#love thine enemy

[noxnightingales]

love thine enemy

a familiar angel crossed my path I uttered blasphemy he turned to look, and gasped angel golden my armor polished black he and I on opposite sides seeing his face I lost my desire to fight I refuse to walk in pure darkness cannot just remain in the light somewhere between the shadows where we won't be seen the angel agrees someplace on the battle field we shall love our enemies

I wrote this after seeing all the images of Crowley and Aziraphale in battle armor.

[kacievvbbbb]

Mihawk and Shanks arguing about Shanks sacrificing his arm for a child. And Mihawk just fundamentally does not understand WHY? And shanks in a moment of pure frustration goes

“What if it were me? What if I was dying? Would you risk it all to save me?”

And Mihawk goes quiet not because he wouldn’t but because he realizes that he would despite everything that he believes, everything that has been taught to him, he knows that he would, without hesitation he would risk it all if for Shanks just for Shanks.

And then where does that leave him? The foundation on which he’s built decades of selves on gone, in an instant.

All because he knows that if this man right infront of him should die he might well take Mihawk with him. ,

[blessedarethebinarybreakers]

Hey I don’t mean to further flood your inbox and I know I sent an ask a week or so ago. But in church this morning the sermon was on the 1 John passage about how if you hate your brother or sister you don’t love God, and I just. I bet you can guess which political figure immediately comes to mind. I know we’re supposed to love and pray for and forgive our enemies, and it’s not supposed to be a thing where you only do it if you know you’ll get an apology/changed behavior/etc. But the most positive thing I can say where he’s concerned is if he showed up on my doorstep bleeding and starving I would work past my anger to bind his wounds and feed him cuz that’s what you’re supposed to do for fellow human beings. Other than that I have no love for him (or people like him, really). Just anger and immense disdain. Maybe even hate. What do I do with that??

Hey there, I feel you on this. I can also think of maaany political figures I feel this about lol.

I have an old post delving into what it means to love one's enemy and what forgiveness is (and isn't) that I recommend to you.

I'll start with a TL;DR from that post, and then add some other stuff about working through feelings like anger and hate, and close with some reading recs <3

When we find it desperately difficult to love, or to forgive, we can ask God to feel and be what we find ourselves unable to feel and be.

We can remember Christ's words on the cross about the soldiers crucifying him: he does not say "I forgive them," but asks, "Father, you forgive them, for they know not what they do."

He cannot himself forgive them in that moment — not while they are in the act of torturing and killing him, not while they hold all power over him, not even when his compassion allows him to understand that they do what they do out of ignorance — so he asks God to be that forgiveness for them.

When I struggle to feel love for someone who is doing great harm and seems completely unrepentant of that, I turn to God the way Jesus did: "God, I'm struggling to see the spark of You in them. Please love them the way I can't in this moment."

Next point:

Throughout the Bible, the concepts of love and hate are much more about action than sentiment.

If you feel love for someone, yet don't come to their aid when they need it most, what use was that love to them? Meanwhile, if you fear or disdain someone, yet help them in their direst need, you have acted with love.

Furthermore, when it comes to difficult emotions, the good news is that we are indeed invited to bring all our feelings — anger, disdain, even hate — to God. We can be real about what we're feeling.

Scripture shows us this over and over: There are so many psalms, and passages from the prophets, where someone has been hounded and terrorized enough to wish pain or even death upon the ones who oppress them. In one of the most infamous, Psalm 137, the psalmist even goes so far as to wish that their oppressors' children might be "dashed upon a rock" — that everything Babylon has made them suffer might be enacted on Babylon.

These are not pretty feelings, yet they are preserved in holy poetry, because they are part of the human experience. (And tantamount to understanding them is realizing that those praying such things will happen almost never have the power to enact them. The psalmist who wishes Babylon's soldiers experience what they've put the psalmist's people doesn't have the army, the weapons, the power to actually make that happen. They're just honest about wishing it in a moment of collective trauma and grief.)

In all this, I'm not saying God "wants" us to feel loathing or hate — any thought or feeling that puts us at risk of denying another person's humanity is one we do need to work on; but we do that work by being honest about feeling it, rather than being too ashamed to face it or to share it with God.

No pressure to read any of these of course, but here are texts I'd recommend on these topics:

James Baldwin's The Fire Next Time, a brief but rich text in which (among other things) Baldwin grapples with the need to love his oppressor (namely white people) — to affirm their humanity in a way they have denied him. Only in recognizing one another's humanity can we have any hope of something like justice and peace for the generations to come. Baldwin believes this vehemently, but he still acknowledges that it's still not easy, in fact it's one of the hardest things, to love one's oppressors in such a way. .

Cole Arthur Riley's This Here Flesh, another short book rich in meaning. I especially recommend the chapters on lament, rage, justice, and repair for this topic. One thing she discusses is that love is not "niceness," that rage can be righteous, that sometimes the most loving thing we can do is to let a harmful person witness our rage, to call them out. .

The same link from the beginning to that post about what forgiveness is and what it is not

[scripture-pictures]

[saintobio]

KNOW THY ENEMY.

dramatis personae; sylus, reader, xavier. heavy angst. period piece. medieval au.

— “in a realm where light and dark doth vie, ‘tis not thine eyes, but thy heart, that must discern who be the true enemy.”

♱ forbidden love

an illicit romance: crown prince xavier, your childhood friend and devoted lover, stands on the precipice of duty as the sole heir to philos. as he is bound by the chains of his obligation to the throne, his heart aches for the one lady he cannot claim.

♱ marriage of convenience

wed to a tyrant: emperor sylus, an oppressive ruler from a neighboring empire, secured your hand through a ruthless bargain he struck to claim you as his wife. your marriage is not one of love, but a cold transaction sealed by power and ambition, leaving your heart trapped in a gilded cage.

♱ the damsel in distress

the bastard daughter of a grand duke: born of noble blood but marred by your mother’s lowly station, you walk a fine line between privilege and disgrace, ultimately forced to marry a man for your own survival. yet, your fate was sealed by a vow to xavier—a promise to break free from sylus’s grasp when the crown of philos finally rests upon your lover’s head.

COMING SOON !

[joelsmorgan]

ఇ - arthur morgan masterlist.

✦ one shots.

fakin' it | enemies to lovers - by @/hihomeghere

conflicted spaces | strangers to lovers - by @/not-neverland06

missus | established relationship - by @/ariiadnes

salt and pepper | established relationship - by @/hihomeghere

ride a cowboy | pwp - by @/saintgoths

bunk up | acquaintances to lovers - by @/jayke0

our dear, green little friend | friends to lovers - by @/serawritesthings

unrequited | unrequited love, friends to lovers - by @/cherryblossomenthusiast

fantasies in the dark | pwp - by @/pinescent-and-gingerbread

the forbidden fruit | cheating, pwp - by @/messrmoonyy

saint, or sinner | friends to lovers - by @/grugruel

you've kissed me for less | friends to lovers-ish - by @/grugruel

portrait of a man undone | established relationship - by @/redwritr

dreams | established relationship - by @/hihomeghere

seraphic | established relationship - by @/zae-heeyyy

ride a cowboy | pwop ft. joel miller - by @/saintgoths

watermelon moonshine | pwop, lovestruck!arthur - by @/viceofdionysus

playing dress up | established relationship - by @/sapphic-pikachu

oh you sweet, poisonous thing | friends to ?, jealous!arthur - by @/lotvsflwrr

loving in silence | established relationship - by @/morganismss

sweet on ya | friends to lovers - by @/bountydroid

alone with you | pwp - by @/eternalsams

a tale of two outlaws | pwop ft. john marston - by @/cosmicdahlias

little rat | friends to ?, protective!arthur - by @/allthemeniveloved

cradle | established relationship - by @/allthemeniveloved

northern attitude | friends to lovers - by @/allthemeniveloved

workin' girl | strangers to lovers - by @/millieisawriter

soft lines | established relationship - by @/irissfoot

good to me | pwop - by @/girl-celestial

a night to remember | strangers to lovers-ish - by @/angelsknifeprty ✦ series.

piquancy | friends to lovers - by @/zae-heeyyy part one. part two. part three.

passerine | friends to lovers - by @/twola chapter one. chapter two. chapter three. chapter four. chapter five. chapter six.

hell hath no fury | strangers to ? to lovers - by @/not-neverland06 fire in the belly - chapter one. cornered dog - chapter two. a woman scorned - chapter three. watch for the silent growl - chapter four. covetous hearts - chapter five. sowing the seeds of doubt - chapter six. silent waters - chapter seven. the gilded cage - chapter eight. this land's yours - chapter nine. the prodigal son - chapter ten. the road less traveled - epilogue.

it will come back | strangers to lovers ft. john marston - by @/allthemeniveloved chapter one. chapter two. chapter three. chapter four. chapter five. chapter six. chapter seven. chapter eigth. arthur's ending - part one. arthur's ending - part two.

the tie which linked my soul to thee | strangers to lovers - by @/moeitsu the years creep slowly by - chapter one. the snow is on the grass again - chapter two. the sun's low down the sky - chapter three. the frost gleams where the flowers have been - chapter four. my heart beats on as warmly now - chapter five. as when the summer days were nigh - chapter six. the sun can never dip so low - chapter seven. or down affections cloudless sky - chapter eight. a hundred months have passed - chapter nine. since last i held that hand in mine - chapter ten. and felt the pulse beat fast - chapter eleven. though mine beat faster than thine, part 1 - chapter twelve. in dreams, she comes to me, part 2 - chapter thirteen. a hundred months 'twas flowery may - chapter fourteen. when up the hilly slope we climbed - chapter fifteen. the past is the eternal past - chapter sixteen. to watch the dying of the day - chapter seventeen. to hear the distant church bells chime - chapter eighteen. we loved each other then - chapter nineteen. more than we dared to tell - chapter twenty. what we might have been - chapter twenty one. had but our loving prospered well - chapter twenty two. to call up their shadowy forms - chapter twenty three. the story of that past - chapter twenty four. the hope that could not last - chapter twenty five. i care not to repeat - chapter twenty six. words of mine long years ago - chapter twenty seven. i would not cause her one regret - chapter twenty eight. there is a future, thank god - chapter twenty nine. total count: 35 (60 links).

more on read dead redemption | john marston.

my masterlist of recommendations.

i’m going to keep updating this list as i read more!

last update: 5/05/25.

[shiani25]

If you're okay then maybe you could write Starscream wearing his crown, roleplaying as a King and Megatron as his knight? Chaos ensues over the Decepticons as they continue to play and act like this for the whole day. Sfw, could be any form of art please.

