn to be used to diffuse Galadriel’s personality. I keep seeing arguments (mainly angry YouTube men) use Celeborn to hate on Haladriel and to make Galadriel fit their ideals of what her character “should be” in their minds.

All of the dudebros sitting in front of their computers, arguing against Haladriel/Sauron by using Celeborn as their point of reason (“Why add enemies to lovers?? It doesn’t make sense to the canon blah blah blah”) only want Celeborn in the show to reel Galadriel in. They hate Haladriel because it denies canon, but they want Celeborn to be the main focus instead of Galadriel, because strong female characters can’t exist in the Tolkien universe without a man apparently.  And they use “canon” as their scapegoat, but what’s the deeper message they’re spilling? They can’t stand seeing a female character being badass (excuse my language) without a man to back her up in the way they want to see it. In their eyes, Galadriel is supposed to be soft, ethereal, quiet, mystical, and never fighting in armor. They want her to be their perfect male fantasy of what a mysterious woman should be. But are we forgetting how she banished Sauron in The Hobbit? Everyone acts like Galadriel was never a fighter, but we see her use her immense power to send away to greatest evil she’s ever seen. Where is the logic??

These people who insist Celeborn be introduced, simply to be the “proper love interest because that’s what canon says” are completely missing the point of his character. Their version of Celeborn is soaked in prejudice because they want him to be the stereotypical man to hold Galadriel back and take away all of her stubbornness and strength (I.e. the parts of her that make her such a relatable character for me). That is not the Celeborn I want.

I want a Celeborn that enhances and supports the traits that Galadriel already had from the start of season one, and the traits she will continue to have as the series progresses. Heck, I want these traits that she possesses to be the reason he fell in love with her in the first place. Galadriel is feminine, and regal, with an heir of beauty, but she is also clever, quick-witted, and even quick to anger. She’s not a picture-perfect woman, and I love it. And I bet Celeborn loves it too. I’ll say it again: “There was great love between them.” Great love comes with knowing every part of a person, even what we consider bad, and loving them despite of it. Regardless of how they bring him in, or if they do at all, I want him to be a strength for her, without getting rid of all of the parts of her character that made me love her in the first place.

The difference between Galadriel and Halbrand and Galadriel and Celeborn is that while Haladriel’s dynamic is centered around selfishness (from both of them desiring power and possibly each other so much so that it blinds them) Galadriel and Celeborn could be centered around selflessness. I mean, we see it in their story. When Galadriel eventually decides to go to Valinor, Celeborn doesn’t make her feel bad for leaving. He is understanding and compassionate. He respects her decision. And she respects him for staying behind. He returns to her eventually, but in their time apart there is no hatred.

I am not saying that the Haladriel ship is selfish, I am just saying that the two characters are selfish. I am analyzing the characters in the ship, not the ship and the shippers, so please keep that in mind.

Both Galadriel and Halbrand/Sauron are obsessed with each other (albeit in slightly differing ways) which makes them do things they can’t control.

Galadriel pleads with Elrond to help her in S2. “I can’t let him in again.”

“He never left Galadriel.”

She knows the control Sauron has over her is too strong. She knows it’s bad, but she still wants it. It’s unhealthy and wrong, but the heart follows where it wills when it is weak. Galadriel needs support and I hope we will eventually see Celeborn provide it.

The thing I am most afraid of is that they will turn Celeborn into an easily dislikable character, simply because they are following what most of the fans want. It’s not a bad thing to cater to an audience, but if they butcher his character for the sake of it, then I will be greatly disappointed. I want Celeborn to have just as much depth as Galadriel, and I want their relationship to have as much depth as Haladriel does. I don’t want Celeborn to be perfect, and I don’t want Galadriel to be either. I want their relationship to have flaws, but I also want to see the great love between them.

Galadriel is going through some complicated emotions. She’s experiencing the most dramatic situationship of all time. Perhaps that will hurt Celeborn in some ways, watching how his lover is tempted by another man, and I want to see that. But I also want to see him strengthen her in the process, by helping her through it instead of abandoning her. Even though it hurts him. Even though it hurts her. Because let’s face it, the best relationships are built on communication, and when one person makes a mistake, you don’t just get up and run when things get tough. You battle through it. The good and the ugly. Until one day, your connection is stronger because of it.

To sum it up, I ship Galadriel and Celeborn, and I can’t wait to see their dynamic onscreen, whenever it ends up happening. I just hope they do it right. I feel like such an unpopular TROP fan when I talk about them, because in all honesty, I favor Celadriel much more than Haladriel/Saurondriel, and we all know between the two what the most popular ship is. That’s not to say I don’t get excited when I see moments between Galadriel and Halbrand that could be interpreted as romantic, or when my friends post Haladriel fanfiction with so much enthusiasm. I eat that stuff up because I love it when people get excited about what they love. I just hope there are people out there who will be excited when it’s my ship's turn to shine, or when I gush about the Celadriel fanfictions I am bound to post.

 Like I said before, I have complicated feelings about Haladriel/Saurondril that I will explain at some point, (and again, I am not a Haladriel hater by any means) but I want to explain my opinion of it right because I just know some people will come after me if I say something that disagrees with them. I want to be delicate okay-

I don’t even know if I explained my thoughts on Celeborn clearly, but I hope I can find some people who understand where I’m coming from with this. The moment Galadriel talked about Celeborn, how he saw her dancing, and how he looked like a silver clam in his armor, I fell in love with the ship. That may make me the odd one out, but perhaps I’ll discover some people who feel the same about them.

