#lower and higher realms of life

[nancywait]

What’s on a Wednesday

What’s on a Wednesday? A wedding. Wednesday and wedding derive from Odin, (Wōden in Old English) king of the Norse gods, which is why Wednesday is known as Odin’s Day. What’s a wedding? An “act or instance of joining in close association.” (Merriam-Webster) This joining includes “especially opposite or contrasting elements.” (Dictionary.com) According to English folklore, Wednesday is the best…

[unproduciblesmackdown]

payoff of being embedded in a unit of authoritarianism since birth is sure then being able to go like "wow this is just like dynamics & phenomena i experienced up close & personal, repeatedly, in many contexts & configurations in my first two decades of life" plus also beyond that in abuse culture world & the noncoincidence that even interactions beyond the confines of the home(tm) reinforced / did not contradict the hierarchy & concomitant abuse within....but then like hey yeah also the Larger Units of hierarchy & abuse / authoritarianism (ft. their logics & practices necessary for continuously & continually shoring up that hierarchy) can also make it like hey yeah the Two Parent abusive nuclear family more like the Two Party [the US is also a one party state but in typical american extravagance they have two] where right wingness is defined by the degree of directly embracing white supremacy & "left wing" is "anything else" hence like wow The Left is always infighting (everyone with any ideas besides "umm christofascist white ethnostate?" so like yeah there are many other ideas) vs The Right's admirable cohesion (simply re: the white supremacy idea which also necessarily embraces all other Out Group / Nonperson paradigms & practices b/c that's what all already has been necessary for shoring up the [when has the US been a nongenocidal non white supremacist non oligarchy])

like obviously individual experiences & contexts vary but like narrowing in on [the Family as immediate relations ideally cordoned off into nuclear households] ft. [Parental Authority the top priority of which is preserving that authority, ideally patriarchal, an abusive mother e.g.? hey, that ought to be the father] times it's like, think people tend to struggle re: having the "nicer" / "safer" parent who was also shitted on as well but also at the end of the day would always side with the "meaner" "more dangerous" parent, even in whatever terms most sympathetic to the abused parties, with the underlying logic that we're always just going to have to deal with them so some secret strategic mitigation is the best that can be done, perhaps the equivalent of being sent a ":(" after an Onslaught Of Expressed / Enforced Authority(tm) event....the tendency to see the best in any lack of actual intervention / protection on the assumption That Could Never Happen Anyway & forever At Least that the one parent isn't as bad as the other [the Not That Bad / Could've Been Worse infocation, like free bingo square in manifestations of minimization if not outright abuse denial] & all the sympathy for, you know, being human & doing their best(tm) &c which sure might all be true but the abused parties (oft children, more vulnerable than adults, by virtue of being children i.e. considered legal property of some specific adults & theoretical property of any adults in general (the paternal logic in any "protect [xyz]" like maintain one group's supposed ownership / control over [xyz] "for their sake" then? great) & also generally smaller & newer at being alive in this world) but who are liable to not extend that sympathy to themselves (or certainly not be extended that sympathy....when is "they're doing their best / they're only human / they mean well or whatever / they love you, they're family" successfully deployed the Thwart an abusive parent like it is to tell an abused child to not be too resentful of this situation, when is it actually deployed toward the abusive parent at all really. & again in the lack of boundary between the authoritarianism within many individual family households & that of the state they exist in (here re: the US) like that naturally one encounters the logic of abuse expressed just as "common knowledge" & the Assumptions of other people, e.g. the rejection of a parent having zero access to a child, the reinforcement of automatic apologia deployed for whatever a parent could possibly do, argued for "family", yet not deployed the same way to automatically defend anything thee child(tm) could do, thinking emoji lol....see: like the non boundary between [the Patriarchal home/family(tm)] & capitalism when uh oh capitalism the system of continuously maximizing exploitation Needs various forms of labor to be unpaid, uh oh another lack of boundary when white supremacy is used to also shore up the patriarchy that shores up the white supremacy, e.g. that even if in some "inferior" class it's treated as More Important that at least you're not that And black, the theoretical ideal/normal white man is a person while a white woman is a woman while a black woman is black, white women could have any legal property via chattel slavery which needed white women's participation to help enforce, the specter of sexual violence all coming from nonwhite & especially black men & it's up to the genteel white man to Protect Women (see prev, implicitly white or you'd have to specify otherwise)

anyway that is to get around to pointing to the Two Parent System wherein so shockingly the results are the same as the One Parent System re: abuse maintaining The Family (properly, i.e. unquestionable & certainly undeniable parental access to children, & "ideally" ofc again the patriarchal Father as ultimate authority w/ownership over the Mother, who in turn is theoretically honored for that motherhood (at least you own your children, insofar as it doesn't contradict w/what the father wants to do with his superior claim to ownership) & then finally all the obviously shittiness from being in that position in a patriarchy is in turn dumped on The Children who are ungrateful & owe the mother everything Because of what the broader society & immediate personal expressions of that abuse have done to her. see also ofc that two adults likely don't have the resources to raise a child in time or money or energy, maybe there's only one but also even an extended family's worth of adults aren't enough, is it enough when a child is sent to school for some other adults to be in charge most of the day, or even if someone is hired to look after them beyond that, all this ofc with the assumed premise that a child is always limited to the various Domains of The Adults In Charge, & from there i segue into how naturally being in gay baby jail unless & until adults are no longer recognized as Legally In Charge Of You (the grand like 5 minutes it's relatively been since the ideal timeline of a woman's life wasn't being legal property of her father until asap passed along to legal property of her husband. still considered ideal ofc but like with "maybe you can have a bank account" now & "maybe you can become 29 before you're in Old Maid danger" Maybe, i said, Maybe....anyway that obviously adults(tm) being divided up (atomised. spritz) into Households isn't even supposed to be enough to live on their own, re: necessitating Marriage, much less uh oh having kids who are stuck with their parents who are stuck with them, but then all the obvious actual problems & abuses inflicted on Adults to have to have their family households & exploited jobs are dumped on the children who Must appreciate & be loyal to the parents (i.e. never Deny Access) while yknow kids have Fake Problems they're whining about, the one Real Problem of having to pay a bill gets the payoff of leverage to tell your children to shut the fuck up or perhaps the more vulnerable spouse

hm didn't segue right into "so shoutout to like The Ratchet Effect diagrams lol, the "Two" Party System where its supposed left wing Blocks Movement To The Left, right wing Moves Everything To The Right" but even that is like, mm, conferring a passivity to what democrats do in the continual movement to the right (won an election? lost an election? the lesson either way is The Right Is Right; exact same logic as in "winning or losing" "the war on crime" like the collection & analysis of whatever statistics show the trend of some "crime" is increasing in frequency or magnitude? show that it's decreasing? the lesson either way is Cops Need More Power) like the institutional effort of democrats to push a candidate nobody wants through primaries (did we even do that this time around. oh great that the assumed candidate even graciously agreed to not force themself as The Candidate, & now like 5 min left with the Next In Line candidate dumped on everyone now with the lesson for the left(tm) to shut up already lol) & then it's up to Grassroots Voters. it's up to Unity & well we all Need to listen to the white supremacists, points were made, in the "elections" with voting as limited as possible & with the electoral college & supreme court as Safeguards against democracy & here's the senate, eternally thus, & again the conclusions will always manage to be moving To The Right, paraphrasing from twitter like democrats are about to be or already at the point of "in the name of unity we will no longer be running against republicans; it's too divisive :(" which yknow is already The Statements of all of yesterday from various like "i'm the republican official white supremacy agree-er now" after also the entire campaign of "no, I'm the fascist" where like wow shocking that the appeal to the fascists didn't win a) the fascists who will ofc want the even more overt fascism, why wouldn't they or b) the people who want antifascism actually, and do not want fascism; who could have foreseen? & it's always the fault of being Too Antifascist for the actions of the fascists or the Diplomatic Comprimises the other party makes with the fascists &/or their Failure to thwart them....the Nicer, Safer party in power is surely doing their best & at least they're not the Meaner, More Dangerous one but at the end of the day they'll always side with that party over america(tm) & those bearing the brunt of the actions of State Power can be told to keep their chin up or else to stop acting out b/c how do you expect that state power to respond, cmon, you bring it upon yourself, & you Have to work with them & understand all their feelings & your role in resolving those feelings by being lesser inferior property, you do Have to understand, b/c in the end this is All About Family, surely Good & Necessary, whoops i mean in the end this is All About America

anyway yeah i'm like damn my "nicer" (also shitty) father who was also the even more sexist & racist (& certainly no Less ableist, queerphobic) parent was basically the democratic party of the Two Parent System of Family Government lol. b/c we Need to perpetuate this Family, no other logics much less actions are acceptable....& people struggling with the Parent / Adults in their life like that who were the "safe" & "protective" ones who markedly failed to protect & minimized the harm afterwards but also in general, never to confront the reality of the situation, or do damage control like "aw some points were made at all :( ah i see you have Feelings about this :( hmm yes the Parental Power is gonna have to make some changes" & then as soon as possible (assuming reeling in the party who was deviating too much) these changes(tm) are already compromised or diminished if done at all, & then oops things incrementally might be right back to how they always were, no guarantees it won't be Worse b/c the Power is even more insecure / aware of weaknesses, & the only way this is thwarted is if the Wayward Parties can actually leverage new boundaries / less vulnerability, not b/c the supposedly sympathetic parties, who never came through where it counts & likely would also become overt antagonizers / wielders of whatever power within the Family hierarchy / turn on the more vulnerable parties to Get Them In Line, actually came through. movement Away (more disruptive to the maintenance of The Family, The State) is blocked, incrementally only ever moving everything back, & then Further....& despite this being what the power structures are, & do, the Disruptive parties liable to be scapegoated lol, can't believe the scapegoat child is ruining everything for everyone, this Family would totally improve & start being everything it could be otherwise & we ignore who actually has the power & is actually enforcing the hierarchy harming everyone to point to that scapegoat; can't believe thee left is destroying america (republican voice) can't believe the left is destroying america (democrat voice) So You See? The Undeniable Consensus. just like how i believe it was my fault my family unit was Like That & i had those experiences, according to the vast majority of Input from that family & even others who, knowing nothing, would say how Lucky i was to be relatively close to home, or just of course that oh well parents love their children & mean well & try their best. just like how i believe that being treated like i've been generally as a neurononconforming person, i.e. hated & the interpersonal abuse & bullying & ostracization & [attention possibilities: ignored, responded to but negatively, interacted with to get something from] & actually rewarding interactions or just actions being liable to get Deluxe authority responses as disruptive(tm) & ofc disobedient(tm) like hell fuckin yeah lol. just as i don't think that other people who have similar experiences or ones i don't have, i.e. assessed race being automatically seen as wrong / inferior, being isolated & undermined from all around? well gotta be their fault then, cmon lol....Abuse is actually normative, not extraordinary, in every Arena of interactions, & so are the logics / apologia / assumptions

anyway lol re: like yeah people struggling with the like betrayal of the "nooo i'm on your side, i sympathize, i'm the one who's nicer & you Need so that things aren't even worse" party, not even One Big Novel betrayal, but rather that that's what's Been done the whole time & doesn't stop. that supposedly if you have Any sympathy for that party you have to be like aw :( keep doing your thing (necessarily reining everyone in) or if you have Any sympathy for the people who also want things to improve but blame & take it out on the more disruptive parties (more disruptive to an abusive family e.g., btw. & not like i see Cohesion as necessarily some Good rather than neutral? when i'm autistic / my existence is supposedly antithetical to this? or when i'm able to look at a zillion hypothetical or actual situations & recognize how "cohesion" isn't the best goal / a destructive one / a vague concept anyways like cohesion Between Whom? on what basis? recognized & pursued how? why? up next: same as vague shit like "family" or "community" &c) then it's like yep gotta be Responsible for their feelings too if you're at all sympathetic & capitulate, The Only Possible Action, vs the idea of those in power actually making things shit stopping, much less being stopped / having to stop in the various ways that can happen....one way being "oh no, adult children who choose to be no-contact with parents" which is seen as A Tragedy, & sign of a Deteriorating Society, take me back. ah jeez oh no, look at the divorce raaates....Oh No, twentysomething women aren't pursuing marriage enoughhhh....again the undetectably identical echo when people peak vaguely talk about "conflicts" that thwart "community" or whatever, ugh nobody will date anymore, commit anymore, be friends anymore, hang out as coworkers anymore, talk to me if i want to talk to them anymore, &ccccc....

the real tl;dr is like wait ""two party"" (one party) US electoral system, just like ""two parent"" maintenance of thee family lol. ratchet effect raise your hand if you've only ever experienced Movement Away from the abusive family blocked, forever incrementally ratcheted back in to the desires & pursuits of those most in power / top of the hierarchy / thus of course most invested in the abuse, that's what the power & hierarchy is made of, sustained by, perpetuates....sorry doing our best :( sorry that's just all that's realistic, no other choice Really. cmon. kind of Your Fault if you don't agree to that & whoops now Everything is the fault of whoever doesn't agree & cooperate enough :( now look what you've done & brought upon yourself :( & we'll just forget the eruption of violence suppression happened & will happen again & be the overhanging threat all in the meantime

[ckret2]

At some point, the Axolotl must've witnessed the aftermath of the Euclidean Massacre.

As you can see, Bill is very happy and definitely not at all traumatized and doing great and look at all these followers he's found who are definitely alive.

Here, have a fic about the Axolotl, the birth of the Nightmare Realm, and Bill trying so so hard to convince himself that he's the hero.

####

To the mortals he swam past, with their different calendars and their different ways of perceiving time, the great Axolotl's migration through space and between dimensions was an event of great note: his passing marked eclipses, tsunamis, festivals, omens, meteor showers; his migration was studied by astronomers and his position was marked in astrological birth charts.

To the Axolotl, he was on his daily commute home. He could take an interdimensional portal, but swimming was better for the environment and he could use the exercise.

He passed by the same two dimensional wall every day. It was covered with many little worlds, and so many of them populated with little mortals, and he'd never paid any particular attention to the wall—until yesterday. A bold little triangle had shouted at him as he passed. It had been an amusing conversation—first contact was always fun—but he'd been busy and couldn't talk more than a moment, just long enough for the Axolotl to be charmed that a lower-dimensional creature had yelled at him and for the triangle to be shocked that a higher-dimensional creature had answered. The triangle had told him that, to his two-dimensional people, these shadows on the wall, the Axolotl was an eclipse: they marked the time by the shadow he cast on their flat world during his commute.

He hadn't even learned the triangle's real name. The triangle had refused to tell him, instead introducing himself as the "Magister Mentium." Teacher of minds? Maybe it was a job title.

Between the nightmare of a case the Axolotl was currently handling and the fact that he'd had to stay late working, he'd nearly forgotten about yesterday's fascinating little meeting until he was leaving on his nightly commute. He didn't know how long the tiny shapes' life cycles were; he hoped the little triangle was still alive today. If not, maybe he'd left behind descendants.

But when he came up to the wall, it was gone.

The vacuum reeked of burning hydrogen.

The Axolotl stopped, puzzled. The wall wasn't empty, wasn't damaged, wasn't going through heat death—the entire thing was missing. No rubble. Surely it hadn't been demolished for some new construction? It had been in good condition. It was a fairly new plane of reality, likely under fifty billion years old. And it had admittedly been a few eons since the Axolotl had studied dimension use & zoning law, but last he checked it was unlawful to demolish a populated dimension without transplanting the growths first—which took much longer than a day. So what could possibly have done this? And what he saw behind the wall...

Something was very wrong. He started moving again, faster, looking for someone who could tell him what was happening. He kept the ragged rip in reality left by the missing wall in his peripheral vision. Stars and stardust slowly fell in, sucked through the tear. The wall must have come down by accident.

Nobody would have knowingly left behind such a large hole to Dimension Zero.

Assuming he was looking at Dimension Zero; he wasn't sure he was. Beneath all other dimensions was supposed to be a void, an empty in-between space. The zeroth "dimension" was simply reality's center point, the not-dimension between all dimensions; it wasn't a place. But with the two dimensional wall gone, he didn't see reality bending in toward a point like he should. He saw a roiling, nauseating mass of blinding colors, thrashing around each other like a frightened pile of injured worms.

Far in the distance, a full reality away, he saw a faint line of blue light.

It was several minutes before he began to run into other people. He passed a crew of cosmic firefighters and their ships, spread out over a span of space wider than an asteroid belt. The fact that they didn't appear to currently be fighting any fires was more disconcerting than a full blaze would have been. An eerie tension hung thick over the scene like invisible smoke. As the Axolotl swam by a couple of firefighters, he overheard them saying, "... orders of magnitude higher than anything we've been trained to handle. An entire reality catching fire is one thing, but the concept of realitycatching fire...?"

"And the speed it's moving..."

"Excuse me," the Axolotl said, trying to keep the edge of fear out of his voice. (Why was he so afraid? He was barely acquaintances with one resident on the wall.) "Can you tell me what happened to the wall? It was just here yesterday."

Rather than explain, one of them pointed in the direction he'd been going. "Sorry, we don't know any more than you do. Look for the storm. You can't miss it."

The other asked, "Are you one of the guys with the apoc cops?"

His fear leaped higher. The "apoc cops" were members of the Apocalyptic Threat Task Force. "No. Sorry, I have to go." He swam onward toward the blue line of light.

The stench of burning hydrogen grew stronger. He smelled something else acrid underneath.

####

To his slight relief, the "storm" wasn't the disaster that had brought down this wall. Rather, it was a person: a lightly raining storm cloud with a gray rain-soaked fedora perched on top, hovering in space.

It was talking to a hapless-looking furred serpent twice the Axolotl's length with four mismatched limbs: she clutched a can of spray paint in her claws, and was so nervous he could hear the marble in the can rattling. A disembodied sunbeam pierced the eye of the storm cloud to shine in the serpent's face as she spoke, and a tornado swirled beneath its cloud, carrying all its personal effects—including a tumbling badge from the Apocalyptic Threat Task Force, its logo of a mushroom cloud struck out with the "no" symbol still visible through a thin glaze of sleet. A chill ran through the Axolotl at the sight of that badge.

The cloud wasn't the only one with the apoc cops on the scene. There were several other investigators nearby, taking readings where the wall used to be. The Axolotl didn't like just how many were buzzing around. They seemed far too busy for far too empty a space, and they steered far too clear of the thrashing, multicolored miasma covering the emptiness that should contain Dimension Zero.

There were several stars in the area that the investigators had to work around. Between the crowds and the missing wall, it took the Axolotl a moment to realize where they were: this was the spot he'd met the triangle yesterday. He was sure of it. He recognized the star right next to the missing wall, the one the triangle had told him he eclipsed during his commute. He'd passed it millions of times.

Why had the apoc cops set up here?

The star was slowly falling toward the roiling miasma where Dimension Zero should have been. He nudged it back into place as he passed.

As the Axolotl approached the duo, the serpent was saying, "I told you, I don't know how it caught fire! I was just passing by..." The storm cloud's sunbeam dropped from her face to point skeptically at her spray paint. She hid it behind her back and quickly went on, "I was just passing by, minding my own business and not doing anything illegal, and suddenly the whole wall went up in flames!"

The cloud said, "The whole wall? Simultaneously?"

"The whole thing! I mean... it kind of rolled across the dimension, but—it took less than ten seconds to cover everything I saw!"

"Which direction did the fire travel?"

While the serpent tried to remember, the Axolotl swam up to the storm cloud. "Excuse me, the firefighters said you're in charge of the investigation?"

"Currently," the cloud said, in a tone that suggested it very much wished it wasn't. It looked over the Axolotl, then turned back to the serpent—she flinched when its sunbeam hit her face again—and it asked gruffly, "Is this your lawyer?"

The serpent looked hopeful. "Are you my lawyer?"

"No, I'm not," the Axolotl said, perturbed. Potential defendants aside, nobody ever insinuated he was somebody's lawyer and meant it in a nice way—and he was on the receiving end of such accusations more and more often lately. His reputation was beginning to precede him. "We've never met. I'm trying to find out what happened to this wall. I know a—friend in there. You said something about a fire?"

An active ATTF investigation was in no way the Axolotl's business. But people had a tendency to cooperate with professionals, whether or not their profession had anything to do with the situation at hand. The ATTF agent turned to the Axolotl and said, "You had a friend in there. The wall that used to be here, Dimension 2 Delta, has been completely incinerated."

The Axolotl stared at the cloud, trying to process that. But the whole wall had been there yesterday. Billions of galaxies, each with trillions of stars, each capable of supporting trillions of species—never mind lives. "You can't mean completely. Surely there are some survivors?"

"Not a single one," the cloud said. "Not even gods and ghosts made it out."

"How?"

"That's what we're trying to figure out," the storm said. "Right now, the only witness we've found was the person who called in the emergency." A branch of lightning pointed toward the serpent. "And she doesn't know a damn thing." The serpent nodded in enthusiastic agreement.

"But that's... How does an entire dimension disappear with only one witness?"

"Very quickly," the storm said. "The apocalypse Origin & Cause investigation can't make heads or tails of the scene—" a gust of wind swept demonstratively toward the other apoc cops taking readings near the missing wall, "but far as we can tell, the damn thing spontaneously combusted—somewhere near here."

The Axolotl stared helplessly between the serpent and the storm. "Dimensions aren't supposed to spontaneously combust," he said, very reasonably and very unnecessarily.

"Tell 2Δ that," the storm said. "Only time a dimension moves that fast is during a Big Bang explosion or a Big Crunch implosion—and 2Δ wasn't undergoing a Big Crunch. No natural one, anyway. In all my eons with ATTF, I've never seen anything like it."

The Axolotl had been around enough eons himself to know that, after a certain point, novelty became very, very scary—because things working like they should shouldn't do anything you'd never seen before. He worriedly searched the roiling chaos exposed by Dimension 2 Delta's collapse for any sign of what had happened.

The chaos simply thrashed. It moved like it was in pain.

"Did that..." the Axolotl gestured vaguely toward the chaotic foam, "have anything to do with the wall's combustion?"

