#prompt: june 2018
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pinkslaystation · 8 months ago
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Tulips or Roses?
John Price x reader
In which you find John's old diary detailing his love for you his teammate and you begin to question his love for you. Word Count: 3.6k -> blurb - rose meets tulips
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Being a civilian to a soldier was hard enough.
And it was even harder when your husband was a commander for one of the most skillful task force. So it wasn't unusual for him to be gone for long periods of time.
So on a random Friday evening, anticipating his arrival in the coming week, vacuuming the floors, cleaning the windows, you found yourself at the door of John's study, with was decorated with a glass name plate, with the words 'Study' accompanied with a painted heart created from blue and pink fingerprints from you and your husband.
John was never the man to tell you off if you entered his study, instead he encouraged it. He's beckoned you to bring him his evening tea to him, to give him a massage, sometimes when you wanted him, he'd allow you to help him under the desk, if you get what I mean. (speaking from experience ;>)
As you stepped into his room, you noticed the ceilings adorned with sizable white cobwebs, cringing at the apparent neglect of his study. When was the last time someone had even been here?
Sweeping his desk, wiping away the dust, you find a box underneath beside his chair, which prompted you to lifting it up and placing on top of the desk. Man, you underestimated it's weight. You struggled to lift a small but heavy moving box, and it caused a few books and papers to fall out.
You cursed at your clumsiness, picking up the loose sheets, until you fingers caught the spine of a red vintage-like book, which had the word 'diary' written on the front. You didn't take too much notice, skimming through the pages until you caught your name being mentioned a phew times.
You giggle, it's a diary probably with John confessing his love to you numerous time! You know you probably shouldn't look through it, I mean privacy exists, but you just can't help it.
So you look through some of the infrequent entries, the oldest dating back to 10 years back, and the most recent one being nearly 4 years, when you and John had first met.
30th February 2010
Suffering in Afghanistan, the lads and I are stuck in the safe house for a week now. Rose is here too, I should ask her if she's okay.
Ahhh you remember this story. When the Task Force was stuck in the city of Kandahar, in the safe house. You also remember John's team, whom you are well-acquainted with, Soap, Ghost, Gaz, Roach, Rose?
You skip through the boring entries, most of which are just John documenting his work-out plan and the places him and his team had visited.
5th July 2016
Gaz's going on and on about his lass. Someone tell him to talk to her at least, he doesn't even know her name! I keep bringing it up but he keeps mentioning when I'll talk to Rose.
You chuckled, assuming the chick was Gaz's current wife. But the last part caught your attention, Rose again? You remember John telling you that she'd retired, went back north to settle with her family now, so you don't think much of it, I mean they are team mates.
19th June 2017
Saw a cute kid and her mama, wishing I had kids, without this lifestyle. Rose wants a son but I don't particularly mind. Soap overheard our conversation and spammed me lols on Whatsapp, but I thought lol meant little old lady? I am a man though.
You raise your eyebrow at another mention of Rose, why doesn't he care if Rose wanted a son? You didn't realise how close your husband was to her.
2nd December 2018
Christmas this month with my boys. Rose invited me over for a smoke. Ghost rolls his eyes when I mentioned it to him, says I need to man up and make a move.
You squinted your eyes, rereading the entry, and hesitantly skipping to the next one.
7th April 2019
Drinks with my men (and Rose haha, she doesn't like being part of the men). It's her birthday and she wants to tell us something. She's got her red lips again. I'm excited, Soap kept nudging me the entire ride, that cheeky bugger.
Then immediately below it, an update: She's seeing someone.
You're slowly piecing the puzzle, though you don't want to assume anything.
21st August 2019
She came into my room crying, seems like it's not going well, good for me. I hope she's okay and she realises there's better fish in the sea. She hugged me, she smells like roses, I love floral scents. I tried leaning in, she says I'm like an older brother to her.
Your heart breaks a bit, sniffing at your freshly washed hair, which smelt like ... like roses.
You thought floral scents were YOUR thing.
You continued, to the next entry which was marked the date you remember meeting John for the first time at the pub. You force a smile, hoping the entry would lighten your mood.
30th November 2020
In the pub and bored. Rose brought her lad... they're back together. What does she see in him? Soap urges me to find someone else but my heart is set on someone, for a long time. Won't change. He keeps gesturing to a girl on the other end of the counter, she's pretty, but like a tulip. Not like a rose. Not like my Rose.
You grip at the notebook and you try your hardest not to rip the papers out of the book and set his entire study on fire.
You remember this day, when you were dragged to the pub by your friends after being dumped by your ex for another girl. You sat at one end of the counter, with tears in your eyes but one look at that buff Englishman on the other end and your mood flipped instantaneously, 180 degrees.
"Kelsey, look at that guy, Mr Army over there." You beckon towards John's direction, to your friend., slightly tipsy after a peg of beer.
Your friend looks at you with a raised eyebrow, then turns to the guy whose piqued your interest, "You should go for it." She encourages you.
So you get yourself 2 drinks and approach the guy, more confident that usual due to your alcoholic state. A beer would do.
"Hi, this seat empty?" You smile at him innocently.
All this time you had recalled a look of fondness towards you, when he'd first locked eyes with you. You remember bragging about how it had been love at first sight for the both of you, but thinking back, a feeling of doubt starts bubbling inside you.
"It's reserve- you know what. Take a seat."
You remember sitting next to him, passing him a drink, and telling him your name, "...and you are?" you question, although you see him wincing. At first you thought it was just an army thing, so guarded that even the slightest of movements would make him twitch.
But now you're questioning whether he really wanted to engage into a conversation with you.
The following hours, as you painfully recall, was filled with you talking about yourself and occasionally asking him after his life, though he gives you one word answers and frequent nods.
But that was just because he'd just come home from a mission right?
"...and he just broke up with me out of the blue! Like was my 12,000 followers on TikTok not good enough for you?" You chuckle, attempting to crack a joke. He smiles confused, and you note he's probably too old to understand what TikTok was.
"Sounds like an asshole, love." He replies.
"Hmm, he was...I- I just don't know what he'd leave me for her...like I gave you my everything, I was always with you through thick and thin and what, that wasn't enough for you?" You trail off, the effects of the 2nd beer hitting you.
"I understand dove, you just give 'em everything and they just find someone else. What does he have that I don't?" He spaces out, his eyes falling on his teammates sitting at a different table. You follow his gaze, smiling slightly when you lock eyes with one of his smirking subordinates, whom you know know as Soap.
"Those people, they're your team?" You question.
His eyes aren't on you though as he responds, "That mohawk, that's Soap, Ghost next to him, tough as steel but soft at heart, Gaz on the opposite, funny lad, Roach, good ol' Roach..."
You look at the woman to the right of 'Roach', taking in her beauty. Though she's sitting down, you can tell she's taller that you by least 4 inches, with a blonde pixie haircut and painted with a dark smokey eye. A deep smirk is plastered onto her plump ruby red lips as she looks at John Price finally talking to a woman that isn't her. She raises a hand, waving to the both of you, which is almost instantaneously reciprocated by John.
"And her?" You ask, head nudging towards the woman.
"Her...That's Rose. You should meet her, you would like her, but who doesn't..." His chuckle fades out and you at how his attention was fully directed to her. A sinking feeling told you that you should have backed off from the married man, but it disappeared when John pointed out her partner, with gritted teeth.
Your hands are gripping the pages at this point, as you recall memories from the diary from his point of view.
You turn the page to the next entry, dreading the words.
19th December 2020
Thought me and Rose would go back to the pub for another drink for the holidays, but she's going back to his place. Seems they're taking the next steps with meeting the families.
Soap's annoyed at how I'm 'ghosting' the girl I met at the pub, I'm once again unfamiliar with the lingo, I'm not Simon?? She's nice but, not sure I see anything further than a friendship. Gaz and him are picking out an outfit for me, she wants to meet up for bowling apparently. I just want to be with Rose...
Clenching your fist, you shut the diary and toss it aside, feeling all kinds of emotions. Upset that John had never truly looked at you the way you'd looked at him. The way he never wanted you, like you wanted him.
Every time you'd seen him online on Whatsapp, but still hadn't opened your messages, he was ghosting you? Sure after a while of being friends, his behaviour gradually changed, accompanied with rapid texts, but you felt like this relationship was built on lies.
Did he even want to go bowling with you that day? Did you win because he purposely let you, because he was bored and wanted to go home, be with Rose instead? When he asked you to be his girlfriend, did he ask you with Rose in mind?
The ding of the oven stopped your trail of thoughts, so many questions swirling around your head. You walk out of the study, slamming the door behind you, the combined mess of dust and cobwebs remaining untouched.
The glass name plate falls to the ground, the edge shattering, with shards of clear glass laying dangerously on the wooden floor.
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A couple of hours go by and the doorknob rattles at 8:45 P.M. on the dot. John was never late when he had to come home to you.
He reaches base at 7:30, drives exacting an hour to your shared home, after making a quick pit stop at the florists within 10 minutes to give you a freshly scented bouquet of red roses.
Roses. So that's why he'd give them you every time...
He makes sure to leave him 5 minutes of spare time, which was designated to flipping open a small metal notebook you'd gifted him, and writing his thoughts down. And once those 5 minutes were up, he places the notepad back into his jacket pocket and practically runs towards the front door.
"Dove, I'm home!" He exclaimed, gently placing his belonging on the floor, before walking into the living floor, where you sat on the sofa with your legs and arms crossed. (MY BITCH POSE IS NASTY)
"Sweetheart, you didn't run up to me at the door, you alright love?" He sits next to you, his calloused and freshly bruised arms rubbing your knee.
The silence was deafening and you couldn't find it in yourself to look at him after all you've read.
He takes it as a cue to continue, "I got you some roses, baby. Your favourite-"
"When did I say they were my favourite?"
John blinks at the interruption, "I mean, you don't like them? It's tradition to bring the same red roses for you every time I'm back..."
"And when did I say I liked them? Are they my favourite? Or are they her favourite?" You shift towards him, anger evident in your voice.
"Her? Who? Sweetheart, what's going on?"
"I mean, come on man, you like floral shit that much that now you're making me wear it?"
"You...don't like floral scents? Did you want tulips instead, baby?"
Your eyebrows are furrowed in annoyance by his confusion.
"It doesn't matter if I wanted tulips, John, it's the fact that YOU like roses. In fact you've like Roses this entire time! Don't act like you like tulips 'cos you don't- to be honest I don't think you ever have!" You rant, handing running through your hair.
"I mean I like both honey, roses are just, um, prettier?" He sounds like he's asking you rather than telling you.