Feel free to discuss your thoughts with me! I’d love to hear them! (If you disagree, make sure to make your point respectfully please-)

[0v3rcast]

Gnaw (2)

(Warnings: same as the previous chapter, found here.)

One of the largest issues with going from a simulated Teyvat to an actualized Teyvat is the sheer size.

The bridge outside of Mondstadt, which takes the Traveler like fifteen seconds to cross in a sprint? That's a good two minutes of walking at the least.

The rest of Mondstadt is massive, too, of course, but it's absolutely gorgeous. Perfect grass, clear rivers and ponds, rather imposing cliffs...

Maybe the people are a little unfriendly, but hey! The land itself makes up for your now-in-the-negatives social life.

Besides, this much air and sunlight are probably a good thing. You aren't too hot, there isn't like half of a forest worth of pollen up your nose, the breeze is really nice, and nobody's come to try and maul you!

As far as sightseeing tours go, this ain't the best. But it'll do.

Plus, you're pretty sure that the theoretical tour guide probably wouldn't let you pull up all the dandelions you wanted and blow on them to make their seeds go everywhere.

There's a faint gnaw in the pit of your stomach. You've eaten some berries, a carrot you found in a crate, and another Sunsettia, but you just can't shake the feeling.

The best way your mind can think to describe it is that your teeth are dissatisfied. You didn't do enough with this meal. It just sorta happened.

Perhaps you're going insane.

(On a distant cliff, the wind brings your breathing to an Archon, who sets down his lyre and raises a bow.)

There is a faint whistle on the air, one you swear you've heard before. Then it hits you - the sound of an arrow!

By some instinct, you hurl yourself aside, slamming into the grass and dirt.

A brilliant arrow is lodged into the ground at an angle that would have firmly made itself at home in the back of your skull. Had you not just launched yourself aside, you would be dead.

And then you hear another whistle.

You scramble up onto your feet and take off in a dead sprint. Anemo-powered arrows narrowly miss you four times as you zig-zag and duck behind stones or trees.

...you think you know who this is, or at least have a damn good idea.

Venti. Barbatos. Tone-deaf bard. Alcoholic lyre dude. That one.

You curse him out under your breath. The arrows seem to be coming faster all of a sudden.

The next arrow doesn't come down with a whistle. It comes down with a scream. The Anemo-charged arrow, cloaked in a blade of wind, pierces your back and launches you through the woodlands with enough force to demolish trees like matchsticks.

You skid to a stop, a fine path of devastation and upturned soil behind you, and your head lolls up on a shattered neck to stare blankly into the sky as you slip away into darkness.

(Dendro hisses at the other elements, their vast roots curling in anger. "We should have kept them out until this was solved!"

The others say nothing. Talking will do little to protect you, and those who raise their hands against you must be punished.)

Barbatos has a nightmare that night, after killing the one who stole the face of the World-Shaper.

He has been torn from his false face, cast into the heart of a vast hurricane, the wind itself screaming in hatred and rage, every whisper now purely poisonous. Every failure mocked, every mistake repeatedly shoved into his face, and every sin accounted for.

The wind wails, slipstreams like claws raking across his elemental flesh, battering him as he's tossed from gust of wind to gust of wind.

(He is unaware that to any observer, it would look like he was a rather hated captive ball in the world's most esoteric pinball machine.)

A voice tears itself from the monstrous storm around him, echoing in the bone-shuddering blasts of thunder.

Vile little wisp! You would dare to raise a hand against the divine most holy, our maker?!

He doesn't understand, and any chance he'd have to think or speak is repeatedly knocked from his head as he crashes into walls of wind firm enough to be stone.

Immense pressure crushes down around him, stalling him in place as if grasped in the enormous hand of a titan, and he cries out at it squeezes.

He looks up as he tries in vain to wriggle and flee, and he sees. Every part of him freezes in horror.

I am Anemo. The embodiment of sky, of breath. I am the Taker of Voices.

He is brought closer to the core of light at the center of the apocalyptic current.

I had such hope for you. A God of Freedom, one who would see the oppressed liberated from their miseries! One who would cast the sadness and hatred from his people to the winds, where they would be forgotten!

One who would spread the laughter of the First Breath to all corners of this world.

One who would be their protector, hearing misfortune on the winds and striking down those who would spell disaster for us all with the wrath of a great storm.

But you have failed. You have taken up arms against the one you were made to cherish with hatred in your heart.

You have forgotten your own freedom. The freedom to think for yourself, to act without orders. To go against what is known down a new path.

He cries out as some kind of tether is cut from his body, ripped away into the vortex.

You are my Archon no more. I shall find one more suitable to the task.

Perhaps in time, the Maker will find you pitiable enough to reinstate you as my envoy to Teyvat.

Enjoy your freedom, Venti of Mondstadt.

He plummets, the wind abandoning him entirely. The ground opens, a ravenous maw, stones and bedrock ground down like sharp fangs, and he falls into a lightless darkness.

He wakes, screaming and sobbing in equal measure.

He cannot feel the wind. He cannot hear it.

At his side, the light of the false Vision gutters out, dimming until not even a spark of Anemo remains within.

(Within a frozen palace, the light of the Anemo Gnosis dulls, waiting for a host to be chosen anew.)

consciousness returns to you in bits and pieces, your entire body an immense ache. Your joints are so sore you can barely move them without feeling the urge to weep.

Your nose is filled with the scent of the ocean. You can hear waves, and ever so faintly, the calls of birds. You feel safer here, somehow, as though this place is devoid of other intelligent beings.

Your eyes close again, body exhausted and unable to resist the siren call of unconsciousness in a space without threats.

On your back is a new scar, a spiral of gold starting between your shoulderblades and reaching out towards your ribs.