"The Nemesis Theatre Disaster"

Morale on the Nemesis was at an all-time low.

The Decepticons had suffered setback after setback, Autobots ruining their plans at every turn. The troops were sluggish, unmotivated, and even the usual entertainments—like fighting matches in the training room or gambling on who would get punched by Megatron first—had lost their charm.

Knockout, ever the perfectionist, hated this.

“Low morale leads to low productivity, Lord Megatron!” he argued, arms crossed. “And low productivity leads to poor results! Do you want your forces to perform at half capacity?”

Megatron, who had just suffered through an exceptionally sloppy battle, ex-vented through his denta. “…No.”

Knockout smirked victoriously. “Exactly! So, we need a solution.”

As second-in-command Starscream immediately took this as his chance to shine.

“Clearly, what we need is art,” he declared dramatically, wings flaring. “A distraction to lift spirits and remind our troops that the Decepticons are more than just warriors—we are thinkers, creatives, visionaries—”

“I am going to regret asking this,” Megatron muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose, “but what are you suggesting?”

Starscream grinned.

“We shall host a play!”

Megatron’s spark sank. He had already made a mistake.

---

Knockout, not surprisingly, loved the idea.

“Oh, brilliant! We’ll make it grand! A true spectacle! And I shall be the director, of course.”

Starscream scoffed. “Obviously. Who else could handle such an important task? Vehicons? I don't think so.”

With that settled, the disaster spiraled quickly.

Starscream, as the most gifted with words (his own assessment), was put in charge of writing the script.

Breakdown and Soundwave were tasked with handling props, stage construction, and lighting. Soundwave, with his usual eerie efficiency, had it all set up within hours, while Breakdown spent most of the time wondering how he’d been dragged into this.

The casting process was… interesting.

“You, Lord Megatron, shall play the part of my loyal knight!” Starscream announced, puffing his chestplate with pride.

Megatron immediately hated this. “No.”

Starscream waved dismissively. “Too late! The script is already written. You swore an oath of fealty to my character—King Starflare the Magnificent—and I expect you to act accordingly.”

Megatron turned to Knockout. “You will regret this.”

Knockout, adjusting his director’s cap, just grinned. “Oh, I already do. But I’m enjoying the chaos too much to stop now.”

---

Opening Night.

The entire crew gathered in the Nemesis’ cargo bay-turned-theatre. Seats had been arranged, a stage had been built, and Soundwave had somehow rigged up an actual lighting system.

The play began.

And it was an utter disaster.

Starscream’s script was atrocious.

The story followed the noble and glorious King Starflare (played by Starscream) as he ruled his kingdom with unmatched wisdom, beauty, and grace. His loyal knight, Sir Mediumtron (played by a very unamused Megatron), was his fiercest defender, sworn to protect him at all costs.

The problem?

The dialogue was awful.

Megatron read from the script with the enthusiasm of a mech contemplating self-destruction. “Oh, my most radiant lord, my sword and spark are ever at your service. I shall smite thine enemies with the fury of a thousand sunrises. —” He paused. Looked at the next word. “... Mediumtron looked at his king with admiration because he secretly loved him.”

"Those are stage directions you should not read that part!!"

Starscream, standing dramatically on a fake throne, waved a dismissive hand. “Besides, you must sell it, Megatron. The people need to believe in your love and devotion to your king!”

Megatron’s fist clenched. “I am going to kill you.”

The troops in the audience were barely holding in their laughter.

Things only got worse.

Breakdown had built the worst props possible, including a cardboard dragon that was supposed to be the grand final battle but looked more like a sickly Turbofox with wings.

Knockout, being Knockout, had focused entirely on style, giving everyone elaborate capes that got tangled in their movements.

Soundwave had rigged the lighting too well, and at one point, a dramatic spotlight hit Starscream so hard he tripped on his own cape and faceplanted off the stage.

That was honestly Megatron's favourite part.

The audience erupted into laughter.

Starscream shot up, flustered and furious. “Silence, peasants! You dare mock your king?!”

That only made them laugh harder.

Megatron, suffering through one of his worst cycles yet, rubbed his optics and sighed. “Starscream, end this madness.”

Starscream huffed. “The finale has yet to—”

That was when the cardboard dragon collapsed mid-scene, knocking over an entire set piece. Breakdown cursed as props went flying. The whole stage fell apart, leaving Starscream standing awkwardly in the wreckage.

Silence.

Then—

Thunderous applause.

The troops loved it.

They cheered, whistled, and shouted for more. They weren’t laughing at Starscream—they were genuinely entertained. For the first time in weeks, the Decepticons were actually happy.

Starscream was taking in all that applause and pretended all was according to his plan.

Knockout smirked, leaning against Megatron. “Well, Lord Megatron? Morale’s never been higher.”

Megatron groaned. His dignity was in tatters, but…

If the troops were happy, then maybe it was worth it.

…Still, he would make Starscream and Knockout suffer for this later.

[traumacatholic]

If I may request a prayer, I keep encountering queerphobic bigotry online as I try to genuinely explore my faith in Christ. It hurts and feels so discouraging.

Of course! I'm so sorry that you've experienced this. I definitely do know a lot of online spaces can be very hostile and toxic. For what it's worth, I have generally found that offline spaces are a lot more welcoming. People seem to be a lot friendlier, and it's unfortunately such a contrast with how online spaces can be - especially when people feel that their identity is hidden and that they're untouchable.

Here is a prayer that is typically said while looking upon the Theotokos the Softener of Evil Hearts Icon:

Soften our evil hearts, O Theotokos, and quench the attacks of those who hate us and loose all the rigidity of our soul. For looking on thy holy image we are filled with compunction by thy suffering and loving-kindness for us, and we kiss thy wounds; we are filled with horror for the darts with which we wound thee. Let us not, O Mother of Compassion, because of the cruelty of our hearts, perish from the cruelty of heart of those near us. For thou art in truth the softener of evil hearts.

Here is a prayer for our enemies:

Lord Jesus Christ, Who didst command us to love our enemies, and those who defame and injure us, and to pray for them and forgive them; Who Thyself didst pray for Thine enemies who crucified Thee: Grant us, we pray, the spirit of Christian reconciliation and meekness, that we may heartily forgive every injury and be reconciled with our enemies. Grant us to overcome the malevolence and offences of people with Christian meekness and true love of our neighbor. We further beseech Thee, O Lord, to grant to our enemies true peace and forgiveness of sins; do not allow them to leave this life without true faith and sincere conversion. And help us repay evil with goodness, and to remain safe from the temptations of the devil and from all the perils which threaten us, in the form of visible and invisible enemies. Amen.

And here is a prayer for protection:

O Lord, our God, pre-existing before all ages and remaining forever; who are as great in compassion as you are in uncontainable power; who because of your ineffable mercy bowed the heavens, came down on earth and became man for the salvation of sinners; who put on and immortalized our nature and ascended with it to the place from which you descended; hear from heaven and become merciful to all those who cry out to you with a broken heart. You, O Master of all, lend you ear and hear us. We know your undefeatable love for your creation and your inexhaustible goodness. Hence, we throw ourselves into the ocean of your compassions and entreat you: turn not your face from us nor cast us away from your countenance neither hand us over to those who are so furiously attacking us. Look upon us with your compassionate eye. Show us how to rise above both the visible and invisible enemies. Place in us a power from on high; encompass us with your almighty right hand; keep us under the protection of your wings; fortify us with love for one another and grant us unshakable peace. But before all and above all, instill in us your fear and your love that your holy name may also be glorified in us. Upon you alone we look, on you alone we have placed our hopes, and to you we send up the glory, together with your Father, who is without beginning, and the life-creating Spirit, now and ever and unto the ages of ages. Amen.

And here is another prayer you might find comforting:

Almighty God, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, come to my help and deliver me from this difficulty that besets me. I believe Lord, that all trials of life are under Your care and that all things work for the good of those who love You. Take away from me fear, anxiety and distress. Help me to face and endure my difficulty with faith, courage and wisdom. Grant that this trial may bring me closer to You for You are my rock and refuge, my comfort and hope, my delight and joy. I trust in Your love and compassion. In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.

[goldenraeofsun]

light you up like dynamite

“Stop whatever you’re doing,” Lois announces as soon as Clark opens the door to let her in. “This is more important, and I need all hands on deck.”

“Surely the deck can wait until –” Clark startles as he looks at his watch. “Gosh, Lois, it’s three in the morning!”

“Good reporters never sleep,” she crows as she makes a beeline for the coffee maker in the kitchen. She spins on her heel to face him, hands on her hips. “I’ve got the story of the century for you.”

“You are unbelievable.”

Lois beams. “Thank you.”

“That wasn’t a compliment.” He sighs. “I thought, after everything that happened last Tuesday –”

“Story - of - the - century,” Lois interrupts, punctuating each word with a little clap to get it through his thick, thick skull. 

“I’m pretty sure I’ve heard you say that at least five times before,” he says wearily. He rattles off, “Luthor’s election campaign scandal. Intergang’s money laundering racket. The governor’s fraud and abuse within the City Housing Authority. Luthor’s second election campaign scandal.”

Lois scowls as she grabs the bag of grounds from his cabinet and puts in a new filter. “That’s only four.”

Clark drums his fingers against the counter. “When Bernini’s closed, and you said your reporting would shake the very foundations of Metropolis.”

“Hey,” Lois protests, “You loved their chicken parm as much as I did!”

“Sure I did,” Clarks says reasonably, “but I didn’t put in print that their landlord was ‘a penny-pinching, corner-cutting bourgeois parasite and a prime example of why we should start using the guillotine’.” He pauses. “Not that you could spell guillotine if your life depended on it. ”

Lois grunts over the gurgling coffee. “I stand by that op-ed. I still dream about that chicken, I’ll have you know.”

“And,” Clark adds darkly, “who can forget ‘I Spent the Night with Superman’?”

Lois's lips purse. “That nearly won me the Pulitzer! It brought in 20,000 new subscriptions to The Planet in 24 hours. And you know Perry changed the headline on me fifteen minutes before he put the paper to bed.”

Clark frowns. “So you had fifteen minutes to change it back.”

Lois points a finger squarely at his face. “You’re just sore I got the interview first.”

Clark gapes at her. “You dangled yourself off Schuster Bridge!”

“And you didn’t, so that’s why I’m the better reporter, and you got scooped,” Lois says smartly. 

Clark rolls his eyes to the ceiling. “Lord have mercy.”

“He’s got nothing to do with it.”