"Of course roses are prettier to you- that's all that you're fucking used to you. It's always roses, roses, roses. You're so obsessed with fucking roses, you never gave tulips a bloody chance!"
"Are we still talking about flowers-"
"And when you do give tulips a chance, you're still thinking about roses- how red they are, how pretty they are, how they need to be watered every 5 fucking minutes, even then there's already someone to water those damn. Red. Roses."
"I- I mean I like tulips too, baby-"
"No. You don't. No, you don't. Tulips are just the safest options for you, cos someone already plucked out those fucking roses. Cos roses don't want you."
You're standing up now, and John's attempts to speak are futile with every sentence you shout.
"No. In fact, roses has never wanted you, roses look better with someone else, and ol' poor John has no more roses, so he goes and waters some unwanted tulips instead!"
John stands up, towering over your shaking frame, his hands come up to stroke your biceps, but he's pushed away.
"I mean, did John ever even like tulips? Or was he faking it cos he never got roses? Was tulips just the safe option? Does John still want roses after all the years tulips have been there for him?"
You left out a pained cry, you didn't even notice the tears leaking out of your eyes.
"Does John even like tulips? Does John even love tulips?"
His hands wipe your tears away, and he brings you into his chest, and you don't attempt to push him away this time.
"Does you even love me, John?" You break down into his arms, letting him carrying you into the bedroom, where he places you gently on the bed, while you hiccup through your uneven sobs. He smells the stench of wine through your shaking breath, whilst stroking your hair, and you slowly fall into a deep slumber with your head pressed against his still uniform-clad chest.
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The clock hits midnight and John gets up, trying not to wake you up, grabbing his sweats from the drawer and walking to the bathroom across the hall, in order to not wake you up, from what looked like a well-needed rest.
As he trudges out of the bedroom and through the corridor, the reflection of the broken glass catches his eyes and he squints in the darkness, squatting down to pick a small shard. As he lifts the remains of the nameplate, hooking it back to the door, he steps over the mess into the study to retrieve a dust pan and brush.
Flicking the lights on, he's met with what looks like a scene from the reality TV show - Hoarders. So starts cleaning quickly, picking up the duster and bunching up the paperwork from the floor, the pot of pens that had seemed to be knocked down, the diary he'd used to write in...hold on-
Picking up the diary, John flicks through the entries, the book naturally opening to the last open slide.
He begins reading the last entry.
19th December 2020
Thought me and Rose would go back to the pub for another drink for the holidays, but she's going back to his place. Seems they're taking the next steps with meeting the families.
Soap's annoyed at how I'm 'ghosting' the girl I met at the pub....
"Oh...my tulip, I've never loved roses as much as I loved you." He mumbles to himself, whilst simultaneously cringing at his previously written words, immediately throwing the book back on the floor.
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It's past breakfast when you wake up, throat and eyes painfully dry from last night's crying session, forcing yourself to drag yourself to the bathroom. You've forgotten that John had come home last night, as your met with a familiar empty bed.
After brushing your teeth and washing your face, you walk downstairs, being face to face with the naked back of Captain John Price.
The smell of chocolate pancakes waft towards your nose, as you look around the kitchen, the room garnished with a variety of different flowered bouquets, with so many variations of plants.
Bundles of dahlias and lotuses, orchids and lilies, carnations and irises, roses and tulips.
John turns to your footsteps, smiling at his perfect woman.
"Baby, good mornin'" He greets you, placing a single rose into your hair, and pecking your forehead warmly.
"John, listen about last night-"
"It was the old diary, wasn't it?" he asks.
You nod, ashamed for your abrupt behaviour yesterday. John lifts your chin up, resting his forehead against yours.
"Rose never taught me how to love like you did."
"John, you don-" His pointer finger is pressed against your lips.
"Reading those words from the past, I can see how it may have painted a different picture of my feelings. But let me assure you, my love, that you are the one I adore with all my heart."
Your stroke his face, heart warming to his words.
"Every rose I brought home was a symbol of my love for you, not because it was her favorite, but because it reminded me of the beauty and grace that you bring into my life. And those tulips, they represent the new beginnings and the fresh start that we share together.
My love for you is unwavering and unconditional. You are my tulip, my true love, and I vow to cherish and adore you for all eternity. Please forgive me for any pain or doubt my past words may have caused."
"John..."
He hands you his notepad from from his back pocket, beckoning you to open it.
You look at the first entry.
19th February 2021
I mentioned how I journal sometimes to her, and she bought me a new notepad, it's cute how she calls it a diary. Things are looking good. Bowling's our thing, I let her win because seeing her smile means I've won too. I'm asking her out tonight, Soap cried real tears when I told him.
You turn the page.
20th July 2021
Our 6 month anniversary. Took her to a field of roses and tulips, though nothing compares to her beauty.
The next one.
17th September 2021
I seldom think of Rose, I have my tulip on my mind now. Rose retired, and the team celebrated last night. She hugged me and thanked me for being a good captain. She also acknowledged my previous feelings for her. Man that was uncomfortable, but I reassured her I'm with my tulip now. I love my tulip.
I've always preferred tulips anyway.
And the next.
5th July 2022
Our 500 day anniversary. I want to propose.
17th September 2022
She said yes!! She may be my fiance, but I've already started calling her my wife, not legally yet at least...illegally?
28rd December 2023
We married 30th November. The day we met. Xmas was amazing, I can't see myself with anyone but her. I'm getting deployed tomorrow though.
You look at the most recent entry, dated last night.
16th February 2024
Missed the valentines day with my missus. Hope these roses are enough, though I wanted to get something better. Tulips for my tulip. They ran out haha. Missed my girl, missed her like I've never missed someone before. Soap's right, deployment suck.
Tears welled up in your eyes, not from pain or doubt this time, but from overwhelming joy and love for the man standing before you.
"I'm sorry, John," you whispered, your voice choked with emotion. "I didn't mean to doubt your love."
He smiled, a genuine and heartfelt smile that reached his eyes, pulling you into a warm embrace. "No need for apologies, my tulip. Thank you for teaching me how to love."
And in that moment, amidst the scent of chocolate pancakes and fresh flowers, it felt like you love story was just beginning, filled with trust, forgiveness, and a deep, unwavering love for each other.
That should not have taken me 2 days to complete what in the world. Also if i was tulip, that old diary is going straight into a fire! Barbecue anyone? <3 Quick Notes: I head-cannoned Rose to look like Sergeant Calhoun from Fix-it-Felix lolololol woman crush fr i get u john boy I've decided to start a tag list! -> lemme know you're interested to be tagged in my future posts! tags -> @lilliumrorum
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sgiandubh · 1 year ago
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Lights, camera, shit show
I was just cleaning my OL folders (all those Chinese paintings and scrolls do take a horrendous amount of space, heh) and I just stumbled upon something I completely forgot to share and discuss with you. I found this particular article during my solitaire lurking months and I remember being befuddled by it for a long time, then thought I've lost it for good.
I don't remember ever seeing it shared or discussed in here, either and if, by any slim chance, I am wrong, kindly forgive me. That professional website is now closed, but its content is still available to browse:
Anyway, there goes: https://www.studiodaily.com/2018/06/outlander-dp-stephen-mcnutt-asc-csc-saucy-scottish-show/
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We discussed Terry Dresbach and her inebriated rants, Vanessa Woman's devastating impact on set as Intimacy Coordinator, RDM's jealousy and many other aspects of life on the OL set. Rumors likely to have originated there peppered our shipping trail like flickering lights in a sea of darkness. So yes, we dissected these things to death. But not Stephen McNutt's interview to Studio Daily, on June 22, 2018 - please keep in mind the date, it is essential!
Stephen McNutt is a well-established professional and a member of the American Society of Cinematographers (ASC) and the Canadian Society of Cinematographers (CSC), as he hails from British Columbia. He also has a consistent track record of previous work with RDM, both on Battlestar Galactica and Caprica (its prequel). Therefore, one has to immediately suppose he was handpicked and brought on set by the same RDM, of course: set a very low bar on your expectations, I am warning you.
By the grace of RDM, he was one of the main Directors of Photography for OL during Seasons Two and Three. IMDb is not the best source for corroborating things, because they credit him with 13 episodes in Season Two (including La Dame Blanche- he is the Blue Room guy!), but only one for Season Three (First Wife), which is completely wrong. I even had to check some opening credits on Netflix (at reduced speed, ugh), because he speaks at length of A. Malcolm, something that would have made little sense otherwise. He was there, of course: and his is a first-hand account, heavily loaded with both innuendo and TPTB bullshit, up to the point of complete incoherence.
We focus on the three final questions:
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This is a study in bullshitology, right here. The question asked is very clear and very technical: how did you approach those famous love scenes?
The answer is a mumble jumble of retcon, deflections, slips and overall impossible scramble for a logical explanation. I am doing a line by line, because this is almost too good to be true:
'(...) But as far as Cat and Sammy making love (...)' : um, hello and excuse me, I thought the question was about Jamie and Claire?!? And then we are delusional and can't fucking separate, when your own henchman, the Director of Photography no less, seems to be totally unable to do so, too? Hello? Also: 'Sammy'? 'Sammy'? What. The. Total. Fuck, and I LOLed then and I am still LOLing now. Terms of endearment overheard on set - but no, here comes the 'friendship' shite, hitting the narrative fan with Mach 5 speed. Objective? Explaining in a plausible way the hugging and 'keeping warm'. And I am sorry, but this begs the question: what the hell did this man see on that set? And how many people did see the same, hence the need to release such a gratuitous lie, for pure retconning purposes?
'They are not an item at all - I think she just got married'. Oh, fuck my life, man: you are such a terrible, terrible liar! Remember, that interview was taken in June 2018: after the OZ EFH and just about when C. was gleefully answering 'oh, God forbid!' every time she was prompted by press about her marriage plans. How can somebody with a pretty high trophic level and personal rapport to both S and C be totally unaware about C's marital status at the time? How can a long time acquaintance and coworker of RDM say no both to a friend and to a current boss (same person, the worst case scenario) asking for a favor, in that particular context? It also goes to prove that the shit show plot mainlines never originated with S and C and that the Remarkable Week-end was already planned for quite some time. By TPTB. With the full knowledge of RDM.
Let's suppose Mr. McNutt was so deeply engrossed in his work as not to notice all the people who must have congratulated C on set. I mean, I know who our (spinster) colleague from Accounting is currently banging and that guy is (mercifully) not among our staff (I totally wish them well, btw). Maybe because nobody congratulated C on that fakegagement? Also, you know them well enough to confidently say 'they are not an item', but don't know she was not married at the time and state an enormity with the same confidence? What in the name of the hoo-ha did I just read, here?