The serpent shrugged. "I didn't see it until after the fire went by."

The storm grunted uncertainly, a low, thunderous grumble. "Heck if we know. It's connected, no doubt about that—but we haven't even figured out what it is yet. All we know is, it shouldn't have been behind the wall."

The Axolotl stared into the roiling colors, looking for anything visible through the thrashing kaleidoscopic colors.  "If you don't know what it is yet—then, how do you know there aren't survivors in there?" The Axolotl couldn't stop seeing that poor, frightened, awed triangle he'd met yesterday. All the people who'd once been in Dimension 2 Delta mattered—of course they did, those billions of trillions of trillions of billions of lives; he wanted any of them to survive—but that triangle was the one he knew, the one he saw in his mind's eye now. The whole dimension was contained inside that triangle. He had to hope. "I'm going to check."

"What—? You're crazy! Don't you know falling into Dimension Zero will destroy you?!"

"I know falling into Dimension Zero destroys you; I don't know what falling into that thing will do." He squared up with the chaos and steeled his nerves. "Besides, I can regenerate. I'm an axolotl."

"But—!"

"Sorry, there isn't time for more questions." He swam into the maelstrom.

####

Dimension Zero was supposed to be a singularity. Like a black hole, but even smaller—a point so dense it broke physics. If you fell in you'd be crushed into that point by the weight of all realities, a point so small it had no volume.

But whatever was behind where the wall had been, it was certainly no point.

As soon as he crossed the threshold, he was barraged with a psychic hurricane. Reality frothed and foamed like a flood spilling from a burst dam. Distant baby stars were born and popped like bubbles, and old stars fell in and were gloriously reignited. His every sense was bombarded with infinite sensations—every color and image in this dimension all at once; every song that had ever been played playing in the same instant and the instant extended indefinitely; strobe lights that were both flashing on and flashing off at the exact same moment. Beneath the music was a constant hiss like the background radiation of reality, the static echo of a universe's birth, but much too loud; he could swear it sounded like gibbering, babbling voices, their desperate messages unintelligible. He smelled every scent, including the lingering smell of burning hydrogen that he'd noticed outside; but above and beyond all that, he smelled the stench of burning life.

He knew now, this was Dimension Zero: it was as if all of spacetime had been crushed into a singularity, but then the singularity was bloated up to the size of an entire universe. Dimension Zero was never supposed to be this bloated.

And the most terrifying part: there were people in this bizarre ruin of a dimension. Millions of them. (Just as horrifying: there were only millions of them.) He was sure he must have been hallucinating—here, dreams and reality swirled around each other like a bottle of water and oil shaken until they were forced to mix—but the longer he looked, the more sure he was that the people were a part of reality. They were, perhaps, the most real thing in the entire dimension.

They were all dancing.

They were all dead.

"Heeey, look who's here!" Suddenly, in front of the Axolotl, there he was—as if he'd always been in front of the Axolotl, as if he were always everywhere at once. The ghost of the little triangle he'd seen yesterday, neon incorporeal. "Happy New Year, everybody!" He laughed. "Get it? That—that's a joke, time doesn't pass in the dream realm, so..." The triangle waved off the Axolotl. "Oh, you wouldn't get it. Screw you. Anyway, introductions! I should do that." 

The triangle was extremely inebriated. He was blinking blearily, floating crookedly, moving in odd uncoordinated jerks, his pupil expanding and contracting with no correlation to the light it was taking in. He seemed to flicker across multiple timelines that had been collapsed into one, like a drunk that couldn't walk a straight line: appearing here then there, then multiple places at once, then everywhere; and then became everywhere, and then collapsed again to a single triangular point. The Axolotl had the worrying impression that the triangle hadn't been sober for a long time.

"So! These are my people!" He gestured with a flourish to the dancing corpse puppets. The strobe lights—which, the Axolotl only now realized, didn't actually have a source, but were rather disembodied rays of light emanating from nothing—turned to highlight them from every angle. It was like a cloud of glitter, all these tiny, flat, jewel-tone flecks, emerald and citrine and ruby and sapphire, triangles and squares and pentagons and hexagons. Each with two spindly arms; some with legs and some without; a single dull eye or a slack mouth; some of them cracked and chipped like broken glass, some of them crushed and melted together into multi-corpsed horrors, some of them fraying and peeling apart around the edges like fabric; so much silvery blood dripping and floating around them. Such beautiful, colorful dancing gore. "All my followers and friends! They love me! They couldn't see you last time you flew by, but thanks to me, they sure can now! Say hellooo!"

It took the Axolotl a moment to realize that the triangle's eye was boring into him and the instruction was for him. "Hello," he said weakly. 

"Very nice." The triangle turned without turning to the millions lost inside Dimension Zero, reality shifting around him to put all of the dimension's prisoners in front of his eye. The Axolotl reeled from existential vertigo. "Now check this out!" The triangle gestured at the Axolotl for his people's benefit. "Behold! Your Magister Mentium presents to you: the eclipse! In the horrifying pink flesh! Quite a sight, huh?"

Many of the dancers turned toward him. Some aimed their dull, dead eyes in his direction. He shivered under their chill stares.

Heedless of the Axolotl's horror, the triangle elbowed him. "I didn't peg you for a party crasher, pinky!" (The triangle's touch was so cold.) "But hey, the more the merrier. Welcome to the dream realm, have a drink!"

A 2D cup manifested in front of the Axolotl that, based on its smooth, featureless yellow surface and its glow, appeared to be made from the triangle's own ghostly flesh. It seemed to be filled with watered-down raw existence. He didn't touch the cup. "What's the dream realm?" He couldn't stop staring at the dancers macabre.

"This is!" The triangle stretched out his arms—and stretched them, and stretched them, seeming to embrace all of reality at once. The Axolotl got the terrifying impression he was within the embrace too. "The realm of dreams! My realm! Paradise of color and light! Realm of spirits and muses!"

"It looks more like a nightmare."

"Do I come to your house and insult your wallpaper? Buzz off."

When the triangle dismissively floated away from him, the Axolotl again got the dizzying sensation that he was the one moving. The truth finally dawned on him:

The triangle, somehow, was literally the center of this universe. Point 0,0,0 on the cartesian plane of reality. Whenever he moved, Dimension Zero moved with him. When he backed away from the Axolotl, Dimension Zero backed with him, rushing past while the Axolotl held still.

And not once during their conversation did any of the millions of dead shapes stop dancing. 

"What are you doing?" the Axolotl asked, voice hushed.

"Partying," the triangle said. "We're having a party."

The Axolotl couldn't tear his eyes from the choreomaniacs' forced revelry. "How long have you been partying?"

"Uhh... pfff... I dunno, hard to keep track. A few months?" The triangle turned toward his tortured people. "Hey! How long have we been partying?"

One of the bodies mixed in amongst the dead, boogying deliriously, faintly cried back, "Time has no meaning and eternity has collapsed into a single unending moment of bliss!" (The Axolotl shuddered at the grotesque ventriloquism act.)

"Oh, yeah, right, forgot I decreed that. Thanks, pal!"

"You're welcome, oh wise and glorious Magister Mentium!"

The triangle turned back to the Axolotl. "An eternity."

The Axolotl tore his horrified eyes away from the dancers. "What about all the others?"

The triangle paused. "I don't know who you're talking about." The background radiation hissed in agitation.

The Axolotl very much suspected he did. "Your other people."

"There aren't any others," the triangle said defensively.

"There were! All of the other shapes around your world! All of the lives on other worlds! Where are all those people?!" He hoped that they might have gotten evacuated to a neighboring wall, or that they'd been concealed somehow, or even that they'd been collapsed together into the shapes he saw before him and could still be separated—

"It's fine," the triangle said stiffly. "Nothing important was lost."

"Nothing important?" the Axolotl repeated, shocked. "This was an entire dimension—!"

"A wall," the triangle said.

"A wall with lives on it—"

"Shadows."

"And do shadows not deserve to live?!"

The triangle flinched at the question as his good cheer crumbled. He didn't answer, but he gave the Axolotl a heavy, hard, emotionless look—a wretched, empty look—and the Axolotl knew he knew they did deserve to live.

"They don't matter," the triangle lied. "Nothing important was lost. Only the true believers and the worthy remain."

"Your dimension had billions of trillions of stars alone. All the people surrounding them—"

"I didn't see any stars!" He said it so vehemently—as though, if he didn't see them, they must not have existed. As though he refused to acknowledge their existence. "I told everyone about the third dimension, I told them we were going, they had their chance to join me!" His voice was shaking. As he spoke he grew larger, until he was as large as the Axolotl—or perhaps the universe had contracted around him. "And if they refused to join the liberation, then they are what we liberated ourselves from!" Distant bolts of lights flashed through Dimension Zero, responding to the triangle's outrage; the nearest stars blazed brighter for him. His dead people screamed in terror. They didn't stop dancing.

"You... tried to leave your dimension before the fire reached them?" Had he tried too late?

The triangle flinched again; his appearance flickered, like a TV that for a moment had picked up a pirate station broadcasting on the same frequency. The whispers hissing beneath the music grew more excited again, but the Axolotl still couldn't make out what they said beneath the party music.

The triangle said, "The... the fire came second."

"What came first?"

But he didn't answer. "Yeah, I brought them here." He spread his arms again, gesturing at the other shapes. "They followed me, and I freed them from our flat, restrictive dimension. They're all fine. And they all love me for saving them."

"Saving them?" he echoed. He wanted to laugh in disbelief, but it felt too much like laughing at a stranger's funeral. Laughing at an open mass grave. "But—everyone here is already dead. Even you." The triangle should be in an afterlife. Whatever afterlives his dimension once had, they were gone now. The Axolotl would have to help the triangle find one in another dimension—the paperwork alone would take time he didn't have to spare; he'd probably have to split off a timeline or two to squeeze it in...

The triangle snapped, "Whoa, hey, hey! Watch who you call dead, buddy! Look at me!" He stretched out his limbs, glowing dazzlingly bright. Brighter than a star. Even the Axolotl had to turn away from the blinding light. "I transcended my body! I'm made of pure energy! This is the most alive I've ever been!" A being of pure energy that had lost its physical form was the very definition of a ghost; but the Axolotl didn't have a chance to argue before the triangle went on, "And does anyone here look dead? Everyone's dancing! We're all having a great time, aren't we?" A few corpses groaned and gurgled in response.

If the triangle wanted to be a wandering ghost, fine. That was his prerogative. But he had no right to force the remains of his followers to deny their death with him. "Look—look at your people," the Axolotl commanded. "You're making them dance! You must know what state they're in!"

Without actually moving, the triangle had somehow become the space in between the Axolotl and his choreomaniacs, forming a sharp shield in between them. "You don't know what you're talking about. They're fine. They're immortal!"

The Axolotl gestured furiously past the triangle. "LOOK AT THEM!"

The triangle's gaze flickered toward them for a split second. The Axolotl saw guilt flashing in his eye; but then he squeezed his eye shut. "No, you look at them. Maybe it took me a little bit to get it right, but they're all great now."

To get it right? The Axolotl peered around the triangle at the shapes again, and only now saw that he was right.

Not all of them were dead.

Some were trapped in ecstatic trances; some were numb with terror; some were already long dead, and yet the corpses weren't being puppeted like he'd assumed—they danced under their own power. There were amalgams of a dozen, a hundred bodies fused together into shambling, gyrating horrors—but there was still life in their horrified eyes and their limbs twitched independently. The ones that were bleeding just kept bleeding and bleeding and bleeding, unending, blood never clotting nor running dry. The corpses and the comatose and the ailing and the bleeding dancing with the living that craved death.

The triangle was responsible for their condition?

He glided between the corpses, sliding his arms around a few of them. They kept dancing.  "I didn't quite get to a few of them in time, so I took the empty space where their souls used to be and filled them with an insatiable hunger to party," he said. "And look, they're good as new! Probably better than they were before, even!"

"These bodies should be laid to rest," the Axolotl said heatedly, "and the rest of you should be dead."

The triangle went still.

The Axolotl remembered, a second too late, that that was a perfectly normal thing to say to deceased clients and other gods in his line of work, but the kind of thing that scared the living daylights out of mortals.

"So that's a threat." His arms slid off the shapes; his fingers were stained with silvery blood that shimmered like static noise.

"No! No. But the condition that you're all in..."

"You'd better check yourself, frills," the triangle snapped. "You crash our party, in our eternal paradise, and start threatening us! Who the hell do you think you are, telling us we should be dead?!"

The Axolotl paused uneasily. "A fully licensed psychopomp...?"

"Well you'd better keep your psycho, pompous paws off my people!" The triangle blazed bright red, literally incandescent with rage. Some of his "people" slowly stopped dancing and turned their hollow eyes toward the Axolotl.

And the Axolotl couldn't say why, but he was suddenly sure he was in very grave danger.

He backed up from the triangle, moving in the direction that the edge of Dimension Zero should have been, although he was no longer sure whether it was still behind him. "I... think I should leave."

"I think you'd better."

He turned and fled. He couldn't explain his panic, but he felt in his bones like something was chasing him. He had to spend longer than he wanted searching for the edge of this bizarre reality—the triangle had turned and twisted and moved the borders so many times that he'd completely lost his bearings—spied the nearest exit, and darted for it between two unfinished planes of reality.

He thought he felt flames at his back.

The triangle's voice followed him out: "Next time, poop on somebody else's party!"

He tumbled through the membrane between the overbloated Dimension Zero and the higher dimensions with the relief of a suffocating fish escaping its net to plummet back into the water. He had to take a moment to reorient himself to his surroundings—time passing so that each moment took its turn and ended when it was over, space that felt like space rather than all distances collapsed in on themselves—and looked back at Dimension Zero.

The longer he stared into the kaleidoscopic miasma, the more sure he was that, no matter where he looked, right at the center of his field of view, he could always see a shining yellow fleck of triangular glitter.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I spoke out of emotion. I am glad that you—" well, "survived" wasn't the right word, "—still exist. And it was heroic of you to save as many people as you did. I shouldn't have said they shouldn't be alive; just..."

He felt like he could still see the shapes dancing in the corners of his eyes.

"... Just not alive like that."

####

Who was the triangle?

At their first meeting yesterday, it had been clear to the Axolotl that the triangle could see and perceive things off his wall while the rest of his people could not; he'd identified himself as "Magister Mentium" rather than by name; and he'd been surrounded by shapes, all turned toward him, listening: so perhaps he was a leader of some kind? He must have seen whatever destroyed their dimension coming and been able to use his position to evacuate a few people. The true believers and the worthy, he'd said—maybe his... congregation? Maybe he was a religious leader? At any rate, it was a miracle he'd saved as many people as he had with what must have been very short notice.

But... their forced dance... the bodies fused together... the living-who-should-be-dead bleeding and bleeding and bleeding without end...

The Axolotl didn't want to believe the triangle had any ill will. He reminded himself that he didn't know anything about his people or their culture. These shapes had been through something unimaginably traumatic. They'd watched an entire reality die; many of them were stuck in the process of dying in a place where they couldn't complete it. Any mortal would be insane with grief. Perhaps their magister was just leading them in some sort of cathartic dancing mania; perhaps this was how the shapes processed their grief. He hoped that was what it was. He hadn't gotten a chance to speak to the others—he didn't know how many could speak—but he had seen, for just a moment, how survivor's guilt ate at the triangle.

The storm cloud with the Apocalyptic Threat Task Force had said that every single living being from Dimension 2 Delta had been killed. Even the gods and the ghosts. So how had the triangle and his people survived?

And what were they doing here, in the singular heart of all reality?

And what had happened to their world?

####

(Hello, thanks for reading!! If you were lured in by the colorful art I laid out as bait and this is your first time here, welcome!! This is part 1 of a 5-or-6 part fic about the Axolotl in the immediate aftermath of the Euclidean Massacre. I'll be posting one chapter a week, Fridays 5pm CST, so stick around if you wanna read more and learn the exciting answers to exciting questions like "Bill where in the good goddamn did you find a bunch of half-dead shapes??"

It's ALSO chapter 61 of an ongoing post-canon post-TBOB very-reluctantly-human Bill fic. So if you wanna read more of me writing Bill, check it out here. If you're not sold on the idea of a human Bill fic, I've also got a one-shot about normal triangle Bill escaping the Theraprism if you wanna read that.

If this is NOT your first time here and you already knew all of the above: hey y'all remember when we had to skip over chapter 61 because it would've been posted like four days after TBOB came out and it needed MAJOR revisions? Well, here it is!! And also it's currently like six times longer than it was originally. We're gonna be hanging out with the Ax for like a month and a half, buckle up. 

Let me know what y'all think so far!!)

[torawro]

I’D DIE FOR YOU (AND I HAVE). ( s.a. )

sousuke aizen & black!fem!reader.

cw ━━ ! minors, blank and ageless blogs DO NOT INTERACT. reader is portrayed as a black woman but you do not have to imagine her that way. using this map of the seireitei as a reference (i searched high and low for a consistent accurate one but it was hard). the first half is set pre-ryoka invasion / pre-soul society arc. the second half is aizen-centric (from his pov told from the 3rd person) and set post-tybw arc, years after he was sealed away in mugen, also including mention of events from vol. 1 of can't fear your own world (a light novel that's post-tybw & can be considered canonical); so all this being said: SPOILERS i guess???? of course you're welcome to read if you don't care about spoilers! somewhat based on 'die for you' by the weeknd & even more loosely based on 'dark red' by steve lacy. contains themes of heavy-ish angst, existential crises (?) & inner emotional turmoil within reader + aizen (separately). descriptions of character death, blood and violence. descriptions of manipulation/mind games. aizen is an unkind man. proofread (i did my best).

word count ━━ 11k

notes ━━ ! the way this fic was supposed to finished a month ago...but life once more gets in my way. and the way that it's this long....i anticipated the max being 10k but i greatly underestimated how long it would take to flesh out my idea. anywho i'm somewhat reentering my bleach era again. i’m not sure what it is but character analyses in the form of fanfiction is my jam rn like i really enjoyed writing this (i got tired of the length by like... 7k words lmao) but i like how this turned out. i've watched & read quite a bit of content that provide explanations as to why aizen is the way he is so i wanted to try my own portrayal of that in the context of canonical events. how i characterized him here is partially inspired by a fic i read about him last year so shout out to them for their support :D i hope i've depicted and humanized aizen well ♡. reblogs + commentary are heavily appreciated!!!!!

THE PAD OF YOUR THUMB SLOWLY glided against your bottom lip, the lingering aftertaste of jasmine tea still on its surface and on your breath. The absentminded motion of your thumb caressing your mouth, as if in deep contemplation, continued as you stared at the clock hanging on the wall above you.

It was past eleven, and the midnight hour only continued to draw near as time sustained its temporal march. And there you sat at your desk, floating in the limbo of your mind that was filled with hesitancy and admittedly, budding anticipation.

Your gaze lowered to the now empty porcelain cup, nothing remaining of its contents except the shriveled remnants of herbs and a few wayward drops of the brew.

Your senior comrade, captain Sōsuke Aizen, was correct in his prediction that you'd take a liking to its floral and delicate taste when he gifted you a jar full of the jasmine tea leaves as well as other ingredients.

The captain of Squad 5 seemed to be correct about a lot of things.

His intelligence and foresight, along with his kind and politely witty disposition, were qualities that you found somewhat charming, and gradually drew you closer to him.

Being the current third seat of the 9th company, your barracks and those of squad 5's were relatively close to each other's, so often you'd catch glimpses of and run into Captain Aizen on a pretty normal basis. Over the years, the conversations that bounced between the two of you expanded past the realm of formalities between a higher and lower ranking officer, and instead ranged in territories from literature, to art, to food & drink, and even to the politics of the government for which they were soldiers for.

Sometimes, you found it hard to believe that you managed to befriend a man like him. A man who seems to have mastered the balance between being a gentle soul, helpful to others, but also possessed enough refined power and skills to be named a captain within the Gotei 13.

Especially a man who wasn’t even of your own squad.

Despite the increasingly friendly relations and generally pleasant conversation, there were few moments where Aizen's words didn't feel quite. . . . real━ he didn't feel real. He spoke eloquently, often relying on figurative language to further illustrate his point and to breathe meaning into seemingly plain and meaningless words. But at times those words, his tone felt stained; stained with some substance or color you couldn't quite place. An enigmatic façade was painted over his speech, and it took too much mental capacity to try and find your own meaning in it.

So you'd often brush it off. Your over-reliance on your own reasoning that 'you weren’t able to come to a conclusion because there is no problem a conclusion could be generated from' successfully quieted your mind’s voice. You'd also frequently blame exhaustion, or your newfound hobby of watching human psychological crime shows during your off days for these subconscious ideas you had.

But you feared that the request Aizen made of you yesterday, the source of your current predicament, couldn't be blamed on any of those things. You looked at the clock again before returning to stare at your empty tea cup. For what reason could Sōsuke Aizen wish to meet you outside of the 1st division barracks? Specifically at this hour? You immediately thought of his question as uncharacteristic of him but prevented yourself from jumping to any further conclusions.

Aizen was a reasonable man, and you were sure there was a reasonable explanation.

With a final sigh of acquiescence, you stood up from your sitting position to retie your yukata before slipping a thicker, dark colored haori on top. You were unsure how cold it was this late at night or how long you'd be out, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

You paused for a moment, glancing longingly at your vanity mirror a few times, clearly torn between a decision, before giving in with a soft groan. Grabbing your favorite perfume, you quickly spritzed the spray onto both your inner wrists, either sides of your neck, and stray areas on your clothes. You’d proceed to make sure your hair was in order and your lips were as moisturized and glossy as a pair of tear-filled eyes before making your way to the door and slipping on your sandals.

Meeting with a captain— with Aizen of all people— in the dead of night resembled too closely to forbidden lovers rendezvousing under a fruit tree to fulfill their desires of embracing one another, with no one but the moon as their witness. The comparison alone caused the apples of your cheeks to burst aflame with embarrassment, and you lightly chastised yourself for even indulging in such an inappropriate train of thought. Such a scenario seemed far too deluded to even be considered ‘wishful thinking’.