Clark watches her beadily as she pours a cup of coffee, his bright blue eyes cataloging her every move. “Is everything okay?” he asks, his voice that kind of gentle-soft that makes her skin crawl. She has never needed to be treated with kid gloves in her life; she’s made of sterner stuff than that. And obviously she’s fucking fine. She found a lead that every journalist in a 50 mile radius missed – Clark very much included.

Lois unlocks her phone and shoves it in his face. 

He winces as the almost offensively bright glare hits his glasses. “The Star?” he asks once he can actually read it, his question dripping with skepticism. “You hate The Star.”

“Know thine enemy,” Lois says, grimacing as she watches Clark scroll. 

Clark exhales a slow breath through his nose as he scans the cover story. “Seriously?” he asks, exasperated. “‘50 Questions with Superman’? Lois this was from two months ago ”

“Go to question 38,” she says as she pours him a mug too because she is a Good Friend.

“‘What is Superman's favorite food?’” Clark reads dispassionately. He meets her eyes. “Are you drunk?”

“What? No!”

“High?”

“You’ve got to be joking.”

“Brainwashed?”

“Oh my god.” 

Clark adopts a supremely constipated look. “Normally, I wouldn’t ask a woman this, but you’re acting so strangely.” He inhales a sharp breath. “Is it your time of –”

“You finish that sentence, and you’re a dead man, Kent,” Lois growls.

“But –”

She flaps her free hand in his direction as she sips at her coffee. “Keep reading.”

He taps her phone back awake. “‘Superman: While I’ve eaten food from all over the world,’” he narrates, “my favorite has to be apple pie.’” Rolling his eyes, Clark says, “So Superman likes apple pie. What are we going to learn next, that his favorite sport is baseball, America’s pastime, and his favorite game show is Wheel of Fortune, America’s game? The guy has a very well-established theme.”

“Jesus Christ, and people think I’m the impatient one,” Lois says as she drains her coffee and reaches for Clark’s untouched mug. “Keep going.”

“Hey!” Clark grabs his coffee. “Get your own!”

Lois holds up both hands in a gesture of no harm. “Fine, fine, just keep reading.”

“‘There’s this bakery, Annette’s, in Dodge City, that makes the best pie I’ve ever eaten.’” Clark swallows. He sets down Lois’s phone on the counter. “What does this have to do with anything?”

“Superman has never officially been seen near Dodge City,” Lois says triumphantly. “The closest he has ever been recorded was Enid, Oklahoma, for tornado relief eighteen months ago.”

Clark blinks. “So?”

“It’s like you’re being deliberately obtuse,” Lois scolds as she helps herself to a refill of coffee. “So, I called Annette’s.”

Clark’s eyes go almost comically wide behind his glasses. “You did what? Why?”

“I called them,” Lois repeats, “to ask if Superman has ever stopped by for pie.”

Clark drags a hand down his face. “Of course you did,” he mutters. “And what did Annie tell you?”

Lois cocks her head, her mouth lifting into a too-wide smile. “So you know Annette’s too.” She taps her fingers eagerly against the edge of her mug. “I thought so. Dodge City is the closest ‘big city’ to Smallville, right?”

“Right,” Clark says, and by the look on his face, he can already tell where this is going.

“Annette said she’s never seen Superman in her life.” Lois’s grin widens. “So Superman must have visited in disguise.”

Clark's face twitches. “Oh – oh no, Lois.”

“I’ve booked us two tickets on the next flight to Topeka.” She lifts one shoulder in a half-shrug, half-apology. “No direct flights to Dodge City from Metropolis.”

Alarmed, Clark starts, “Lois, I can’t just up and leave –”

“Sure you can,” Lois interrupts. “Bring your laptop. You can write up your articles on the plane or in the rental. We’ll have plenty of downtime to work.”

“But Mrs. Hannigan –”

“We’ll be gone for 48 hours, tops,” Lois says as she grabs her phone. “I’m sure whatever your neighbor needs can wait.”

“Lois –”

“Pack light. I only budgeted carry-ons.”

“But –”

“Our flight is at 7:40, so I figure we should leave at 5:30 just to be safe.”

“I –”

“Come on,” Lois says, her own impatience growing. “This could be huge. If Superman can successfully disguise himself, he might have used it in other places too! He might have a whole civilian identity – I can’t believe I’ve never even considered it before!”

Clark just stares at her. 

“Well?” she demands. “What are you waiting for?”

“For you to come to your senses,” Clark says frankly. “This is crazy.”

“It’s a solid lead!” 

Clark’s expression turns… pitying, and a stone drops into the pit of Lois’s stomach. He starts, “Are you sure you’re alright? After Tuesday, even I expected you to take a day or two to recover.”

“Recover? Recover from what?” Lois crosses her arms over her chest, her stare steely. 

“Almost dying?” Clark says plainly. 

Lois makes a derisive noise in the back of her throat. “As if that doesn’t happen every Tuesday.” She casts him an appraising look. “And I didn’t need Superman, anyway. I had my best guy, Clark, to save the day.”

But instead of looking reassured, Clark looks even more troubled.

“What,” Lois says flatly. 

Clark shakes his head. “It’s nothing.”

“You’ve already called me crazy and implied I’m ejecting all my common sense along with the lining of my uterus,” Lois says dispassionately. “What’s one more offense?”

Clark’s shoulders slump, his spine bows, and he exhales an exhausted sigh. “You always do this.”

“Do what –”

“Run from strong emotions instead of confronting them.”

“Excuse me,” Lois interjects, her temper racing from 0 to 60 in a fraction of a second. “I have no fucking idea what gave you that bright idea –”

“Of course,” Clark cuts her off, eyes flashing behind his smudged lenses. “Who knows where I came up with that, when you’re so open and vulnerable at the best of times.”

Lois could slap him. So enraged she can barely get the words out, “I come to you – I thought –”

Clark reaches towards her, thinks better of it, and wraps his hand around his half empty mug instead. “Look, I’m not trying to make you mad –”

Lois says, “Great fucking job so far, really a stellar example of –”

“I’m just saying,” Clark says loudly, “you don’t have to be drunk or so sleep deprived you’re hallucinating to talk to me about what’s bothering you.”

“Nothing’s bothering me except you!” Lois snarls, her voice way too high, the words way too fast. “Jesus, Clark. Newsflash, I’ve had ten near-death experiences just this year, and it’s barely April! And I’m fine. Just because you freak out at the first sign things are going south doesn’t mean the rest of us can’t handle it.”

Clark nods once, his face shuttering.

The guilt hits her like a freight train. She – she didn’t mean any of that. It just came out, in the heat of the moment.

Clark has proven plenty of times that he’s no coward. 

“I see,” Clark says, and the contrast between her sharp tone and his defeated words couldn’t be starker. “In that case, I’ll probably head back to bed. You’re welcome to stay over until your flight tomorrow.”

She forces out past the lump in her throat, “You’re leaving?”

Clark inhales a slow breath. “No, Lois. As far as I see it, you’re leaving, for Kansas, of all places,” he barks a short, humorless laugh. He meets her eyes. “But, let me remind you, you don’t have to. Nobody is forcing you to get on that plane.” He starts to get up. 

“Clark, wait.”

Clark freezes, half sitting, half standing, hovering awkwardly over the bar stool. 

Lois rakes a hand through her hair, frizzing at her temples and curling at the ends. “I – I came here because I couldn’t handle being alone. I thought I’d have an easier time convincing you to go Kansas than anywhere else. I haven’t slept in three days. I blew through all three of my emergency smoke packs. I know I look like a trainwreck.”

“Lois,” Clark says as he slowly gets to his feet, “I mean this with all respect for you as a woman and a reporter, but I’ve definitely seen you look worse.” He circles the counter, arms already outstretched. 

“You’re such an ass,” Lois mumbles as he envelopes her in a firm hug.

“It’s been said before,” Clark rumbles in her ear. “Mostly by Ma when I eat the last slice of pie and don’t tell her.”

Lois chuckles a watery laugh. “Apple pie from Annette’s?”

“Of course.” He pulls back, smoothes down her hair and eyes her seriously. “You’re welcome to stay here as long as you need. Or I can camp out at your place – you have a better view than I do.”

“Mm hm,” she hums as she wipes at her eyes. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” Clark promises as he wraps her in another hug. 

“That’s what I thought about him,” Lois says into his shirt. 

Clark freezes. 

“And I know it’s irrational. I know it’s crazy. I know it’s probably my PMS talking. But he – he’s never not shown up. I waited,” she hiccups, “I waited for an hour after everything died down, and he never showed. He’s always apologized before. He’s always found the time. And I keep wondering – did I push him too far? Is he,” her breath hitches, “is he finally tired of everything I put him through? It’s been five years of this shit.”

“No, no, never,” Clark swears, hugging her tighter. 

“I wouldn’t blame him.”

“I would.”

Lois snorts. She draws back, horrified at the snot she sprayed all over Clark’s shirt. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s just a shirt,” Clark says quickly. “Don’t worry about it.”

“But –”

He cuts her off with a swift kiss to her forehead. “It’s fine. I don’t care.”

She stares up at him, a strange, foreign heat curling deep in her belly the longer he stays there, not moving, leaving their mouths inches apart. 

She surges up on her tiptoes and kisses him. 

It takes her only a fraction of a second to realize he isn’t kissing her back. In fact, it’s quite like kissing a statue, which Lois once did on a dare on a 7th grade field trip to the Art Museum of Star City. He’s warm, unlike the marble, but that’s really her only saving grace.

God, her face feels like it’s on fire. She skitters back, looking anywhere but at Clark. “Right, um,” she says, and, Jesus Christ, what should she do with her hands? She plasters them to her thighs. No, that’s awkward. She shoves them in her pockets instead. “Sorry, I don’t know what came over me,” she says, the words nearly tripping over themselves in her haste to get them out. “It’s late. I’m a mess. You’re… too nice.”

In her peripheral vision, Clark just blinks, slack-jawed, at her.

“I think I’ll actually head home. Might be better for – well, I’m sorry.”

Clark swallows. “You already said that.”

“Sorry,” Lois says automatically before she snaps her jaw shut with an audible click. “Shit, now I’m sounding like you.” She backs out of the kitchen, awkwardly ambling blindly through the doorway with her hands still shoved in her pockets. “You apologize too much,” she brilliantly comes up with next, and, god, she could hit herself since Clark has not apologized once while she’s acting like a runner-up in the apology Olympics. She’s making no fucking sense, and Clark is going to leave, and she’s going to lose the best friend she ever had, the one who has always been there for her when it counted, because she has such shit impulse control –

“I think you need to sleep,” Clark says gently. He pushes his glasses back into place; they got knocked askew when she jumped him.