'I was always in such amazement of that.' In amazement of exactly what, Mr. McNutt? Surely not a woman holding hands or keeping warm with her gay co-star on set, huh? I mean, I need the best American English dictionary, here:
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Again: what the heck did this man see? What comments did he hear? Surely, 'amazement' is a very precise choice of wording, with particularly enlightening synonyms:
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Hence the need to end the demonstration with a deflection: 'They would just have fun.' You know, there is no such thing as a virgin whore, Mr. McNutt: you either are in such astonishment or you think your pals, good old S and C, such a funny girl, were having, well... 'fun', what else? You can't logically have both in the same paragraph!
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And there we go: 'a very collegial atmosphere on set'. The answer is pure fool's gold, if you ask me: 'Nobody goes to sit in a trailer or says they aren’t showing up that day. '
And I laughed. And I laughed. And I laughed. I really don't know what this man is talking about. I never heard McTavish telling S to get out of that trailer ('nephew'). I never read the 'two very loved-up birdies' in a trailer a-rockin' Anons. I never watched that 2015 Anglophile SDCC interview, when S mentioned listening in their shared trailer to Erasure's Oh, l'Amour and C immediately reacted ('oh, did you just admit to that?'). But unlike me, McNutt must have been legally bound by a big cojones Non-Disclosure Agreement and morally bound by loyalty towards RDM, his friend, boss and benefactor.
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This. All of the above. This is the real reason for all the bullshit you've just read: explaining a real, shocking love story by socially progressive regulations, allowing the cast to be 'much more happy'. I would laugh some more, if this was not sinister and cruel, in fact.
It is Love. A deep, strong one. But the seeds of the adverse narrative were planted early and deep, forcing even decent people like this guy to lie and smear himself a bit in the process. What we see and hear now are but better worded and more refined consequences of that fateful January 2016 morning in LA. And since I am allowed the dubious luxury only a healthy distance in time allows, let me remind you a simple, fun fact about this interview who stated they were never an item:
About ten months after McNutt uttered these words, the fandom was hit by the Covfefe Pics.
I rest my case.
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lcdrarry · 6 months ago
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16 May 2024 | LCDrarry Fic
this strange effect
Prompt: "Killing Eve" (2018 - 2022) Prompted by: Soulmates Drarry Author: Anonymous Word Count: 30,670 words Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Violence, Blood and Injury, Assassinations, Killing Eve AU, Murder, Light Poisoning, Obsessive Behavior, Reference to past addiction issues, Presents
Notes: Thank you so much to O for helping me sort out the mess of ideas I had at the beginning and for cleaning up after me when I played it fast and loose with the English language!! You're the best, genuinely!! And thank you to S for the vibe/plot check!! One final thank you to the mods for being so supportive and encouraging. It's been the best first fest experience!! Now, onto the murder lol
Summary: Harry hated his job, his cousin, and his inability to figure out how to fit into the boring, depressing world around him. He kept his peace until Draco Malfoy turned out to not be dead like Harry thought he was. Deadly, though? Harry was going to figure that out.
Read it now on AO3.
Please help promote the fest by sharing your favourite submissions, so more people can enjoy all the amazing new Drarry works of LCDrarry. Thank you!
Creator reveals are on 15 June.
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dragonagefanevents · 6 months ago
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Dragon Age Fan Event Listings
The beauty of fan events is that they are run by fans.
Including you.
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▸What are the types of fan events? - #education
▸Start a new event! - #how tos (coming soon)
▸Ask Box - send us advice, or ask for it!
▸Blog Tag List
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Below is a list of all Dragon Age fan-run events we can find. The links should bring you to the most recent iteration of the event. Where possible, the time period the event covers is listed next to the event.
Want to get an event listed? Check out the link and submit. Look here for multi-fandom events, or more events in general.
Event Masterlist - #compendium
Bangs
25k Big Bang (July - November)
10k Big Bang (March - April)
Dragon Age Reverse Bang
Exchanges
Arlathan Exchange (April - June)
DA Polyshipping (August - November)
Handers Exchange (March - May)
Templartations Exchange (March - May)
Black Emporium Rare Pair Exchange (June - September)
Platonic Ideal Gen Fic Exchange (December - February)
Smutquisition (January - March)
Theme Weeks/Months
Krem Week 2024 (July 22 - 28)
City Elf Week (August 5 - August 11)
Zevwarden Week (2024 dates TBD)
Tranquil Week (August 25 - 31)
Sera Appreciation Week (Oct 13 - 19)
Kink Memes
Dragon Age Kink Meme (Dreamwidth) | DAO | DA2 | DAI
Zines
Dragon Age Flower Zine (Creation Period)
Wanderers Zine (Creation Period)
Dragon Age OC Zine (Mod Apps Open)
Alistair Zine (Creation Period)
Special Events
Dragon Age Drunk Writing Circle
Dragon Age Annual (2025 Production Period)
Dragon Age Create-A-Thon (Begins Sept 15 2024)
Reddit Weekly Dragon Age Writing Prompts
Unofficial Dragon Age Day (Dec 4)
Solavellan Day (April 11)
Past Events
Retired Bangs
DragonAgeBB (last: 2015; formerly on LJ and elsewhere)
Retired Exchanges
Demands of the Qun (Qunari)
A Paragon of Their Kind (DA Dwarves)
Solas Lovers
Hightown Funk (Varric/Hawke)
Retired Theme Weeks/Months
Autumn of Anders (Anders Appreciation Event)
Dalish Week
30 Days of Dorian (Dorian Appreciation Event)
Dragon Age Fan Week (2013)
Cullen Appreciation Week (2019)
Cullen Week (2021)
14 Days of DA Lovers
Fenris Appreciation Month (2017)
Rylen Appreciation Week (2018)
Sera Appreciation Week (2019)
Sub!Solas Week (2016)
Past Zines
Adoribull Fairytales
Age of Romance Zine (Incomplete)
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fountainpenguin · 23 days ago
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🍒 Cherry Lane Arc
Fairly OddParents
(June 2018 - Ongoing)
Cosmo and Wanda burst into view with twin poofs beside the tree. “Timmy!” But Timmy ignored them. Keeping his arm outstretched, he looked Jorgen in the eye. His teeth ground together, his buck teeth scraping loudest of all. “Yeah, you heard me right. I’m happy, and I don’t need my fairies anymore!”
- You may also like the Pink Train arc, which precedes this one
- Romance, Angst, & Fluff
- Works related to the main FOP cast and close adjacents in their teen years: Timmy, Chloe, Kevin, Chester, A.J., Vicky, Mark, Tootie, Trixie, Sanjay, Elmer, Dale... and a quietly watching Poof
-> This arc picks up after Pink Train and focuses on humans. If you're looking for pieces centered around Poof and Foop, see Lavender Train
Summary
20 years pass between the end of Season 10 and Timmy raising Tammy and Tommy in his parents' home. Every year brings new developments, and this arc's main multichapter (Along the Cherry Lane) explores each one. Several other works fall under the designation of "main cast in their teen and adult years," so they're here too. The road to adulthood is long and bumpy, but it's about the friendships we make along the way.
☁️ This is a Cloudlands AU arc. It is not compliant with City Lights AU or the "A New Wish" spin-off. However, Dale and Hadley's arcs have been soft reset so they're the same in both AUs.
-> Hazel, Dev, and their schoolmates do not appear in this AU (except in relation to Dale or Hadley's arcs). Works that follow their journey from kidhood to adulthood are in the City Lights arc.
Any Rating - This is the "teenage growth & married lives" arc. Some works are mild while others are more intense. This arc contains flirting, dating, and sexual content.
This arc follows the "Channel Chasers" implication that Timmy had his kids young.
Read on FFN | Read this arc on AO3
130 Sums | Full 130 Prompt Series (AO3) | Other Arcs
Cloudlands AU - Detailed warnings & other AU info
#130 arc guides - More posts like this
More Fairly OddParents 'fics
Highlights of this arc:
- Timmy parts ways with his fairy family early. Chloe doesn't. Poof isn't bitter... Not even a little - Remy hides things from his parents while still living in their mansion... including the orphan child he invited to stay - Teen Dale Dimmadome in recovery (If you can call it that) - Elmer struggles against Bob for control of his body - Tootie wobbles between the lines of morality, fighting to change her life for the better all the while - Trixie garners the courage to show up for D&D night with the boys. Maybe this could work? - The unbearable lightness of raising Tammy and Tommy - Several weddings, some of which go more to plan than others - Vicky and Mark living their best(?) lives - Kevin Crocker makes an unfortunate discovery about his witch genes - Foop runs away from home... and stumbles across familiar faces - Poof watches his godbrother grow up... Very maturely and non-stalker-y, I'm sure
Read on FFN | Read this arc on AO3
"A dragon lives forever, but not so little boys... Painted wings and giant springs make way for other toys..." (x)
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mononijikayu · 7 months ago
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It had been a long while since Genmei had set foot in this room, and she couldn't help but let her gaze wander, her eyes tracing the contours of the space. The memories of years gone by resurfaced, casting a warm, nostalgic light on her thoughts. The armchair in which she now reclined seemed as much a part of the room as the air and light that filled it, a fixture of comfort and familiarity that had stood the test of time.
GENRE: pre - hidden inventory arc to shibuya arc (1990s to 2010s);
WARNING/S: domesticity, fluff, angst, trauma, implied death, violence, romance, hurt/comfort, character death depiction of death, depictions of loss and depression, depiction of anxiety, mention of death, mention of grief, profanity, family drama;
LISTEN: present by khalid
NOTE: i rewrote this and made the two of them have more fun because, being married to gojo satoru for almost ten years changes you as a person. genmei certainly isn't all zenin anymore and gakuganji hates that. anyway enjoy this <333
masterlist
u s and t h e m
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[ Hiromi Shrine, June 2018; Tokyo Prefecture ]
THROUGHOUT THE YEARS, THE SMELL OF INCENSE HAD BECOME A COMFORT. Throughout the passing years, the fragrance of incense had transformed into a source of solace. Just as the presence of the kamis in front of her, the smell of incense had become the means to find a safe zone. In her tender years, that aroma had often left her feeling queasy, prompting her to seek refuge behind her father's hakama, where she'd bury her face in its fabric.
The scent that emanated from her father's garment was a symphony of sweetness and tenderness, akin to the delicate fragrance of cherry blossoms in spring. That memory remained etched in her mind. Yet now, as she stood in the autumn of her life, Genmei found herself far removed from her childhood self. The scent was not as disagreeable as it once appeared; in fact, she dared to admit that she rather enjoyed it.