But those delusions still seemed to make more sense than whatever other conclusion you have yet to reach.

Making your way out of your personal quarters, you activated your shunpo technique, stealthily hopping from one rooftop to the other in an effort to make it to Squad 1 barracks quicker.

After several minutes, your mind mostly engulfed with the 'what if's', the soles of your sandals finally touched ground, and you stood a few feet away from the massive walls and bridges that connected to and from the barracks. Even at night you were able to make out the bold-printed kanji for the number 1 that was painted on the building.

When you arrived, even from a nearby rooftop, you didn't see anyone around. Feelings of confusion and worry began to creep up and flicker to life in your mind.

But, as if your thoughts were as audible, you felt a light breeze of wind behind you, a familiar sound that indicated someone had made their presence known.

Startled, you reflexively reached for your zanpakuto, when you remembered that you hadn't even brought it with you. It still laid against the wall near your bed, just where you placed it earlier when you were relieved of your duties for the day.

You didn't think you needed it necessarily if you were just going to meet with Aizen, hence why taking it with you slipped your mind.

The flickers of concern were swiftly extinguished as your brain caught up with your body upon realizing who just appeared. A relieved sigh left your lips, a breath of air that seemed to release all the tension that had a grip on your heart and wound tight within your muscles. "Ah! Good evening Captain Aizen. You caught me off guard for a moment there."

"My apologies, that was not at all my intention." The Fifth Division Captain sported a dark colored scarf, his long captain's coat and the standard shihakushō all Gotei officers were supposed to wear. In the sash around his waist resided his own sheathed zanpakuto. His tawny hair maintained its usual part but looked slightly tousled, yet still remaining so in a meticulous fashion that made it look intentional.

The state of his hair alone, and his current facial expression made Aizen look more . . . approachable if that’s how you were to describe it. There was a glint in his eyes that you had seldom seen before.

"Thank you, for making your way down here to accommodate my rather. . . . atypical request. I again extend my apologies if I have inconvenienced you in any way."

You shook your head in reply, "It's alright, I wasn't doing anything too important anyway. Just having a cup of tea and delighting myself in a book before bed."

You glanced downwards at the foot or so of space that was wedged in between the two of you. You forced away the murmurs of your lingering thoughts that took note of how the moonlight and shadows danced across the surface of Aizen's face just right, and emphasized his decidedly handsome features.

"But having a complete and good night's rest is important to be fully functional in all areas of one's performance. Wouldn't you agree?"

You couldn't help but chuckle softly. "Yes, I do agree with that sentiment."

Aizen all but hummed in acknowledgement, letting a moment of silence fill the air before speaking again.

"Shall we be on our way?"

You nodded in agreement, following him as the both of you walked about the First Division grounds. From what you could tell based on your position, your aimless nightly stroll drew you closer to where Sokyoku Hill was located. The area became increasingly more grassy and contained less buildings.

Although Squad 1 grounds weren't terribly far from either of your barracks, you still weren't sure as to why Captain Aizen wished to meet out here. Initially you thought that perhaps he was just fond of this particular scenery, but really it could have been anything.

But still, you believed Aizen always had a purpose for everything he did.

After several moments, his warm voice replaced the evening silence, vocalizing your current thoughts. “I assume you are contemplating why it is I have asked you here, and I’m afraid the reason is quite benign. Truthfully, I just wished for your company. I often go on night walks to clear my head after a long day and thought I might invite you to join me this time, and have a conversation with each other."

Your brows shifted upwards, for that was not quite the answer you were expecting. It seemed too . . . simple. “Really? You just . . . wanted to talk with me? Plainly?”

The Squad 5 captain let out a short, soft laugh at the disbelief that was painted on your face. There was an expression of fondness present in his eyes and in the light smile he offered you. “Yes, exactly. I quite enjoy our discussions actually, they’re intellectually stimulating and relatively pleasant. You crossed my mind, and before yesterday, it has been quite some time since we’ve had the opportunity to unwind and talk.”

You hummed an mhmm in agreement, tearing your eyes away from Aizen’s side profile in favor of the hem of his captain’s haori, watching how it danced in the soft breeze. It seemed to be less distracting than the way Aizen peered down at you from time to time.

"I see. I am. . . . truly flattered by your words, Captain Aizen; you're too kind. Forgive me for asking but," you took longer strides so that you could fall into step next to him━ as if to speak to him more directly, "Why at this time? To talk with me, I mean. It couldn't wait until more . . . . . conventional hours?"

He chuckled again, and answered as smoothly as if he were awaiting you to ask him that. "Unfortunately, today's tasks ran a little long today, so I had to stay at my office later than usual." The spectacled man paused for a moment, before setting his soft gaze on you, "And besides, that completely defeats the purpose of inviting you on a night stroll, doesn't it?"

You ignored the heat flaring up in your cheeks again. Your mind refused to move past the fact that you had crossed Sōsuke Aizen's mind enough times━ or the times that he thought about you were significant enough━ and highly enough to invite you into his realm and indulge in these moments with him, when he very much could have done that alone.

A tender smile appeared on your lips, more towards yourself than the man next to you. "I. . . suppose it does."

The ashen-white moon only rose higher in the sky, providing an ambiance of tranquility as the both of you talked about whatever crossed the surface of your minds. Other times, the stillness of the night did the talking, and you'd listen to the leaves, and the wind, and the crickets sing together in harmony. Gradually as you walked and the beaten path grew more narrow, your figures drew closer together, until you could feel the long sleeves of his haori brush against your own.

You hadn't noticed that the two of you eventually stopped walking and paused under a tree until Aizen struck up conversation once more. When he called out your name in that gentle, velvety voice, you swore your heart was going to lurch out of your chest. The sound of your name rolled of his tongue so smoothly, the desire to hear it again grew within you.

"Uh━ yes, Captain Aizen?"

"Are you satisfied with way things are at the moment?"

You stood next to him, perplexed at his inquiry due to its vague nature. "Um, what. . . . things? I'm afraid I don't understand what you're asking."

The wind brushed Aizen's dark ochre tresses across his face as he took a step towards you, like the breeze itself was pushing him towards you. "Hm, perhaps I should be more clear then. Are you content with being a soul reaper? Are you satisfied with being a soldier for the Soul Society?"

With your brows slightly furrowed in thought, you remained silent for several seconds and overanalyzed his every word, trying to predict where he might be steering the conversation now. The longer you thought it over, the stronger that nagging feeling from within your soul became. The one that often told you what he was asking wasn't exactly . . . it didn't quite feel . . . . .

"This feels like a prelude to another insightful discussion on Shinigami━ and by extension━ Seiretei politics." Your words cut off your own thoughts, as if your mind was trying to sweep something under the proverbial rug.

Aizen huffed in amusement, before lightly shrugging, leaving your statement definitively unanswered.

You sighed as you seriously considered his question this time. "I mean sure, I guess. I'm somewhat satisfied with my job and all of . . . this," gesturing your hands in the air around you to emphasize your point. The 5th Division Captain made another humming noise, indicating that you still had his full attention. He inched a little closer into your personal space.

The mere action caused your next words to die in your throat and a quiet chuckle resounded from his, before your thoughts revived themselves again.

"Of course things could always be better but. . . . y'know. This is just how it is." You weren't quite sure if you should voice negative opinions about the Soul Society so plainly to a senior officer, even if he was the one who asked you in the first place, so you treaded lightly.

The same plainly relaxed smile from earlier remained painted across his lips, held in his chestnut irises was an emotion akin to affection. He seemed somewhat pleased that you were expressing your thoughts with him.

“And you? Are you satisfied, Captain Aizen?” You were unable to keep the teasing endearment out of your tone as you returned his gaze, casting aside the notions of Gotei officer seating and ranks for the moment. The air seemed like it shifted━ towards what, you weren't sure of━ but it kind of made you feel like you were adrift, floating in isolation from everything else around you.

It was still hard to process that you were alone with Captain Aizen right now. . . . at night.

A low hum reverberated within his chest, contemplative in nature as he replied, “Perhaps.”

The wind whistled lowly again, erecting goosebumps on whatever part of your skin happened to catch the midnight breeze. You fought the instinctual urge to twitch towards the nearest source of heat, which happened to be Aizen. Now that would be even more wholly inappropriate than the 'lovers meeting at midnight' scenario.

The silence between the both of you was brief, but comfortable nonetheless. Once more his mellifluous voice cut through the quiet, leveled and calm, like still ocean waters.

“Come. I want to show you something,” Aizen reached his arm out towards you, your spine as straight as if someone stuck a metal rod dipped in ice water down your robes.

The captain's movements seemed steady and slow━ it had felt like time itself had hesitated for several moments. You thought he was going to . . . . well you weren't sure what he was going to do, and that's what you made you nervous.

Was he going to touch you? Cradle your cheek? Remove a stray leaf that happened to land on your head? You were left somewhat dangling in anticipation, not daring to flinch backwards because you felt it would be disrespectful or offensive. You hadn't even blinked, subconsciously fearing that this was only a very vivid daydream.

But alas, when his arm drew near it extended past your head, slightly above you, and held a small branch in his palm it like a delicate flower. You released a breath you didn't know you were holding, but that breath drew short again when your gaze was eye level with his lower neck and chin.

He seemed . . . . closer.

“I think that regarding the condition of the Soul Society," Aizen began in a quiet voice, referencing his own reply to his earlier question, "and therefore my thoughts about it, is akin to this set of leaves on this branch."

Snapping out of whatever stupor you seemed to have slipped in, you exhaled softly before stepping back a bit to look at what he was talking about. In his palm he cradled a wayward branch that grew from one of the other sturdier branches of the tree. The green foliage of its arms had started to weaken and dull in color. The cold air due to the seasonal transition to autumn caused the leaves become brittle, nearing closer to the edge of death.

The sound of just how brittle they were resounded in the air when Aizen thumbed the leaves in between his fingertips, observing their texture with pity laced in his small movements.

"These leaves will fall off as it gets colder. And soon, the rest of this tree will be bare as well. When the time comes, when the right circumstances fall into place, the old die to make way and usher in the new; it's simply the way things are. I think of the Soul Society government is structured in a similar manner."

You hung onto his every word, like he were imparting crucial wisdom to you. Even though you were a bit confused on the last part, and on the connection between dying leaves and Soul Society, you still listened intently, waiting for him bridge the gap between the two.

"The Soul Society as it is now can be thought of as a season. And this particular season, this climate has remained so for several centuries. How can nature continue━ how can we continue to progress when the old have yet to be washed away by the currents of time? It defies that of nature, yes?" He directed this question at you specifically, in search of your agreement.

You nodded your head, tearing your gaze away from the branch and directed it at the grass beneath your feet. Your brows furrowed a little as you mused over Aizen's words. He gave a rather ambiguous answer before but now, his words sounded like vague displeasure and muted criticism. Everyone was entitled to their opinion, and on some fronts, you'd sometimes agreed with the 5th Division Captain. The Soul Society was far from perfect, too much emphasis on nobility and status, the government resembled too closely to an oligarchy . . . But you didn't━ wouldn't voice these thoughts, though.

Instead you hummed quietly under your breath. There was that tugging sensation again. This time it told you that there was something deeper to this conversation than meets the eye. But what could there be? Was there anything at all or were you just overthinking it?

The voice-like sensation in your soul was calling out to you, but you couldn't hear it that well or quite make out what it was saying. It's as if someone was calling out to you in a crowded room that had music playing on the speakers: you felt like if you listened hard enough you could make it out but ultimately, the result would fruitless.

"And when that happens," Aizen continued, "sometimes nature has to be gently nudged back on track to keep things moving smoothly. That may require . . . shaking the tree. Pulling a few harmful weeds from one's garden, so to speak."

"Weeds?" You echoed. You felt like you understood this analogy and therefore what he was trying to say, but at the same time you didn't. Or was it . . . . you didn't want to understand what he was implying?

Because if you were interpreting his words correctly, if he were inconspicuously comparing the higher-ups and the government itself to dying leaves and harmful plants that needed to be removed, then . . . .

"You, dear child, are a mere weed in this scenario."

Wait, what did he just━

Your thoughts were cut short when a gush of air that smelt strongly of Aizen━ warm oak, vanilla, and a kind of musk that you weren't sure how to describe but was still pleasant all the same━ brushed against your face and took you by surprise.

But there was another aroma that arose, steadily becoming more apparent alongside the increasingly painful throbbing feeling you felt in your abdomen.

It smelt metallic. And it was something that you've smelt all too many times before.

It was blood.

Your gaze that was initially narrowed in confusion lowered as it followed the source of this pain. Your eyes slowly widened in as you struggled to comprehend the blade that was currently ran through your torso.

Aizen's blade.

"Actually, instead of weeds, a more accurate and befitting analogy perhaps would be blades of grass. You unfortunately have to step on them in order to reach the weeds you want to remove."

You couldn't really focus on what the captain was saying, because your brain was still struggling to process what the hell just happened. Your hands slowly rose from their sides and shakily grazed the zanpakuto, wanting to believe that if you touched it, it would pass right through your fingers like mist. But no, the sensation of cold steel was as real as the robes you wore on your back. You only just now are processing the muffled squelching sound of his sword impaling your flesh.

You wanted to scream, to cry in pain, to vomit, to push him off━ something. But all you could do was stand there, stunned, words completely failing you. "Wh. . . . what? Why did . . . . you . . . . "

A cough replaced your attempt at a comprehensive sentence, and you tasted iron in your mouth.

Fuck....was this really happening?

"Please don't push yourself trying to talk," His voice was like an index finger to one's lips, similar to a parent's gentle caress to quiet and sooth their child, "You'll only hasten your death. And I'm sure you wish to know the reason for my killing you, yes? You'd have to be alive for that."

'Killing me?' 'My death?' The certainty that rang in his words chilled the blood in your veins, and they confirmed the one conclusion you hoped wouldn’t come true: that you were going to die.

The frigid embrace of fear and dread engulfed you from behind and you shivered, causing the blade snugly lodged in your organs to shift. The pain of that foreign object moving even a little bit shot through your entire body, causing a groan to emerge from your throat.

Desperate to conserve your energy and the oxygen that was becoming a little harder to take in, your breathing became uneven and a little wheezed. Even then, you couldn’t bring yourself to meet the gaze of Captain Aizen to confirm if this was really happening or just an extremely realistic and vivid nightmare. The sight you might be greeted with could be more frightening than the actual impaling of his sword.

As if his betrayal couldn’t actually or figuratively cut you any deeper, just then there was a noise that grew louder and louder within a matter of seconds until it was almost deafening. You’ve distinguished it to be the sound of glass crackling.

Your surroundings formed cracks everywhere on its surface, like it was just an oversized window. Even on the grass you stood on, or what you thought was grass, began to crumble away.

A dumbfounded but panicked look was plastered on your face when your world literally shattered around you, the only remnants of it being you and the Captain.

What was underneath the mirage━ or you should say, the fact that it was a mirage at all━ only disturbed you and increased your perplexity.

Slightly hunched over and breathing heavily, it took a minute to process where you were, but you noticed that now the two of you stood in a formal room that looked like it was used for important meetings. The lights in the room slowly started to brighten, most likely due to motion sensors. Even with Aizen's scent lingering in your nose, you could still pick out a rather stale aroma that hung in the air like dead fruit that hadn't fallen off the tree.

"Is . . . this Cen . . . tral━ "

"You are correct. Where we currently stand is the assembly hall for Central 46, the judicial power of the Soul Society. All judiciary as well as legislative trials and proceedings are held here."

All around the room were seats with partitions, the kanji for 1 through 46 printed on them. In the seat for the 19th member, your gaze caught onto something on the translucent barrier. It was a little farther up so you had to squint your already blurring vision to see it properly.

You saw, and your heart promptly sank as a result, eyes widening once more.

There were splatters of a dark colored substance on the partition━ undeniably blood. And the lithe, bony fingers of an older man laid lifeless, peeking out from the side of the screen like the appendages themselves were trying to escape from the body they were attached to.

That man . . . was dead. That stale aroma you smelt was the stench of death.

It was only after that unsettling epiphany did your eyes dart frantically around the room and realize that every member of Central 46 was dead.

The disturbed expression on your face only intensified as your stare was pulled back down to where Aizen's blade still resided in your body.

" Cap.....Aizen," you uttered, swift to correct yourself. All the moisture in your throat dried up like water underneath the unrelenting rays of the sun. You kept gulping your saliva in an attempt to assuage the sensation, but relief only last for a fleeting few seconds. "Did you ━ you killed them . . . didn't you?" Your question was laced with shaky hesitance and swelled with apprehension, fearing that you already knew his reply even before he answered.

There was a moment of silence and a hum before he replied. "Smart girl."

The muted mirthful tone in his voice sounded like sarcasm, and it was enough to finally draw your attention away from everything else and directly look at him. Almost instantly, you regretted it.

His umber tinted gaze was colder than you remembered. You couldn't find anything in his eyes that hinted that all of this was just a big misunderstanding, or a dream, or that Aizen had a secret sense dark and complex humor.

This was your first, and apparently your last time, that you have ever felt a fear such as this. Your mind was struggling to comprehend this was the same Aizen that spoke with you so gently, full of encouragement and wisdom. The same man that recommended you books to read and gifted you tea to drink and gazed upon you like . . .

Well, none of that mattered now. In this moment, Sōsuke Aizen wasn't the same man anymore. This Sōsuke Aizen was someone else, and it frightened you.

"When?" you croaked, your voice no longer sounding like your own. Nothing felt real anymore. "W-When did you . . . . . how? Why?"

Another noncommittal hum resounded from the spectacled man as he closed his eyes, feigning the action of thinking of an answer. When he reopened them, his narrow gaze returned to you.

"Everyone in the Thirteen Court Guard Squads was previously aware that the ability of my zanpakuto, Kyoka Suigetsu, allowed me to confuse the enemy using bodies of water, mist and even moisture in the air in order to attack. However, that is not my zanpakuto's actual power; there is more to it than just simple confusion. Kyoka Suigetsu's true power is Complete Hypnosis. Essentially, when someone looks at my blade, I am then able to take control of that person’s five senses, causing them to believe that something is real ━ or that something isn't real. In a way, once glancing at my unsheathed zanpakuto, that person forfeits their sense of existence to me. Kyoka Suigetsu is quite flawless in its deceptive abilities."

A heavy silence, aside from your uneven breaths, endured in the space between both of you. You didn't need him to spell out what he was trying to say.

It was all . . . . an illusion. A convoluted, premeditated illusion. And you walked right into it without even knowing or considering, that it was all fake.

The Fifth Division Captain inwardly smiled at the despair clearly written on your face as he watched you mentally put the pieces together. He took your lack of reply as a sign to continue. "The members of Central 46 have unfortunately been dead for quite some time now. And as for your question of why......"

The taller man stepped towards you which inadvertently (or purposely, you began to fear), drove his sword deeper into your abdomen without warning and slight force. You bit down on your bottom lip hard to stifle your exclamation of pain. In an attempt to somehow resist him, with the little strength you had left, your hands automatically took purchase in his oversized sleeves, but it did nothing. You found it ironic that you could feel how warm Aizen was underneath his robes, but his soul was anything but.

" . . . . I believe I already mentioned it earlier, yes? All flowers die eventually and the weeds......must be removed."

At that moment you remembered that tugging sensation that told you something felt off in some instances whenever you talked with Aizen. This must have been what it was. Damn it all. You still didn't understand exactly what bad things Central 46 and the Soul Society have done to cause his actions, but based on what you've been told and your current position, it must have been heinous. Again, you actively swallowed the urge to vomit.

"You . . . you lied. I can't believe━ how could it have all b-been a lie?" Another nasty cough rattled your body, followed by a shiver and a groan.

The brown-haired man slightly tilted his head, like he was truly confused. "Lied? Hmm, well. I suppose you could put it that way based on your limited knowledge of the circumstances, but I wouldn't put it that way. Besides, this isn't really about truth or lies. It is, and always has been, only about the reality of what is. And what is, is that you were unable to anticipate my deception. No one could, because it was outside the domain of your thoughts. What is, is that the current way the Soul Society operates is tainted, and I shall be the one to remedy it."

You drew another shuddering breath and looked down at the ground with a grim expression as your blood continued to pool at your feet. Briefly, you even considered unsheathing yourself from his blade and take the chance to make a run for it, but the chances of you making it to the outside world, let alone coming across someone before you bled out and died were slim. Besides, it was clear that you couldn't even trust your own senses anymore after Aizen demonstrated that he had complete control of your reality.

Which reminded you of something else.

" . . . when?" you asked the same question again, but much quieter than before, despair palpable in your voice. 'When and how did you subject me to your zanpakuto's Complete Hypnosis?', is what you were really asking. And being as intelligent as he was, the spectacled man understood.

Abruptly, with a large palm on the small of your back, Aizen used his gentle hold grip to pull you towards him in order to close the remaining distance, causing him to drive the remaining length of his zanpakuto all the way through until the tsuba of his blade rested against your stomach. You looked like a skewered piece of meat.

You didn't have the willpower to hold back the piercing shriek of agony and physical anguish as tears sprung forth from your eyes. You could no longer tell if your blurry vision was due to your tears obstructing your sight or if it was from being a step away from death's door.

"Do you remember . . . the first time we met?"

The hand that rested on your lower back slowly glided upwards until his fingers found your jaw. With a tenderness that reminded you of a time before his betrayal, he lifted your chin and guided your gaze to look at him directly. His thumb moved to graze your bottom lip just as you've done mere hours ago━ as if he knew that, as if he watched you do it. His thumb was dangerously close to slipping inside your mouth and that both excited and scared you. Your breasts against his, your breaths synchronized with his, your body and his were fully pressed against each other and it made focusing on his question more difficult.

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. The first time . . . we met? Sure, with a little bit of effort you could easily recall the first time you formally met Aizen. It was sometime in the spring, and you remembered him running through combat formations with his lieutenant and the rest of his squad. But why d━

A silent gasp left you. Another epiphany, another figurative blade piercing your heart.