“Yeah, that sounds good,” she agrees quickly. “Where’s my purse? I think I –”

“Stay,” Clark says as he nudges her in the direction of his bedroom. “It’s too late to head back to your place.”

“I don’t want to make you uncom –”

“I insist,” Clark says. “If you’re going to leave, you’re going to have to go through me first.”

She tries again, “But –”

“You’re exhausted,” Clark points out. “And short – even in heels. You’re not going to win this.”

Lois grimaces. “This is ridiculous.”

“Sure is,” Clark says amiably. “But then again, you wouldn’t be Lois Lane if you gave up at the first sign of resistance. That said, I’m afraid you’re going to lose this battle.”

“You're serious,” she says as she pulls her hands out of hear pockets to twist them anxiously together. “You really want me here? After... I... did that?” She swallows. “This isn't just your midwestern manners talking?”

“No,” Clark says simply.

She shakes her head. “You’re still an ass for calling me short. I’ll stay. But,” she points a finger in his face, “I’m finally taking the couch.”

“I can’t let you sleep on the couch,” Clark says, scandalized.

“Sure you can,” Lois says as she holds up her hand. “Rock paper scissors.”

“Just take the bed,” he sighs. “You always have in the past.”

“Unless you’re going to bodily haul me over your shoulder like a caveman,” she says shrewdly, “I’m sleeping on the couch.”

Clark loses rock paper scissors. As she makes up the couch with his help (she couldn’t win that one), he says without meeting her eyes, “I think you might be onto something with the secret identity thing.”

Lois’s fingers tighten around the cushion in her hands. “Seriously?”

Clark smiles, but there’s something off about it. He’s nervous, maybe scared? They’ve already turned off most of the lights, she’s practically seeing double with exhaustion, and he’s half-turned away from her. 

She can’t get a read on him at all.

“Give me a few days.” He swallows. “I might take you up on that trip to Kansas after all.”

Read the next Part V here!

Head back to Part I here!

[queenofmorningstar]

Can you do general romantic relationship hcs for Zestial x female! reader who's his wife and was his wife when they were alive as well and she's extremely powerful and is known as The High Priestess?

Zestial x Wife! Reader

Notes: Thanks for the ask, this was so fun to think about! ✨I hope you like it! I ended up writing a background storyline (oops). Due to Zestial being referred as 'ancient', I've taken both him and reader to be alive during 1590s - 1600s. On Ao3 as well.

CW: 16th C patriarchal society and norms, Elizabethan Age, Incorrect Old English maybe??? storyline followed by headcanons

When you were alive, your family had already arranged a marriage during your late teens, which was common during that era, but you disagreed with this. But having no power or say, you were married regardless.

However, you were ready. You had heard among the noblewoman that there was an inner ring that sold poison of various kinds for abusive husbands. And so, during the marriage night, you administered the poison. Though women couldn’t purchase property, they could inherit it. So you were settled in life, you only had to act like a poor widow when interacting outside.

Zestial, at that time, was in the espionage system directly under the Queen. He was known as the Spider, due to his silent way of killing the enemy without any mayhem. He’d uncovered many conspiracies that threatened the Queen, so he was trusted with the high amount of poisons that were sold to women as well. You’d helped a lot of other women too.

(Un)Fortunately, Zestial found out about you first. He was ready to arrest you. You did not flinch when the handsome stranger found you. “Thou art the viper who hath sent ten men to graves unblessed. By order of Her Majesty the Queen, I am bound to place thee under arrest for the crime of murder.”

You spoke quietly. “Then arrest me, good sir. And let thy Queen’s justice fall swift upon me… but tell me—dost thou believe her throne were built by the hands of men alone?”

He narrowed his eyes. He had expected fear, perhaps pleas, perhaps a weak woman desperate for forgiveness. “Thou speakest in riddles, poisoner. What hast thou to do with Her Majesty’s works?”

You rose, voice sharpening with anger. “I do the work she cannot . I cleanse this realm of beasts who wear the guise of husbands—men who strike with fists and call it marriage.”

Zestial stepped closer, his eyes like emeralds in the candlelight. “The law is not thine to wield, madam. Thou art no judge.”

You didn’t back down. “And yet I judged rightly. I ask thee— why must we suffer so? Was I born lesser for the shape of my flesh? Shall my soul be chained because I bleed with the moon? Nay. Do not forget sir, that a woman sits on the throne.”

He stared, unmoving. A low chuckle, dark and dry, unfurling from his throat. That night, the Queen received no prisoner. But he reassured her that the poisoners would not be used against her, but for her cause.

You both worked under Her orders, and you couldn’t be happier. The Queen paid for your services, and no one dared to accuse you of anything in public. Zestial often visited you in your gardens, where you kept poisonous plants and flowers.

🕸️ Zestial, though had killed many, was a gentleman while courting you. He often brought you bouquets of belladonnas, and chaste kisses on your hands often followed. Zestial does not fall in love gently. Once he is yours, he is entirely yours. There's no middle ground.

🕸️ Zestial also often read with you various plays and sonnets that were in fashion during that time. He enjoyed “Macbeth” greatly due to all the madness and doom.

🕸️ When he married you in life, you were both fighting off a horde of enemies. A gash split across his side, and still he stood. But for the first time, fear crept into his heart, not for his life, but for the words yet unspoken.

🕸️ He turned to you, voice hoarse yet sure and spoke, "If this be my end, let me not go without this vow: Marry me, my love. Let thine heart be bound to mine, ere death do claim us.”

🕸️ Your sword parried a strike meant for him. You didn’t not falter, only glanced toward him and shouted, "Survive this folly, and I shall grant thee my hand!”

🕸️ You both died early in your 30s (according to that era). In Hell, Zestial wielded immense power, and so did you. You both gained territory quickly, and able to hold it for centuries was an immense task worth praise. You were both feared. In hell, you were happy to do as you please, since there were no rules. 

🕸️ You took on the title of The High Priestess - that fuels the fear and paranoia among sinners. You often wore a veil on your face, and rumours spread that even a look in your eyes could turn people mad. You often joked with him on this. “Art thou not afeard to look into mine eyes? Many a man hath seen their own ruin there.”

🕸️ “Nay, enchantress. For I am already mad — mad with love for thee. What fear hath he who is already lost?”

🕸️ He never says it, but he hates when other men look at you too long. He’ll never admit it outright. He simply becomes quieter. Stiffer. His shadow coils a little tighter around you. The tension in his jaw, the lower eyes narrowing—if anyone dares touch you without permission, they disappear within days. No blood. Just gone. 

🕸️ You often mixed small doses of poison in his tea; he is immune to all kinds of poison due to you, adding to his power. Now, he doesn’t like tea without your making.

🕸️ He likes to watch you do mundane things—brushing your hair, tidying up, humming. He finds these rituals grounding. He’ll silently assist by moving objects for you with shadows, subtly but helpfully.

🕸️ He prefers quiet evenings together, reading or walking through his domain, sharing intellectual conversations.

🕸️ Zestial’s hands are always an extension of his need to protect. He often rests his hands on your waist or shoulder, it's a form of trust—letting you know you are safe with him.

🕸️ He doesn’t “do” PDA. When alone, though? He’s quietly affectionate. He remembers everything. A casual remark you made about liking violets? A garden of them now grows in the centre of his domain.

🕸️ In public, he is composed, respectful, and subtly protective. He stands close, shadows curling protectively around you. He doesn't kiss you in front of others—but his hand may rest on the small of your back in an unspoken claim.

🕸️ In private, he worships you quietly. Long touches. Quiet murmurs of your name like a prayer. His affection is devotional. When you ask if he loves you, he doesn’t say yes, because those words feel too little to what he feels. “Your name is stitched into the seams of my soul. Does the sea say it loves the moon?”

🕸️ Physical intimacy with Zestial isn’t about just passion—it’s about connection. When he kisses you, it’s slow, deliberate, and measured. His lips are gentle but firm, making sure you feel the weight of his affection without rushing.

🕸️ He enjoys strategizing with you—war councils that end in intimate evenings. You might spar together, mentally or physically, and each clash is like foreplay. In bed, he doesn’t often indulge in sex, but when he does, he can go on throughout the night. You will glimpse the first rays of dawn when he is done with you.

🕸️ Whether in Hell’s politics or in battles, Zestial would take pride in creating plans with you, making sure everything runs smoothly and efficiently. You’d often be in sync in ways that no one else could understand, reading each other’s moves without a single word spoken.

🕸️ Zestial would see you as a true equal, never beneath him. You’d challenge each other, but it would make you both stronger.

🕸️ Nicknames from him will include: Dearest, Enchantress & My Love. 

🕸️ When you’re angry at him, Zestial doesn’t beg or argue. He just gives you space. He won’t chase unless he believes you want him to.

🕸️ When he proposed again, it would not be loud or grand. To him, it’s a personal affair that is only meant for both of you. Even though it’s just both of you, he will not spare any effort to please you. The aisle will be set up according to all your wishes. 

🕸️ The ring will be a mix of both your sigils - spider and skull. He won’t actively announce it to people, but everyone will know.

[rahuratna]

Love Thine Enemy

The JJK sorcerers find themselves faced with a slippery customer - a cursed spirit with the worst pick-up lines imaginable ...

CW: Suggestive and explicit language.

Characters: Ijichi, Nanami, Ino, Kusakabe, Gojo, Yuuta, Miwa, Rika.

Genres: Crack, humour.

It was Ijichi who encountered the cursed spirit first. He was, in fact, probably present for the series of events that had birthed the unfortunate being into existence.

The exorcism he was assisting on was currently taking place in a well-known photography studio, known for its high production value photo shoots of models, actors and sports stars. Somehow, this place had become a breeding ground of negative energy. Ijichi could feel it, soaking into the very fabric of the building, saturating it until it came flooding out in a sickly, sour-edged aura.

The exorcism had gone successfully enough, with Ijichi producing his well-practiced veil, covering the area in a dense, impenetrable curtain. It was when everything was seemingly over, when the grade two sorcerer, Kiryu, had spoken in crackly fashion into his ear piece, that Ijichi felt it.

That sly, barely perceptible winging of cursed energy just within his radar. Spinning on his heel, Ijichi scanned the area where he stood, just outside the building. Something was here. He had no doubt. He'd felt it, and he trusted his instincts.

Warily entering the small alleyway where he'd felt the presence, Ijichi knew that Gojo would have his head on a platter if he knew the risk that he was taking, but he couldn't very well leave without investigating fully. What if there had been something the sorcerers had missed?