The sun's rays filtered through the dense canopy of leaves, casting golden lattices upon the moss-covered path. Birds sang sweetly, the gentle breeze whispered secrets of the forest, and a hush fell upon the world, as if nature itself held its breath in anticipation. Today was a beautiful day, she could admit.
The past few days were obtused by such gray clouds, though it did not rain. That perhaps relieved Genmei, for she would have to take the train rather than being able to walk. She after all enjoyed being able to walk. Though, had Satoru come with her, she was certain he would complain too much about it. He had always been like that.
An elder miko smiled when she caught sight of the young woman, dropping her broom as Genmei greeted her in return. Genmei could not help panic, but she could not stop the older woman as she led her body down into an elegant bow. A flush of red rushed through her, sweat palmed face. One of these days, Genmei wished that she wasn’t as well known as she was.
A long time ago, Genmei would have eaten the glory of being known. Yet these days, the attention is not warranted. However, it is beyond unavoidable. She purses her lips, sighing. Perhaps it might have been better had she convinced Satoru to come with her. Satoru would eat this attention to its bones, she was certain.
One can call it bad luck, he’s too saddled with missions.
But knowing the man, he was already sight–seeing.
Genmei sighed.
“It is good to see you, my lady.” The elder miko grins, standing upwards. Her hands clasped in a formal fold.
Genmei hastily bowed in return. “I am glad to be here. But you need not bow to me, you know? I am not a higher ranking priestess than you.”
The elderly woman shakes her head. “That is not true, my lady. You are a descendant, after all. You are touched by the sacred. To have you here with us, it is an honor.”
The young woman felt her mouth turn into a short line, the reminder of notoriety that she knew she will never be free from. The connection of the blood was what mattered in all clans. The thought of being from the direct echo of the founder, it is as though the founder touches you. It was almost like a blessing from kami. Genmei had never understood that.
She did not like it either.
The thought had made her feel like she was more alien than human.
A moment of glum echoes her aura.
“Are you here to pray, my lady?” The older woman’s voice pulled her from her thoughts.
Genmei nodded. “Before I pray my respects to the ancestral hall, yes.”
The woman led Genmei towards the inside.
Genmei moved with a grace and reverence that seemed almost as ancient as the shrine itself. When she could, she followed the ritual that had been passed down through generations with unwavering devotion. With her offering carefully placed in the big red box, she stood before the honden, the heart of the sacred place. As the sun's gentle rays filtered through the ancient cedars, casting a warm glow on the shrine, Genmei reached for the thick rope that hung beside the entrance.
The sound of the bell reverberated through the tranquil forest, a call that resonated with the spirits of the land. Bowing twice, she paid her respects to the deity, clapping her hands twice to signal her presence. In the sacred silence that followed, she felt the ancient energies embrace her, and her heart swelled with a profound sense of connection. With one final, deep bow, she conveyed her gratitude and reverence.
Her sand colored hair quivered against her back as she raised her body slightly. Genmei meets the golden eyes of the kami. She lowered her head, her lilac eyes closed. Genmei is feeling the waves of the kami whisper to her, unable to move for what seemed like hours. It was as though the kami was pulling her body downwards, to force her to submit. Her knuckles buck and close.
A huff of pained breath leaves her lips laboriously. There was always an expectation to submit an offering. To this kami, the cursed energy within her was the best one. It protected the dwelling of the holy abode, after all. From long ago, that had been the practice.
Lilac eyes shone against the kami’s face.
Sweat pears against her porcelain face.
Genmei sighed, exhausted in the fight.
‘You truly are a bitter one, aren’t you?’ The voice laughs, sending shivers down her spine.
‘I hate you.’ Genmei hisses back.
The voice merely continued laughing. ‘You’re far more interesting to tease.’
‘I am not lighting an incense for you.’
‘You’d do it anyway,’ The voice snickers dismissively.
Genmei snarls, knowing the voice was right. Genmei tried to stand up, but failed for a moment. A frustrated gleam in her eyes as her legs took ground. Whenever she visited the kami’s shrine, there was always such entitlement to her body. She could not fight a kami, that she knew. Her cursed energy was drained, but once she took some rest she knew she would be better again. Still, she was glad it was only at his altars where must feel this way. A small price to pay, the words of her ancestor a thousand years ago writes.
‘When has it ever been worth it to serve the powerful?’
‘Gojo Satoru isn’t powerful?’
She shakes her head. ‘I’m not his servant.’
‘As you say.’
Once she was able to gather enough strength, she took to walking. Despite the pain, she knew she could not look weak in front of the elder miko. The woman bowed to her once more, as Genmei moved gracefully, her steps echoing the rhythm of the shrine's ancient stones. The sound of the bamboo fountain ringing in her ears. Her light cerulean blue kimono danced against the white shawl covering her arms.
The elder miko led the way, all the while telling her of the shrine’s condition while they walked. Genmei could not speak, her strength only starting to return to her. Genmei sighed, slowly taking out the incense from her kimono’s safety. In her hands, she carried a bundle of fragrant incense sticks, each carefully chosen for their purity and significance.
As she reached the sacred courtyard, Genmei paused to bow deeply in respect.She stared at the bountiful piles upon the table. She approached timidly the offering table, a wooden structure adorned with offerings of rice, fruits, and flowers. The shrine seems to have offered it on her behalf. The estate must have told them in advance.
At its center lay an intricately carved incense burner, ancient and weathered, its beauty only deepened by time. Her mother had told her that they were the same ones from when the parent clan still existed in its power. Genmei carefully touched it. Memories were inside them, sealed tightly. She was sure. There was such energy in them. Genmei turned to the elder miko, but she did not speak. The woman merely kept her head down.
Genmei did not press the matter further.
Genmei started to hum as she turned towards the small clay pot where fire danced. The way it danced mesmerized her, its every essence alive in its willfulness. Genmei lit the incense sticks, their delicate tips blossoming into tendrils of smoke, fragrant and wispy. She closed her eyes and allowed herself to be swept up in the gentle dance of the smoke as it curled and swirled, an ethereal waltz of devotion.
The world around her faded away as she began her sacred ritual. Holding the incense aloft, she first offered it to the kami, the spirits of the shrine, seeking their blessings and protection. Her whispers were soft, a heart's longing transformed into silent words carried by the fragrant smoke.
"O venerable spirits, o venerable kami, guardians of this sacred world, accept this humble offering! A symbol of my gratitude and reverence. May you watch over this land and its people, as you have done for countless generations. Guide us, protect us, and let your wisdom flow through us like the waters of a serene stream."
The incense smoke swirled and danced, ascending like a bridge between the earthly and the divine, a communion of souls.
Genmei then turned her attention to her own hopes and dreams. With each additional incense stick she offered, she silently whispered her aspirations to the spirits. It was a sacred dialogue, a conversation between her heart and the universe, a moment of pure connection.
With the final incense stick offered, she bowed deeply once more, her spirit lightened and her heart touched by a profound sense of peace. The incense continued to burn, its fragrant tendrils rising toward the heavens, carrying her intentions to the ether.
Once more, Genmei bows.
She stands and turns to the elder miko.
Genmei smiles.
Metallic scarlet pours from her hakui.
The miko’s eyes widened slightly.
“Lead me to the ancestral hall, please.”
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THROUGHOUT THE YEARS, THE SMELL OF INCENSE HAD BECOME A COMFORT. Throughout the passing years, the fragrance of incense had transformed into a source of solace. Just as the presence of the kamis in front of her, the smell of incense had become the means to find a safe zone. In her tender years, that aroma had often left her feeling queasy, prompting her to seek refuge behind her father's hakama, where she'd bury her face in its fabric.
The scent that emanated from her father's garment was a symphony of sweetness and tenderness, akin to the delicate fragrance of cherry blossoms in spring. That memory remained etched in her mind. Yet now, as she stood in the autumn of her life, Genmei found herself far removed from her childhood self. The scent was not as disagreeable as it once appeared; in fact, she dared to admit that she rather enjoyed it.
The sun's rays filtered through the dense canopy of leaves, casting golden lattices upon the moss-covered path. Birds sang sweetly, the gentle breeze whispered secrets of the forest, and a hush fell upon the world, as if nature itself held its breath in anticipation. Today was a beautiful day, she could admit.
The past few days were obtused by such gray clouds, though it did not rain. That perhaps relieved Genmei, for she would have to take the train rather than being able to walk. She after all enjoyed being able to walk. Though, had Satoru come with her, she was certain he would complain too much about it. He had always been like that.
An elder miko smiled when she caught sight of the young woman, dropping her broom as Genmei greeted her in return. Genmei could not help panic, but she could not stop the older woman as she led her body down into an elegant bow. A flush of red rushed through her, sweat palmed face. One of these days, Genmei wished that she wasn’t as well known as she was.
A long time ago, Genmei would have eaten the glory of being known. Yet these days, the attention is not warranted. However, it is beyond unavoidable. She purses her lips, sighing. Perhaps it might have been better had she convinced Satoru to come with her. Satoru would eat this attention to its bones, she was certain.
One can call it bad luck, he’s too saddled with missions.
But knowing the man, he was already sight–seeing.
Genmei sighed.
“It is good to see you, my lady.” The elder miko grins, standing upwards. Her hands clasped in a formal fold.
Genmei hastily bowed in return. “I am glad to be here. But you need not bow to me, you know? I am not a higher ranking priestess than you.”
The elderly woman shakes her head. “That is not true, my lady. You are a descendant, after all. You are touched by the sacred. To have you here with us, it is an honor.”
The young woman felt her mouth turn into a short line, the reminder of notoriety that she knew she will never be free from. The connection of the blood was what mattered in all clans. The thought of being from the direct echo of the founder, it is as though the founder touches you. It was almost like a blessing from kami. Genmei had never understood that.
She did not like it either.
The thought had made her feel like she was more alien than human.
A moment of glum echoes her aura.
“Are you here to pray, my lady?” The older woman’s voice pulled her from her thoughts.
Genmei nodded. “Before I pray my respects to the ancestral hall, yes.”
The woman led Genmei towards the inside.
Genmei moved with a grace and reverence that seemed almost as ancient as the shrine itself. When she could, she followed the ritual that had been passed down through generations with unwavering devotion. With her offering carefully placed in the big red box, she stood before the honden, the heart of the sacred place. As the sun's gentle rays filtered through the ancient cedars, casting a warm glow on the shrine, Genmei reached for the thick rope that hung beside the entrance.