(Gnaw Taglist:

@the-dumber-scaramouche @iruiji @itz-luna @itsredactedlove @thatdeadaquarius @ssak-i @imyme20 @crierofirony

Thank you all very much for your interest.)

[a2zillustration]

Part 1 of 2

(Part 2)

Many many many many many years ago, I created some space pirates for a contest @tanginello was having on dA. Both characters were pretty heavily self-inserts, as you do, but last year I felt the urge to revisit them and finally make them into their own blorbos. I made this two months before I started playing BG3 and I think it's part of what gave me the comics itch.

[nicoathogwarts]

Prev

Three days had passed since Nico had felt Jason's heart stop. When a letter had arrived at lunch confirming what he already knew the professors had been forgiving, allowing him to hide away in his dorm during class without penalty.

All of the professors except Umbridge, who'd made sure to tell Nico in front of the entire Great Hall that he wouldn't be allowed to miss her class because of something so trivial.

It's taken all of the energy Nico had to not snap at her. His cousin was dead. Murdered. His classes were the last thing on his mind, especially classes where he spent the time staring at pages in a book, turning the page every now and then to look like he was actually reading any of it. It didn't matter either way, he wasn't planning to stay after he finished his quest.

What was worse was at the end of a mind numbingly boring Defense Against the Dark Arts class she set a letter on his desk. "Do pass on the message that your mother's request to take you off school grounds has been denied." She said with a bright smile. Again, Nico had to fight to hold his tongue.

Yelling wasn't going to get him to San Francisco in time for Jason's funeral. He walked out of class the second the bell rang, ignoring everyone who tried to talk to him. He dug through his bag awhile he made his way down to the dungeons, eventually finding a singular drachma and a small flashlight.

Nico went into the bathroom and locked the door, turning the water on as hot as possible until there was enough steam for a small rainbow. "O Iris, Goddess of the rainbow, show me Persephone."

The connection was bad, Nico couldn't see much but he could hear the familiar sounds of the Underworld. "The letter you sent asking to take me out of Hogwarts for the weekend was denied."

Persephone stopped whatever she was doing and moved closer. "Denied? Pack a bag. I'll take care of everything."

Nico agreed and spent the rest of the day holed up in the common room, doing anything but schoolwork.

Persephone's arrival wasn't announced, the extensive wards around Hogwarts alerted no one to her intrusion. She announced herself, throwing open the doors to the Great Hall and making her way to the professor's table.

"Dearest sister, you're the deputy headmistress, the headmaster is taking a leave of absence as I understand it. Explain to me why my request to take Nico to Jason's funeral was denied." There was a quiet rage simmering right below the surface of each word Persephone spoke.

With the smallest of smirks Minerva glanced at Umbridge. "The ministry made a decree recently; the High Inquisitor is the only one able to approve or deny requests to take a student off of school grounds."

"Tell me, who is the High Inquisitor."

"That would be Dolores." Minerva tilted her head towards Umbridge at the center of the table.

Persephone's eyes landed on the toad of a woman. "You." She strode forward to stand in front of Dolores. "I'm certain I made sure to put in my letter that the leave of absence is so Nico can attend his cousin's funeral, not for a weekend of fun. Did I not? Are you truly going to deny my stepson the chance to say one final goodbye to his cousin?" Every word Persephone spoke rang throughout the great hall. Nico kept his head low, of course Persephone wouldn't've had a private conversation with the woman. Why had he expected anything but a public spectacle?

Umbridge bristled "No student is permitted to leave the school outside of the holidays." she said sitting up a little straighter, trying to show she wasn't intimidated.

"You will make an exception." Umbridge opened her mouth to speak, but with a wave of her hand Persephone turned her into a rosebush made out of precious metals and gems. Something that wouldn't be out of place in her garden in the Underworld. She turned around and headed for the door. She gave Nico a look and he grabbed his bag and fell into step beside her.

When the doors to the great Hall shut beside them Nico spoke. "Did you have to do all of that? Now everyone knows I'm related to Professor McGonagall, I'm already on thin ice." And he couldn't keep risking that, war was getting closer, he couldn't keep wasting his time in the castle lounging around and doing schoolwork like he was just another student.

"The mist will sort out the finer details, worry about that come Monday, for now it's time to mourn and be with your friends." Persephone put a small gem in Nico's hands, a portkey or some other way that'd take him to New Rome. "Keep hold of this, it'll bring you back on Sunday evening as well." She gave Nico a quick hug before the world started to blurred around him.

[obsob]

do you make enough money from selling prints in etsy to sustain your life? how are you able to afford this beautiful house and time to crochet and go on walks and all of that? i’m not asking for nosiness but because i’m trying to figure out what i would need to do in order to make my life financially sustainable… is art an option… etc

short answer i mooch off my bf <333333333333333

[dotchi18]

The 'Real' Petal

(I've been listening to 'Open the Door' over and over for months thinking about this, and decided to write a oneshot at 3AM in one shot.

This is loosely based on the 'That's Not My Neighbor' game featuring one of my favorite Yandere Simps, Leumin, because I may be cringe, but I am free.

So, here's TNMN!AU/50s!AU

Leumin Holiday was created by @hime-bee )

----

Leumin didn't really pay much attention to his neighbors.

In a world where anything could happen to you when you were in the outside world, getting close to your neighbors would likely earn your head getting ripped clean off your shoulders should anything happen to them.

Sure, he knew them vaguely by their faces, but that was more out of self-preservation than any real care about them or their lives.

Go to work as a Florist, Go home.

Work, Home, Work, Home, Work, Home.

Maybe go to the store and have a little chat from going completely insane with his Book Club friend Seal.