Battle formations, and he . . . offered you to join them . . . his zanpakuto . . . . .

Confusion crumbled away, and was replaced with vacant horror and sadness. It seems you've already been defeated, for many, many years now.

Aizen seemed to murmur something under his breath, a pleased sound you couldn't quite decipher. His mouth brushed over yours, rendering you literally speechless, before he closed the distance and brought your lips together. You could barely process what was happening.

It was ironically tragic how soft and skillfully gentle his lips were against yours. The kiss felt longing, like a departure between two sweethearts and their last meeting together. It also felt heavy and final, making you want to cry.

And you did. Silent tears streamed from your eyes and rolled onto the fingers that still held your face so affectionately. The captain reacted by guiding your chin up a little further, dipping his head a little lower, so he could deepen the kiss. You weakly scorned yourself for thinking about how the two of you must really look like lovers now, sans the sword sticking out from your back.

Oh, how cruel this was; how cruel he was. It was cruel for him to kiss you like this, hand still splayed on your back like he needed to touch you stay sane. And how cruel it was that still managed to enjoy it, even as you stood there dying. Your lips moved together in tandem, slow and almost passionate, all while tears stained the apples of your cheeks, drying up the plush youth that once resided in them.

Aizen's tongue had slithered its way into your mouth, and you suddenly felt like crying harder. There was a tart, sweet flavor lingering on his tastebuds, and you absently wondered what is was. Perhaps hibiscus from tea, you surmised. And he too tasted the sweet jasmine and citrus that clung your tongue and lips. At this, he chuckled quietly into your mouth, humming before retracting from you by a few inches so he could speak.

"I knew you would like the tea. It's sweet and flavorful, isn't it?" You hated how low his voice was, how its timbre pleasurably vibrated and rumbled against your lips, and you hated that lidded stare he gave you. You again thought it unfair that you couldn't even revel in the rare sight of Aizen's lips slightly wet because your lips were intertwined with his.

"I have to thank you for humoring me and my recommendations. I really appreciated it. And I also," you winced loudly and cried out in affliction as Aizen finally began to withdraw the sword from your body, "must to bid you farewell now. It seems you don't have any more time left, and this has dragged on for longer than it needed. I'm not surprised you've held out for this long, as I already knew you possessed commendable strength. But alas it wasn't enough. I am sorry that you have to die; it's rather regrettable that you happened to be that blade of grass that ended up underneath my foot."

Another wail was yanked from your chest as he steadily removed his sword from your abdomen. The pain was becoming excruciating, you would have collapsed by now if the taller man weren't holding you.

You saw two things before the light in your eyes had all but faded away. The first were the colors of faux pity and apathy that swirled in Sōsuke Aizen's irises, spiraling like a storm that was certain to wreak havoc in its wake. His gaze was devoid of any regret or remorse; the final metaphorical nail on the coffin. The second was a small smile.

But this wasn't one of his smiles you were familiar with. No wait . . . . the one you knew was simply a veneer of what is.

This smile was slanted, the corners of his lips tilted upwards and was sharp. Sharp enough to cut open your already gaping wound further and completely tear you apart, spelling out your demise. It looked insidious as if it were hiding razor-edged fangs. This was what is; Aizen's real smile.

"I. . . I see. Aize. . . ." were the last words you were able to manage. You didn't have the strength to be upset or hurt any longer, so you gave in to the exhaustion.

Your body permanently relaxed, long lashes veiling your now empty eyes as your arms lifelessly dropped to your sides. The captain found a disturbing amount of pleasure in his name being the final word you attempted to speak before succumbing to the sleep of death.

And even after the fact, the facade of doomed, star-crossed lovers persisted as your body slumped backwards. Aizen's strong forearm wrapped tightly around your waist being the only reason you didn't fall to the ground in a puddle of your own blood.

That day was the last anyone saw of you, your zanpakuto still laid idly in your room, its spirit destined to forever wander in the afterlife between worlds alone, eventually fading from existence without ever feeling the presence of its master again.

They had declared you missing by the end of the next day. Lieutenant Hisagi was probably the most perturbed about your sudden disappearance. Days, weeks passed, and they never located you. The Gotei 13 was left unsettled by the lack of progress, but ultimately had to rule your case inconclusive. Some believed that you were simply killed by a stray hollow, or even ran away from your duties because of the stress.

The news of what happened spread like wildfire across all the squads, that a high-ranked officer just up and vanished without a trace. The spirits and morale of the thirteen companies dampened, sorrow and worry swelling like a festering boil.

And that boil burst when Ryoka infiltrated the Soul Society, and when it was revealed that all of it was carefully orchestrated by Sōsuke Aizen.

Like a blade of grass that somehow snuck into one's sandals or in between their toes, during his time in Hueco Mundo, images of you flashed in his head at unexpected times when his mind was quiet. He'd remove the grass, tossed you aside, and moved on with his day. There was no room for you in the grand scheme of things. Such reminisces were beneath someone like him.

And yet.

He'd always find another piece of grass from the greenery he stepped on whenever he advanced a step in his plans. There you were again.

It was common knowledge that if you kept repeating the same action over and over, it will eventually wear you down.

━━━━━━ 鏡  ━━━━━━━

It was dark, and there was nothing.

There had been nothing for quite a long time now. Utter darkness and the abyssal shade of black engulfed every inch of Aizen's body and surroundings.

He saw nothing, the seals over his eyes too opaque to let anything through. And even if they weren't obscuring his vision, he would barely be able to see three feet in front of him; there was seldom a few lanterns in his cell to begin with. He felt nothing but the bindings that kept him imprisoned in one of the deepest pits of the Seireitei. At times it felt like even his internal organs had stilled in their functions. He heard nothing but the unrelenting quiet of his cell within Mugen's maw. The only thing that served as proof that he hasn't spontaneously grown deaf yet was the occasional muffled noise that originated from outside of the entrance. And even then, he could hardly hear much of anything.

Such is an ironic fate for someone who, with a stray thought and a glint of his blade, could control someone's senses and take away their free will to experience those senses in their reality. And now, he was stripped away of all of his in nearly every capacity.

Sōsuke Aizen was rendered stationary and stagnant, qualities he detested and were the antithesis of his ambitions and plans, perhaps even his existence.

Aizen had always believed in being in control of your own destiny and making your own choices; if you had the opportunity and the power to change something━ especially if it was something that was wrong, unfair or immoral━ then one should be able to move towards that goal by making change, even if by force. The former captain had always been intentional about his actions and his desires right from the start.

And yet, here he ended up.

Spending years strapped to a chair in this dark, cloistered hole, Aizen had nothing but time to reflect the reason for his arrest: that orange haired Ryoka boy, Ichigo Kurosaki. He had nothing but time to admit to himself and settle on the conclusion that his last battle with the substitute Shinigami . . . did something to him.

Fighting the Ryoka boy ignited something inside him that he previously believed would forever lay dormant.

The thrill of a challenge.

Adrenaline was injected into his veins with each clash of their swords, spreading far and wide across every inch of his body. It no longer reacted in the measured, calculative manner he had programmed it to, but with unadulterated, pure instinct and raw power━ all in an effort to not only withstand such potent spirit energy from his opponent, but to come out on top and win.

It made him feel alive.

Aizen's desire to be the victor in battle and in his philosophy━ to prove himself right━ both fueled him and consumed him so thoroughly it led to his own downfall. That was a rather difficult fact to acknowledge; so much so his head started to pulsate intensely whenever it crossed his mind one time too often.

All of it unfolded right in front of his eyes and yet . . . he didn't really see it happen.

As time passed during his perpetual incarceration, with hooded eyes, the former captain spent an unfathomable amount of time tossing and turning every single event that led him to this underground prison, even pondering his temporary release by the Head Captain Kyōraku to fight in the war. Scenarios both minor and significant displayed itself in front of his mind's eye as if he were watching a film.

Every so often, a blurred visage of your image would make a brief appearance, like the flickering sparks of a match before they were able to come to light, fading away into the void and were overshadowed by his other thoughts. It was as if his own consciousness and intentionally muted any manifestations of your existence in his memories. As if he wasn't able to or allowed to see them━ to remember you for too long.

Mentally reliving moments from the last several months, years, decades, centuries━ trying to analyze each moment and decipher where it could have went wrong━ turned out to be quite an exhausting task. His mind and body would grow heavier with inertia, and eventually he would succumb to the alluring pull of slumber. After some time he would rouse from his sleep, and continued from where he left off.

These were his daily activities day in and day out (even though he had trouble distinguishing day and night in his chambers) for years. He saw a positive side to it though. He'd instead think of it has him getting stronger because he had spent so long . . . thinking. Ruminating. Contemplating every possibility in the past, present, and future. His mind would become as sharp as his zanpakuto.

Aizen had always been intentional about what he did, what he said, and how he conducted himself. He was sure in his abilities to orchestrate an image━ a belief for others to have faith in, and act on it in order to further his goals. He was always sure in that image, knowing who he was and what he stood for.

Or at least, that's what he thought.

Aizen wasn't consciously aware that his certainty in this crafted image had already begun to waver. He could not and was unable to anticipate how severe these small fractures had become until after a certain lieutenant paid him a visit outside his cell of confinement, right before he was scheduled to be thrown back into that dark hole of the Mugen.

Lieutenant Shuhei Hisagi was quite emotive when he burst through the doors. His expressions were contorted in volatile mixture of frustration, anger and sadness. His emotions were every which way, directed at everything that has happened so far, including himself. He was especially emotive at Aizen specifically for what he did to former captain Kaname Tosen and 'corrupting him with his twisted ideals.'

Aizen found amusement in that.

Before he was rolled away by the punishment force and therefore out of earshot, a particular set of Hisagi's words caused the small, content smile on his lips to uncurl ever so slightly. "Everything . . . and everyone that has ever gotten themselves involved with you has been trampled on by you and your ideals one way or another, and they all end up dead. If you think what you did to Captain Tosen was justified━ to call it mercy . . . . . then there is truly no justice in this world. You will . . . forever be the enemy in my eyes."

There was a trembling anger in his voice. Pain that wanted to cry out and be set free but, the thin lid of reason prevented it from doing so. And after a moment of silence, the corners of Aizen's lips curved upwards once more. A little bemused, a little more wolfish this time. He maliciously imagined Hisagi's reaction if he ever discovered the true reason for your disappearance.

But instead, all he said was. "What an interesting thing to say, Shuhei Hisagi. Your conviction is admirable." Any evidence of emotion that might have been reflected in his sepia irises was swallowed up and obscured by the darkness of the Mugen's jaw.

The cracks in Aizen's sense of self, in his beliefs, in the image he invented started to cave under the weight of Hisagi's words before he himself realized it was happening. They were like stains in the fabric of his mind that refused to come out.

What puzzled him more, was that with each attempt to figure out just why Hisagi's words echoed in his mind, they all lead back to you, the third seat of the 9th squad. Annoyingly so.

The tattooed lieutenant hadn’t said anything particularly profound ━ at least, Aizen didn't think so. Your name didn’t even fall from his lips. So why were memories of you and your likeness the only clear thoughts he could make of Hisagi's speech? Was it because he was aware of how close the two of you were? He doubted the reason were that trivial and insignificant.

His thoughts grew more discordant by the day, his soul a little more weighted than usual. Perhaps these new seals that Urahara had fashioned actually had an effect on him, Aizen thought. It made sense. His intellect, other than his own, were the only ones capable of creating such effective restraints.

After a while, he had a revelation. This was a different kind of weight.

This heaviness, the closest word he knew to describe it as . . . . was loneliness.

Time taunted him as it seemed to drag on━ Aizen grew even less sure of how much━ when he came to this realization. Hisagi's words were a clear mirror to the loneliness that echoed within him after what happened to you and to Tosen. It was so . . . potent, that it seemed to strike some chord in Aizen he had never heard before.

Such a chord, this sound of loneliness, it was strange and uncomfortable; he wasn't very fond of this sensation. He'd try to scrub it away, but it was all for naught.

His eyes had slid shut at some point, his ruminations leading to dead ends and wearing him down. And, almost as expected, there you were again, in all your translucent glory. The hem, the sleeves, and even the smell of your yukata slowly dragged across his dreams, haunting his thoughts like a lonely wraith.

And Aizen hardly dreamt of anything.

When he regained consciousness he was plagued with yet another epiphany. An additional reason behind this newfound depth.

Aizen's own loneliness. Guilt. Much to his own quiet horror.

How foreign and unusual a thing like guilt is. It was like looking into a mirror and not recognizing something you had never noticed before, but wondered if it had always been there.

But the thing Aizen did recognize, how lonely he actually felt, was something he had hoped would never resurface again. It was a notion he hadn't had the time or regard to consider━ 'loneliness'. Its only purpose, if any, was solely to serve as a motivator. At times though, it was more like a hindrance.

Something akin to nausea slowly started to bubble up in the pit of his stomach, but he suppressed the sensation before it became any more intense.

What of his previous actions did he need to feel guilty for? He hadn't felt it then, so why would he feel it now? Again he ruminated such a question endlessly into oblivion.

The former captain had no doubts that his plan to remove the Soul King, and therefore the Soul Society's sins, were necessary.

Nor did any hesitancy about removing the opposition or dead weight━ whether shinigami or arrancar━ existed.

He certainly had no reservations against killing Kaname Tosen, for he knew the man well enough to know that Tosen would have been so thoroughly appalled with what he had become, it would have drove him mad.

So what was it, then? Why were such useless emotions as guilt and loneliness being amplified n━

"Y....know, S....."

Even covered by the seals, Aizen's eyes widened and his brows were slightly furrowed in distress. Had his mind finally tipped the scales of sanity and madness, to the point where he was hearing things?

It was quiet for several moments longer, before his senses caught onto the sound of water dripping onto a hard surface.

One drop at a time.

Its cadence a little too rhythmic to be natural. And for a second time, he heard that soft, ominous sounding whisper. Its voice a little clearer this time.

"You...know.....Sōsuke."

In the second it took for his eyes to flutter shut behind its seals to blink, when he reopened them, he was no longer sealed to the walls and floors of the Mugen, nor was he surrounded by every shade of darkness imaginable. His limbs and senses were finally freed to breathe for the first time in what felt like ages.

That relief was short-lived when his senses absorbed the unending landscape of water underneath his feet, water lilies lifelessly floating on its surface, and the dim sky illuminated by a full pale moon.

Aizen was in his inner world, and now he was aware of how he got here, or rather who brought him here.

"You . . . already know the answer to that question, Sōsuke." The voice was even more clear, its sentences more comprehensible. And it sounded it eerily like you.

Why the voice was impersonating your likeness had caught him off guard for half a second, but he realized it was only the work of his zanpakuto, Kyoka Suigetsu.

An illusion it may be, there was an untouchable quality about your voice and how you spoke that even Kyoka Suigetsu couldn't replicate.

A few feet away from him, the water was disturbed by a being emerging from the depths. Ripples formed around a manifested version of his zanpakuto, who took the form of you, smiling ever so gently. The smile felt airy, and it didn't seem like the same one that haunted his dreams and every waking thought as of late. It felt....knowing.

Still, the former captain couldn't be bothered to maintain eye contact with his sword spirit, so he turned around and opted to keep his unreadable stare trained on the vast expanse of water and white lilies.

"It's been quite a while since I have stepped foot into this realm. There must be something you want . . . Kyoka."

The zanpakuto chuckled, it sounded like the way you would softly laugh at one of his clever quips. But this wasn't you.

He didn’t want to admit that something about that fact didn’t sit right with him.

"Judging from your tone, would I be correct in assuming you don't want to be here?"

Silence rang out within the soul scape, before Aizen interrupted it, his gentle voice colored a shade darker, and a little rigid. "And I fail to see the reason why you must take that form when you revealed yourself to me. Is your aim to get a reaction out of me? Or something along those lines?"

Your eyes━ the eyes of Kyoka Suigetsu━ narrowed at its master's back, as if they were trying to create concavities in his skull. But the expression was washed away the moment it appeared, the serene smile from before was back in place.

"You know . . . it's considered quite rude to not look at someone when you're addressing them. That, and when you deliberately ignore things they say. Your manners have been deteriorating, Sōsuke. Tsk, tsk."

Kyoka-dressed-as-you suddenly appeared before him, as if they had teleported. Even when they were in his peripheral vision, Aizen still maintained his stare off into the distant nothingness.

"Unless, you can't find it in yourself to look at me. . . that's correct, isn't it? It's because I look exactly like her, right?" The zanpakuto continued to provoke him, taking a step closer into his personal space.

With an exasperated sigh, his eyelids fell shut for a second, using that time to gather the strength he didn't know he needed, and directed his gaze to meet his spirit's. Aizen's face gave nothing away, but his heart lurched about his chest when his bronze eyes met with yours, or what was made to look like yours. The undesired affect it had on him was all the same.

"If you wish to chastise me about manners, I suggest you take your own advice. You didn't answer my first question, either: what is it you want? Why am I here?" Again the former captain chose to not address the other parts of Kyoka's statement. For the sake of his sanity and his thinning patience━ or was it to preserve his resolve?

Its smile widened a bit, moving another step closer to their master. God, Kyoka even smelled like you, mimicking your signature honeyed scent that Aizen didn't realize he found so intoxicating until this very moment.

"I called you here to save you from yourself."

Aizen remained silent, only narrowing his eyes in speculation. "Meaning?"

"Didn't I already say it earlier? I think you already know what I'm talking about, Sōsuke. You've always known."

Fate's pairing of Kyoka Suigetsu with Aizen was a match crafted from the spindles of heaven, but also a maddening curse pulled from the depths of hell, for they complimented each other a little too well. The zanpakuto was too perfect a reflection of Aizen and his soul, looking at it started to hurt his eyes.

His sword spirit insisted that he already knew the reason for his coming here, and perhaps he did have an inkling the moment the light of epiphany was shone on his profound loneliness and guilt. But that couldn't have been what it was referring to . . . . could it?

"You cannot feign ignorance here, my dear Sōsuke, however I do find it rather humorous you bother trying. If you'd like, I don't mind humoring you by spelling it out for you. I'd be glad to unearth the truth that you have buried in the most neglected corner of your heart."

"When you were . . . . subjecting yourself to such mental torment, it had an affect on this world as well. The ripples, the waves in this scape become quite . . . tumultuous." The nuances in your voice were perfected by his zanpakuto, but the way it talked sounded like a fog that was gradually closing in from over the horizon. The uneasy feeling that resided in his chest traveled down to his stomach, but Aizen's face remained steely, even when Kyoka Suigetsu took that final step to close the gap in between them. "And the reason for that, the reason why Hisagi's words rattled you so is because you regret killing that woman."

The creased line in Aizen's brow grew more prominent as he stared down his sentient sword spirit. With its breast pressed against his, they placed a hand on his clothed chest in a tantalizing manner, but he felt nothing. There was no warmth from its palm, much unlike when your hand touched him. There wasn't even a cool sensation either. Even minutes before your death, your touch brought a soothing heat that permeated through his shihakusho and penetrated his skin.

Kyoka's face grew nearer, their smile━ although still tender looking━ grew cold at its edges, nearly resembling that of a predator eager to see despair reflected in the eyes of its prey. It didn't fit the graceful allure of your face at all, and seeing this expression deeply unsettled the former captain more than he would like to admit.

"You regret . . . killing me."

A chill tore through Aizen's body, the weight of Kyoka's words adding onto the heaviness that still hasn't been alleviated from his heart; he was hardly able to suppress the involuntary shiver.

Without warning, Kyoka's mouth suddenly became dangerously close to their master's, its lips brushing against his in a provocative manner. Aizen's expression darkened when he realized that it was reenacting his last encounter with you when you were alive. His mouth started to grow uncomfortably dry, despite his soul scape being full of moisture, and there was a taste on the back of his tongue that's been lingering there since he arrived.

The lilt in Kyoka's tone continued to taunt him. "That is the reason for your guilt: regret. You have been in denial. And in the spirit of unearthing truths, I suppose I can admit that perhaps . . . . I've been . . . . encouraging said delusions, adding drops of fuel into the flames of your emotions and ambitions. But after all that's happened, when it comes down to it there's no point in continuing this hallucination any longer. I've grown tired of this game, so it's time to for you wake up now, Sōsuke. I've brought you here to release you from your own illusion, to completely shatter it."

Aizen's back was as stiff as a board, not moving a millimeter when Kyoka's lips grazed his again. They were breathing softly onto his mouth, but he hardly felt any puffs of air.

The former captain was having a rather difficult time processing the fact that his zanpakuto had its own agenda and had been manipulating his emotions without him noticing. Specifically the emotions he felt towards you.

He never truly believed that such a thing was possible, one's own blade having such a deep-rooted influence━ no, control over their master. Or would it be more accurate to say that he never expected himself to be controlled to such a degree? He that prided himself on being freed from the marionette strings of fate that were tied to his limbs and mind, he that relished being able to do what he wanted, think what he wanted, feel what he wanted━ or what he didn't want━ it was hard to believe that none of that mattered in the end.

Kyoka Suigetsu's deceptive abilities were indeed undeniably perfect. No one, not even Aizen himself could have anticipated that Kyoka's most absolute and complete hypnosis would be enacted on himself.

"Do you know now, Sōsuke? Do you understand?" Kyoka's voice was as soft as a whisper, but it couldn't hide the edges of its tone that were still sharpened from finding amusement of seeing the truth flash across its master's face. "You had destroyed the solution to your existential question of loneliness, before you could fully understand the question itself."

Yes . . . . . Aizen understood now.

He didn't bother acknowledging what Kyoka had said. His grim facial expression━ still, tinged with dolor, and paired with an indescribable, distant look his eyes━ said all that it needed to. His silence was as much as an admission as any.

Kyoka-dressed-as-you leaned forward again to fully close the gap between their lips and Aizen's. Tenderly, like the intentions of a lover, it spoke against his nearly closed mouth. "Have you figured it out yet?"

Nothing but quiet could be heard between them, as Kyoka's mouth moved about their master's face and placed something like kisses upon its surface, but not quite.