The sound of the bell reverberated through the tranquil forest, a call that resonated with the spirits of the land. Bowing twice, she paid her respects to the deity, clapping her hands twice to signal her presence. In the sacred silence that followed, she felt the ancient energies embrace her, and her heart swelled with a profound sense of connection. With one final, deep bow, she conveyed her gratitude and reverence.
Her sand colored hair quivered against her back as she raised her body slightly. Genmei meets the golden eyes of the kami. She lowered her head, her lilac eyes closed. Genmei is feeling the waves of the kami whisper to her, unable to move for what seemed like hours. It was as though the kami was pulling her body downwards, to force her to submit. Her knuckles buck and close.
A huff of pained breath leaves her lips laboriously. There was always an expectation to submit an offering. To this kami, the cursed energy within her was the best one. It protected the dwelling of the holy abode, after all. From long ago, that had been the practice.
Lilac eyes shone against the kami’s face.
Sweat pears against her porcelain face.
Genmei sighed, exhausted in the fight.
‘You truly are a bitter one, aren’t you?’ The voice laughs, sending shivers down her spine.
‘I hate you.’ Genmei hisses back.
The voice merely continued laughing. ‘You’re far more interesting to tease.’
‘I am not lighting an incense for you.’
‘You’d do it anyway,’ The voice snickers dismissively.
Genmei snarls, knowing the voice was right. Genmei tried to stand up, but failed for a moment. A frustrated gleam in her eyes as her legs took ground. Whenever she visited the kami’s shrine, there was always such entitlement to her body. She could not fight a kami, that she knew. Her cursed energy was drained, but once she took some rest she knew she would be better again. Still, she was glad it was only at his altars where must feel this way. A small price to pay, the words of her ancestor a thousand years ago writes.
‘When has it ever been worth it to serve the powerful?’
‘Gojo Satoru isn’t powerful?’
She shakes her head. ‘I’m not his servant.’
‘As you say.’
Once she was able to gather enough strength, she took to walking. Despite the pain, she knew she could not look weak in front of the elder miko. The woman bowed to her once more, as Genmei moved gracefully, her steps echoing the rhythm of the shrine's ancient stones. The sound of the bamboo fountain ringing in her ears. Her light cerulean blue kimono danced against the white shawl covering her arms.
The elder miko led the way, all the while telling her of the shrine’s condition while they walked. Genmei could not speak, her strength only starting to return to her. Genmei sighed, slowly taking out the incense from her kimono’s safety. In her hands, she carried a bundle of fragrant incense sticks, each carefully chosen for their purity and significance.
As she reached the sacred courtyard, Genmei paused to bow deeply in respect.She stared at the bountiful piles upon the table. She approached timidly the offering table, a wooden structure adorned with offerings of rice, fruits, and flowers. The shrine seems to have offered it on her behalf. The estate must have told them in advance.
At its center lay an intricately carved incense burner, ancient and weathered, its beauty only deepened by time. Her mother had told her that they were the same ones from when the parent clan still existed in its power. Genmei carefully touched it. Memories were inside them, sealed tightly. She was sure. There was such energy in them. Genmei turned to the elder miko, but she did not speak. The woman merely kept her head down.
Genmei did not press the matter further.
Genmei started to hum as she turned towards the small clay pot where fire danced. The way it danced mesmerized her, its every essence alive in its willfulness. Genmei lit the incense sticks, their delicate tips blossoming into tendrils of smoke, fragrant and wispy. She closed her eyes and allowed herself to be swept up in the gentle dance of the smoke as it curled and swirled, an ethereal waltz of devotion.
The world around her faded away as she began her sacred ritual. Holding the incense aloft, she first offered it to the kami, the spirits of the shrine, seeking their blessings and protection. Her whispers were soft, a heart's longing transformed into silent words carried by the fragrant smoke.
"O venerable spirits, o venerable kami, guardians of this sacred world, accept this humble offering! A symbol of my gratitude and reverence. May you watch over this land and its people, as you have done for countless generations. Guide us, protect us, and let your wisdom flow through us like the waters of a serene stream."
The incense smoke swirled and danced, ascending like a bridge between the earthly and the divine, a communion of souls.
Genmei then turned her attention to her own hopes and dreams. With each additional incense stick she offered, she silently whispered her aspirations to the spirits. It was a sacred dialogue, a conversation between her heart and the universe, a moment of pure connection.
With the final incense stick offered, she bowed deeply once more, her spirit lightened and her heart touched by a profound sense of peace. The incense continued to burn, its fragrant tendrils rising toward the heavens, carrying her intentions to the ether.
Once more, Genmei bows.
She stands and turns to the elder miko.
Genmei smiles.
Metallic scarlet pours from her hakui.
The miko’s eyes widened slightly.
“Lead me to the ancestral hall, please.”
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THE DAY ENDED BEFORE GENMEI KNEW IT. The day had not felt real, but perhaps its all that will ever be reality for her. She shifts, careful with her side. The wound could reopen once more. There were no healers in the temple that day, most off aiding in missions elsewhere. The elder miko was more learned in stopping bleeding than restoring the flesh to what it was.
But it would be enough, until perhaps tomorrow. Shoko should be there by then. All she had to do now was make sure that Satoru doesn't notice. But Genmei was certain that he'd be home in a few days. She was certain he'd get distracted by his sight - seeing again. A small sigh releases from her dried lips. That she supposes is levity. Otherwise, he'd dig into her and never shut up.
Genmei was beyond exhausted, she just wanted to crawl to her bed and let herself rest for the day. The usage of cursed energy beyond her minimum was stupid. But with the knowledge that there was a special grade curse that appeared among the grade one curses, Genmei knew that her cursed weapons would not be enough.
As she stepped out of the shrine's sacred grounds, she tried to bow to the elder miko and the other servants of the temple. They had gathered to say goodbye to her. Genmei gives a small smile, whispering a reminder about the weapons she would be leaving behind. They need repair. Only a Mikoto would be able to do that for her, after all. By the time Ichiji arrived, the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows that stretched across the forest path. The world around her had transitioned from the vibrant hues of daylight to the cool, serene tones of twilight.
Genmei sighed as she got into the back of the car, its leather seats welcoming her with a comfortable embrace. She gave a small greeting, he greeted her back. The engine purred to life once more, and the vehicle began its journey back to the bustling city beyond the tranquil forest. The drive was a stark contrast to the stillness and tranquility she had experienced at the shrine. The city's lights came to life, and the sounds of life returned with a bustling energy.
Her thoughts drifted back to the day's visit, the rituals, the ancient spirits, and the connection she felt with the kami. It was moments like these that reminded her of the sacred lineage she bore, a responsibility she couldn't escape but had grown to appreciate. The scent of the incense still lingered in her senses, bringing her a sense of calm and clarity. The serene whisper of the Kyoto countryside began to fade away as she closed her eyes. She didn’t get much sleep last night, she supposed.
‘She was in my dreams again.’ Her eyes narrowed, thoughts of a smile far away flooding her for a moment. She shakes her head. ‘Haunting me too much, I fear.’
Before it was too late, she found darkness.
When she opened her eyes, Genmei found herself fighting against the beam of the city lights. Outside, the city buzzed with activity and life. and Genmei couldn't help but feel a disconnect from the urban chaos. For a moment, she wished she had stayed the night. Genmei had forgotten how busy the streets get when it's near the week’s end. For a moment, she found solace in the memories of the shrine, the serene forest, and the guidance of the spirits. As the car navigated the crowded streets, her thoughts remained anchored in the tranquil world she had just left behind.
“You must have been weary, Genmei-san.” The voice of her junior, Kiyotaka Ichiji, rings from the front of the vehicle. There was some concern in his eyes for her. Genmei sits up with a low groan. She could feel her hakui pristine against the movement of her body. “You immediately fell asleep.”
She sends him a reassuring smile. “I am well, Ichiji. Truly.”
“I heard Gakuganji–san sent you on a special grade mission.” A hint of concern in his voice. She couldn’t fault him. It has been much too long since she’s been in the field. "But there seemed to be more information unknown about it. It would have been much better if I postponed it until at least some observers were there to confirm more about it."
Genmei shook her head, yawning slightly. Her hands gently rested on her wide hakama. "Old man always did that to us when we were kids too. He used to leave out details. It's to see how well we'd do in unfamiliar territory."
Ichiji frowned. "Genmei-san, that's still not proper."
"It's fine." She snickers, waving her hand about. "That old fart is going to expect a long report on this. He'd berate me if I leave anything out."
"I still can't understand how it decided to stay that long in that abandoned shrine."
"Well, people still live in the town and they still have fears." Genmei huffs. "It was a perfect ground for growth. It adapted to the environment and grew stronger. And it was just waiting to be found. Observers couldn't have known how truly strong it truly was. Old fart was good to keep the information away. The observers would panic."
"Then I'm glad its dealt with, without you being injured."
"It got a scratch in, but that's not really a concern━"
Ichiji’s eyes widened slightly. “Genmei–san, you're wounded?"
“There’s nothing to worry about, Ichiji!” Genmei waves it off, giving a reassuring smile. “i''ve healed it up. Don't worry."
'How easily can you lie?'
'Shut up.'
'I'll talk how I like.'
‘I was just careless, is all.’
The voice snickers. ‘Careless? You were trying to be a hero.’
Her features hardened. ‘Can you leave me be?’
Another laugh. ‘Where’s the fun in that?’
“I’ll bring you to Shoko–san, right away!”
She shook her head. “Ichiji, there’s no need. Shoko should be heading home now, she needs rest—"
The moment stops when Ichiji’s phone rings.
Genmei purses her lips, a small contempt.
‘Gojo Satoru is calling.’
Genmei glares at Ichiji, her piercing lilac haunting him.
“Don’t tell him a word.”
THE DAY ENDED BEFORE GENMEI KNEW IT. The day had not felt real, but perhaps its all that will ever be reality for her. She shifts, careful with her side. The wound could reopen once more. There were no healers in the temple that day, most off aiding in missions elsewhere. The elder miko was more learned in stopping bleeding than restoring the flesh to what it was.
But it would be enough, until perhaps tomorrow. Shoko should be there by then. All she had to do now was make sure that Satoru doesn't notice. But Genmei was certain that he'd be home in a few days. She was certain he'd get distracted by his sight - seeing again. A small sigh releases from her dried lips. That she supposes is levity. Otherwise, he'd dig into her and never shut up.