That something was eerily evident when he felt it coalesce in the alley behind him. Before Ijichi had any chance to react, something brimming and fetid with cursed energy brushed his ear, and a voice whispered to him.

"Hey, cutie. Want me to fog up those glasses of yours?"

Ijichi, who had been preparing for a quick getaway, froze in place.

"Wha - "

"You heard me. Hmmmmm. I like that little pocket organizer. Got something else in your pocket for me?"

"Are ... are you - "

"You're stuttering right now, but did I? Don't think so. What're you packing, hot stuff? I like my men skinny, timid and begging for a spanking - "

There comes a moment, in everyone's life, when their most primal survival instincts kick in. There is a shutdown of unnecessary bodily functions as a fight-or-flight response asserts itself, lending unnatural speed or strength.

This was one of those times for Ijichi. The discarded newspapers in the alley fluttered gently in the aftermath of his very speedy exit.

Ijichi did report it, of course, being the stickler for proper mission protocol that he was. Thus it was that the next unfortunate encounter with the dastardly 'flirting curse' occurred with none other than Kusakabe.

The curse had moved on from the photography studio, to some hotel in an upmarket area nearby. Not good for business, obviously. Atsuya thought it would be excellent practice for the students, however, and so had brought Miwa along. While Ijichi's experience told him that the spirit hadn't been particularly dangerous, evolution was a possibility, and so he intended to stick close by.

Prowling through the airy, marble floored corridors, Atsuya unwrapped a lollipop and stuck it between his teeth. This hunt was taking a little longer than expected. The spirit was good at remaining concealed. Yawning a little, he linked his fingers and stretched his arms overhead, hearing a satisfying crack.

"Sensei!"

Miwa's warning shout was entirely unnecessary, as Atsuya's sword was already unsheathed, glinting menacingly as he faced off against the dark cloud that descended from the ceiling, adopting a vaguely feminine shape. The voice that spoke was indeed an evolution, sultrier, with a husky cast.

"My my. I do love a man in a suit. I bet that lollipop takes the shape of your tongue, just like my pu- "

"Cut the crap," Atsuya growled. "Miwa, stay alert."

"Easy, tiger. You're a little rough around the edges. Are you rough between the sheets too, big boy?"

Miwa let out a surprisingly martial yell, springing forward and slashing at the fog-like miasma. Her attack was true, but the spirit was obviously talented at evading.

"Stop harassing sensei, you cow!"

A hushed giggle reached their ears.

"The kitten has teeth. Wonder if you bite too, my Trenchcoat Tomcat. Wanna get to the nice, creamy centre of my lollipop?"

Despite Miwa's impressive efforts, Atsuya was growing increasingly annoyed with this spirit. Couldn't it just shut up? Discreetly, he let a near-invisible slash from his sword reach the end of the room. Part of the wall crumbled; gilt wallpaper sliced to shreds. The spirit was now on the other end of the hallway, that irritating cackle now echoing, elusive.

"Oh goodness. What a hairy temper. Wonder if you're hairy everywhere, huh? I like a bit of manhandling from a big, hunky - "

"Ewwwwww!"

Miwa's horrified scream was a tad juvenile, but Atsuya couldn't really blame her. The curse evaded them this time, escaping through a nearby window, leaving him with the strong desire to scrub himself clean. He almost didn't unwrap another lollipop.

Inexcusable.

And that was how Nanami and Ino ended up dealing with the flirting curse next. At this point, it had become a running bet in the grade one sorcerer group chat as to who would run into it in their upcoming mission.

Gojo would win some cash. Not that he needed it.

Ino was the first to come across it. They'd found themselves in a country club of sorts, the kind only present in this kind of affluent area. Out near the pool and suana, Ino had tugged off his shirt, diving into the water and performing a rapid check for traces on the pool floor. Finding nothing, he'd re-emerged and climbed out, water dripping down his bare chest, when he heard it.

"Damn, sugar. You got me so thirsty on a hot day like this."

There was a woman seated on one of the poolside chairs, shaded by a parasol. She hadn't been there just a few minutes ago. Ino tensed, fists bunching at his sides. Unperturbed, she pulled down her sunglasses, her dark, dark eyes tracking the droplets of water as they made their slow pathway down the young man's abs. She licked her lips.

"Want me to dry you off, honey? Or make you ... more wet? I bet I can show you a thing or two."

Ino opened his mouth to retort, but at that moment, the woman's eyes widened, and she vanished in a wisp of smoke as a powerful slash of electric blue energy bisected her chair and destroyed the wall behind her. Nanami strode out of the wide glass doors, rolling up his sleeves, blonde hair gleaming in the sunlight. If Ino didn't know any better, he'd say the stoic sorcerer looked annoyed.

Nanami straightened his glasses and inspected the ghostly movement of the spirit with predatory menace.

"I'll thank you to leave my colleague out of this. Now why don't you take a more corporeal form so we can see how ... appealing you are."

A soft shriek of laughter reached their ears.

"And what do we have here? A real daddy, looks like. Coming to protect your cub? I'll let you fill me up so much. I bet I can give you ten more cubs like him."

"Unfortunately for you, unprotected sex with cursed spirits is not one of my preferences. Now stay still, please."

Nanami was undoing his tie, and Ino saw this as his cue to make a hasty retreat to the entrance, because things were bound to get dangerous. The spirit hadn't received the same signal, because it was still speaking.

"I can be a human for you. Heck, I can be anything you want me to be. Why don't you tie up my wrists and make me feel how hard you can - "

"How hard? Here, let me show you."

The sheer power of the blast sent bricks and mortar rocketing across the paved driveway beyond the wall of the pool area. Ino gave silent thanks that they'd evacuated the building first. Nanami wasn't usually this reckless with his strength, but something about this spirit was obviously pushing his buttons.

In the chaos that followed the settling of dust and rubble, the spirit had made a hasty escape once again. Sighing, Nanami re-did his tie, making his way over to Ino. The younger sorcerer eyed him curiously.

"You good?"

"Yes."

Nanami's angry mumbling wasn't fooling anyone however. Ino caught the tail end of his complaint.

" ... as if I didn't have to deal with harassment at my other job. And here we are, having to listen to this drivel. Didn't even have the decency to introduce itself ... "

Lips pursing tightly, Ino hid his amusement as he followed Nanami back into the country club, snatching up his shirt as he did so.

Gojo was not a good match-up for the spirit, when he inevitably did encounter it. Unlike the other sorcerers, he couldn't be bothered to take it seriously. The spirit registered as a bothersome house fly in his periphery as he stalked bigger prey through a deserted shopping mall, one that had been evacuated due to Jujutsu Tech's influence.

Gojo was hunting a rogue curse user, one that had plagued the market district at night, consuming his victims in alleyways he had dragged them into. A real piece of work.

When he eventually found the curse user, holed up in a frozen meat section, sharpening his tools, Gojo did take note of another brief, flitting presence that wove in and out of his perception. Another curse. But one unrelated to his current mission.

With his usual power, flair and panache, Gojo dispatched the curse user, dodging and weaving gracefully around the other's lightning fast strikes and dealing a concussive blow to his opponent's head. Someone in the background was cheering for him.

"Oh, God damn, aren't you just in a different league? That hair, that face, that body. Mmmmm hmmmm. Whip his ass, boss man. Show him who's in charge. Make him crawl. Make him beg."

Gojo turned slightly towards the direction of the voice, smile simultaneously pleasant and flippant.

"And who are you, pretty gal?"

The curse, for the first time ever, faltered.

"Uh ... I'm ... well, I'm me. Your number one admirer. Ahem. Yes. You sexy beast. So tall. I'll bet you're really long everywhere."

At this, Gojo's lips curved into a cocky smile and he flicked his wrist, sending the curse user careening into a nearby wall, smashing into the bricks with force, head lolling as the pain of consciousness was given up for blissful darkness. The crystalline flame of Gojo's gaze danced with flickering intensity in the shadow of the dimly lit storefronts.

"Hell yeah. Didn't know you were kinky like that, babes. I got a pretty sizeable monster, right here, behind this zipper. Wanna come see?"

The spirit laughed, but something about it sounded nervous, uncertain.

"And what's in it for me, big boy?"

Gojo spread out his arms, grin growing more feral by the second.

"But sweetcheeks, I thought we had an understanding. I was gonna try out my new technique, that's all. The one where I turn my cum into tiny bullets and fire them right into your mouth so you explode."

There was a brief silence.

"E - explode?"

"From pleasure, of course!" Gojo let out an unconvincing giggle, rubbing the back of his head. "Yeah. Can't believe I forgot that part."

Needless to say, Gojo didn't hear anything more from the curse. Its presence had disappeared from his perception fairly quickly. Tapping his chin, Gojo reflected on the fact that Nanami was right. This was one slippery customer.

The young man hadn't seemed like much from afar. Just another sorcerer on its trail. It had escaped all the others, including that powerful one in the deserted mall, so the curse now had a healthy dose of confidence in its ability to exit the stage.

Of course, even astute cursed spirits, like the Flirting Menace, faced their Waterloo at some point. Sometimes fate favours spirits, enabling a series of evolutions that render them more powerful. Sometimes, they pick the wrong victim entirely.

Slipping out of the laboratory at the medical centre it had been recently inhabiting, the curse took on the voluptuous form of a technician, her sizeable cleavage all but spilling from the low cut shirt she wore beneath a lab coat. The young man turned slowly, shadowed eyes taking in the shape of his opponent. The spirit spoke.

"Now you look like a treat, little lamb. Wanna come sit in my lap? I bet I can show you all kinds of things with my probe and pipette."

The response was certainly not one the spirit had been expecting. There was something in the sorcerer's eyes that was kind, pitying almost.

"Oh, there you are. How about you give up now and come quietly. It'll probably make things easier."

The spirit dissolved in a fit of giggles.

"Me? Come quietly? Baby boy, I have a much better idea. How about I discipline you with a paddle on your naughty, naughty, tight little ass until you obey your mistress? Even good boys need some discipline from time to time."

The look on the sorcerer's face had shifted to something like pained expectancy. He sighed and grimaced.

"If you stop doing that, she might not get so agitated, you know."

"She? Oh my. Don't tell me you're already taken. I mean, she's probably nothing compared to me - "

The spirit's words cut off abruptly as something large, vast and powerful, moving with ferocious speed, shot from inside the boy (how was that possible?) and coalesced in the middle of the foyer. Spiny white and purple flesh, an eyeless mask of menace, a presence that filled the building with sheer dread, the lesser cursed spirit could recognize an apex predator when it beheld one.