Aizen's cocoa-shaded eyes slide down to stare at his sword spirit pressed up against him. His gaze was hard, and yet something swam underneath its surface that his zanpakuto had never seen before. Melancholy, it guessed? They weren't quite sure.

Kyoka pressed on when Aizen remained quiet. "The taste in the back of your mouth. Have you figured out what it was? You know it quite well....."

Aizen's tongue grazed the roof of his mouth, sensing the rather unpleasant taste that has coated the inside of it. And within a moment, because he was faced with the current circumstances, Aizen had finally placed a name associated this particular taste. How unfortunate this was.

Upon his realization, Aizen's head lowered, and his brown tresses hung freely over his lashes. Perhaps it was so Kyoka couldn't properly see whatever remorseful expression painted their master's face, but it mattered not. Even from here, the sword spirit could already sense exactly what it was he was feeling.

And they loved it.

"It's a sweet and flavorful taste, isn't it? Quite lovely." Kyoka Suigetsu mimicked the exact words he uttered against your lips all those years ago when he tasted jasmine tea on your tongue, and sealed your death with a kiss. "It's too bad you don't seem to enjoy it anymore."

Aizen's chest continued to rise and fall calmly, and the hands of his sword spirit that rested there glided upwards to cup his strong jaw, caressing his skin with its thumb. Its phantasmic touch did nothing to stir their master.

"Sōsuke, do you know what the jasmine flower from that tea symbolizes?"

Aizen's lips were slightly parted, but again he didn't say anything. Instead, its corners twitched and lifted upwards by an inch, and he huffed softly.

Kyoka Suigetsu grinned in reply. "Good."

The next time Aizen blinked, he was plunged in darkness yet again. The restrictive feeling that swallowed his being whole had returned, and was an indicator that his zanpakuto had released him from his inner world. He was consciously back in the Mugen, back in this abyss they called a prison cell.

Kyoka was indeed as much as a formidable force in its own right, as much as, if not greater than Aizen himself.

The conversation he had with his sword spirit would be cemented in his head for all eternity. When he grew senile and began to physically wither away, the one thing that would remain vital like a young heart, was this epiphany that he had. This realization that he actually . . . .

As the chains of despair bound him tighter to the bottom of the metaphorical pit, regret and his loneliness corroding his flesh and spirit like metal exposed to moisture, a stray memory of his time in Hueco Mundo flashed in his mind. He recalled having tea prepared for meetings with his Espadas and he could not pinpoint when, but at some point, Aizen developed an aversion for jasmine flavored tea. For one reason or another, he no longer found its taste appealing; whenever he drank it, it always tasted bitter.

Now that reason had become painstakingly clear.

The binding on his mouth muffled a rueful chuckle at the though, and it trapped the flavor of jasmine on his lips.

(#) @soaringmirror @stygianoir @ryukenzz @blkjupiters @chrissie2003 @nymphoheretic @dejwrld @triangularz @souyaszn @kuujo @honeybleed @valentineluvu . let me know if you’d like to be apart of my tag list ♡♡.

[novy2sirius]

High vs low vibrational

neither is “bad” when there’s balance. to feel the positive feelings of the higher vibrations more intensely we must know what it’s like to feel the lower ones. just like the chakras when one is active, but not the others, it creates imbalance. we are meant to feel highs and lows as humans. feeling low vibrational is normal. when feeling low vibrational for a long period of time though it can damage someone spiritually and cause them to spiral and struggle with things like happiness, manifestation, and enlightenment. this doesn’t mean you can’t heal from being low vibrational long term though. life is all about healing and bouncing back. when i say a person will take on the negative traits of an astrology/numerology placement if they’re low vibrational it doesn’t mean they will take on those traits forever. people can heal and change. that’s why recently i prefer the term low/high vibrational when speaking about astrology rather than “evolved and unevolved” because you don’t just evolve one day and stay that way forever. we aren’t like pokemon. how our spiritual placements manifest is of course dependent on where exactly we’re at in life. regardless of your beliefs about spirituality though, even scientifically, we all have a frequency that is constantly changing and energy that exists in the quantum realm constantly changing its vibrational state

[k-nayee]

Fallen Hazbin Hotel i

wc: 3.3k a/n: this will be a slight au goes cause ngl i never really made it past episode 2💀

Traveler M.List

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ˏ⸉ˋ‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˏ⸉ˋ‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˏ⸉ˋ‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ

The creation of your soul was unlike any other.

In the hallowed space where human souls were molded, Seraphim Sera worked beside the successor of Lucifer in the celestial sanctum dedicated to new life.

Though Emily had grown adept at forming souls over the eons, she still found herself studying Sera's technique with curiosity and deference.

This time, however, she noticed an unusual stillness in Sera. There was a hint of sorrow in her—deeper than any Emily had seen before.

The state of humanity weighed heavily on Sera's heart. It was something even the sacrifice of Jesus had not remedied.

Where she had hoped to see more unity and compassion, humanity continued to stumble.

Devoted to creation and guidance and yet here she was: moved to a grief that seemed to reach even her divine powers.

Without Sera's knowledge that sorrow imprinted itself on the soul she was forming.

As her fingertips hovered over the amorphous light, her unspoken worries and heartache transformed it, seeping into the essence she shaped.

You were different from the start—a rare blend of purity and compassion, a hope born from despair.

No other soul had quite the same resonance as yours. It was as if each fragment of light carried Sera's lingering wish for humanity's redemption.

Emily remained silent as she observed. For all the thousands of souls she had seen, none had been like this. She could sense Sera's guarded admiration as well.

Though Sera (ever the professional) did not show overt favoritism, there was a lingering gaze—a brief stillness, every time her eyes fell upon you.

And then, just as quickly, she'd retreat to her disciplined demeanor as though she could not allow herself the luxury of attachment.

Once your formation was complete, you were sent to Earth with no knowledge of the watchful presence behind your existence.

From the beginning the world proved to be harsh and unforgiving.

Abandoned as a child and abused by those who should have protected you, you were thrust into a life of struggle.

And yet in spite of it all no bitterness clouded your heart nor did hatred take root; instead you grew wise to life's difficulties, meeting each day with a kindness that was resolute.

Each act of goodwill, every kindness you extended, seemed to spark a subtle ripple effect—something that shaped the lives of others and sent positive changes flowing into places you couldn't see.

Having never grown hard or cynical to life, you were granted angelic ascension upon your death.

Upon your arrival Sera awaited you at the gates, a subtle smile softening her usually serious expression as she guided you to your new position before going off to her own responsibilities.

Life in Heaven felt nearly surreal.

Though the celestial realms were as awe-inspiring as they were vast, you felt a strange pang of loneliness among the hierarchy of angels—most of whom seemed untouched by the hardships you remembered from Earth.

Your days was spent in quiet work under higher-ranking overseers with often yourself as company in the towering halls of Heaven.

That was until you were summoned to Adam's chambers.

You had heard much about him from other angels beyond his legacy as the first man. He was someone who had a commanding presence—sharp wit.

But as you stood before him, despite his evident authority, he exuded an oddly modern charm—a confident, slightly arrogant air that might have been more suited to a CEO than an Archangel.

He looked you up and down, his piercing gaze sizing you up as if deciding whether he could work with you at all.

In those first weeks Adam had made his displeasure known. He rarely missed an opportunity to grumble about the favor he was doing for Sera.

You were a lower-ranking angel after all. And Adam made no secret of his annoyance over this fact. It was shown through your tasks.

They were menial at first: simple records and errand-like duties—which unbeknown to you, was actually ordered to test your resolve rather than develop skills.

He was meticulous and unyielding, a mentor who would not accept anything less than perfection and barely acknowledged your efforts even when they met his exacting standards.

But as the days weeks turned to months there were subtle changes. Sometimes he would sit back and watch you with a look that lingered a bit longer than he intended.

You'd catch him softening in brief moments when he thought you weren't watching with a slight curve of his mouth when you managed something especially well.

And over time his critiques mellowed into an almost playful teasing. The conversations once clipped and formal took on a different tone.

He would linger after giving you a task—recounting stories of the early days of humanity, speaking of his own creation and the burden of his role with a tone that almost resembled confession.

Then one day he invited you to walk with him in the gardens—an invitation that you knew wasn't extended to just anyone.

As you strolled among Heaven's flowering vines and ethereal fountains he casually asked about your Earthly experiences, or as he put it, the "domino effect" Sera mentioned in your file.

You told him of your life as a human and the trials you faced and the choice to meet the world with kindness despite its many hardships.

Then, for the first time ever, a full fledged smile graced his face. Its tenderness filled the stillness around you.

That unspoken bond grew. 

Even the other angels began to notice Adam's (in all his aloofness) distinct warmth that was reserved only for you.

He still carried himself with that familiar arrogance and exuded his usual authority, but his eyes softened when you were near.

His usual cutting words now had an underlying fondness that only the two of you fully understood.

You didn’t speak of it—didn’t dare name it. But when you were alone there was an undeniable closeness.

It went beyond his usual dismissive flirtations or occasional compliments. His hand would linger on yours a moment too long, his touch warm and grounding as he guided you through the grand halls.

You still felt the guarded edges around him even as he allowed this closeness. Almost as if he were keeping a part of himself hidden.

Though you yearned to know more, knowing the gentleness Adam has for you was reserved for no one else made up for it.

For now that was enough.

════════════════*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═════════════════

The revelation came upon you like a sudden storm.

It seemed ordinary enough—one of those rare quiet days where Heaven’s peace felt genuine and untouched by schemes or whispers of unrest.

You had been looking for Adam, searching the grand halls where he often spent his time in secluded contemplation or strategy.

Upon entering his quarters you stumbled upon a series of records and texts you hadn’t seen before—drawings, schematics, plans filled with the details of an endeavor you could hardly comprehend at first.

Shock locked you in place as your eyes darted over the pages, the full picture beginning to take shape.

Adam was planning to eradicate all of Hell in a brutal purge. His intentions scrawled out plainly with plans to make it a bi-annual devastation.

His motivations seemed focused—almost obsessive: he desire to destroy Lucifer for corrupting both his wives and damning humanity to sin.

The righteousness of it felt  sinister in a way that clashed with everything Heaven should represent.

It was the sound of footsteps that pulled you from your horrified trance. You look up, catching Adam’s steely gaze as he entered the room.

He stilled, his eyes narrowing as his lips twist into a brief condescending smile before disappearing just as quick. “Eavesdropping now are we?”

“What...is all of this?” your voice shaky but resolute. There was no hiding your distress nor the raw betrayal evident in your tone.

He watched you carefully, his silence stretched painfully long with each passing second drawing his gaze sharper.

“It’s necessary,” he finally replied, each word precise and calculated. “You of all people should understand that.”

You shook your head with disbelief flashing in your eyes. “Necessary? Adam you’re talking about genocide. A-an endless cycle of destruction! How can you say this is the right thing?”

His expression darkened.

“This is for the greater good. Lucifer’s actions have damned humanity, cast shadows over Heaven itself.” Irritation seeped into his voice. “The world would be purer without his influence infecting it, without Hell festering beneath.”

The certainty in his tone left no room for negotiation and you felt the depth of the chasm between you.

You shook your head, taking a step back. “I can’t be a part of this Adam. I...I won’t.”

He watched you as a flicker of something like disappointment shined in his eyes, though it quickly cooled to an unnerving calm.

“Perhaps you’re just not seeing the full picture,” his voice smoothed as if he were offering comfort. “Meet me at our usual spot. I’ll explain everything. Trust me.”

There was a note of gentleness in his words, a familiar echo of the kindness you’d come to know.

Against the shadow of doubt that churned in your chest, you wanted to believe him. You wanted to think that somehow there was something you’d misunderstood.

And so you went to the place that had become yours over the years—a quiet grove within Heaven’s gardens where the two of you spent your time together.

The serenity of it now felt almost mocking.

As you waited you searched for a sense of reassurance, for the feeling that this was all some awful misunderstanding.

That Adam would arrive, put a hand on your shoulder, and explain everything away.

But instead when Adam appeared, his presence felt cold—almost mechanical. There was no trace of the man who had once softened around you nor a lingering warmth in his gaze.

“Adam...” you began only for your words to die on your lips. He raised his hand, and suddenly you felt an unfamiliar pull.

It was as though gravity itself had turned against you. Your wings flared instinctively, but they were useless against the force drawing you downward.

Realization gripped you as you looked up; this wasn’t an explanation. This was a sentence.

Adam’s face was the last thing you saw before the Fall: a sharp tooth grin stretched across his lips.

He raised his hand in a mock salute, almost playful as if he were bidding farewell to an old friend rather than sending you into damnation.

That look—that chillingly gleeful expression was imprinted itself in your mind; searing a deep wound of betrayal that would never fully heal.

Your voice caught in your throat, eyes wide with disbelief as you fell. He hadn’t wavered. Didn't hesitate.

The one who had been your confidante, who had once looked at you with something like love, has casted you down without so much as a flicker of remorse.

Tears escaped and scattered into the wind around you. Just as Heaven faded from sight, darkness fully enveloped you and your world went black.

.*.·:·.☽✧✧☾.·:·.*

You plummet from Heaven like a comet; a streak of searing light tearing through the thick red skies of Hell.

Your form was enveloped in flames as you crashed down with a force that made the very ground tremble.

The impact was like a small explosion—flames erupting, leaving a crater scorched and steaming as debris scattered for yards around.

Slowly you regained consciousness, faint prickles of pain tingling at the edges of your senses.

Your entire body felt heavy. Every inch of your body throbbed with the reminder that you’d been ̶b̶̶e̶̶t̶̶r̶̶a̶̶y̶̶e̶̶d̶ casted down by the very person you trusted most.

Suddenly, you feel warmth pressing against your cheek. You blink, finding yourself face-to-face with a strange malformed creature—a bird if you could call it that.

It had way too many eyes that blinked in eerie unison with a beak far too sharp as it pecked at your face.

You instinctively swat it away with more force than you intended. The creature squawked in protest before flapping its leathery wings and vanishing into the smoky distance.

Looking around you find yourself lying in the center of a deep crater as steam rose from the ground. For a second your mind struggled to reconcile where you were.

Then realization crept in slowly along with a numb sort of disbelief. Hell. You were in Hell.

As you shifted to sit up, soft murmurs above made you snap your head upwards. There on the edges of the crater stood  gathering figures— Hell denizens that drawn to the commotion.

Sinners and demons, the curious and wicked souls damned to this place, they all watched you in curiosity.

That is until they caught sight of the faint remaining glow of your halo and pure white wings.

Their gazes turned alarmed before they scattered away in screeches and shrieks, stumbling and tripping over each other in their desperation to flee in the mistaken belief that your arrival was the start of an unexpected purge.

The silence that followed was almost jarring, leaving you alone in the crater as the echoes of their hurried footsteps faded into the distance.

Your body screamed in protest as you slowly rose to your feet.

You try to open your wings in attempt to take flight, but the moment you flexed them, a searing pain flared down your back making you clamp your wings shut with a wince.

It seems flying wasn't an option right now.

With painstaking effort you hobbled toward the crater’s edge, eyes fixed on the steep walls.

Your teeth grit from the pain when you reach out and grasped a jagged piece of rock jutting from the crater wall.

'Okay,' a grim look of determination cross your face. 'Guess I’ll have to do this the old-fashioned way.' 

.*.·:·.☽✧✧☾.·:·.*

With a weak but firm grip you grasped the edge of the crater, using every last ounce of strength to pull yourself up onto the cracked pavement.

A heaving gasp tore from your throat as you collapsed onto solid ground before scooting yourself away from the crater’s edge.

It had taken longer than you’d hoped, but you’d done it. You were out.

Lying back, you let your head fall against the pavement to stare up at the crimson-tinted sky above.

Clouds churned in dark ominous shades of red as a massive pentagram symbol loomed high above—it glowed sinisterly, slicing through the swirling clouds in sharp precise lines.

Hell’s “moon” hung beside it—a twisted scarred orb that looked as though it had been dragged from the depths of something far darker than night.

And even higher in the distance, just barely visible against the hellish skyline, was the faint shimmer of Heaven’s gate. A cruel and unreachable mirage.

You closed your eyes, letting out a long shuddering breath as you try to gather yourself before reluctantly forcing your exhausted body to move once more.

Just as you managed to stand a strange warmth flickered above your head. Your fingers reach up to touch your now sputtering halo.

The steady glow dimmed as it pulsed weakly—and before you could fully process it, the light extinguished altogether.

The once radiant halo fell and clattered to the ground with a hollow metallic ring.

You stared down at the cold dull metal lying lifelessly in the dust. Your legs buckled and you sank to your knees, reaching out with trembling fingers to pick it up.

The weight of it felt foreign now, devoid of the light and comfort it once radiated.

A sad hollow laugh bubbled up from your throat; a weak attempt to mask the sharp ache of loss.

“...and it was such a good reading light to use,” you murmured, voice barely a whisper.

The familiar warmth of Heaven was gone and replaced by an oppressive heat that clung to you as the air around filled with the bitter scent of sulfur.

The betrayal, the Fall, and now your halo—each piece hammered at your heart, leaving you grasping at the edges of your composure as the weight of this new reality pressed in on you.

Fortunately you didn’t have time to dwell on it for long. 

“Hello!” A voice cuts through the stillness.

Startled, you look up to see a young girl standing at the edge of the abandoned street, her bright eyes wide with wonder.

She was small, her long blonde hair cascading over her shoulders as she wore a frilly red dress that looked almost too pristine for a place like Hell

She moved before you could process her intentions, darting toward you with surprising speed.

You instinctively opened your arms, catching her as she flinged herself into your embrace with childlike trust.

Her weight was slight with a warmth to her that felt strangely comforting. She nestled against your side, tiny hands exploring your feathers as her eyes sparkled with awe.

“Oh wow!” she squealed, brushing her fingers lightly over the downy feathers of your wings that had unconsciously curled around her as if to shield her from the world. “Your wings are so pretty! They look kinda like my dad’s!”

You blinked, still processing the fact that a child was not only here in Hell but clinging to you like you were an old friend.

Her innocent curiosity and lack of fear threw you off guard. For a moment faint memories of the children you had in your human life resurfaced and a bittersweet warmth filled your chest.

“Who might you be little one?"

The girl looked up at you with a giggle, eyes wide with innocence. "My name's Charlie, Charlie Magne!"

You couldn't help but smile. She reminded you of them in a way—of the tenderness you’d once known.

"And why are you out here alone?” concern was heard in your words. It was dangerous even for a child who clearly belonged here.

“I just wanted to see if it was really an angel causing all the fuss. I overheard my dad talking about it and well...I got curious! So I snuck out and—bam! I found you!” She gave you a triumphant grin as if discovering you were her own special accomplishment.

“Your...dad?” you echo softly causing her to frantically nod.

“Charlotte!” A booming voice calls out sending a shiver down your spine. Charlie looked over her shoulder, her eyes lighting up even more.

“Oh! There he is!” she chirped. Wriggling out of your arms, she hops down and began waving enthusiastically in the direction of the voice. "Over here!”

You quickly got to your feet, bracing yourself as you saw him: Lucifer Morningstar—The King of Hell himself striding down the street with an air of authority.

His softened gaze was locked on Charlie as she ran to him. But the moment she pointed back at you and exclaimed, “Look Daddy! I made a new friend!” his expression shifted.

The smile he’d given her vanished and was replaced by something far darker. In a flash he was in front of you, his crimson eyes piercing through you like twin blades.

You barely blinked before you were slammed to the ground.

The impact stole the air from your lungs, you were left gasping as his weight pressed down on you, a foot planted firmly on your chest.

Charlie's pleads of Daddy stop! seemed distant, almost muffled as you struggled to catch your breath.

'Geez...What s up with this family and tackling?'

Your dry thought is interrupted by the cold bite of metal on your throat. The sharp blade is pressed against the skin of your neck making you give a wide-eye stare up at the man towering over you.

His expression hard and unforgiving with an air of suspicion around him.

"Who sent you to the land of the Damned?" 

[sensualnoiree]

Aries:

Key Themes: New Beginnings, Initiative & Action, Cardinal Fire Sign, Leadership, Vibrancy & Vitality, Boldness & Courage, Sudden Bursts of Power, Spontaneity, Quick Decision Making, Spark of Inspiration, Pioneering, Risk-Taking, Passion & Enthusiasm, Empowering Energy.

Symbolism & Archetype: Aries embodies the essence of the "pioneer" and "warrior." It signifies the spark of life and the birth of new cycles. The assertive and action-oriented nature of Aries is linked to its role as the first sign of the zodiac, where the journey begins. As a Cardinal Fire sign, Aries initiates action with a fiery zeal, often acting as a trailblazer in any situation.

Esoteric Perspective: The mantra "I come forth, and from the Plane of Mind I rule" encapsulates Aries' journey of self-realization and mastery of will. Aries is where divine ideas are born, and its energy drives the manifestation of the divine will. The "Heart in the Head Lotus" represents the spiritual awakening and higher consciousness that Aries can achieve when aligned with its higher purpose.

Taurus:

Key Themes: Fixed Earth Sign, Venus Ruled, Grounded & Stable, Appreciation for Nature, Enduring, Stubbornness & Reliability, Cultivation of Taste, Value for Quality, Slow & Steady Rhythm, Resistance to Change.

Symbolism & Archetype: Taurus is the "builder" and "preserver," embodying the energy of stability and endurance. As the Fixed Earth sign, Taurus is connected to the physical realm, emphasizing the importance of security, material wealth, and sensual pleasures. The bull symbolizes strength, patience, and a deep connection to the earth.

Esoteric Perspective: The phrase "I SEE, and when the eye is opened, all is illumined" reflects Taurus' journey toward spiritual illumination through the material world. Taurus is associated with desire, but this desire evolves into a drive for spiritual beauty and the synthesis of the divine within the physical form. The "penetrating Light of the Path" signifies Taurus' role in revealing the hidden mysteries of the heart.

Gemini:

Key Themes: Quick Learners, Social & Charming, Mercury Ruled, Communication, Intellect, Curiosity, Versatility, Adaptability, Dynamic & Changing Energy, Love of Learning.