Genmei was beyond exhausted, she just wanted to crawl to her bed and let herself rest for the day. The usage of cursed energy beyond her minimum was stupid. But with the knowledge that there was a special grade curse that appeared among the grade one curses, Genmei knew that her cursed weapons would not be enough.
As she stepped out of the shrine's sacred grounds, she tried to bow to the elder miko and the other servants of the temple. They had gathered to say goodbye to her. Genmei gives a small smile, whispering a reminder about the weapons she would be leaving behind. They need repair. Only a Mikoto would be able to do that for her, after all. By the time Ichiji arrived, the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows that stretched across the forest path. The world around her had transitioned from the vibrant hues of daylight to the cool, serene tones of twilight.
Genmei sighed as she got into the back of the car, its leather seats welcoming her with a comfortable embrace. She gave a small greeting, he greeted her back. The engine purred to life once more, and the vehicle began its journey back to the bustling city beyond the tranquil forest. The drive was a stark contrast to the stillness and tranquility she had experienced at the shrine. The city's lights came to life, and the sounds of life returned with a bustling energy.
Her thoughts drifted back to the day's visit, the rituals, the ancient spirits, and the connection she felt with the kami. It was moments like these that reminded her of the sacred lineage she bore, a responsibility she couldn't escape but had grown to appreciate. The scent of the incense still lingered in her senses, bringing her a sense of calm and clarity. The serene whisper of the Kyoto countryside began to fade away as she closed her eyes. She didn’t get much sleep last night, she supposed.
‘She was in my dreams again.’ Her eyes narrowed, thoughts of a smile far away flooding her for a moment. She shakes her head. ‘Haunting me too much, I fear.’
Before it was too late, she found darkness.
When she opened her eyes, Genmei found herself fighting against the beam of the city lights. Outside, the city buzzed with activity and life. and Genmei couldn't help but feel a disconnect from the urban chaos. For a moment, she wished she had stayed the night. Genmei had forgotten how busy the streets get when it's near the week’s end. For a moment, she found solace in the memories of the shrine, the serene forest, and the guidance of the spirits. As the car navigated the crowded streets, her thoughts remained anchored in the tranquil world she had just left behind.
“You must have been weary, Genmei-san.” The voice of her junior, Kiyotaka Ichiji, rings from the front of the vehicle. There was some concern in his eyes for her. Genmei sits up with a low groan. She could feel her hakui pristine against the movement of her body. “You immediately fell asleep.”
She sends him a reassuring smile. “I am well, Ichiji. Truly.”
“I heard Gakuganji–san sent you on a special grade mission.” A hint of concern in his voice. She couldn’t fault him. It has been much too long since she’s been in the field. "But there seemed to be more information unknown about it. It would have been much better if I postponed it until at least some observers were there to confirm more about it."
Genmei shook her head, yawning slightly. Her hands gently rested on her wide hakama. "Old man always did that to us when we were kids too. He used to leave out details. It's to see how well we'd do in unfamiliar territory."
Ichiji frowned. "Genmei-san, that's still not proper."
"It's fine." She snickers, waving her hand about. "That old fart is going to expect a long report on this. He'd berate me if I leave anything out."
"I still can't understand how it decided to stay that long in that abandoned shrine."
"Well, people still live in the town and they still have fears." Genmei huffs. "It was a perfect ground for growth. It adapted to the environment and grew stronger. And it was just waiting to be found. Observers couldn't have known how truly strong it truly was. Old fart was good to keep the information away. The observers would panic."
"Then I'm glad its dealt with, without you being injured."
"It got a scratch in, but that's not really a concern━"
Ichiji’s eyes widened slightly. “Genmei–san, you're wounded?"
“There’s nothing to worry about, Ichiji!” Genmei waves it off, giving a reassuring smile. “i''ve healed it up. Don't worry."
'How easily can you lie?'
'Shut up.'
'I'll talk how I like.'
‘I was just careless, is all.’
The voice snickers. ‘Careless? You were trying to be a hero.’
Her features hardened. ‘Can you leave me be?’
Another laugh. ‘Where’s the fun in that?’
“I’ll bring you to Shoko–san, right away!”
She shook her head. “Ichiji, there’s no need. Shoko should be heading home now, she needs rest—"
The moment stops when Ichiji’s phone rings.
Genmei purses her lips, a small contempt.
‘Gojo Satoru is calling.’
Genmei glares at Ichiji, her piercing lilac haunting him.
“Don’t tell him a word.”
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WHEN SHE SAW SATORU, SHE KNEW HE COULD TELL. But he did not speak it out loud. Instead, he smiled prettily at her as he gently placed the pink-haired boy into the front seat. The young figure appeared to be nothing more than a teenage boy, or so the young woman guessed.
Genmei pursed her lips into a flat line, recognizing that Satoru had found someone that peaked his interest. Still, she couldn't shake the feeling that this meant something had happened. A sigh releases from her lips, Genmei was certain that she would have to look through the report Megumi would write. The elders would surely use this against them, more so with Satoru. There was so much they needed to discuss when they find the time to be alone, as she had no doubt he had much to share as well.
Satoru quietly exchanged a few words with Ichiji as he carefully fastened the seat belt around the young boy. The car door opened on her side, and her dark hair echoed against her lilac eyes as she shifted slightly, fighting the urge to groan from the pain that seared through her. Her gaze met Megumi's eyes, which glistened and blinked with a mixture of relief and concern. Genmei's heart ached as she took in the cuts that marred his youthful face and body. He was so young, she thought, yet here he was, willingly thrust into the front lines of danger.
Genmei exchanged a knowing look with Megumi as the car door clicked shut, enveloping them in poignant silence as the unspoken worry and tension festered. Had it not been for the gravity of their situation, she might have snickered at the familiarity of it all. She could vividly remember the way Toji nii-sama's eyes beamed with the same shine.
Toji nii-sama used to be that way when he would train with her father, after being knocked down a couple of times. Her father would egg on the younger man, but he would try not to show much of it loss after loss. He would have a silent scowl on his face, but he would make sure it was tender enough to go unnoticed. Just to avoid the worry. Genmei was certain that Megumi was indeed Toji nii-sama's son. He was a true Zenin, a boy who's carrying the weight of that name in his back.
Megumi nodded at her as he entered the car and settled in on her left. She watched him place a shopping bag down and make himself comfortable, closing the door. The car's engine roared to life once more, and they left behind the destruction that marked their world. Genmei was certain that Yaga would scold Satoru for his reckless actions, but as she observed Satoru's demeanor, he seemed untroubled by it.
But Genmei knew better.
She sighed and leaned back, her mind drifting to Gojo Satoru. He was a man of many words, but when he fell silent, it held a different weight. In a way, even his silence spoke volumes, and if they had been alone, she knew words would be flying between them by now. But she understood the need to let things unravel at their own pace, and she didn't want to push the issue. Megumi, sitting beside her, seemed to share that sentiment.
Genmei turned her attention to the young boy sleeping in the front seat. He must have been quite impressive, she thought, to have captured the attention and care of the most powerful sorcerer of their generation. Satoru thrived on excitement, and Genmei knew that all too well. Yet it was his unmatched skill that set him apart. His eyes held a depth of knowledge that had not failed them thus far.
As the vehicle navigated through the city streets, Genmei gently reached over and placed a comforting hand on the pink-haired boy's shoulder. The boy stirred slightly in his sleep, reacting to the warmth and reassurance of her touch. For a moment, Genmei saw her own youth reflected in his vulnerability. Her voice carried a soothing tone as she whispered, "Don't worry. You're safe now."
The pink-haired boy, whose name remained a mystery to them, shifted slightly, feeling the safety of her presence. Genmei couldn't help but let out a small, reassuring breath. He was just a boy, perhaps yet to experience much of life. Despite the pain that gnawed at her, she felt a profound sense of responsibility towards this newcomer. 
She knew that the path of an sorcerer was perilous, and here he was, a teenager thrust into the frontline of a battle against the supernatural. It was a harsh reality they all had to confront. A bitter pit of worry gnawed at her, wondering how much of his youth would remain intact in a world defined by danger and darkness.
The rhythmic hum of the car's engine provided a backdrop to their thoughts as they continued on their journey. Genmei's gaze remained fixed on the sleeping boy in the front seat, her hand resting gently on his shoulder, offering silent reassurance. It was a fragile moment in the midst of a storm, a reminder of the innocence that could still exist in a world plagued by darkness.
As the cityscape gradually gave way to the open road, Genmei couldn't help but reflect on their shared responsibility. They were a motley crew of sorcerers, each carrying their own burdens, their own scars, both seen and unseen. The pain etched on Megumi's face and the heavy silence that hung between them were testament to the trials they had faced.
Yet they pressed forward, driven by a common purpose, a shared duty to protect the world from malevolent forces. Genmei knew that the path of an sorcerer was one of sacrifice and hardship, but it was also a path of honor. They were the defenders of humanity, standing between the known and the supernatural, often bearing the weight of the world on their shoulders.
The young boy in the front seat stirred once more, and Genmei's grip on his shoulder tightened, offering a sense of security in a world that offered so little. She knew that their journey was far from over, that they would face challenges and dangers beyond their imagination. With Satoru, she knew to expect that always. No matter the cost, he'd have his way. He'd do what would be right.
The car carried them further into the unknown, leaving behind the wreckage of their world, and into a future fraught with uncertainty.
Genmei knew that their fate was uncertain.
But one thing had always been clear to her.
They would face the front of danger together.
For bitter or worse, she stands with Satoru.
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IT WAS LATE WHEN THEY ARRIVED. A yawn, like a whispered secret, escaped Genmei's lips as they arrived at Jujutsu High. The long journey had taken its toll, and her thoughts were now consumed by the sweet embrace of sleep. With great effort, she straightened herself, a soundless groan escaping her lips as she opened the car door. Her eyes followed Satoru as he carefully lifted the slumbering boy onto his shoulder, Megumi trailing closely behind, still clutching the shopping bag.
Satoru offered some words to Ichiji, a playful grin dancing upon his lips as he closed the car door from the front. Judging by some of the reaction of the younger man, Genmei thinks he seemed afraid. More than usual, she would like to say. Genmei knew that Satoru now knows what happened to her. It was unusual for Satoru to forgo the speed of the bullet train, given his impatience, but circumstances had led them to this shared journey. Genmei had grown accustomed to Satoru's preference for her company, even during the most mundane of tasks.
Satoru, with the sleeping boy still nestled on his shoulder, bestowed a parting grin upon Ichiji, sealing their gratitude with an unspoken promise of returning the favor. The car door closed with a muted thud, and the vehicle moved away, leaving them standing on the threshold of their responsibilities.