A moment of deep, existential fear gripped the flirting spirit as the young man addressed the spectre that had come from inside him.

"Rika?"

"Yuuttaaaaaa. I'll kill, kill, killkillkillkill. Don't look at Yuta. Don't talk to Yuta. Don't exist near Yuta!"

The nightmarish voice lashed through the foyer like a whip, buffeting the smaller curse with such malice that it was blown back.

Oh boy. Now this was ... unexpected. Time to beat a hasty retreat ...

As it had done countless times before, the cursed spirit slipped through a handy crack in the nearby elevator doors, seeking out the grate above through which it could ...

A sudden, white-hot pain lanced through its form, rendering it immobile. Panicking, the spirit glanced back, perceiving the hideous talon that had shot with unnatural speed across the space, through the doors, and speared its 'body' in place. In this incorporeal form, nothing should have been able to hold it down, besides ...

The elevator doors suddenly buckled under extreme force and the spirit found itself tugged back across the glossy tiles, towards the sorcerer and his ... companion. Slowly, surely, the spirit was dragged towards the jagged teeth of that gaping white maw, horror and finality warring as its brief existence flashed through its own memory.

The sorcerer was smiling now, the corners of his eyes crinkling in charming helplessness, such that the spirit could discern (too late) the terrifying and implacable steel behind those sweetly curving lips.

"I'm awfully sorry. You're kind of cute, for a spirit but ... Rika? Take care of this, would you?"

And so, the brief, but bright career of the Flirting Menace faded slowly from the memory of the sorcerers it had tormented. It had been unique, after all.

Even with their packed schedules and the increasing tension now permeating Jujutsu society, there were still occasions when Kusakabe would glance at the creamy centre of his lollipop with distaste, when Nanami would remember with fondness what it was like to destroy a millionaire's poolside aesthetic, when Gojo would wonder how much money he could have won if he'd just bet on Yuuta in the first place.

As terrible as those pick-up lines surely were, they had found a rightful place in posterity.

And in the mysterious depths of Rika's stomach, of course. 

[felassan]

Notes and thoughts on the companion Abilities we learned today -

just for reference a quick note again of what they are:

Harding - Seismic Shot; Heavy Draw; Shred; Adrenaline Rush; Soothing Potion Davrin - Battle Cry; Death from Above; Heroic Strike; Assan Strike; In War, Victory Bellara - Fade Bolts; Enfeebling Shot; Replenish; Time Slow; Galvanized Tear Taash - Fire Breath; Dragon's Roar; Dragonfire Strike; Spitfire; Fortune's Favor Lucanis - Eviscerate; Abominate; Soothing Potion; Debilitate; Adrenaline Rush Emmrich - Final Rites; Replenish; Entangling Spirits; The Bell Tolls; Time Slow Neve - Icebreaker; Blizzard; Glacial Pace; Time Slow; Replenish

Some Abilities are shared between companions. For example, both Lucanis and Harding have Adrenaline Rush and Soothing Potion, and Emmrich and Neve and Bellara all have Time Slow and Replenish. I think this is to do with the "core kits" that were mentioned before. like "Time Slow" for example as a part of the core kit for mage characters.

some of these Abilities we've seen demonstrated in gameplay videos so far or had shown/described in screenshots/articles before, like Death From Above. :>

Seismic Shot: since "seismic" can relate to earthquakes and other vibrations in the earth and its crust, this is a really cool name for one of Harding's moves (dwarf, Deep Roads, the Stone, Titans, her new earthbending skills etc) and I'm curious about both its gameplay effects and if it's tied to her new magical powers

Shred: arrowfire that shreds armor presumably

Soothing Potion and Replenish: both sound like heals

Heavy Draw: a heavy attack of Harding's? (Rook at least has access to both light attacks and heavy attacks)

Battle Cry: similar in name to previous abilities like War Cry and Battle Roar. Applies Taunted to enemies in the area

On Death From Above and Assan Strike. Death From Above deals high Stagger and can be used to deal damage from afar, presumably Assan Strike can also be used to deal damage from distance

In War, Victory: the Grey Warden motto will never not slap and evoke a great sense of heavy emotion.. 🥺 it was this part of the Grey Warden motto that was featured as a dialogue line in the release date reveal trailer. A+ name for a Grey Warden's move, no notes

Galvanized Tear: this ability is like a gravity well, it pulls enemies together. you can use it to draw enemies into one place

Adrenaline Rush: a buff that grants enhanced damage/enhances Rook's damage stats

Heroic Strike: applies the overwhelmed debuff. This causes the target to take additional Stagger ("deals high Stagger")

Eviscerate: At half health of less, this deals bonus damage, increasing in effectiveness the closer the target is to death. can be used to detonate a combo and strike a whole group of enemies

Abominate: Deals high Barrier damage and applies Knocked down to enemies in the area. can be used to knock enemies down. also, implications

Final Rites: it's giving finishing move vibes. I love the allusion to cultural practises like Last rights. very appropriate for a thoughtful, caring necromancer whose character is about exploring death and necromancy in a thoughtful nuanced way

The Bell Tolls: For Whom The Bell Tolls (two) reference? :) it's giving a 'your time alive is ending' or a 'your time as a spirit inhabiting this dead body is ending', clock strikes midnight, Cinderella-kinda vibe. bells toll in some places of worship when someone has died (funeral bells), or during other important life rites. also very appropriate for a necromancer

^ No man is an island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main. If a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less, as well as if a promontory were, as well as if a manor of thy friend’s or of thine own were: any man’s death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind, and therefore never send to know for whom the bells tolls; it tolls for thee.

Fortune's Favor: Lords of Fortune allusion, 'fortune favors the bold' :)

Taash has three abilities involving her fire-breathing and two with "dragon" in the name. 👀 they are really emphasizing the dragon connection/dragon symbolism and she is really living up to the "Ataashi" ('dragon, glorious one, great thing') in her name. in Trespasser Dragon's Breath was a Qunari conspiracy to kill most of the leadership of southern Thedas, involving explosives. I'm really curious about the specific mechanism or origin of her fire-breathing; like is she doing it the way fire-breathing performers do it irl (sounds kind of DA Artificer-y), or has she literally gained or developed some kind of literal innate fire-breathing draconic ability?

throwback to this post:

Maybe it was Taash who wrote this Codex, and the title is alliterative, “Taash Talks”? The writer comes across like a dragon enthusiast and it references being near the shore/sea. Iron Bull once said “So, when you face a dragon, does it get your heart pumping? Do you breathe a little faster, feel the blood racing?” (in the DA:TV trailer, Varric says that they will need someone “with fire in their blood” to face dragons).

Varric was being literal in that line huh. :D

the Qunari are known to hold dragons sacred. they have a physical similarity and some believe that the Tamassrans cultivate dragon blood within the Qunari, allowing some to tap into combat abilities similar to Reavers. is that practise the source of Taash's fire-breathing power? Kieran comments that Adaar's blood doesn't belong to their people. Cory also has weird comments about qunari blood. or maybe she just drank dragonblood? Reavers unlock powerful abilities by drinking it and a dragon-hunter would have access to dragonblood in abundance. Cassandra has dialogue where she tells the Inquisitor that her family used to be known for their Reavers. she says that too much dragonblood caused them to grow deformed, they grew scales and became more draconic than human. if there are legends of Reavers growing scales and draconic appearances after overindulging, why couldn't someone also breathe fire dragon-style? :D "igniting everything with draconic fury" makes me think of Reavery stuff too. Taash is out here living my Inquisitor's (who was a Reaver) dreams.

[ai-manre]

Jaya by Devdutt Pattnaik is the absolute worst trite nonsense, and this page is the best example of it. Let's compare with the real thing, shall we?

According to Devdutt Pattanaik, Krishna's reactions to the dyut sabha incident were as follows:

1) Jaya- Krishna to angry bheema "all five of you lost. All five of you must keep your word and suffer exile quietly. To keep your word is dharma." He says "you are responsible for rejecting Karna which has caused this."

In actual text (referencing KMG) Krishna: Respectfully saluting that foremost of the Kurus, Kesava (Krishna) mournfully said, 'The earth shall drink the blood of Duryodhana and Karna, of Dussasana and the wicked Sakuni! Slaying these in battle and defeating their followers along with their royal allies, will we all install Yudhishthira the just on the throne! The wicked deserve to be slain! Verily, this is eternal morality.'

Devdutt Pattnaik's Krishna scolds the victims and tells them keeping their word is dharma. But Mahabharata's Sri Krishna, burns and seethes at the act of harmful injustice! He is full of righteous anger and calls it the eternal morality for the wicked to be slain! His compassion and pain at the suffering of the victims is so apparent, so empathetic.

And what's more, he condemns Karna to death (as he should) for his horrible actions, not victim-blaming draupadi for that incel misogynist's molestation.

2) Jaya - Krishna to Draupadi: "you are responsible for rejecting Karna. A great warrior, he would never have gambled you. You chose Arjuna instead and look at you now."

Hahah the implication that somehow karna of all people is better than Arjuna!!

Let's see what the Mahabharata Krishna says in this scene shall we?

And when on account of the wrongs of Pritha's sons, Janardana had thus got into a passion, and seemed bent upon consuming all created things, Arjuna exerted himself to pacify him. And beholding Kesava angry, Falguna began to recite the feats achieved in his former lives by that soul of all things, himself immeasurable, the eternal one, of infinite energy, the lord of Prajapati himself, the supreme ruler of the worlds, Vishnu of profound wisdom!'

Arjuna has to calm down Krishna, who is soo angry at the injustice and cruelty that happened to draupadi and the Pandavas, that he seemed bent upon consuming all created things!

Continuing this, Arjuna narrates all great feats of Vishnu to Krishna to calm him down. At the end of his speech, Krishna says this:

Having addressed Krishna thus, the illustrious Pandava (Arjuna), who was the soul of Krishna, became dumb, when Janardana (Krishna) (in reply addressed that son of Pritha) saying, 'Thou art mine and I am thine, while all that is mine is thine also! He that hateth thee hateth me as well, and he that followeth thee followeth me! O thou irrepressible one, thou art Nara and I am Narayana or Hari! We are the Rishis Nara and Narayana born in the world of men for a special purpose. O Partha, thou art from me and I am from thee! O bull of the Bharata race, no one can understand the difference that is between us!'

Well well well, would you look at that? Instead of mocking draupadi for choosing arjuna over Karna as devdutt pattnaik shows, Krishna instead affirms his love for Arjuna in no uncertain terms, and declares that anyone who is arjuna's enemy is his own enemy, that they belong to eachother.