Symbolism & Archetype: Gemini is the "communicator" and "trickster," representing the duality of mind and the flow of information. As a Mutable Air sign, Gemini is associated with the exchange of ideas, quick thinking, and adaptability. The twins symbolize the dual nature of Gemini, constantly exploring both sides of every situation.

Esoteric Perspective: The mantra "I recognize my other self and in the waning of that self I grow and glow" speaks to Gemini's journey of integrating the higher and lower selves. Gemini's energy is about relating and connecting, overcoming the illusion of separation. It is linked to the heart of the Sun, symbolizing the central role of communication and connection in the sustenance of life.

Cancer:

Key Themes: The Crab, Intuitive & Sensitive, Moon Ruled, Emotional Sensitivity, Nurturing & Protective, Strong Attachment to Home & Family, Sentimental & Nostalgic.

Symbolism & Archetype: Cancer is the "nurturer" and "caretaker," embodying the energy of emotional depth and protection. As a Cardinal Water sign, Cancer is associated with the nurturing of life, whether it be through family, home, or emotional bonds. The crab symbolizes protection, retreat, and the cyclical nature of life.

Esoteric Perspective: The phrase "I build a lighted house and therein dwell" reflects Cancer's journey of creating a safe and sacred space for the soul. Cancer is where the light of the soul begins to shine within the form, illuminating the path of life. The sign is associated with the breath of life, signifying the connection between spirit, soul, and form.

Leo:

Key Themes: Fixed Fire Sign, The Sun, Leadership, Radiant Personality, Attention-Seeking, Bold, Creative, Passionate, Loyalty & Stability, Devoted in Relationships, Heart Chakra & Compassion.

Symbolism & Archetype: Leo is the "king" and "hero," representing the power of self-expression and leadership. As a Fixed Fire sign, Leo embodies the energy of creativity, confidence, and vitality. The lion symbolizes strength, nobility, and the desire to shine.

Esoteric Perspective: The mantra "I am That, and That Am I" reflects Leo's journey toward self-realization and spiritual mastery. Leo's energy is about illuminating the self and others, leading with the heart, and achieving self-mastery. The "will-to-rule and to dominate" signifies Leo's potential for self-control and the conditioning of the environment in alignment with the divine plan.

Virgo:

Key Themes: Mutable Earth Sign, Mercury Ruled, Attention to Detail & Discernment, Analytical, Practical, Connection to Digestion & Assimilation, Preparation for Judgment & Equinox, Diligence & Service.

Symbolism & Archetype: Virgo is the "healer" and "analyst," embodying the energy of service, organization, and purification. As a Mutable Earth sign, Virgo is associated with the practical application of knowledge, meticulous attention to detail, and the cultivation of order. The goddess Demeter symbolizes the nurturing and harvesting aspects of Virgo.

Esoteric Perspective: The phrase "I Am the Mother and the Child; I God - I Matter, Am" reflects Virgo's journey of integrating the spiritual and material worlds. Virgo's energy is about nurturing the divine potential within the material world, preparing for the revelation of the hidden spiritual reality. The sign is associated with the nurturing force of substance itself.

Libra:

Key Themes: Cardinal Air Sign, Venus Ruled, Balance & Weighing, Harmony & Fairness, Focus on Relationships & Social Harmony, Beauty, Art, & Aesthetics.

Symbolism & Archetype: Libra is the "diplomat" and "judge," embodying the energy of balance, harmony, and fairness. As a Cardinal Air sign, Libra is associated with the weighing of options, the pursuit of justice, and the importance of relationships. The scales symbolize equilibrium, duality, and the quest for fairness.

Esoteric Perspective: The mantra "I choose the way which leads between the two great lines of force" reflects Libra's journey of finding balance between opposing forces. Libra's energy is about achieving harmony between the soul and personality, creating a point of balance where spiritual opportunity arises. The sign is associated with the probationary path, where duality is known and choice is inevitable.

Scorpio:

Key Themes: Fixed Water Sign, Ruled by Mars, Intense, Mysterious, Deep Emotional Connections, Passion & Intensity, Resourceful, Strong Intuition, Power of Self-Transformation.

Symbolism & Archetype: Scorpio is the "transformer" and "warrior," embodying the energy of deep emotional intensity and the power of transformation. As a Fixed Water sign, Scorpio is associated with the exploration of the depths of the psyche, the confrontation of fears, and the process of rebirth. The scorpion symbolizes resilience, defense, and the ability to regenerate.

Esoteric Perspective: The mantra "Warrior am I and from the Battle I emerge Triumphant" reflects Scorpio's journey of inner transformation and spiritual triumph. Scorpio's energy is about the merging of the light of form, soul, and life, leading to the liberation of the soul from the lower worlds. The sign is associated with the trials and tests of the soul's journey, ultimately leading to triumph and liberation.

Sagittarius:

Key Themes: Mutable Fire Sign, Ruled by Jupiter, Outspoken, Adventurous, Philosophical, Freedom-Loving, Idealistic, Generous, Wanderlust, Spiritual Aspiration.

Symbolism & Archetype: Sagittarius is the "seeker" and "philosopher," embodying the energy of exploration, truth-seeking, and spiritual aspiration. As a Mutable Fire sign, Sagittarius is associated with the quest for knowledge, the pursuit of higher wisdom, and the desire for freedom. The archer symbolizes direction, focus, and the pursuit of lofty goals.

Esoteric Perspective: The mantra "I see the Goal. I reach that goal and then I see another" reflects Sagittarius' journey of continuous spiritual growth and expansion. Sagittarius' energy is about seeing the vision of the goal and directing one's course toward it, driven by an intuitive sense of direction. The sign is associated with idealism, spiritual aspiration, and the power to see beyond the present.

Capricorn:

Key Themes: Cardinal Earth Sign, Ruled by Saturn, Ambition & Persistence, Practical Applications, Duties & Responsibilities, Focus on Building Secure Structures & Financial Security, Connection to History & Ancestry.

Symbolism & Archetype: Capricorn is the "builder" and "strategist," embodying the energy of discipline, responsibility, and long-term achievement. As a Cardinal Earth sign, Capricorn is associated with the pursuit of goals, the importance of structure, and the mastery of the material world. The mountain goat symbolizes perseverance, ambition, and the climb to the top.

Esoteric Perspective: The phrase "Lost am I in light supernal, yet on that light I turn my back" reflects Capricorn's journey of achieving spiritual enlightenment and the responsibility of turning back to serve humanity. Capricorn's energy is about balancing the light of the personality and the soul, leading to the experience of the mountain top, where spiritual initiation takes place. The sign is associated with the triumph of spiritual will over material limitations.

Aquarius:

Key Themes: Fixed Air Sign, Ruled by Uranus, Humanitarianism, Idealism, Connection to Higher Thought & Collective Ideals, Social Reformer, Emphasis on Friendship & Community.

Symbolism & Archetype: Aquarius is the "visionary" and "reformer," embodying the energy of innovation, idealism, and the collective consciousness. As a Fixed Air sign, Aquarius is associated with the pursuit of knowledge, the importance of social connections, and the drive to create a better future for all. The water bearer symbolizes the pouring forth of knowledge and wisdom to humanity.

Esoteric Perspective: The phrase "Water of Life am I, poured forth for thirsty men" reflects Aquarius' journey of serving humanity through the dissemination of spiritual knowledge and the promotion of unity. Aquarius' energy is about the realization of the oneness of all life and the importance of the collective good. The sign is associated with the awakening of spiritual consciousness and the unfolding of the plan for humanity.

Pisces:

Key Themes: Mutable Water Sign, Ruled by Neptune, Compassion & Empathy, Connection to the Subconscious & Dreams, Intuition, Spiritual Awareness, Sacrifice & Service, Boundlessness & Unity.

Symbolism & Archetype: Pisces is the "mystic" and "dreamer," embodying the energy of compassion, empathy, and spiritual transcendence. As a Mutable Water sign, Pisces is associated with the dissolution of boundaries, the exploration of the subconscious, and the connection to the divine. The fish symbolizes fluidity, the connection to the ocean of consciousness, and the ability to navigate the depths of the soul.

Esoteric Perspective: The phrase "I leave the Father’s Home and turning back, I save" reflects Pisces' journey of self-sacrifice and spiritual service. Pisces' energy is about the realization of unity with all life and the willingness to serve the collective through selflessness and compassion. The sign is associated with the completion of the soul's journey, leading to spiritual liberation and the merging with the divine.

follow for more astro insights like this and head on over to @quenysefields or my etsy --> sensualnoiree to grab my new astrology guidebook on reading your own natal chart :)

[2cupids]

𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃𝐍’𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐈𝐓 | 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐢𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐣𝐣𝐤 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐜𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐟!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 — 4.1k+

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 — angst, spoilers (ch. 30, 90, 111, & 120), pet names, character death, reader finds out she’s pregnant (he already knows though 😭), other characters are mentioned, he interacts with her from afterlife.

he knows it, that his life is coming to an end.

his fight with the cursed spirit jogo left him badly injured with half his body burned, and the damage done is far beyond repair, even for someone like shoko. the pain radiating throughout his entire body is excruciating, and he’s tired. so tired. all he wants to do is sit down and rest, close his eyes and leave this unfair world behind, but he can’t just yet. he has to keep pushing onwards, there are still so many transfigured humans and cursed spirits to exorcize and kill.

does he have to keep going? the short answer is no. 

he’s not even particularly fond of this job in the first place, but since he chose this line of work, it’s his obligation to see it through.

on top of that, with gojo being sealed away in the prison realm and all, that puts the burden on a lot of the younger sorcerers. in his eyes, children shouldn’t have to bear such a heavy load, especially since they’ll have to go against higher grade curses that are out of their league that they have no business dealing with. as long as he’s still there and is able to fight, he’s going to do everything in his power to keep that from happening. or at least lessen the amount they have to exorcize.

walking down the desolate underground tunnels of shibuya station feels eerie, the blood stained walls being a haunting reminder of just how much evil kenjaku has unleashed in such a short period of time. he doesn’t hesitate to exorcize anything that crosses his path that has no place in this world during his descent towards the lower level of the station.

though everytime he lifts his undamaged arm to wield his blade and kill another monster it hurts terribly. most people wouldn’t have even survived what he did, sustaining third and fourth degree burns over half their body, but nanami is strong. his strength coupled with his willpower to kill as many monsters as he can before his body ultimately shuts down is what drives him. 

in the distance, he can hear the moans and groans of what he believes to be transfigured humans, and it sounds like a lot of them. he could turn around now and let his students and fellow sorcerers handle the rest of this, while he goes to a nearby hospital and lets them fix him up to the best of their ability before returning back home to you, but he can’t bring himself to do something as selfish as that. 

he’s going to die tonight, there’s no doubt in his mind about it. the uncertainty of not knowing what waits for him in the afterlife isn’t what worries him, it’s knowing he has to leave you behind.

miles away in another district, you sit by yourself on the big, leather couch in the living room of you and kento’s house. the movie you put on to pass the time as you wait for your fiancé to finish his late night mission is boring you, and although you try to stay awake, you find yourself nodding off every so often. the minutes on the clock feel like they’re passing by agonizingly slow and you want nothing more than to feel the strong embrace of nanami’s arms wrapped around you once again. 

speaking of which, shouldn’t he be on his way back soon?

no sooner than the thought crosses your mind does the soft buzzing and the light emitting from your phone screen on the cushion beside you catch your attention and you eagerly rush to pick it up. you take a minute to admire the poster picture you set for nanami, the picture being the time he let you wash and braid his hair, and you smile. you couldn’t ask for a better man. 

you don’t want to keep him waiting though, so you tear your eyes away from the photo and clear your throat before hitting the button to answer the phone.

“ken! have you left work? are you on your way back yet?!” your bright, cheery voice would usually cause a big grin spread across nanami’s face, but this time a sorrowful smile is plastered on his face instead.

he won’t be coming. 

nanami softly chuckles, focusing on ways to keep his voice neutral and calm before he speaks so you can’t sense the fear, devastation, anger, and every other emotion he feels as he talks to his precious girl for the last time. “no…”, nanami hesitates, thinking of a way to put it, but there’s really no easy way to say it. “i won’t be coming home tonight.” he sighs.

your smile fades and turns into a slight frown. “oh.. what’s going on in shibuya is really that bad?” you ask, playing with the hem of one of his shirts that you’ve stolen.

“yes. it’s bigger than any of us expected. i’m so sorry, sweetheart.” another long pause follows and your heart begins to race, there’s something else he’s not telling you. 

kento has never been a man who hesitates or has trouble finding the right words. in all the years you’ve known him, he’s never been one to beat around the bush, he’s always been straightforward and direct. for him to have trouble finding the words and not knowing what to say is unheard of, and it worries you.

“baby, what’s wrong? what aren’t you telling me? and why are apologizing, it’s not your fault.”

nanami remains quiet for the next few seconds as he looks for the courage to tell you everything, that this is the last time you’ll hear his voice.

“i don’t think i’ll be returning home.. ever.” and that’s when his voice cracks, uttering the words that no jujutsu sorcerer ever wants to tell their family or their partner. at least he has the chance to say goodbye though, some sorcerers aren’t even that lucky.

“i need to stay in shibuya to fight. i love you, more than you’ll ever know, and i hope you find it in your heart to forgive me.”

your mind goes blank. did you really hear what you think you heard? did nanami really just say what you think he did?

you stay silent on the other end of the phone, not sure what to say. “ken.. what are you saying? what do you mean you won’t be back?!” you laugh in disbelief as your eyes begin to water.

the world you created with kento is starting to shatter around you.

“you’re the best thing that ever happened to me, you know? i’m blessed to have been able to spend these past years with you. thank you for opening yourself up to me and allowing me to be able to share your life with you. i’m sorry i have to leave you so soon. i planned on spending the rest of my life with you. i wanted to grow old with you”

hot tears flow out of your eyes and stream down your face and chin where they fall and stain nanami’s shirt. some manage to seep into the corners of your mouth, their salty taste colliding with your taste buds. you’ve never noticed how salty tears really are until now.

you cover your mouth with your hand to mask the flood of sobs coming from you, but it’s not going to take long before your cries grow far too loud to be masked.

“i knew i should’ve left this damn job sooner.” nanami’s brows draw together in anger and frustration at himself for having to place you in such a position. “i never planned on doing this forever. it’s dangerous and i planned to leave when i found the right person, that person being you, but i didn’t leave soon enough. now look where it got me. i’m so sorry, you don’t deserve this.”

“nanami please stop.” denial is hitting you hard, there’s no way this can be real. you can still vividly recall the warm spring afternoon a few months ago when he got down on one knee and proposed to you. that was the day that sealed your fate, you were going to be with this man for the rest of your life. 

now he’s suddenly being taken away from you.

could this be some sort of sick joke someone put him up to? no, even as much as you wish it was, you know it’s not. kento would never do something as cruel as this to you, much less let another person put him up to it.

“you have all my passwords to any documents you might need to access, if there’s anything you can’t find, it’ll be in the top drawer of the desk in the office, don’t forget that, okay? you have the numbers to my bank account and cards, but it shouldn’t take life insurance long to pay out.”

“this isn’t funny, stop it.” by this point you’re violently sobbing and your eyes are getting redder by the minute. nothing feels real anymore. the thud of your heart pounding in your chest fills your ears, and you think it might just explode any time now. a single tear rolls down nanami’s face, then another one follows, and another until he’s crying with you.

he inhales, taking a shaky breath and trying to regain his composure, but fails. “you remember when we were planning to have our honeymoon in malaysia? i want you to still go. do you understand? do it for me, okay love?” 

the wails that exit your mouth are gut-wrenching. each one sounds like it’s filled with more heartache than the previous one as they increase in volume as they echo through nanami’s side of the phone. he has to physically take the phone away from his ear, but even as he holds the phone down next to his thigh your loud cries can still be heard.

you don’t have to say it because the anguish in your cries speak for themself, telling kento “don’t leave me.” it breaks his heart, he would do anything to prevent having to hurt you like this but it’s too late now. he wipes away his tears with the back of his fully fleshed hand before bringing his phone back up to his ear to speak.

“you can throw away my books in the office, or you can read them and keep them if you want. i know you don’t really care much about that kind of stuff anyways though,” nanami laughs lightheartedly. a sharp pain tears through his chest and he silently winces at the pain something as small as laughing causes him. but that’s okay, he’ll only have to endure the pain a little while longer.

“i have one more thing to tell you before i have to go.”

you don’t catch what he said, your weeping drowns his voice out, only catching his words here and there. yet, you don’t miss the sternness of his voice calling your name, and you subconsciously quiet down a little.

“listen to me. i want you to be happy. don’t live your life constantly thinking of me and what could have been. do you understand?”

you open your mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. silence follows on your end now. 

“answer me. do you think you can do that for me?” nanami asks, remnants of his authoritative tone seeping through.

a small, almost inaudible “yes”, croaks from your throat, accompanied by more sobs. 

“find a new partner, love again, start a new family. i want to see you flourish, darling. just..” nanami lets out a sigh before he continues. “just make sure the guy treats you right, or he’ll have to deal with the ghost of your ex. i can still beat his ass as a ghost. oh, and do all the things you want to do. you’re special, and i know you’ll succeed in whatever you choose.”

“kento don’t leave me! please don’t leave me! i don’t want anyone else!” you tightly clutch his shirt that you’re wearing as you beg and plead with him not to leave you. he wishes he could come give you one last hug, or a kiss before he leaves, but he has a job to finish. 

“whatever you choose to do, be happy. do what brings you joy, pretty girl. you won’t be able to see me, but i’ll always be there right next to you, supporting you. you’ll feel my presence and know i’m there. don’t come over here joining me too soon either, okay baby?” 

nanami debates on whether to mention this or not, but he decides it’s best to, he doesn’t want you to think he died without knowing. “my baby girl is gonna be as pretty as her mother. don’t you worry about a thing, everything is gonna be fine. i love you.”

his words come in one ear and out the other, it’s like you hear him, but you’re really not grasping his words. you’re trying to force your voice out to say something else and you’re finally able to. “ken? nanami?!” it’s too late now though, he’s already hung up and you find that out once you take the phone away from your ear.

on the other side of the city, nanami slips his phone back into his pocket after trying to send you a video. the reception has suddenly gotten bad down there and he tried multiple times to send it, but it’s taking forever to send, so he can only pray that it reaches you somehow.

the facade he put on and maintained fairly well while talking to you of being calm and collected, was his way to try to make his death not as hard on you. he’s found peace in knowing his time is almost up and he hopes that can help as you come to terms later. 

now, reality is crashing down on him once again and he tilts his head back, slowly closing his eyes as more tears rush out. memories run through his mind of all the times he’s shared with you; good times and bad times, intimate and playful ones, happy and sad ones. why does he have to leave? he’s finally happy for once in his life and now he has to leave the most important person in his life behind for a shitty, unfair job?

nanami catches himself, he can’t think like this. he can’t die with regrets or bad thoughts, so he chooses to simply be thankful for all the wonderful memories he was able to share with you and that he gets to reminisce over during his final moments. although he won’t be able to physically see his daughter grow up, he’ll be watching from above.

he takes a moment to collect himself then continues walking down the dark tunnel, the echo of his footsteps bouncing off the walls being the only sound to be heard until he reaches the end. nanami turns and walks down the stairs, immediately being met with multiple transfigured humans just like he thought. his grip on his weapon tightens and he gets a running start at the monsters, catching them by surprise.

they surround him within seconds and with his blade, he slashes through as many at one time as he can, all while dodging attacks from the others he has yet to kill. 

nanami is so tired. it feels like his body will give out on him at any second. he just wants to rest. with each transfigured human he slices through, the image of him walking down the beach with the sun beaming down on his face gets clearer and clearer. it won’t be much longer now.

he tries to catch his breath as he watches the last and final monster fall to the ground. he lets the dull blade slip out of his hand and drops to his knees. suddenly he feels a cold hand on his shoulder and his eyes shoot open. “good job, i didn’t expect you to finish them all off,” a cocky voice says from behind him. 

mahito. 

nanami would be able to tell that voice from anywhere. the cursed spirit, mahito, is one he’s had multiple encounters with, the one worst being when he got trapped in the cursed spirits domain and nearly died. 

they say the third time’s charm and in this case it is. under normal circumstances it wouldn’t take a single touch from mahito for him to be able to transfigure nanami’s soul, but because he’s so badly injured and weak, this one touch is all it takes.

the footsteps of a person running can be heard, the sound of their feet getting closer by the second until the person reaches the stairs. the person rounds the corner and is met with a heartbreaking sight.