"Is that his souvenirs again?" Genmei inquired, nodding towards the shopping bag.
Megumi confirmed with a nod, "He asked me to hold it earlier."
"Give it to me," Genmei insisted, extending her hand. "We'll go together. You can rest."
A faint crease formed on Megumi's brow as he hesitated for a brief moment, "But the kid—"
"We'll take care of him," Genmei reassured him, reaching for the shopping bag. She smiled warmly, her hand lightly touching his shoulder. "You've worked hard all day, Megumi-kun. Satoru put you to work again, didn't he?"
Satoru interjected with a mock complaint, "It wasn't as bad as you think, Genmei. Megumi's doing his job, you know?"
Ignoring Satoru's pleas for attention, Genmei's gaze remained on Megumi, her smile unwavering. "Go, Megumi. I'll share some of the moon cookies I got from the temple with you once we wrap up here, okay?"
"Genmeiiiiiii, don't ignore me!" Satoru's melodramatic whining was met with a roll of Genmei's eyes, and she returned her focus to Megumi.
The mention of the delectable moon cookies brought a sparkle to Megumi's eyes. He had always enjoyed those temple treats. He nodded in agreement and handed her the shopping bag. Genmei took a peek inside, spotting two, maybe three boxes neatly arranged within. The scent of Kikufuku mochi wafted from the bag, the confections still fresh from Satoru's purchase. Genmei couldn't help but wonder how Satoru managed to sustain himself with his insatiable sweet tooth. She shook her head, her amusement evident, and then turned to Megumi.
Her grip on his shoulder was gentle but carried a profound warmth. Silver-blue energy emanated from her being, transferring from her to Megumi, who felt the tension in his body begin to ease. The radiant energy seemed to coax his wounds into closing, a soothing balm to his injuries. It was a moment of respite.
"I don't think my energy is sufficient at the moment to heal you," Genmei offered an apologetic smile to the young boy. "But it should give you some comfort until you see Shoko tomorrow, hm?"
Megumi nodded in appreciation.
Genmei smiles, satisfied.
She pats his head. “Good job, kid. Get cleaned up and sleep.”
As Megumi Fushiguro looked away, his cheeks tinged with a subtle blush, it was a reminder of the gentle, introspective nature that Genmei had always noticed in him, even when he was just a small boy. Yet, like so many, he struggled to openly acknowledge it. There was no denying the traces of his father's influence in his character, a shadow that he couldn't fully escape. It brought to mind her own memories of youth, of the times when her elder cousin had looked down on her with an understanding gaze.
Megumi mumbled a quick "good night" and awkwardly thrust his hands into his pockets, quickly walking away. Genmei couldn't help but giggle as she watched his retreating figure.
"He's definitely Toji's son," she murmured to herself, a hint of amusement in her voice. She could see the man he was in the young boy, yet she could truly see how different they were. Megumi was truly warm, the seeping lake in the mellow sunrise. Genmei adored him, cherished him as though he was her own. One day, Genmei knew he would be the Zenin heir. Yet Genmei wished he could just be like this, a boy forever. Just be himself, just be Megumi.
The night sky, an exquisite canvas painted with countless stars, bore witness to their parting. Each twinkling light seemed to applaud their resolve and the bonds that bound them together, whether through blood or shared purpose.
With Megumi's departure, husband and wife continued on their path, the night shrouding them in a blanket of tranquility. The air was cool and soothing, a gentle caress that carried with it the secrets of countless nights. They walked side by side, their steps synchronized like a well-practiced dance, the weight of their shared duty and their unspoken understanding guiding them toward the staff dormitories.
In the quiet stillness of the dormitories, Satoru gently laid the sleeping boy with fuchsia hair on his own bed, tucking him in with the care of a guardian. The boy slumbered on, undisturbed by the transition. Genmei, her steps soft and deliberate, placed the shopping bag on the languid coffee table, her movements a testament to the exhaustion that gnawed at her.
It had been a long while since Genmei had set foot in this room, and she couldn't help but let her gaze wander, her eyes tracing the contours of the space. The memories of years gone by resurfaced, casting a warm, nostalgic light on her thoughts. The armchair in which she now reclined seemed as much a part of the room as the air and light that filled it, a fixture of comfort and familiarity that had stood the test of time.
In the quiet embrace of the night, the room came alive with a certain timeless charm. In a way, Genmei could only register the familiarity of it all. The moonlight, filtered through heavy curtains, spilled a silvery glow across the space, casting delicate shadows that danced across the wooden floor like spectral memories of the past. The room seemed to sigh in relief, as if exhaling the accumulated history of years long gone by.
The walls, adorned with faded floral wallpaper, bore the gentle marks of age, their colors muted by time, yet still holding an elegant grace that whispered of another era. A framed painting hung proudly on one wall, its vibrant hues rendered in soft, dreamy strokes, a portal to an artist's vision and a journey through the artist's imagination. The painting was a window into a world of serenity, offering an escape from the everyday.
A wooden bookshelf, standing tall against the far wall, cradled the stories of countless lives within its shelves. Dusty leather-bound tomes, dog-eared paperbacks, and well-worn classics leaned on each other for support, a testament to the voracious appetite of the room's owner for knowledge and escapism. Genmei's fingers absentmindedly brushed against the spines of these volumes, and the faint scent of old pages filled the air, a fragrance that spoke of endless adventures.
The armchair where Genmei reclined was a sanctuary of comfort. Its upholstery, once a rich burgundy, had faded over time, yet its cushions still bore the imprint of countless sitters, each one leaving behind a bit of their history. The soft creaking of the chair's aged wood echoed like a soothing lullaby as Genmei settled into its embrace, feeling its warmth and familiarity envelope her.
The room's windows, adorned with lace curtains, framed a view of the night outside. The silver moonlight bathed the world beyond, revealing the serenity of the garden below. In the distance, a gentle breeze rustled the leaves of old trees, their branches swaying in silent celebration of the night.
As Genmei closed her eyes and breathed in the room's distinctive scent, she felt a profound connection to the past. This room, with its muted colors, worn but cherished furniture, and the hushed symphony of memories, had become a sanctuary, a place where time flowed in a different rhythm, and where the whispers of the past intertwined with the peace of the night, creating a space that was both familiar and forever new.
She lets her fingers graze the edges of the chair, a hint of lilac gleam in her eyes transformed into a shade of reminiscing sorrow. She couldn't help but recall the days when the chair belonged to someone else, to two people who had made this room their own. It had been Satoru and another, someone whose memory lingered in the very fabric of the armchair.
‘Wasn't this his? Suguru liked this type of fabric.’ Genmei mused softly to herself, her thoughts tinged with a touch of melancholy. ‘Satoru kept this all this time, huh?’
Satoru, his characteristic cheekiness undiminished, settled on the edge of the armchair, leaning in close. He’s removed his blindfold. "You're definitely making yourself comfortable."
"Of course," Genmei replied with a snicker. "I'm exhausted, Satoru. I worked hard."
Satoru pouted playfully, his bright eyes dancing with mischief. "You're saying this as if I don't work hard too, darling. I worked hard today too, just like Megumi did."
A small laugh escaped her lips as she retorted, "Hm, yet to be seen."
However, the levity of their conversation was interrupted by a subtle pang of pain in Genmei's chest, which didn't go unnoticed by Satoru.
"The boy, Satoru."
"What about the boy?" Satoru inquired nonchalantly.
Genmei's brows furrowed, and her lilac eyes darkened with concern. "What about him? Is someone who you think could aid in your current project? The fingers?”
Satoru sighed, his playful expression betraying a hint of weariness. "You're making it seem like I'm doing a bad thing, darling."
Genmei shook her head. A somber look on her face. "I don't think its a bad thing. I just worry. He's just a boy. He's just like Megumi."
"Him being in our world is expected." Satoru sighed, looking at the sleeping boy's figure from where he was. "Well, especially with his interaction with the finger. He makes the perfect vesdel.
"I felt something when I touched him earlier," Genmei revealed to him, her voice tinged with worry. "Did he actually eat one of the fingers?”
“He admitted to eating it, Megumi saw it.” Satoru leaned back into the modest armchair, his playful demeanor shifting to one of contemplation. "Megumi has no reason to lie, doesn't he? Besides, I saw it for myself. The king of curses."
Genmei’s face fell. “So that’s why when I touched him—"
His gaze fixed on her face, his fingers drumming softly on the armrest. He looked intrigued. Having known the history, he would know why. He slyly smiled. “You felt the layers of his soul?”
Genmei nodded. “But his soul, it’s still more dominant. I’m not sure, Satoru, but as long as he could control it, there’s a chance that the king of curses wouldn’t over take him.”
“I gave Sukuna ten seconds before the boy took over.” he murmured, a stern look creasing his features. "I've got a feeling this boy's a lot more complex and interesting than what he appears to be. No one has been able to cage Sukuna as a vessel before. Well, not that anyone’s tried, really.”
“This is going to be a mess.” Genmei purses her lips. “We’ll have to deal with this, Satoru.”
Satoru nodded in agreement, his gaze fixed on the sleeping boy in the adjacent bed. “We will, you have my word on that.”
Silence engulfed them for a moment. 
Satoru let out a low whistle, his bright blue eyes reflecting a mixture of curiosity. "You really think he's connected to one of my 'projects,' as you put it?"
"Your projects and that boy don’t correlate." Genmei shakes her head, lips locked. "He just bumped into your project and now is forced to participate in our world. Like a cog in the machine, like the rest of us."
Satoru laughed, “You make it sound so scientifical, y’know!”
Genmei gave him a look. “The higher ups already complained about losing the item, Satoru. I got the message from your mother."
“And now there’s someone who can may be able to control it. Well, we still have to teach him.” Satoru retorts snidely, waving his hand at her. His eyes darted to the bed. He rubs the back of his neck. His eyes turned serious. “He’s going to be a target now, that’s for certain.”
Genmei hummed in agreement, her fingers slowly traced the top of his hand. Infinity is always off when they’re together. “We have to protect him, Satoru. We can't let him be in harm's way. No matter what. He's still just a boy."
He watched as his free hand rested upon her arm. “You don’t think I could protect him?”
With a fond smile, Genmei leaned back into the armchair, her fingers now wrapping against his own. "I do, Satoru. My faith in you is unwavering. I just hope you're not biting off more than you can chew. I don't want all of this to overwhelm you. You're threading a thin rope, Satoru. I just worry, as always."
Satoru's grin returned, laced with a hint of mischief. “I can deal with all of it. Especially those old geezers. Don’t worry about me.”