But life was pretty listless, it was a wonder to him how some people could grasp human connection at all.

It was so draining and bled so much out of him, that when he first met her, he just kind of felt relief.

There was no wondering if a monster would come and take someone away from you if you already knew they were a monster.

It had been pouring, the sky above dim despite the slight warmth causing a humidity in the air, and very few people were outside.

Stationed behind the counter, Leumin leaned against it as he waited for his shift to simply end.

The likelihood of anyone coming in at all was slim at best, at this point there was nothing to do when he had done all of the chores earlier.

It was when he looked down to take a sip of water that a hooded figure rushed into the shop, the bell chime clanging at the force as the figure moved to the side, staying close to the window as they crouched to shrink at the very edge.

Immediately straightening up, Leumin reached to the bat tucked under the counter.

It was strange to him how more people didn't do such a thing, and seemed even offended if you carried a weapon around them.

If more people were more cautious, the doppelgangers probably wouldn't be such a problem, after all.

Walking over, he noticed the figure was watching someone else outside, trembling.

He glanced outside, and noticed from the bright red hair that it was someone that was from his apartment complex.

Not many people had hair like her after all.

Which made it all the more alarming when he saw the exact same curls falling from the hood.

Gripping the bat tighter, he kept a good distance, on guard, but also noticing the trembling.

" Can I help you?"

The figure froze before looking over to Leumin.

It was almost comical, the way the creature had shoddily slapped together the eyes, nose and mouth of his neighbor, but it was in such a way it was like he was looking at a Picasso painting.

It caught him off guard, that and the tears that were running from it's weirdly placed eyes.

" I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry-" The creature croaked as it covered it's face, " I'm trying, I'm trying."

Keeping his distance still from it, the young man shifted, bangs still covering his eyes as he looked from the creature to the window and then back.

What the hell was even happening here?

" Don't kill me, please, I'm just-" The creature sniffled and coughed.

" Take a breath." Leumin couldn't help but feel a bit bad, the creature shuddering with sobs.

It was hard to think of taking the life of something that was acting like a lost child.

The creature took another shuddering breath before focusing more on him, looking back to the woman whom was long gone before back to him again.

" ..."

The silence was awkward before the creature moved to stand, " I-I'm going to go..."

" Looking like that?" Leumin couldn't help but voice, gesturing vaguely at their face, " Uh... You sure?"

The creature seemed a bit more upset as it reached up and actively pushed at their features, trying to fix them, " I'm sorry... I-I tried to copy this woman... but her features were b-blurry from the rain..."

" Mm... Yeah." Leu looked around the street before back to the creature, a few beats passing.

' Fuck it.'

Deciding life wasn't that worth it, he moved to it, the creature flinching before he offered his hand, " Come on, let's fix it."

" H-Huh?"

" Your face. It shouldn't look like that." His words were blunt, but the creature didn't seem to mind, tentatively reaching their own hand to him, Leumin noted that they had to remember to put fingernails on their hand.

" Th-Thank you..."

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

By the end of his shift, Leumin had helped the creature craft their face in the back of the flower shop, thanks to a few pictures the owner had that could help them with composition.

A lot of it was based on memory, though he couldn't for the life of him remember what color his neighbor's eyes were, the color faded and watery on the creature's face.

" What's your favorite color?" The creature asked as they watched him.

It caught him off guard, so he took a beat before answering.

" Lilac."

It was then the creature closed their eyes, and when they opened them, the lilac color stared back at him.

" Thank you."

He felt his heart flip in his ribcage, his cheeks growing hot.

Why did they...???

" Do you have a name?" He asked as he stared.

" U-Um, I call myself Dotchi." The creature answered, scratching at their cheek with one of their new nails.

No, not the creature.

She didn't do anything wrong.

" I'm Leumin." He offered a hand to her, letting her shake it, this being the actual first time they touched as he wrapped his fingers around her hand tighter.

This world was fraught with danger, but she wasn't going to be one of the ones experienced it, because technically she was the danger.

But she didn't seem like she would hurt anyone.

Delicate like a little Petal...

And then it came to mind.

Curfew.

It was one of the things implemented to help keep the citizens safe, but it meant that anyone after a certain period was treated with immediate suspicion.

He could hide her in the back of the Flower Shop for a while, but considering she wasn't very good at human interaction much at all, and that people are checked at the door...

It was a kill or be killed world out there, he would have to make do for her.

[starfall-isle]

Hey 👋 I’m a broken record but things have been hard again. I did not realize how long I’ve been gone want to try and be here for a while

[celestial-toys]

That I Would Be Good [2/5]

Mind Games

“Contrary to that thing, my monitor doesn’t need to be on in order for you to interact with me. No eye-strain or migraines required.”

You lean back in your chair, muttering as you turn to face him. “Just trading one kinda ‘strain’ for another if you ask me…”

He idly turns your mug over in his hands. “I’m gonna pretend I didn’t hear that.”

Your brows raise and you cock your head up to look at him. “That’s… mature of you.”

His optic's focus doesn’t move from the mug in his hands. “…One of us has to be.”

- - - - - - -

In This Chapter

Moon walks in on you in a vulnerable state, Sun displays his concern over your health in his own strange way, and they both attempt to care for you as you chip away at your work.

Pairing: Sun x Moon x Reader

Word Count: 4,606

Contains: [AU - Real World | Sentient AI/Automatons | Personality Swap] [depiction and discussion of EDNOS (including mentions of weight gain + disordered eating and its slew of related thoughts and behaviors)] [invasion of privacy (both intentional and unintentional)] [more of Sun’s usual brand of tension and intimidating behavior]

A/Ns: This is a songfic. Lyrics and title are from ‘That I Would Be Good’ by Alanis Morissette.