“n-nanamin?” the voice calls out.

it’s yuji.

there’s nothing kentoi can do to prevent the child from witnessing his death. he feels horrible. yuji is about to see his mentor die right before his eyes and nanami isn’t sure how it will affect him, hell it might even scar the poor boy for life. the only thing he can do is give yuji some encouraging last words. nanami turns the uncharred side of his head towards yuji and smiles. “itadori, please have ino take my belongings back to my wife. will you take it from here? i know you can handle it, you’re strong.”

a wave of calmness and peace washes over nanami as he closes his eyes. a bright light surrounds him and his old friend, yu haibara, from high school emerges from it, extending his hand out to nanami as he makes the transition to the other side. “welcome friend, what are you doing over here so soon?”

those are the last words that leave nanami’s mouth before his upper body explodes into pieces as mahito stands and happily watches. 

the horrific scene will forever be engraved into yuji’s mind.

an indescribable feeling rushes over you, one that’s unfamiliar. you’re not sure what it is, but you don’t ever want to sense that feeling again. it’s the moment you realize your everything is gone.

the night sky shines less bright as the light from a dying star burns until it flickers out completely. nanami kento is dead.

you’ve lost count of how many days have passed since kento left you. the days have started to run together and everything’s been a blur, you can barely even remember your own name.

you often find yourself staring at his blood stained watch that lays on the coffee table, one of a few items that ino personally returned to you; kento’s watch, his weapon, and his phone.

the playback of past events involving kento are constantly unfolding in front of you. when you look at the front door, you can see him coming home from a long day at work, undoing his tie and taking his shoes off. sometimes you see him in the kitchen wearing the apron you bought him. or when you pass by his office, you can see him sitting in his chair with a book in his hand. everytime you see him, he’s always see-through, it's never like it’s actually him in the flesh, and you’re not really sure what to think. you know it’s probably your mind’s way of coping and it doesn’t frighten you, but you’re not sure if it’s doing more harm than good.

students from jujutsu high and other sorcerers have both stopped by to try to comfort you in your time of grieving, including nanami’s favorite student, ino, who shares candid memories of nanami. you truly appreciate them, you really do, but unless any of them could bring nanami back, you would rather just be left alone to mourn.

more days pass and you notice your period has yet to come and that you don’t have much of an appetite, but you don’t pay it much attention, attributing it to being everything you’ve been going through the past few weeks. for some reason, you accidentally let it slip out during a conversation with shoko and she suggests you go to the doctor. you’re reluctant at first, believing it’s just late and it’ll come back sooner or later once your emotions are back in line, but you trust her and take her up on her advice. 

the next day, ijichi drives you to your doctor and you explain the situation very briefly. they perform some bloodwork and run a few tests on you, one of which is a pregnancy test that you find completely unnecessary and silly, but you do what needs to be done for the sake of this to all be over with.

the results come back particularly fast for the pregnancy test and the doctor tells you you’re expecting. 

expecting..? expecting what?

you must have not heard right, so you ask her to repeat it. “you’re pregnant, there’s a fetus inside you. i’m very sorry about the timing, but congratulations.” tears start to fall and the doctor sits a box of tissues down beside you as she softly pats you on the back.

the car ride back to the house is quiet like usual. except this time it’s quiet for a different reason as thoughts, worries, and questions invade your brain. ijichi helps you out of the car and you thank him for the ride. you slowly make your way up the steps to the house, still not believing you’re going to be a mother. you clumsily fumble with the keys to unlock the door, and take your shoes off before you walk into the kitchen and lean against the counter with a hand on your tummy.

how are you going to take care of a baby by yourself?

your vision becomes blurry with tears, which isn’t out of the ordinary considering everything that has happened these past few weeks. this was nanami’s dream, to start a family. you close your eyes and let the waterworks flow. all kinds of different emotions rush through your body as you cry for the life he won’t get to experience.

your phone buzzes and you wipe your tears before taking it out of your purse, not bothering to check the notification screen to see who or what it came from. instead, you open your messages to tell shoko the news when you notice a blue dot next to someone’s contact, you have an unopened message.

when you glance up at the sender’s name, it’s no other than nanami. you check the time and the date and see it was sent a few minutes ago, that must’ve been the reason your phone went off. 

but he’s been dead for what, two weeks now? how is that even possible? you turn your attention over to the coffee table where his phone also lays with the other items ino gave you. you haven’t been able to bring yourself to charge his phone and it’s been dead for close to two weeks as well. all the more reason this gives you chills.

you’re not sure whether to open the message and view the attachment or not. what will you find? your curiosity outweighs everything else, plus it’s supposedly from kento, it can’t be anything bad.

you open the message and it’s a video. you turn your volume up and press play. nanami comes into frame and begins to talk, “hi baby, i just wanted to say i love you. i want you to listen to this whenever you feel lonely. and you’re going to be a great mommy to our daughter.” then the video ends. his hair is down, he looks tired, and he has a few scratches on his face but he still looks as handsome as ever. you notice he only shows one side of his face, but you don’t pay it any attention. you’re just glad you get to see one final image of him.

your fingers caress his face through the screen, and you smile. “i don’t know how i’ll do this without but–“, you instantly freeze. something just touched you.

there’s no other way to explain it, but it feels like a hand just softly pressed against your stomach. no one else is here, could you be going crazy? or could it possibly be…

“tell my baby girl all about me, okay mama?”

his voice. 

it was like he was right next to you. you quickly look up and turn your head to the side where the voice came from, but no one’s there of course.

nanami told you not to worry about anything, that he would always be with you. he’s a man that always stayed true to his word, and even in death he doesn’t change.

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 ❀ — this is my first time writing a full angst fic so if i had to suffer while writing this y’all have to suffer too 😭. but he’ll always be my man idgaf and gege will pay for killing him off. also let me know if you’d like me add which episodes the spoilers are in too and not just which chapters. feedback is appreciated as always!! thank you for reading mwah.

[barbieaemond]

The King of Qarth (sneak peek)

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Qartheen f!reader (use of she/her)

Warnings: angst, mentions of sexual abuse, child bride, smut, some bondage, knife kink, breeding kink (more to be added)

Author’s note: purely based on this vibe. To be posted next week.

Taglist: @zae5 @succnfucubus @arcielee @multyfangirl @credulouskhaleesi @bunbunbl0gs

“Wife, may I introduce you to our noble guest?”

A woman comes forward to greet him when Aemond enters a lavish hall with several windows adorned with colorful drapes of silk. He is sure he has never seen so much marble in his life, feeling even more inappropriate given the state of his clothes and his whole demeanor, shamefully far from the clean, soldierly appearance that left mouth agape.

“Prince Aemond of House Targaryen, from Westeros.” The Salt King declares as the woman stops just before him. The Prince stands tall and imposing, no matter the misery of his shabby clothes, the state of his dishevelled hair falling in silver tangles down his back. He’s still a Targaryen, his chin is high and proud.

“More like from Old Valyria.” She says raising an eyebrow, and sizing him up and down. “He seems to have just emerged from the Doom, miraculously unscathed.”

The Prince does nothing but seethe his teeth behind his dry lips, a distant shame in his eye that quickly turns into a focused and unblinking rage.

“Welcome to Qarth, my Prince. I’d trust your journey was uneventful but…I can see the Red Waste takes its toll, even on Valyrian beauty.”

Aemond takes a good, long look at her, inevitably lingering on her chest, dressed as the common Qartheen fashion dictates: one breast exposed. But a lot more of her is exposed. Her shoulders, her arms and legs, a glimpse of her hips, all crossed by swirling bundles of lilac silk.

If any married woman in Westeros dressed like that in the open, he’s sure any husband would lock her up. At least he would.

“You must excuse my wife, Prince Aemond, or rather, get used to her habit of speaking her mind.”

“Come now, Xavos. Surely Westerosi women can voice their thoughts?” she moves, walking past Aemond and her husband to reach a small table inlaid with gold to pour some greenish beverage into a cup. “I had a maid once, she was from…Rich Garden?”

“High Garden.” Aemond sternly corrects her.

“Ah, yes. A delightful creature, always smelled so good.” She says distractedly “Anyway, she fled from your lands because she liked girls and not boys and she didn’t want to devote her life to being a brood mare sucking a flaccid cock until her hair had gone white.”

Her maids snicker somewhere past Aemond shoulders, stiffening his posture at the liberties those commoners are granted. “I should hope you Westerners listen to your women more than you do your horses.”

Aemond watches as she takes a sip and laces his hands behind, slightly tilting his head for a moment. “Where I come from, women do not possess such a sharp tongue. Furthermore and fortunately, most of them have manners. They know how to address a Prince of the Realm.”

She turns to leave the cup on the same table and glances at Nyla. “Oh, he bites.”

“This is not Westeros, dragon prince.” She says turning to face him with a righteous smile “I don’t need to ask for your permission to speak. The Salt King is my husband, that is why you will hear my maids and everyone else address me as Your Highness. So, you may lower that chin and stop waiting for me to bow down to you because technically my rank is higher than yours. You might say the only one meant to bow in this room were you.”

The silence that follows is so stark that the air the Prince quickly exhales through his nose sounds like thunder, alerting the Salt King. "Come now, wife. Don't wake the beast.” he says lightly, stiffening a smile “And I mean it quite literally. You should see the size of Prince Aemond’s dragon.”

“I heard.” She acknowledges “Jorio said he’s higher than the city walls.”

“She. And twice, than your city walls.” The Prince corrects her again, just as sternly. “She’s the largest dragon alive in the known world.”  

His chin remains high and haughty, simply because he can. Because she knows he could raze the entire city to the ground just by snapping his fingers.

So, she looks down and says “Since you will be our guest, it is my duty as matron of this house to make you feel welcomed. If you would be so kind to follow me, your Grace.” She forces her tone to be as courteous as possible. But then she smiles. “Is my tongue acceptably sharp to your liking now?”

PART 1

[starsofteal]

A Lesson and Love

Halsin x Tav // Halsin x Reader (GN) Summary: An accident in the forest leads to an injured child and a rattled Tav—cue daddy Halsin to the rescue.  A/N: One of my favorite things to imagine are these little vignettes of life after the events of the game, when Halsin and Tav and all the children build a life for themselves in Thaniel’s realm. I love the idea of Tav coming into a more parental role after a life of high adventure, and how out of their depth they feel, especially when it appears to come to naturally to Halsin. And, of course, I’m a sucker for Daddy Halsin just as a concept.   Warnings: broken arm (not graphic), fluff (is it hurt/comfort if it’s just physical pain and not emotional angst lol?) 

The sun filters through the tree canopy of the forest just outside Moonrise Towers. The echoes of children’s laughter surrounds you as you relax against a sturdy tree trunk, catching your breath. 

You had coaxed the children into their favorite game of chase—not that it took much convincing on your part—in a desperate attempt to rid the children of as much energy as possible, hoping it would make for an easier bed time tonight—a foolish hope considering how endless their energy seemed to be these days. 

Not that you mind the extra energy. No, in fact, after everything you had been through, nothing brings you more joy than this life you’ve carved out for yourself: surrounded by children and their boisterous laughter, in a safe haven serving to provide hope and safety to all who need it, and then, of course, there’s Halsin. 

Halsin, who you had forged such a deep and lasting connection with over your journey, who shows you the true definition of love and selflessness every day. The love you had found with Halsin will always be the greatest treasure to come out of your ordeal. You’d go through it all a thousand times over again just to end up here, in Thaniel’s Realm, with Halsin, and all the many charges you gained along the way. 

The very charges who seemed determined to send you to an early grave. 

“Nathaniel, be careful!” You admonish from your spot on the forest floor. The young boy, hardly more than six, makes his way up an oak tree, climbing onto a limb with a carefree dexterity that could only come from a child who had been spending far too much time out in the forest with Halsin. 

“I am being careful,” Nathaniel quips back, slowly rising to his feet to grab onto an even higher branch and lifting himself up on it. 

“That’s high enough.” Your voice has a final note of warning in it as you rise to your feet. “Come down from there, now.” 

“Aww, that’s no fun.” Nathaniel pouts, but ultimately acquiesces, turning his body and kicking his feet over the edge of the branch to begin his decent. 

The accident unfolds before you as if in slow motion, but you’re utterly helpless to intervene; feet frozen in place. Nathaniel releases his grip, but his foot just barely misses the lower branch, sending him barreling towards the ground. Your heart stops. A sickening crunch sounds out as he hits the ground, arms out trying to break his fall. There’s a heartbeat of silence before Nathaniel’s wail pierces the air. 

You’re at his side in seconds, crouching low to the ground. The other children swarm in around you, their cries of concern and fear adding to the din.

“Back up, now please,” you order, not unkindly, assessing the damage in front of you while also trying to maintain an aura of calmness. A quick observation tells you that Nathaniel’s arm is definitely broken, the crunch you heard earlier serving as its own confirmation, but other than that, plus a few bumps and bruises, he seems okay. The relief is overwhelming. 

“Nathaniel, sweet, come here,” your voice has a soft, calming tone to it that seems to have an instantaneous effect. The small boy doesn’t need to be asked twice, scrambling into your lap and holding his injured arm close to his chest. You hold him close, pressing a kiss to his temple, as his cries quiet to low whimpers. 

“Cana and Ava,” you call out to the two eldest girls in the group. “I need you two to go find daddy Halsin, okay? Be quick, but be safe.” The pair nod eagerly before dashing off, and you send up a quick prayer to the Oak Father they hurry. 

The rest of the children watch on as you continue to soothe Nathaniel, rocking back and forth. More than a few are shedding sympathy tears, the rest in various shades of distress. 

“He’ll be okay,” you soothe the group. “But this is an important reason we have to follow rules, even when they’re not very fun. They’re there to help keep you safe.” A ripple of nods tells you they’ve more than learned the lesson and its one they won't be quick to forget.

“Go on,” you nod to the clearing, “go play. Daddy Halsin will be here soon.” 

The children reluctantly sulk back to the playing area, though their spirits are too down to continue the game of tag with the same ferocity. 

“You’re being very brave right now, Nathaniel,” you murmur, looking down at the child in your arms. He looks so small, and you feel your heart break in two. Nathaniel presses his head up against your chest and sniffs, wiping his nose on his tunic with his good shoulder. 

“I’m sorry I climbed up high,” he whimpers, fresh tears falling from his thick eyelashes. 

“Oh hush, hush, hush, none of that,” you refute. “The important thing is that you’re safe. A fall from not much higher could have been far worse. Daddy Halsin will be here soon, okay? Just keep being brave, can you do that for me?” You feel Nathaniel’s nod against your chest, and you continue your rocking. 

Finally, you hear the thunder of footsteps running through the forest. You turn your head just as a large brown bear bursts into the clearing, two children atop its back. With practiced ease, they slide off, landing softly on the grass and joining the rest of the children who watch in awe as a burst of bright, magical light erupts. The bear disappears, Halsin standing in its place. 

“My heart, what happened? Are you okay?” Halsin’s eyes are wide with panic as he takes in the sight of you on the ground, Nathaniel curled around his injured arm in your lap.

At the sight of daddy Halsin, Nathaniel’s tears start up again with vigor. “Daddy Halsin,” he wails. “My arm.” His sobs wrack his tiny body, and you wrap gentle arms around him, starting your soothing rocking again. 

Halsin crouches low, getting on one knee. “Now, now, my little adventurer,” his voice is low and gentle. “Let me have a look.” 

Nathaniel leans back against you, carefully exposing the broken and swollen limb, a deep bruise already blooming across the surface. Halsin hums in acknowledgement as he examines the limb. 

“Hold very still for me,” he warns before closing his eyes and raising a hand sheathed in golden magic. His hand hovers above Nathaniel’s arm, causing Nathaniel to bury his head in your chest. “You’re doing such a good job,” you whisper to the boy, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead.

The glow of Halsin’s magic fades. “There, how does that feel?” 

Nathaniel perks his head up and gives his arm a tentative wiggle. “Wow,” he marvels, his eyes growing wide. “It doesn’t hurt anymore!” Jumping up off your lap, he throws both arms around Halsin’s neck. “Thank you daddy Halsin!” 

Halsin’s strong arms wrap around the child, and the sight nearly brings tears to your eyes. “Of course, my boy,” he replies. “Try to be more careful now, promise?” 

“I will, I promise I will,” Nathaniel hastily replies, already wiggling out of Halsin’s arms and eagerly chasing off towards his adopted siblings. 

Halsin chuckles as he takes a seat next to you in the grass. 

“Well, he got over that quickly,” you joke, leaning into his side as he wraps a strong arm around your waist. 

“These children are strong, resilient. They’ve been through so much at such a young age. It’ll take more than a broken bone to keep them down, I’d wager.” 

You hum in agreement, absentmindedly picking at a few blades of grass. “Thank you for coming so quickly,” you murmur.

Halsin says nothing, just pulls you closer, holding you even tighter. “I’ll always be here, my heart.” His warm lips press against your temple. 

“You’re so good with them, Halsin. You always know what do to, how to act, what to say.” You can’t stop the sigh that escapes your lips, rustling the small pile of grass blades you’d compiled. 

Halsin’s brows furrow. “What is it, my heart?” 

“It’s nothing,” you attempt to shrug off his concern, but he knows you all too well. 

“Tell me what’s on your mind,” he urges. “Please.”

One look in those green eyes has you giving in. With another sigh, you pull your knees up to your chest, resting your chin atop them. You keep your eyes on the children playing ahead of you as you attempt to sparse apart your thoughts and feelings. 

“When Nathaniel fell, there was a moment where I just…” you pause, gathering your breath. “I just froze. I didn’t know what to do. I was terrified. And then I heard him cry and my heart broke into a thousand pieces. There was nothing I could do. I failed him.” You bury your face against your knees. 

Halsin nods his head in understanding, letting your words sit in the air for a moment before nudging you with his shoulder. “Would you like to hear my perspective?” 

You pause for a beat, before giving a slight shrug of your shoulders. 

"I saw you taking charge of the situation. Your fearless heart, your sharp mind, willing to do whatever it takes to take care of the people you care for. You’re relentless in the heat of the moment, whether it’s on the battlefield or here in our home. I saw Nathaniel in your arms; I saw you providing a sense of safety and comfort at a time when he was scared and in pain. You were everything he needed in that moment.”

Halsin’s words of confidence stir you and you raise your head up to look at him. 

“I was so scared,” your words are barely above a whisper, a confession. “After everything we’ve been through, I thought I was beyond ever being scared again. But he looked so small crumpled up on the ground.” 

“You’re not alone with those feelings, my love.” 

At that, you offer Halsin a quizzical expression. “You? I feel like fear isn’t even in your vocabulary.” 

“Me? A stranger to fear?” Halsin chuckles. “My heart, as soon as the girls told me there was an accident here in the forest…” He trails off, his voice taking on a somber pitch. “There aren’t words for the way my heart stopped.” 

You place a comforting hand against his arm, the thick bands of muscle briefly tensing and relaxing at your subtle encouragement.  

“I raced here as fast as I could. It wasn’t until I had you and the children in my sights that I felt I could finally breathe again.” 

Halsin covers your hand with his own, a soft smile on his face. “I think perhaps the drawback to living such an idyllic and wondrous life such as this, is that we have so much more to lose now than we ever had before. And there is a fear in that. But I know that this magnificent journey of ours is only just beginning. There is so much more joy to come.” With that final sentiment, Halsin presses a kiss to your forehead. The warmth of his lips against your skin radiates through your entire body, and you tilt your head up to meet his lips with your own. 

A chorus of “ewwws” and “yucks” erupts from the herd of children now gawking at the two of you, and Halsin doesn’t bother to hold back his howling laughter. 

“To be continued at a later time, my heart,” he murmurs in your ear before pressing another kiss to your cheek and rising to his feet to join the children in play. His grabs two of the closest children in his arms, lifting them up high off the ground. Their squeals of delight pierce the air, and the rest of the children clamber over one another for their own turn. 

You smile, leaning back against the oak tree, letting the warm rays of the setting sun graze your face, as you take in the beautiful view before you. 

[astra-ravana]

Augury: Bird Divination

Augury, also called ornithomancy, is the practice of reading birds and their behavior to divinate the past, present, and future. It is one of the oldest forms of divination, having been practiced by the ancient Greeks, Romans, and Egyptians, as well as the Celts and Native Americans alike. The reader in this case is referred to as the "augur", and reading the birds is often called "taking the auspices".

Birds are universally seen as messengers and sometimes, as psychopomps, connecting us to the other side and the divine. Augury incorporates the type of bird, the number of birds, as well as their flight patterns and behavior. One can gain powerful insight by incorporating this divination into their practice. Here's the interpretations for general types of bird, some basic movements, and more.

Bird type symbolism:

• Blue jay - Truth, communication, playful, high energy, loud

• Cardinal - Hope, joy, ancestors, loved ones, passion, warmth

• Crow - Magick, witches, transformation, power, omens, intelligence, mystery

• Dove - Peace, tranquility, love, connection, safety

• Duck - Friendship, good fortune, protection from negative energy

• Eagle - Power, leadership, freedom, manifestation, opportunity, adventure

• Falcon - Navigation, taking chances, travel, cooperation, courage, vigilance

• Goose - Love, partnership, home, protection, family

• Hawk - Spirit guides, bravery, awareness, intuition, instinct, higher perspective

• Heron - Strength, purity, longevity, knowledge, good judgment, transcendence, patience

• Hummingbird - The Fae, creativity, bliss, love, beauty, speed, rest is needed

• Kestrel - Consideration, stability, vitality, opportunities

• Owl - The gods, wisdom intuition, spiritual exploration, the unknown, observation, intelligence

• Raven - Mystery, magick, the Fae, knowledge, mischief, death

• Robin - Luck, prosperity, fertility, new beginnings, good things, rewards

• Sparrow - New love, relationships, team work, productivity

• Starling - Communication, adaptability, community, fun, freedom

• Stork - Longevity, fertility, new life, prosperity, wisdom, luck

• Swan - Grace, beauty, music, poetry, creativity, loyalty, partnership

• Vulture - Renewal, perception, creativity, death, patience

• Woodpecker - Hard work, advantage attention, progress, determination

Movement

Directions:

• Towards – Reception

• Away – Depletion

Crossing your path:

• An bird crossing your paths means boundaries.

• Crossing from left to right – Minor achievement

• Crossing from right to left – Minor obstacle

Diagonal:

• A movement diagonally means transformation.

• Lower right to upper left diagonal – Weak obstacle

• Lower left to upper right diagonal – Weak achievement

• Upper right to lower left diagonal – Major obstacle

• Upper left to lower right diagonal – Major achievement

Stationary:

• Stationary means foundation.

• Stationary front – Stability

• Stationary back – Stagnation

• Stationary left – Separation

• Stationary right – Unification

Rotation:

• Clockwise – Major completion

• Counterclockwise – Minor completion

Sides:

• Left - Bad

• Right - Good

Number of Birds:

• 1 - The self, beginnings, manifestation, physical action

• 2 - Security, partnership, balance, duality

• 3 - Adventure, communication, trinity, raising consciousness, strength

• 4 - Wisdom, stability, home, protection

• 5 - Change, creativity, romance, humor and drama

• 6 - Peace, self-love, equilibrium, health

• 7 - Psychic ability, intuition, spiritual awakening, soul mates

• 8 - Transformation, finances, infinite possibility, struggle/delay

• 9 - Lessons, education, courage, pioneering energy

• 10 - Completion, higher powers, alignment, legacy

• 11 - Good luck, wishes granted, new friends, joy

• 12 - Introspection, other realms, the dead, the shadow

Finding feathers:

• Gray – A time of peace is arriving

• White – Focus on your spirituality

• Black – You are protected

• Brown – Strength and courage

• Red – Find and use your spiritual gifts

• Orange – You will be successful

• Yellow – You are on the right path

• Green – Healing is coming

• Blue – Use your voice

• Purple – Expand your psychic abilities

• Pink – Love, romance, or pregnancy

• Striped – Change will happen soon

• Spotted – Release the past

[i-dare-say]

You know what I love about Binghe's character? His role in the story and the way it changes our perception of him through the narrative.