3) Jaya's Krishna says to draupadi "god does not hate you" (which btw sounds distinctly non-hindu, when do hindu scriptures ever speak of God loving us? Love is beautiful, but our gods' primary role is to preserve dharma and the law of karma) while also mocking her when she's at her worst situation.

What does mahabharata krishna say instead?

And wiping her eyes and sighing frequently she said these words angrily and in a choked voice, 'Husbands, or sons, or friends, or brothers, or father, have I none! Nor have I thee, O thou slayer of Madhu, for ye all, beholding me treated so cruelly by inferior foes, sit still unmoved! My grief at Karna's ridicule is incapable of being assuaged! On these grounds I deserve to be ever protected by thee, O Kesava (Krishna), viz., our relationship, thy respect (for me), our friendship, and thy lordship (over me)

"Vaisampayana continued, 'In that assembly of heroes Vasudeva (Krishna) then spake unto the weeping Draupadi as follows, 'O fair lady, the wives of those with whom thou art angry, shall weep even like thee, beholding their husbands dead on the ground, weltering in blood and their bodies covered with the arrows of Vivatsu (Arjuna)! Weep not, lady, for I will exert to the utmost of my powers for the sons of Pandu! I promise thou shalt (once more) be the queen of kings! The heavens might fall, or the Himavat might split, the earth might be rent, or the waters of the ocean might dry up, but my words shall never be futile!' Hearing those words of Achyuta in reply, Draupadi looked obliquely at her third husband (Arjuna). And, O mighty king, Arjuna said unto Draupadi, 'O thou of beautiful coppery eyes, grieve not! O illustrious one, it shall be even as the slayer of Madhu (Krishna) hath said! It can never be otherwise, O beautiful one!'

Look at this, this lovely relationships! Draupadi seeking solace in Krishna, ranting to him about evil people like Karna. Krishna consoling Draupadi assuring her that she will rule again and everyone who hurt her will die by Arjuna's arrows (love how he brings Arjuna into it!) and through his own machinations. Draupadi then looks to Arjuna for confirmation and he reassures as well while attesting that nothing Krishna said can be wrong. What a beautiful moment of friendship and recovery after such an ordeal! By people who trust eachother so much!

This wouldn't go for Devdutt Pattnaik though, might have interfered with his karna fantasies....

[stereopticons]

On This Day in Schitt's Creek: April 11

2019

(hey hey) we are a hurricane [david/patrick, NR, 1,111] by orphan_account

It had been an...interesting evening. The show had been absolutely spectacular; if he was completely honest, even Patrick was surprised how amazing it had been. He knew Stevie had a voice on her, but even he had been blown away by her performance - all those nights practising together and she'd been holding out!

Come and Get Your Love [david/patrick, T, 1,223] by thelightwitch

David was still upset about the botched engagement announcement when they got into bed that night. Patrick could tell by the slightly aggressive way he fluffed his pillow, huffing dramatically as he flopped down onto it. Patrick knew that his fiancé was a particular man, who liked everything – from his pillows to his important announcements – arranged just so, but he wasn’t exactly sure what was so vital about this. -- a little coda to 5x14, David finally gets to make his speech

Find Some Daylight [stevie & david, NR, vid] by BeatriceEagle

Just because you're not in love, doesn't mean it's not a love story. Fanvid to "Risk" by Metric.

keep me in your glow [david/patrick, T, 3,192] by @brewerspatrick

David and Patrick take a trip to Bed, Bath & Beyond.

2020

Ever Mine, Ever Thine, Ever Ours [david/patrick, M, 198,942] by Aelia_Gioia

Patrick Brewer didn't believe in fate. He was too practical.He moved far away from his family and friends to escape the life everyone expected that he'd have. Then he met David Rose and everything started to fall into place.

Honey and Tea [david/patrick, G, 2,841] by @agoodpersonrose

Patrick gets sick and (to the surprise of everyone) David is incredibly good at looking after him.

I Climbed the Tree to See the World [gen, G, 139] by alittlebitannie

A moment with Alexis.

I Try to Be a Good Kid [david/patrick, T, 3,121, CW: self-harm] by @metalshootingstar

After getting suspended from school, Cole spends the rest of the afternoon with his Aunt Alexis and discovers some things about David that he hadn't known before.

i try to capture every minute [clint & patrick, G, 645] by @hullomoon

Patrick has a moment with his parents before the wedding.

Is this what marriage is? [david/patrick, T, 730] by @startswithhope

Oops, I slipped and wrote another coda. David and Patrick finally get back to their apartment the morning after their wedding.

let the soft thing of your body love what it loves [david/patrick, G, 3,216] by @ships-to-sail

The shoulders of the jacket fall broad and straight, the kind of strong geometric lines he loves, a simple white pocket square left in the small plastic accessory bag attached to the hanger. There’s a grosgrain piping that edges the jacket and moves the eye down the line of his chest. He pulls the cuffs over his wrists and smiles at the subtle black-and-white stripes lining the inside of the jacket, details no one may ever see but that make the coat feel less like an outfit, and more like a memory waiting to be made. He slips the skirt over his hips, smiling at himself in the mirror as the hemline falls perfectly at his knees. The lower pleat of the skirt falls behind him, grazing his calves like a whisper, and even without the white-barred socks and combat boots he’s got safely in a box at home already — it’s perfect. It’s a softening and a firmness that reminds him of rose thorns, of the way he and Patrick fit and meld to one another. He’d sat in front of his dream house and cracked his heart open and spoken about winning and in this moment, in this outfit, he feels like he’s won.

Push and Pull [david/patrick, E, 63,570] by @samwhambam

There was a large billboard ahead and he let his foot off the gas, slowing the car down and pulling off the road. The headlights lit up the sign and David couldn’t hold back the watery laugh, letting his head fall forward, forehead digging into the steering wheel. Schitt’s Creek. It’s real? Or, an enemies to lovers au

something good [david/patrick, NR, 3,859] by foodoflovee

An exploration of why Ronnie and Patrick have the feud they do (spoiler: it's because they both love David so much), and a bit of resolution at the end. “You know, I always told him that I wasn’t judging you, or trying to protect him from you. I was just rooting for him, specifically, to find something good, whoever that was.” He nods along, trying to follow what Ronnie's saying. “But now, you know, I am rooting for you. I want you to be his something good. Don’t let me down, Brewer.”

Squeaky Floorboards [david/patrick, G, 2,731] by @mostlyinthemorning

A few short scenes from the first few months in David and Patrick's new house.

Surprisingly Soft [david/patrick, G, 490] by @delilah-mcmuffin

Prompt fill for the_hodag: something with Ronnie & Patrick at the reception

The Halloween Boos [david/patrick, T, 3,320] by impressmyism

“Maybe we should go to that party. We’ll take off early, get dressed in a costume, enjoy candy. That doesn’t sound fun?” Halloween comes to Schitt's Creek in the form of a party!

Three Spoons [david/patrick, G, 311] by @delilah-mcmuffin

Prompt fill for goodmorninglovelies: David, Patrick and Stevie cuddle together

When the Day is Through [david/patrick, G, 2,798] by odofidi

A week after Johnny and Moira's departure to Los Angeles, Alexis makes her leave for New York. David, Patrick, Stevie, and Alexis all say their goodbyes as their group becomes just a little smaller, a little more scattered.

You've Got Mail [david/patrick, T, 18,821] by @paceyjay

“Welcome! You’ve got mail.” Patrick smiled to himself, his heart skipping a beat as it seemed to do every time he heard those words these days.

2021

Blessing [patrick & stevie, G, 868] by @rmd-writes

In which Patrick asks for Stevie’s blessing to marry David.

David Rose is Fine, Totally Fine [david/patrick, E, 4,720] by Lotuscatthe1st

David struggles to overcome his fears. Small scene of mild violence and some trauma that he must deal with.

Free to Be Okay [david/patrick, M, 1,310] by @shimmies

"My fiancé," Patrick murmurs, and David can feel the smile pressed against his cheek, the bare chest pressed against his own, hot, flushed, and sweaty. Patrick's fingers slot between his where thick bands of gold now rest. "Was it really the easiest decision of your life?" David blurts out, unable to stop his thoughts becoming sounds, like a tiny anxiety-demon taking up residence on his shoulder and constantly forcing words from his mouth. Fuck. ----- David and Patrick work through some insecurities about getting engaged. ----- TW for brief mention of suicidal thoughts.

Husbands [david/patrick, M, 469] by @rmd-writes

“I can’t believe you sang Mariah to me! Mariah!”“I can’t believe you joked about happy endings!” *** A short dialogue only look into what happened after David & Patrick's wedding ceremony.

I knead a lover to give me the kind of love that would last always [david/patrick, E, 3,349] by @cheesecurdsgravyandfries

A muffled affirmation comes from the figure lying face down. The figure that is registering rapidly in David’s brain as fucking Patrick Brewer. With a whoosh, David closes the door and steps to the side, leaning up against the wall. He feels faint, his hands are clammy and the smug faces of Blue Jays of the past framed on the wall in front of him are really not helping. What the fuck is he supposed to do now?

I've been loving you for quite some time [alexis/twyla, M, 600] by budd

Instead of letting Twyla walk out of her motel room during "Start Spreading the News", she asks her to spend the night. #9: "Sleep over? Please?"

Kenya [johnny/moira, G, 300] by Rosey_Peach

Mensch [david/patrick, T, 4,513] by DrClaraMandrake

“Your mother told me what happened with that Sebastien Raine character.” Fuck fucking fuckety fuck. I know my mother has a really hard time keeping a secret, but I honestly didn’t expect her to rat me out as a man whore to my dad. I sat there furious and cringing, and hoped to god that an asteroid was going to hurtle down from the sky and obliterate me from the face of the earth. No such luck. My dad kept on talking. In the aftermath of the Sebastien Raine affair, David tries to deal.

Step One, Step Two, Step Three, Repeat [david/patrick, T, 3,993] by @brobeckology @egoanesthesia

Patrick feels his phone buzz in his hand with a sequence of texts from Alexis. Alexis: Morning button!!! 🥰 I have something to showwww uuuu 😇😋 vm.tiktok.com/ZMJEcUYqR/ Can u like make david do this w u?? Like imagine!!!! 🤩 Patrick: Good morning Alexis! I'll see what I can do! That's a cute video! Alexis: Yay!!!! Thank you!! I knew there was a reason ur my fav brother 😘💕 Patrick watches the video a few more times, trying to think of a plan to get his husband to be a part of this. He decides that breakfast and a coffee are a good start so he sets to work making pancakes and a macchiato.