This fic is part of my AU “[Not] Made by Design”, the full series can be found here.

Links to other parts of this fic: [Ch.1] [Ch.2 (you are here)] [Ch.3] [Ch.4] [Ch.5]

That I would be good even if I gained ten pounds.

You glare down at the bathroom scale in a brief moment of anticipation, and the illuminated digits that soon flash back at you make you regret stepping up here in the first place.

A critical little voice fills your head, speaking to you in a smug tone as you watch the scale’s display time-out and go blank.

“What else did you expect?”

You stand frozen in place, eyes darting over to your phone lying on the counter by the sink. The screen displays a document containing a substantial number of weigh-ins, body measurements, progress photos, and more. It’d gone unopened for a blissful few months before that damned voice urged you to open it again.

“You’d surely feel better if you got healthier,” it said.

“You’d be healthier if you lost some weight,” it said.

“You’ll thank yourself later,” it said.

“You’ll do it right this time,” it said.

“It’ll be worth it,” it said.

You’re familiar enough with this cycle to know not to fall for it’s words, but fuck do they sound good sometimes. They sound right. They manage to convince you that that’s really all there is to this nagging desire. They frame it around your health, they paint it in a pretty, harmless, positive light, and you eventually cast aside all better judgment and wade back into that familiar sea of lies.

You’re surprised it hasn’t drowned you yet.

You do the quick math in your head and frown at the confirmation that you’ve nearly gained back the same damn ten pounds that you’ve lost and gained more times than you’d like to count.

The logical part of your brain is pleading with you to listen to reason.

That your body feels safe here, and that there’s a reason for that.

That there’s a reason you keep bouncing back to this weight when you eat like a normal human instead of an obsessive, restrictive control-freak.

That every time you restrict and deny and starve yourself down toward your “goal weight” you’re only hurting yourself.

That once you inevitably give in to the human need for food, your body is only going to put on more fat-reserves to try and protect you.

That no matter how many times you listen to those lies, your efforts to be “healthy” will never do you any good as long as the focus is on your appearance.

That try as you might to hide it, you’re not living alone anymore. That eventually- sooner or later- your ever-observant house-mates are going to catch on to what you’re doing.

Apparently, “sooner or later” is actually right fucking now. As you stand in place, fully naked and perched on the bathroom scale lost in thought, the door swings open and you aren’t sure if it’s you or Moon that shouts first.

You jump in shock and immediately move to cover yourself, unable to get a coherent word in over Moon’s shouts of “SORRY—SORRY—DIDN’T REALIZE YOU WERE IN HERE—I AM SO SORRY!”

He twists his faceplate 180 degrees on its axis so damn fast that you’re afraid he’s damaged some internal components in his rush to prove that he isn’t looking at you. He rushes back out of the bathroom, swinging the door closed behind him, and you slump against the wall, cradling the bathrobe you’d instinctually ripped off its hook against your chest. As you try to calm your heart, you hear the muffled sound of Sun’s irritated voice growing louder as he presumably approaches the door to investigate the noise.

You hurriedly wrap yourself in the robe before any more unfortunate incidents can occur.

“What the hell are you shouting about?! Is everything okay?”

Moon’s voice is a lot quieter when he answers him. “...Yes—No—I… I mean…” Silence hangs in the air. “I don’t… know.”

“What does that mean? Are they okay or not? Yes or no?!”

“Everything… is fine, Sun. Everything’s fine.”

A pit of fear begins to grow in your stomach at Moon’s haunted tone.

Surely he didn’t have time to realize what you were doing amidst his rush to vacate the bathroom… right?

“Sure as shit didn’t sound fine! What happened?”

“I just… I accidentally walked in on them in the bathroom. We startled each other. That’s all.”

You can feel the tension through the door.

“You’ve always been an awful liar, Moon. Now tell me the truth.”

Your eyes cast across the scale on the floor, the unraveled measuring tape sprawled across the counter, and your phone, its screen still lit up, displaying your detailed list of measurements.

You’ve got to be fucking kidding.

He put it together that fast?

“…I don’t think the truth is mine to tell, Sun.”

A terribly uncomfortable silence falls between the two of them, and you can only assume that they’ve moved whatever remains of the conversation to their internal chat.

You weigh your limited options as you take a seat on the edge of the bathtub, cursing your past self for ever confiding in them about your history of disordered eating. Why’d you think that was a good idea?

You could try to play it off, make a big deal about getting walked-in on while naked and pray that they conveniently forget what else Moon saw.

Or, you could try convincing them that it's different this time. Use all the same tactics that the disorder uses on you.

Or, you could try being honest. You could try being open with someone about this for a change. You could try asking for some damn help.

A soft knock on the door takes you out of your thoughts. Moon’s strained voice follows it. “Star, uhm… whenever you’re decent, I think the three of us should talk.”

You hear a sudden sound-the reverberation of rubber on metal-and Sun grunts out a muffled “Fuckin’-stop it! Okay- okay- y’ don’t gotta hit me…” before his voice follows Moon’s. “We aren’t… mad, if… if you’re worried about that. We’re just concerned. And we want to talk. That’s all.”

You close your eyes, and feel the pang of a painfully empty stomach.

Your voice comes out colder than you expect it to.

“I’m decent. Just open the door.”

A few seconds pass where you wonder if they even heard you, but then the door handle twists and the last remaining barrier between them and your poorly hidden secret is removed.

Moon enters first, looking concerned, of course, but also… almost… guilty. Internally, you scoff. It’s not like it’s his fault that you’re like this.