We first meet him as this poor boy and we, just like Shen Qingqiu, get swept by the image of the white lotus. He's a teenager, and we're told that at this age he didn't have any of the darkness that would reign over his life after the Abyss. We're only shown an obedient and sweet Luo Binghe. He is the "young and innocent protagonist".

But we know about his future. Shen Qingqiu tells us so many times that the Abyss will corrupt him irreversebly, that he will come back and take his revenge on the scum villain. The problem is that we see the story through Shen Qingqiu's point of view, he is our protagonist, making Binghe our villain. So we read about the disciple days with the constant thought that this boy will one day become the antagonist.

And see, there's a slight difference between villain and antagonist. A villain is perceived as someone with bad intentions, while an antagonist is just someone who opposes the protagonist.

When Luo Binghe comes back from the Abyss, he is both villain and antagonist. He goes against Shen Qingqiu (antagonist), and the story tells us he wants to kill him like the original PIDW (villain).

Then it's revealed that it may not be exactly like that. First, we're shown that Binghe has romantic feelings for Shen Qingqiu (which, yeah, it's obvious to everyone but him, but still), giving Binghe a new possible role in the story: love interest. This immediately reduces the perceived danger of his actions. It brings him closer, it makes him a safer character.

Yes, there are stories with villainous love interests that do horrible shit, but we're dealing with the most common way narratives treat this type of character: generally, the love interest is good. And so, the moment this role is put upon Luo Binghe by the narrative itself, it also influences the reader.

But Shen Qingqiu, and consequently we, don't lower our guard. Despite being the love interest now, we also know that Luo Binghe has conspired to take down his master and organized the sower plague. He's attacked Huan Hua Palace, killed Gongyi Xiao and many others, putting the blame on Shen Qingqiu. By the end of book 2 he's villain, antagonist and love interest.

But it all gets proven wrong. That almost everything that happened to Shen Qingqiu was not because of Luo Binghe. We discover that there are other villains in the shadows.

The sower plague and the the attack at Huan Hua Palace was caused by Tianlang-Jun and Zhuzhi-Lang. Qiu Haitang's involvement and Shen Qingqiu's imprisonment was one of the Old Palace Master's schemes. All of this destroys Binghe's role as villain and antagonist.

This is the moment Shen Qingqiu decides to trust Binghe, pushing the reader to do the same. Because he's just "love interest" now and by the standard conventions, he's good. We trust him to be. Shen Qingqiu himself starts to project onto him that same image of white lotus. Since our image of Luo Binghe was so bad previously, this makes it jump way higher. It lulls us into this much better perception of his character.

The Old Palace Master was a villain and he died, as villains are often destined to. The only obstacle remains Tianlang-Jun, who doesn't harm Shen Qingqiu because of Zhuzhi-Lang's wishes (not an antagonist), but also wants to merge the realms (villain).

So our protagonist and love interest move toward the action, the big battle against the final boss. The villains get defeated easily and after the truth of what happened to Su Xiyan, Tianlang-Jun gives up his plan. His role as villain ends there. But the story has more antagonists to reveal.

Luo Binghe has never stopped being one. The narrative only hid his real motivations and let him cover himself with the role of love interest. And at this moment, he drops the mask and lets all of his feelings out, everything he didn't tell Shen Qingqiu nor the readers. He becomes the final antagonist, the one we've had since the very beginning.

The thing that saves him is his status as love interest, because no, he's not the only one to blame for what is happening. There's Xin Mo, who has fed on his insecurities and negative feelings, and Shen Qingqiu himself. He is the one who has constantly pushed Binghe to the side, believing himself to do the right thing, first by giving Binghe his death and then by trying to keep him "protected" from his father.

In the end, Luo Binghe wasn't a villain. Shen Qingqiu was, and he dies. But since he's not a real villain, he's allowed to come back.

When everything is over, their story comes to an end. The narrative itself leaves them free, to be whoever they want to be.

[delopsia]

Thot for you.

You’re not sure how it started but you and Rhett figure out he rides best when he doesn’t come for a day or two before rides. He makes it far on the circuit so pretty soon it turns into a week or more and he’s a hot, needy mess. He wins (of course) and cries when he finally gets to come.

Eeek! I thought I answered this, but I must've forgotten to save my draft 😔

The way that this is like...Rhett's own personal heaven and hell, all at the same time. He's scoring higher than he ever has, consistently dominating the scoreboards and earning rounds upon rounds of applause, but also, he's losing his damn mind.

It was cute when the deal was, "No sex 48 hours before the rodeo." He could handle that. Between work and sleep, he hardly even noticed, but now the finals are creeping around the corner, and you haven't let him cum for nearly two and a half weeks now.

Rhett's never really thought of himself as being obsessed with sex or anything of that realm, but fuck, he can't quit thinking about it. Sits there rethinking his life choices when he wakes up hard in the morning, catches himself idly palming at the bulge in his jeans while he's resting in the pasture.

Everything is reminding him of the one thing that he wants, and you're. Not. Helping. Wearing those damned shorts that flatter your thighs, sitting in his lap, kissing his neck, innocently riling him up, and never doing anything about it.

Of course, he could succumb to the urge in his lower belly and touch himself, but he already knows that you'd figure it out if he did so. He's already in this deep. So he keeps clinging to that last thread of sanity until the moment he's climbed on the back of that multi-thousand-pound animal.

The rush of turning around and seeing his name jump up to the #1 slot was enough to distract him from it for an hour or two. Adrenaline and disbelief blind him from thinking about anything that isn't related to winning the rodeo.

You're not sure when he broke.

All you know is that you were stopping at the house to wash up before going back out to see his friends when, all of a sudden, he started fussing. Batting his pretty eyes at you, whining for his reward, so damn eager that he trips over his own words.

"I, I want...want—" He's cut short by your finger, pressing against his lips, big, dark eyes downright shimmering as he looks at you.

He's so pretty once you get him in bed. Unbuttoned flannel pooling at his sides, chest heaving, head rolling back and forth as your hand works him. Slow, tight strokes that pull noise after noise out of his throat, pitchy and broken apart by babbles of your name.

"Please, please, please!" He hiccups, squeezing his eyes shut, a stray tear rolling down his flushed cheek. "Wanna cum!"

"You can, dummy," you breathe. "You won, didn't you?"

His head bobs up and down with a nod. "Mhm."

You wish that you had brought a camera into the bedroom because the sight of his orgasm washing over him is one you never want to forget. Back arching off the bed, head thrashing as he cums with a sharp cry, grunting with every rope of cum that paints your hand.

It's one of those orgasms that take him a moment to come down from, and when he does, his bones have been replaced with jelly. Lazily blinking at you with that dumb, crooked smile, grumbling when you ask if he still wants to go out. It's probably the only rodeo night where he's asleep before 1AM, but come morning, he'll be waking you up bright and early for a round two, three, and four.

You hardly get anything productive done that week.

[a-d-nox]

web of wyrd: the left most number, your mask / public energy

wyrd (pronounced weird) is a germanic word that is associated with fate - so this is is not just "wyrd" - it's also uncannily your fate or destiny. this seems to be the new thing, so i too want to step in because the numbers are associated to the major arcana of tarot and i do read tarot sooooo - if the shoe fits wear it!

we are going to go number by number together - we are going to learn together!

click here to calculate yours!

today i want to address the left most number.

this is my wyrd web. so it is based on my birthdate (27.10.2000 - october 27th, 2000).

the number we are focusing on today is based on the DAY you were born.

if you were born july 4th - it would be 4. if you were born april 22nd - it was be 22. but any date after the 22nd (i.e. 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, etc) needs to be summed together (my birthday for example: 27 -> 2 + 7 = 9 (the number in my left most bubble))!

but what does this number mean?

this number represents how others see you. not necessarily how you see you, but how the public perceives you. this is your face (or mask - aka persona) that you intentionally or unintentionally present to the world! there at evolved (higher vibrations of the major arcana card or the upright) and un-evolved (lower vibrations of the major arcana card or the reversal) numbers.

so let's talk about some examples:

9 - the hermit

rider waite smith illustrated the hermit (the card that symbolizes virgo) as a wise, old man dressed in gray. he holds his walking stick (possibly alluding to the suit of wands (the symbol of fire / fire signs, passion, creativity, ambition, and action)) to his head (if it is the suit of wands than this indicates an individual with a creative, passionate mind who has used their ambition to discover more about themselves). he holds a lit lantern towards the left side of the card (the past) and faces that direction as well (indicating that knows himself well as the lantern is shining a light on his past).

evolved 9s explore / learn from their inner realm and work through their past instead of dwelling in it. these people appear as wise and self-knowing. they set boundaries with those around them in a mindful manner. they know when to take a break and recharge in a social setting as most tend to be introverts. they do a lot of soul searching as to what they are and are not comfortable with and express these things to those around them - they do the inner work or "shadow work" necessary to living a full and happy life.

un-evolved 9s may not recognize the difference between alone and lonely or even solitude and alone. they often fear being alone (they may not wish to learn who they are as an individual) and don't know how to take a moment when they need it. they snap or become to critical of those around them in these circumstances - ironically they are critical of everyone around them but haven't taken the time to critically examine themselves. they may conversely isolate from those around them despite longing for support and connections with others. they may fear getting to know who they themselves are.

20 - judgement

rider waite smith illustrated judgement (the card associated with pluto) as an angel facing the viewer (this is a confrontational, present-oriented card) from a clouded sky blowing (air motif) a trumpet as people emerge from their caskets to face the angel (their backs face the viewer meaning to show vulnerability). these nude people (natural and comfortably exposed) are freeing themselves from a previously uncomfortable, cramped situation in order to see and hear the heralding angel. these people are reaching arms open wide ready to receive the angel - this is a card associated with a spiritual awakening.

evolved 20s no longer judge themselves too severely; they are comfortable with their bodies and accepting of their previous actions, choices, and experiences. they too are ready to leave the previous confines of their past (as the nude people do in the card imagery). they welcome new experiences and the future with excitement and glee. they are on a high frequency as they recognize their higher calling. they receive frequent communication and confirm from the universe / their spirit team. they let go of the past to embrace the future.

un-evolved 20s experience the same things over and over again. they struggle to get out of loops/patterns as they struggle to learn the important lessons that life wishes them to. they judge themselves harshly and are extremely critical of the work they do. they cling to what they know though they feel trapped/oppressed in their present circumstances. they don't notice the signs they are receiving from the world around them. they fear change and growth.

22 - the fool

there is no 0 card in the wyrd web as there is in tarot, so the fool takes on the 22nd number manifestation in the web even though it is the 1st card of the major arcana. rider waite smith illustrated the fool (the card associated with uranus) as a young man wearing a boldly patterned outfit. the young man parallels the hermit as the mountain range featured in the hermit card appears in the background of the fool card and the fool carries a stick (read the description of the walking stick in the "9 - the hermit" section above). on his stick is a small bundle likely filled with his essentials to life so he is prepared to start a journey... right off the edge of the cliff. also present in the card is the sun (enthusiasm and clarity) on the right (the future), a white rose (innocence and free) held off to the right along with his bundle, and a small white dog (the dog is prancing meaning to signal him of the cliff edge thus is a symbol of intuition) at his feet. the fool faces the left thus he has to first explore what is in his past (hermit energy), before leaping into his future, where all the fortunate elements lie (the bundle (worldly possessions), the flower (innocence and freedom), the dog (intuition), and the sun (positivity and clarity).

evolved 22s are always ready to explore the world around them - be it via their physical, spiritual, mental, and/or emotional realm. they trust they are on the right path and trust in the universe to not steer them wrong as they explore. they enjoy taking risks and taking big leaps - they do not fear "obstacles" or "setbacks". these are mere lessons to learn and experiences to gain. they are in tune with their guides and listen to those with messages as they consciously make their own path and explore it mindfully.

un-evolved 22s haphazardly take risks or are too afraid to take any - without risk they gain no reward, they feel stagnant in their journey. they fear change and hesitate when step even toeing the line out of their comfort zone. they make plans but never execute them. obstacles are treated as life inconveniences. they are often too afraid to experience life or explore the world around them - they often stick to what they know and remained tied to their past.

that's all for today! the next number we will be looking at is that top most number, your higher self.

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[talonabraxas]

Kali Yantra

The Yantra is a geometric symbol existing in the external world as well as a subject to be internalized within human consciousness. Kali is the Hindu Goddess of time, of change. She is the power of action, of the breath and of transformation (kriya-shakti). Kali’s essence is Divine Love. Through time, breath and Divine Love all things are accomplished. If we surrender to Her essence, She creates the energy and all is possible. The Kali Yantra, then, contains within it the transformative energy of change.

When we internalize this energy and surrender to its sweet transformative power of love, we begin our inward journey toward healing and spiritual growth. According to the Tantric tradition, the 36 corners of the Yantra represent the 36 principles (tattvas) of creation, from the Most Transcendent to the most minute expression of Materiality. The bindu is the central point, the seat of the soul, the Atman; the internal link with Brahman the Absolute. The bindu is also Kali, and all the phenomenal world emanates out from Her. In the Tantric tradition, Kali as the energy (Shakti) aspect of material nature is united with the Absolute (Shiva) for the sake of creation

Five (5) inverted concentric triangles, 2 circles and 8 lotus petals enclose the bindu.

The 5 inverted concentric triangles represent the 5 kosas or sheaths of the human condition, with soul (bindu) in the middle: Annamayakosa (physical), Pranamayakosa (life force), Manomayakosa (mental/emotional), Vijnanamayakosa (wisdom) and Anandamayakosa (bliss). The 15 corners of the 5 inverted concentric triangles represent the 15 principles of experience (tattvas); the 5 organs of sense – smell, taste, sight, touch, hearing; 5 organs of action – procreation, excretion, locomotion, handling, speaking; and 5 tanmatras – odour, flavour, colour, feeling, sound. The inverted position of the triangle represents the female regenerative power.

The 2 circles symbolize the cycle of birth and death, which we must pierce through the bindu in the centre in order to reach the Absolute Reality.

The 8 lotus petals are symbols of Prakriti, the cause of the manifesting universe. The 8 lotus petals refer to the 8 principles (tattvas) of Prakriti – The 5 principles of materiality or nature (Prakriti) are Earth, Water, Fire, Air, and Ether. And with the 3 principles of the inner instrument (antahkarana), the Lower Mind (manas), the Higher Mind (buddhi) and the Ego-sense (ahamkara), these 8 tattvas compose the phenomenal or relative world.

Kali as the power of action is inherent in the element air or wind, Vayu. In human body Kali exists as Prana, the breath or life-force. Kali holds the five vital airs: prana (upward air); apana (downward air); vyana (air within the body); udana (air leaving the body); and samana (air at the navel which helps to digest food). Kali emphasizes inner action, which generates the internalizing force of so’ ham, the rhythm of the breath, the sound of the breath: I am that, I am Spirit, I am Kali. Like the wind, she is mobile, subtle and transformative. Kali relates to lightning (vidyut-shakti), the electrical force that pervades the universe as the power of transformation. Like the electrical storm, She acts quickly. Kali grants a lightning-like illumination and transformation. She is located in the spiritual heart, the anahata chakra. She is the pulsating of the physical heart, the blood that gives us life; in this action She is called Rakta-Kali or the Red Kali.

Red in the Kali Yantra is the colour of the heart’s lifeblood, filling us with vitality. Black is the colour of the night; but as we approach Kali, She becomes as bright as the sun. Grey is the emerging light into the black, the midworld existing between the earthly plane and the realm of heaven. Kali as Prakriti or Shakti exists in all three realms. Bronze is the colour of the earth, the sphere of normal consciousness. Gold is the colour of the alchemist, the colour of transformation moving us into Higher Consciousness. The red and yellow flames are the transformative fires gently cooking us, making us more palatable for Spirit.

Kali Mantra

Om Hrim Shreem Klim Adya Kalika Param Eshwari Swaha [Om Hreem Shreem Kleem Ahd-yah Kah-lee-kah Pah-rahm Ehsh-wah-ree Swah-hah]

“Om and salutations to She who is the first one, dark within her own reality, the supreme primordial feminine, who cuts through illusion to the unabridged truth of existence.”

The Kali Yantra Meditation:

[regular-gnome]

Absolutely /adore/ your art and overall take on the Demon Realm world + it's history and the Archivists. Especially coming from someone who adores speculative biology and trying to find logic/science in magic (I'm not sure how to word it so it makes sense - basically almost everything you are doing here)

Curious if you have any ideas on how the titans managed to inhabit the planet, because Papa Titan's hand managed to reach the atmosphere just from lying down. There's no way that planet was big enough for a bunch of titans to walk around comfortably.

Idk much about planetary stuff, but is there some way the planet may have changed? Maybe the Archivists did something?

Sorry this ask got kinda long, hope you have a lovely day doing little gnome things :}

glad you like them!:D

So, one of the gnome things is overanalyzing things and avoiding doing math, but here we are, you actually made me read my biophysics notes from 4 years ago. There are a few things to really focus on and think about, but I gotta preface this by saying I am very much not an expert on speculative biology xD I just have the internet and some books I am basing my theories on

Titans:

First the titans themselves. A while ago, I made an approximation of how large the Boiling Isles titan is and got that it would be around 27 km in height post-mortem. Buuut if the titan was this height during its life is another question because it would run into some biophysics issues

Issues like the atmospheric pressure. At ground level, it is 101.3 kPa, but at 27 km, it falls is 1.6 hPa (titan bless wolframalpha for counting this as exp funtions are the death of me). That is 63 times higher pressure on their legs than on their head! Blood circulation would be shot to the moon. The blood is liquid that in general transports gasses so travelling fron upper body parts to lower ones where there is diffrent dissoving of oxygen would end up in gas bubbles, which are NOT GREAT. Additionally, their ability to stand up or lie down quickly would be pretty much non-existant as that would be super fast change of pressure and more bubbles. But okay, lets say they are like some kind of abyss fishes and keep constant internal pressure.. that would still mean their hearts would need to be either massive or they would have multiple pumping mechanisms to handle their size (maybe like the single-chamber hearts in fish??) And the thing is we saw their heart, it was big but not THAT big so unless it was just one of many, maybe the last beating heart there might be diffrent explanation. And Im not gonna even go into how temperature changes every 100m around 0,6C, lets say their fur makes them warm and cozy and blue blood avoids freezing problems like some arctic critters

bringing those graphs up again cause they show the altitude change nicely

All of this to say the titans during life were probably smaller. They would still have been massive, but maybe not three times the size of mt Everest massive. So next thing to consider is their magic. Their powers are closely tied to life, healing and creation and so, the demons on the Boiling Isles are said to have originated from it and their evolution waas likely sped up a lot thanks to it. Next we saw size-changing spells affecting King in the carnival episode, so it's not a stretch to believe that all titans could be affected by this kind of spells, with the strength depending on the particular titan's magic. So anyway as the titan was activly dying, its magic could have desperately attempted to save it by rapidly generating more cells to repair its failing systems, ending up in expansion of all tissues and their overall size. (Maybe thats why the vains were so big and empty in the mines, you cant create more energy so maybe the magic going with simmilar concept expanded everything around but not made more of blood?) However, despite these efforts, the magic would ultimately fail to save them. When it reached a critical point, maybe after using up most of its magical energy, the process would stop or change focus. There are some fun grusome possiblities on how that might have went down but this is already pretty long

So in short, I think the titans during life were big but only got island sized after death, otherwise theyd have some wild biological mechanisms battling physics and them becomming bigger would explain where did most of the blood go after death. Not to mention how much food they would need

Planet:

Next the size of the planet. While we don't have many clues to determine whether it's bigger or smaller than Earth, one clue is Luz's lack of reaction to changing gravity after passing through the door. If the planet were larger (or denser I know), she would feel change in g-force, so like the feeling of being on a lift going up in case of bigger planet or down in case of smaller. If the diffrence was significant she would develop issues with circulatory system and fatigue. But thats not the case and I do not have the energy to calculate min change xD

So let's say the planet is Earth-sized. This is still a lot. We don't know if there are any continents on the planet or their sizes, but even if there were same like earth, the scale is immense. If the Boiling Isles were the size of New York (based on titan's height) or even larger, say the size of Hawaii, compared to the world map, that's tiny. If Earh is 510 100 000 km², while NYC covers 1213,3 km² to cover the same area, we'd need 420423 titans lied up neatly next to each other. And thats if they are isles sized their whole life. There can also be landmasses where they can lay on, oceans deep enough to cover bodies, they can be stacked.... I don't think the planet necessarily needs to be much larger to accommodate creatures of this size

TOH as a show:

One thing to remember while analyzing shots from the show is that we we will run into contradictions because it's a show, one that is not focused on speculative biology. While most elements are well-constructed, some details may show inconsistencies. For example, determining the direction of north on a titan becomes challenging when one shot shows the sun setting in one direction and later another. Finding the titan's height poses difficulties when one shot shows their arm reaching the atmosphere while another barely shows them reaching it while standing. But its not due to carelessness, its more about serving purpose of the shot, conveying the atmosphere. They both show the titans are giant, the view from above is beautiful and if they were more focused on keeping them some arbitrery size it might have taken away from it

And Im pretty sure that I'm wrong around a lot of aspects here, how it wasnt supposed to be interpreted like that or its more convoluted than I realize. Thats just my take on this. World we live in can seem small as we can only see a tiny part of it but Earth is so amazingly vast. It's larger than we can comprehend, and yet, it's nothing compared to the vastness of the universe. So, yeah, some of my thoughts on titans and the demon realms planet xD peace