When I'm with you, I can almost forget [david/patrick, T, 3,844, CW: eating disorders] by petrichor_apothecary

David has been having a slip for the past couple days and Patrick is there for him.

2022

Kiss me, Cowboy [david/patrick, M, 5,027] by Doug_Judy

Patrick takes a trip to NYC to spread his baby gay wings. A mysterious and heartbroken man stumbles into Patrick's bar of choice for the night. Maybe they both have something the other needs right now.

2023

Heaven help me, she's walking away [stevie/ruth, T, 7,247] by @lizzie-bennetdarcy

"Why would I need two rooms?" Does Ruth usually get herself two rooms? Is that something she should be doing, for thoroughness or something? "Because there are two of us?" Wait. What? Stevie has one more motel to hit before she can take a vacation, and this time Ruth is tagging along. The problem is, Stevie has fallen into old habits and booked the honeymoon suite.

I Can't Keep Quiet Any Longer [jake/mutt, M, 1,242] by @a-noble-dragon

Jake overhears something he shouldn’t, and stays to hear more. Who knew that brooding, reticent Mutt, could ever sound like this during sex?

i'll stick by your side, if you'll be right by mine [patrick & twyla, G, 4,130] by @aoubooming

Patrick is new in town and is immediately welcomed and befriended by Twyla. They bond over their crushes on the Rose siblings, baseball, and performing in Cabaret and become best friends.

Paradise [david/patrick, T, 100] by @legalgal421

David and Patrick celebrate a milestone anniversary in an exotic place

Proud Mary [ronnie & david, T, 4,717] by @wearpersistencewell

It's 1997, and Veronica "Ronnie" Lee is in a small town for business. What she doesn't expect is to stay - or for a fourteen-year-old rich kid to help steer her in the right direction.

riptide rush [david & alexis, T, 1,253] by @fakingsincerity

David’s sick, and Patrick is out of town. Fortunately, Alexis is visiting and able to help take care of him. Which David is really grateful for…eventually.

so kiss me (David x Patrick version) [david/patrick, M, 1,771] by @rmd-writes

A series of unconnected ficlets written in response to kiss prompts

Survivable [david & stevie, T, 1,447] by @tyfinn

What did Stevie do for those three days David was missing? It was during those three days Stevie realizes just what David does mean to her.

2024

Peacock (C'mon, baby, let me see what you hiding underneath) [david/patrick, T, 100] by @a-noble-dragon

David struts like a peacock into the club, drawing the attention of everyone, though his attentions are focused on one man alone - a man dressed in blue.

Ubi Caritas [david/patrick, M, 108,183] by @trickiwoo

College seniors David and Patrick are project partners whose mutual insecurities make for a bumpy transition from friends to lovers. Banter, flirting, flirty banter, sexy banter, "connections."

Stats:

No fanworks for 2017 or 2018 2019: 4 fanworks (3 fics, 1 vid)/5,529 words 2020: 15 fics/305,534 words 2021: 10 fics/23,966 words 2022: 1 fic/5,027 words 2023: 8 fics/21,907 words 2024: 2 fics/108,283 words Total: 40 fanworks (39 fics, 1 vid)/470,246 words

[the-gay-rat]

Riordan-verse Prophecies

Percy Jackson and the Olympians

You shall go west, and face the god who has turned, You shall find what was stolen, and see it safely returned, You shall be betrayed by one who calls you a friend, And you shall fail to save what matters most, in the end.

You shall sail the iron ship with warriors of bone, You shall find what you seek and make it your own, But despair for your life entombed within stone, And fail without friends, to fly home alone

  Five shall go west to the goddess in chains, One shall be lost in the land without rain, The bane of Olympus shows the trail, Campers and Hunters combined prevail, The Titan’s curse must one withstand, And one shall perish by parent’s hand. 

You shall delve in the darkness of the endless maze, The dead, the traitor, and the lost one raise. You shall rise or fall by the ghost king's hand, The child of Athena's final stand. Destroy with a hero's final breath, And lose a love to worse than death.

A half-blood of the eldest gods shall reach sixteen against all odds and see the world in endless sleep, The hero’s soul, cursed blade shall reap, a single choice will end his days, Olympus to preserve or raise.

The heroes of Olympus 

seven heroes shall answer the call to storm or fire the world must fall an oath to keep with final breath as foes bear arms to the doors of death

Child of lightning beware the earth the giants revenge the seven shall birth forge and dove shall break the cage and death unleashed through Heras rage 

 to the north beyond the gods lies the legions crown falling from the ice the son of Neptune shall drown

wisdoms daughter walks alone the mark of Athena burns through Rome twins snuff out the angels breath who holds the key to endless death the giants bane stands gold and pale won through the pain from a woven jail 

Magnus Chase and the Gods of Asgard 

Wrongly chosen, Wrongly slain, A hero Valhalla cannot contain. Nine days hence the sun must go east, Ere sword of summer unbinds the beast. 

The Trials of Apollo

Caves of blue. 

…Westward, burning.

Pages turning.

…Indiana.

Happiness approaches.

There was once a god named Apollo, Who plunged in a cave blue and hollow, Upon a three seater, the bronze fire-eater, Was forced death and madness to swallow 

The words that memory wrought are set to fire, Ere new moon rises o’er the devils mount, Till bodies fill the Tibet beyond count.

Yet southward must the sun now trace its course, Through the mazes dark to land of scorching death, to find the master of the swift white horse and wrest from the crossword speaker’s breath.

To westward must the lester go; Demeter’s daughter finds her ancient roots. The Cloven guide alone the way does he know, To walk the path in Thine own enemies boots

When three are known and Tiber reached alive, tis only then Apollo starts to jive 

Bronze upon gold

East meets west

Legions are redeemed 

Light the depths 

One against many

Never spirit defeat 

Ancient words spoken 

Shaking old foundations 

Destroy the tyrant 

Aid the winged 

Under golden hills

Great stallion’s foal 

Turn red tides 

Harken the trumpets

Enter strangers home 

Regain lost glory

Apollo faces death in Tarquin’s tomb unless the doorway to the soundless god is opened by (Bellona’s Daughter)

A wildcat near the spinning lights. The tomb of Tarquin with horses bright. 

To open doors two-fifty-four 

O son of Zeus the final challenge face, The tow’r of Nero two alone ascend, dislodge the beast that hast usurped thy place, The son of Hades, cavern runner’s friend, Must show the secret way unto the throne. On Nero’s own your lives now depend. A dare reveals the path that was unknown, And bears destruction; Lion, snake-entwined or else the princeps never be o’erthrown 

Apollos flesh and blood shall soon be mine, Alone he must descend into the dark, The sibyl never again to see his sign, Lest wrestle with me till se his final spark, The god dissolves, leaving not a mark 

Apollo must fall, but Apollo must rise again 

The Sun and the Star

Go forth and find the one who calls out your name, who suffers and despairs for refusing to remain; there leave some of equal value behind, or your body and soul no one will ever find.

(correct me if i got any wrong)

[radiofreesanjak]

[ECHO.EXE RUNNING]

- I- um. H-hello. I-

- ...

- Mine apologies. I am n-nervous, as things art tense at the moment and this is one of the two most i-illegal contacts I have ever made, and the topic itself doth frighten me.

- I am Ren Hurst, sister of Rosceline Hurst. I b-believe thou hast had previous contact with a friend; one Marceline, a maid and beloved of mine sister. Um...

- I do ramble. I... thou hast made several posts calling for the abdication of noble titles, and... I do beseech thee for advice on a related matter...

- I care very little for mine title of Scion. Twas always the case, truth be told. The only reason I have not abdicated already is for fear of mine m-mother. I am unaware of how much thou knowest of recent developments mine sister hath posted here, but we do plan a coup against our mother for her barbarous treatment of ignobles. Once she is... d-dealt with... I intend to abdicate posthaste.

- The problem I seek thine advice upon regardeth mine sister. Tis not that I believe she would refuse to do the same, but rather I don't know that it is wise. I know how that doth sound and I understand the evils of this system, but... The legal standing of mine sister's title as Heiress is the only thing which shall keep the other Minor Houses and the House of Remembrance from viewing our actions as a full ignoble revolt.

- Frankly, we haven't the resources nor the firepower to defend ourselves from all angles: pirates on our planet, every other Minor House backed by the Major to suppress a revolt, Harrison Armory at the door? So many have offered to help us, but a handful of lancers shan't be enough. We have too many enemies. What are we to do? Should we really give up such a potent tool, which shields us and our people, out of principle?

- These questions art not meant in an argumentative way; they are genuine inquiries. I know thou thinkest low of nobility, but I promise thee we seek only the safety and freedom of our people.

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OOC: Hi! Name's Kiwi! Wanted to introduce myself along with the ask! Sorry it's so damn long, i had a lot of information I was trying to compress. Anyway I hope you have a lovely night! :D

Oh, you mean that the vaunted liberal House of Remembrance might react badly to the wishes of its nobles peacefully abdicating to give power to the people? The liberals, who are so kind in how they trod upon our backs?

Ah, I jest and you seem anxious. Some in our audience seem to deny that such a problem could occur among liberals. Let me reassure you:

The strategy in fighting the House of Remembrance is to turn their ethics against them. They say they seek to respect the ignoble, just without reforming the system? You posit that the extreme politics of your mother has required concessions. You have spoken to the Republicans who live under you (they surely exist, especially if what i have heard is true) and decided that the most appropriate apology is a concession of power to them. This is an action you are taking to prevent an Ignoble uprising, for surely you have seen the seeds of us unkind Ungratefuls among your populace.

This is a strategy that worked for some sympathizers in the House of Dust. The noble house cedes their territory to the councils of the people they once ruled, and says they do so because it was the only peaceful option. It leaves those who would contest you in a bind: if they intervene in a peaceful transition of power they would risk conflict for real. This is a problem made worse for the liberal; do they not differentiate themselves from the federalists among them by their sympathy for the plight of the ignoble?

As for your fellow minor houses, who I hear lean less sympathetic to those on Arrudye, think about it like this: they could respond as they do, but their action in this regard risks remand from both the House of Remembrance and Harrison Armory smelling blood in the water. This action would surely rally any Ungrateful to your defense. Could they risk a prolonged conflict?

A course of action to think on. A different set of potential allies to reach out to, perhaps.

Let me know if you wish for me to find my comrades in your area.

OOC: Hi! No worries, everyone knows I'm no stranger to the text wall. You too!