His monitor pivots, sweeping across the room but not lingering for long on any one thing, apparently already having seen enough in the brief moment between first opening the bathroom door and then registering your unclothed presence in the room.

You didn’t expect his environmental processing speed to come back and bite you in the ass like this.

His focus eventually settles on the floor tiles as he shuffles into the small room far enough to leave space for Sun.

You wrap your arms around your middle as the solar bot steps into the room, uncharacteristically… distant.

Well. Emotionally, his distance is nothing new, but he’s got quite the penchant for invading personal space, particularly yours, so the way he lingers near the doorway doesn’t go unnoticed. You watch as he silently leans forward, monitor shifting away from you and over toward your phone on the counter. He bends down to get a better look, apparently not shy about confirming Moon’s assumptions regarding what you’d been doing in here. He lowers a pointed finger to the screen, back-scrolling through your records and lingering on a few… unflattering photos.

You grit your teeth and grow restless in the tense silence. The uncomfortable vulnerability that comes with his casual invasion of your privacy manifests itself in your defensive tone. “Either of you gonna say anything or am I supposed to just sit here quietly as Sun reads about exactly how fat I’ve gotten?”

Moon’s head tilts slightly toward you, brow furrowed, and Sun mirrors the expression as he puts your phone to sleep with a defiant huff. You suspect he could easily unlock it and continue his investigation if he so chose, given his penchant for surveillance. He seems to recognize though, or at least finally acknowledge the rudeness of it, pulling back and righting himself, leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed. “I couldn’t care less about that. I just want to know what’s going on with you.”

Moon pulls in a breath he doesn’t need, trying a gentler approach. “I apologize for walking in on you. I promise I… didn’t see… much.” He pauses, considering his words carefully. “…I can… show you? What I saw? I’ve already censored it. Or, uhm… I can just fully delete it if you’d like me to.”

The reminder that he can recall exactly what he saw and relive it again as many times as he’d like isn’t something you want to think about right now.

Maybe if you fling yourself backwards into the bathtub, you’ll hit your head so hard that at least you’ll be able to forget that any of this ever happened.

Pushing aside the intrusive thought, you shake your head. “I… appreciate the offer, but honestly that’s not what I’m concerned about right now.” You huff. “Hell, I’ve seen the two of you stripped bare, inside and out. Maybe it doesn’t hurt to level the playing field… I don’t know.”

The expression on Moon’s face changes, looking like he’s about to speak, and you cut him off before you all can wade any deeper into that discussion. “I assume seeing me naked for all of two seconds isn’t exactly what you two are concerned about either.”

Moon nods in both agreement and understanding, presumably answering for the both of them, as usual.

Sun reaches out once again, pinching the loose length of measuring tape between two fingers and lifting it off of the counter. “You know, I was willing to believe you when you started turning down your usual dinner, saying that you wanted to opt for something healthier.” He runs the tape between his fingers, straightening it as he speaks. “I was willing to write it off as your usual, run-of-the-mill lack of self care when you conveniently started “forgetting” meals entirely.” He begins slowly wrapping the tape around itself and you watch as his hands make quick work of re-rolling the tape into a neat little coil. “I was even willing to encourage you when you suddenly started wanting to exercise more. Though I had to admit, you seemed to be pushing yourself too far, too soon.”

He places the rolled tape back down on the counter, gaze suddenly meeting yours. “How long were you going to try and make fools of us?”

Okay… he’s taken this more personally than you thought he would.

“I—I wasn’t trying to “make a fool” out of either of you. Is that what you think this is? Some fun little game of mine?”

Moon jumps in before the conversation can grow heated. “That’s… not what he meant—”

“The hell it wasn’t—”

“Drop the act, Sun!”

Moon’s unexpected outburst catches both of you off guard, but his voice doesn’t waver, monitor swinging over to stare his other half down. “I know you’re worried about them and I know you don’t know how to show it, but shoving your head up your ass and acting like everything they do is some personal slight against you is not the answer.”

For once, Sun actually looks a bit shocked.

His screen flickers, cycling through a few different expressions before blacking out altogether. He’s quiet for a long few moments, monitor angling down toward the floor.

“…Then what am I supposed to do.” His defeated question comes out more like a statement, his head picking back up just enough for the image of you to enter his field of view. “How am I supposed to fix this? How do I reason with this nonsensical part of you that thinks there’s something wrong with your body?”

You search for an answer, a simple shrug followed by “It’s not that easy, Sun.” apparently not enough to satisfy him.

He keeps talking as he slowly approaches you, brushing past Moon’s outstretched arm as the lunar bot fights with his outdated instincts to keep Sun away from you. “There isn’t anything wrong with your body. Never has been. Never will be.”

You guess that his words are meant to sound comforting, but something isn’t right. His tone is off, the approach is all wrong, and he isn’t even technically correct.

“You know what there is something wrong with, though?”

You humor him. “What?”

He’s within arm’s reach of you now, and he reaches out to tap you on the forehead.

Moon’s hand darts in and clamps around Sun’s wrist, losing his internal fight.

Sun ignores him entirely.

“Your brain. There’s something wrong inside your head and it’s gonna fucking kill you if you keep listening to it.”

Moon attempts to interject. “Sun, that’s enough—”

“Tell me how I can help you.” Sun cuts Moon off like he’s not even there, focus locked entirely on you. “How? How? I can’t work on you the way you can work on us! I can’t lay you down, open you up, and pull out all the broken pieces. There’s no antivirus program to run. No broken bits of code that I can repair. I can’t fix you with my own two hands, and these mind games are not my forte.”

He lets his legs fold, collapsing to his knees before you. You wince at the sound of metal hitting tile. “Just tell me what to do and I’ll do it. You know I will.” His voice grows desperate, “Please, please tell me that you know I will.”

You shake yourself out of the near trance you’d fallen into while watching him show you his own peculiar brand of honesty.

“Sun…” You reach for the hand that Moon isn’t holding back. “I do know that you would. I do. I just don’t know how else I can explain to you that this… isn’t something that can be fixed in such a way. Hardly anything on my laundry list of problems can be cured using your preferred methods. I… I’m sorry.”

Sun sinks the rest of the way to the floor, slumping against the sink’s cabinets. With his black screen and lifeless body, he’d seem dead if it weren’t for the voice still coming out of him. “…Moon?”

Sun’s better half answers him as Moon lowers himself to the ground beside him. “Yes…?”

“Could I bother you to talk some sense into the both of us?” Sun breathes out his request, and you’re only a little offended by his use of “us.”

In spite of it all, Moon laughs. A soft, gentle sound.

“I can try.”

That I would be fine even if I went bankrupt.

The door to your office swings open slow and quietly, and if it hadn’t been for your eyes picking up on the movement in your periphery, you’d’ve been none the wiser to Sun’s silent entry. You don’t even need to glance away from your monitor’s screen to confirm which of your boys it is, Sun’s habit of “forgetting” to knock is plenty of a giveaway.

“It’s been an hour.”

Your eyes close as you suck in a deep breath, releasing it with more force than necessary as you will yourself to remain civil about this. “Thanks for the reminder, Sun.”

Your dismissive thanks is far from enough to appease him.

“Which means… it’s time to take a break.”

You reopen your eyes, avoidantly locking your focus on the work spread across your screen. “And I’ve scarcely made any progress yet. I can’t afford to take a break right now.”

He’s quiet for a few moments, and you almost dare to think that was a good enough counterpoint to convince him to leave you alone.

Almost.

He moves wordlessly from his imposing stance in the middle of the small room, and you watch him in the edge of your vision. He approaches the opposite side of your desk in measured steps before dropping down out of sight. There’s no sound or indication of movement for an uncomfortable few seconds too long. You’re about to angrily push away from your desk to look beneath it, mind quickly flooding with any number of nefarious things he could be doing. Namely, unplugging your PC again like the nuisance that he is.

As the palms of your hands press into the edge of your desk in preparation to push yourself away, your attention is caught by movement at the top of your monitor. You watch with impatient confusion as Sun’s rays peek above the top of your screen, the curve of his faceplate rising into view akin to the sun over the earth’s horizon. His motion halts when he’s risen halfway, and you’re rendered speechless in a mixture of annoyance, amusement, and shock as a pair of hyper-realistic human eyes stare back at you.

“Can you ‘afford’ to damage your eyesight?”

He’s replaced his display’s usual simplistic, circular approximation of eyes with an uncanny digital replica of what seems to be yours. You can hardly focus on the point he’s trying to make given the odd sight before you. “I—Sun, now really isn’t…”

He blinks at you, unwavering.

“Sun—quit lookin’ at me like that!”

He stifles a brief laugh. “Take a break from your screen and I will.”

You huff, shaking your head as you tear your gaze away from both screens in front of you, gaze pointedly darting around the room. “And look at what instead? You? What good’s it gonna do for me to look at your screen instead of this one?”

True to his word, once your eyes are off the screen, he rids himself of his disturbing new look. You glance at the motion as he rises fully from behind your desk, and take note of the way his monitor goes black instead of defaulting to his original face. He rounds the desk, hooking a finger through the handle of your long-empty mug and planting his ass on the corner where said mug just sat.

“Contrary to that thing, my monitor doesn’t need to be on in order for you to interact with me. No eye-strain or migraines required.”

You lean back in your chair, muttering as you turn to face him. “Just trading one kinda ‘strain’ for another if you ask me…”

He idly turns your mug over in his hands. “I’m gonna pretend I didn’t hear that.”

Your brows raise and you cock your head up to look at him. “That’s… mature of you.”

His optic's focus doesn’t move from the mug in his hands. “…One of us has to be.”

You sigh. “Sun, I appreciate your attempts to preserve my eye health, I do. But right now really isn't a good time…”

His monitor swivels on its axis, turning a near 180 to look at your monitor on the desk behind him. He surveys the day’s work: a messy assortment of various windows, tabs, and programs, recognizing that one client’s unreasonable list of requests among the disarray. From how long he spends staring at it, you begin to wonder if he’s got anything else to say at all.

“…You ever think about quitting?”

A surprised laugh escapes you. “Quitting? Uh—aha—I mean…” You give your answer a bit of thought. “…Of course I think about it. Especially when I’m stuck with a project like this one. Or, well… a client like this one. But that’s not… practical. I can’t just walk away from a job when things get hard.”

His monitor reverses the path it took to face the screen, swinging around slowly and pausing halfway through the motion to face you. “What’s stopping you?”

Another breathy laugh leaves you. “You mean aside from not wanting to feel like an even bigger failure than I already constantly do?”

He doesn’t respond, and you barely give him any time to. “Aside from that, y’know… when I said I can’t ‘afford’ to take a break right now, I meant it in the financial sense as much as any other.”

It’s not like losing out on the profit from one project would hurt your finances too much, at least not in comparison to how badly the failure to deliver would affect your reputation in your field. But quitting altogether? That’d be a different story.

“You… have money.”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes, reminding yourself that in spite of his intelligence, some knowledge can only sink in when you experience it firsthand.

“Yeah, but I won’t continue to have it if I just up and abandon this job with nothing else to fall back on. I’ve got bills to pay, a house and car to upkeep. Mine and Zero’s food and water, you and Moon’s maintenance—these things aren't free.”

His monitor swivels away from you as he considers your words. “Well they should be.”

You bite back a smile at his indignant response. “You’re not wrong… and in a better world, they would be. But unless you guys have figured out how to universe-hop and just haven’t told me yet, we’re stuck in this one. And I’ll stick with this company as long as they’ll have me if it means we can keep living comfortably.”

He resumes his idle toying with your drinkware and the thought suddenly occurs to you that maybe you should look into gifting him a fidget toy of some sort. He and Moon both would likely benefit from one, though you suspect Sun will reject the notion and Moon will just end up with two. Not that they’d go unused regardless, the lunar busybody could likely work one in each hand and still find himself restless.

Perhaps you should look into something more involved, like… complex puzzles? Intricate crafts? Something to keep his hands busy, given his preference for physical tasks as opposed to Sun’s love of idle entertainment. For someone who hates so-called “mind games” the solar bot sure does spend a lot of time in his own head. Regardless, you ought to find something for Moon, because you don’t think your house can get much cleaner or more organized. Though, the solution to Sun’s penchant for micromanaging your behaviors will likely be more difficult than a simple fidget toy can solve…

As your mind gears up to run off with the ideas, Sun’s next abrupt question halts it in its tracks.

“Did you want to quit when you were working on us?”

You freeze for a moment as the vulnerability in his tone catches you off guard, but the truth comes out easy when you answer him. “No. …No, I never did.”

His head tilts just enough to angle halfway back toward you, and if he wore any expression at all you assume it’d be one of skepticism.

“I mean it, Sun. I mean— hell, talk to any of my colleagues and they’ll tell you how insufferable I was back then. How difficult it was to get me to focus on any other project. How hellbent I was on executing the vision. How… well, I guess you saw at least some of those fights there toward the end when things got kinda… tense. No one could even get me to entertain the idea of giving up on you.”

The finger he’d been tracing in endless circles along the rim of your mug comes to a standstill. “…Why?”

You spin your chair around a bit, swiveling further into his avoidant line of sight, tilting your head and attempting to catch his invisible gaze. “Because I wasn’t doing it for money. You two were a labor of nothing but love.”

In the silence that follows, you hear his cooling system kick up a notch, and that’s the only sound that fills the room for a long moment. 

But like all moments, it eventually passed.

A soft knock on the doorframe pulls your attention away from the flustered automaton on your desk, and toward his counterpart standing in the open doorway of your office. One look at the tray effortlessly balanced in one of his hands answers the question of his arrival before you can even ask it.

“Am I interrupting anything?”

Sun unexpectedly answers before you can, and when your gaze flicks back over to him you’re surprised to find his default expression returned, and his demeanor completely shifted. “Nah, I was just reminding them of the importance of taking breaks to rest their eyes.”

He motions Moon over and the lunar bot accepts the invitation. “That is very important!” Soft-spoken and positive as ever, he presents you with a very reasonably proportioned and healthy spread of food. “You know what else is very important?”

You gaze up into his blue crescent eyes and he answers his own question on your behalf. “Lunch!”

Your grateful smile is involuntary as you reach out to lift a plate from the tray, turning toward Sun in a silent request for him to vacate the dedicated food-and-drink corner of your desk. He’s already moving before you even turn to him though, rising and striding to the middle of the room as you offer your gratitude to Moon and listen to him describe exactly what he’d made you.

You do your best to fight the long-memorized caloric numbers that rack up in your head as you take stock of what all he’s brought you.

“I’d offer to refill your water bottle, but it seems to still be quite full…” Moon’s commentary brings your attention back, and you sheepishly answer him.

“Yeah, I… finished the coffee first and… kinda forgot about that.”

He pets you gently on the head, calm as ever. “It’s alright, starlight, I understand.”

As you guiltily reach for the water bottle, Sun pipes up, excusing himself. “Well, now that you’ve been sufficiently distracted, I’ll be taking my leave—”

Moon cuts in, “Oh, don’t let me run you off, I just wanted to bring this in.”

Sun begins walking effortlessly backwards toward the doorway. “Oh, you’re not. I’ve got… my own plans. Starting with washing this mug.”

You can’t resist the urge to tease him, ‘talking to yourself’ plenty loud enough for him to hear on his way out. “Oh, thank fuck, he’s gone. Now I can get back to work!”

He halts in his tracks halfway through turning to face the exit. “You know, on second thought—”

You grin and wave. “Goodbye, Sun! Thanks for washing that for me!”

He shifts his weight onto one leg, idling in the doorway and thoughtfully dangling your mug from one hooked finger. “I mean, The American Academy of Ophthalmology actually recommends—”

“Good-bye, Mr. Sun.”

Moon chuckles at your deadpan dismissal and Sun huffs, turning and trudging away down the hall.

As you sip your water and begin to poke at the lunch with your fork, Moon walks around behind you and leans forward, surveying the work spread across your screen. “Do you mind if I take a look over this while you eat?”

You know it’s probably mostly an excuse to stay in here and make sure that you do eat, but you nod anyway. “Uh, sure! Have at it.”

The hunger hits you once you’ve had a taste of Moon’s cooking, and you muse aloud, mumbling around a mouthful of food. “Hell, maybe you’ll find some workaround that I can’t.”

A/N: Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed. I’ll be back soon with part 3! You can also find my notes and commentary on this fic right here on Ao3. Links to the playlist and moodboard for [N]MbD can be found on this blog’s pinned post, as well as in the series notes on Ao3. Image Sources: x - x - x