“I know you can,” Genmei fondly whispers back, slowly leaning her figure against his. “I worry too much, don’t I?”
“It’s not wrong to worry about people you love.” He says, lilac and cerulean meeting in a warm gaze. His hand squeezes her own. “We’re in this together, hm?”
The room was filled with a comfortable silence, the knowledge that they had each other's backs acting as a reassuring presence in the midst of their enigmatic circumstances.
Genmei finally let out a contented sigh, nodding. “I’ll talk to Gakuganji myself, if need be.”
“You really wanna waste more time with the old fart than be with me?” He pouts at her, causing Genmei to laugh.
“Do you wanna spend time with the old fart?”
Satoru looks away. “No way.”
Genmei laughs again, shaking her head. “In any case, they’ll not say no to me, you know this .”
Gojo Satoru knew that too well. Genmei was, after all, the pride of Kyoto Jujutsu High. Even during her student days, legends of her prowess and dedication had spread far and wide across the Jujutsu society. A proud scion of the most ancient bloodline, she was the embodiment of a world that Satoru couldn't fully grasp—a world steeped in tradition, a world where honor and duty ran deep in the veins of those who belonged to it.
Genmei carried that world within her like a precious heirloom, a living relic of ancient traditions and noble heritage. Her very presence, from the graceful way she moved to the dignified tone of her voice, was a reflection of the centuries of wisdom and responsibility that coursed through her veins. Her actions resonated with the echoes of a lineage that had shaped her into the formidable woman she had become.
It wasn't just her bloodline that set her apart; it was her unwavering dedication to upholding the values and honor of that world. Even as she had chosen to diverge from the path that had been laid out for her, she had done so with the utmost respect for her roots.
In the world of Jujutsu sorcery, her name carried weight and reverence, a testament to her skill, her knowledge, and her unyielding commitment. Yaga–sensei used to say that a Jujutsu sorcerer was deep inside, truly so alone. Yet despite it all, Genmei chose to be with him. Her loneliness matched his own, formed something beyond it. 
It was a testament to her strength, her resolve, and her unwavering belief in the path they had chosen. She believed in his cause, to change their world into something more. Gojo Satoru couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude for having her by his side, for her unwavering loyalty was a force to be reckoned with, one that strengthened their alliance in the face of all odds.
After all these years, she still chose him. Even when it caused her the world, she still chose him. She had become his most ardent constant. Pride swells in his heart, as it always did, when it comes to her.
Satoru's gaze softened as he examined her, finally letting his eyes fall upon the side of her stomach. "You got injured, didn't you?"
Genmei met his concern with a defiant look, attempting to downplay her condition. "Not a big deal."
At least Genmei thinks so. When she had been less experienced, injuries were normal. She knew it wouldn't change when she became a more experienced sorcerer. Still. she supposed Satoru expected more from her. She was after all like him, a special grade sorcerer. But it had been years. Sorcerery was the farthest thing from her mind. Training was the farthest thing from her mind.
She had been rusty from years of not being in the field like Satoru. Much too much had happened in the past ten years.
Genmei herself thinks that she was needed elsewhere. There was other ways to expel curses, there were other ways of supporting Satoru. Moreover, Megumi and Tsumiki needed her. Satoru needed her. Her family needed her. Who else would be there if not her? Still she can't help but think about the mistakes that had gotten her injured.
In the shadowed underbelly of an ancient, forgotten shrine, the air was thick with malevolence—a breeding ground for curses long stewed in bitterness and resentment. Gojo Genmei, her posture as sharp as the blade she wielded, moved with calculated precision through the dimly lit corridors. Her cursed weapon, a yari, gleamed with a sinister light, its shaft adorned with subtle engravings that whispered of old battles and victories.
The mission was clear: eliminate the special grade curse that had taken refuge here, a malevolent spirit that had grown too powerful, feeding off the stray emotions and dark histories embedded in the shrine's walls. Genmei, though usually unflappable in the face of danger, felt an unusual heaviness in her chest—a residual ache from recent emotional turmoil that she couldn’t shake off.
As she advanced, her yari pulsed with heavy cursed energy, drawing from her own reserves to manifest its deadly efficacy. She channeled her energy into the weapon, feeling the familiar tug at her core—a drain that she was well accustomed to managing during combat. The tip of the yari vibrated with the intensity of the power flowing through it, ready to strike down the corrupted soul that lurked ahead.
Suddenly, the air shifted, a cold gust brushing against her neck. It was a warning, a whisper of imminent danger. Genmei tensed, her instincts screaming for her to dodge. She pivoted on her heel, swinging the yari in a wide arc. The blade sliced through the air, meeting resistance in the form of a dark, amorphous shape that materialized from the shadows.
The curse, a grotesque amalgamation of despair and fury, howled in anger as the blade cut through it, dispersing part of its form into black mist. Genmei readied herself for another strike, her eyes narrowing as she searched for the core of the curse—the source of its power.
But in that moment, a flicker of distraction shattered her focus. A sharp, stabbing pain in her chest—an echo of the emotional wound that had not yet healed—pierced her concentration. It was a fleeting second of weakness, but it was all the curse needed.
With a vile screech, the curse reformed, lunging forward faster than shadows flee from light. Genmei attempted to react, to raise her yari in defense, but she was a fraction too slow. The curse’s appendage, sharp and oozing malice, struck, piercing her side. The pain was immediate and searing, a fire that spread rapidly through her veins, as the cursed energy of the entity invaded her system.
'Are you going to lose to this?' The voice in her head snickered at her. 'You call yourself a descendant of Hiromi?'
"You better shut up!" Genmei hissed back in pain.
Genmei staggered back, her hand clamping over the wound that now marred her side. The fabric of her kimono darkened with blood, warm and wet against her skin. Breathing heavily, she gritted her teeth against the pain, her mind racing to assess the situation.
The curse hovered before her, its form swirling with triumph. But Genmei, descendant of the Zenin clan, was not one to falter in the face of defeat. With a grunt of effort, she straightened up, her grip on her yari tightening. She could feel her cursed energy waning from the injury, each pulse of power now mixed with stabs of pain, but her resolve hardened.
Summoning the last reserves of her strength, Genmei whispered a vow through clenched teeth, a promise borne of pain and determination. "Not today," she hissed, her eyes blazing with a fierce, indomitable will.
With that, she lunged forward, her movement fueled by a mix of desperation and skilled precision. The yari sang through the air as it burst through with a dangerous amount of cursed energy. Genmei aimed for the heart of the curse, determined to end this here and now. Her pain became a distant echo, her focus narrowing to the point of her weapon and the dark core before her.
She will win.
Triumphant yet gravely wounded, Genmei had pushed her body and spirit to their limits. The final thrust of her yari had vanquished the special grade curse, a fleeting moment of victory that came at a steep cost. As the adrenaline that fueled her through the battle ebbed away, so too did her strength, leaving her exhausted and bleeding heavily.
She managed to staunch the worst of the bleeding using rudimentary first aid techniques she’d honed over years of combat, but healing her wounds completely was beyond her current capability. Overcome by fatigue and blood loss, she collapsed, the world around her fading into darkness.
When she awoke, the sharp sting of her wounds was a harsh reminder of the battle’s toll. Ichiji, a fellow sorcerer who had been searching for her after she missed their planned rendezvous, found her by the pond. Genmei had managed to clean much of the blood from her kimono and had temporarily stopped the bleeding, but her pale complexion and the grimace of pain that flickered across her face spoke volumes about her condition.
"I should take you back," Ichiji suggested with concern, eyeing her warily as she struggled to maintain her composure.
Genmei shook her head stubbornly, her voice a whisper of determination. "No, there’s a shrine nearby. I need to... to perform some duties there," she insisted, pushing herself to stand despite Ichiji’s protests.
"You need to rest, Genmei-san. You’ve done enough for today," Ichiji countered, but he knew arguing with her when her mind was set was as effective as trying to calm a storm with words.
She managed a weak smile, her usual resolve flickering in her tired eyes. "I promised Satoru I'd head home after the mission, but this... this is something I need to do."
Ichiji sighed, recognizing the stubborn set of her jaw, the same determination that had made her a legendary sorcerer. "He’s going to notice, you know. You can’t hide this from him forever. And then he would get angry at me━"
Genmei laughs. "It'll be fine. Don't worry too much. Just go and drive."
"Genmei-san━"
"Ichiji Kiyotaka━"
"Yes, yes, I'll do it!" She could see the panic on his face as he started to drive.
Genmei thinks that her request was reasonable.
Her husband's lips curl into a frown, he's displeased.
But she knows it's not how she had imposed her will.
"Ichiji told me you passed out the moment you got in the car," he countered, his voice laced with worry. Genmei's eyes hardened, and she turned her head to the side. "You should at least have told him about the injury and tell him to contact Shoko."
Genmei looked away, with almost a guilty face. 
"I did tell him about the injury."
"You didn't tell him the whole story."
"You didn't have to scare him." Genmei grumbled back.
"It's beyond a big deal," he insisted.
"I just had a tiring day—"
"Genmei," Satoru interrupted her, his eyes locking onto hers. The intensity of his gaze made her pause, and she refrained from arguing further. "Give me your hand."
Genmei hesitated, reluctant to accept his help, but Satoru reached for her hand, gently taking it into his own. She watched him warily as Gojo Satoru allowed his cursed energy to flow from his body and into her own. In that moment, she could feel her entire being being rejuvenated as his power surged through her. When he was finished, he smiled at her, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. He places a small kiss on her palm as she pulls away, horrified.
Genmei smacked his hand, agitated. "You didn't have to do that," she replied, hitting his arm. He chuckled, not taking her outburst too seriously.
"You wasted your cursed energy on me. This is stupid—"
Satoru didn't respond with words. Instead, he seized her wrist again, pulling her closer to him, their bodies pressed together. Genmei's lips formed a thin line, and her eyes met his, a mix of flustered emotions beyond understanding. It was a dance they had engaged in for years, the ebb and flow of their relationship, with Satoru knowing full well the power he held over her. Despite the time that had passed, he remained endlessly fascinated by her, intrigued by the depths of his connection to her, and enchanted by the mystery of their bond.
"I'd do anything for you," Satoru whispered against her cheek, his voice a gentle caress that sent shivers down her spine. "Anything."
Genmei couldn't help but smile, the weight of their shared history and the depth of their connection settling around them like a warm embrace. She leaned into his touch, savoring the closeness, the reassurance that they would always be there for each other in a world fraught with danger and uncertainty.
"You're insufferable, you know that?" she whispered to him, her fingers lightly tracing the lines of his face. 
Satoru grinned, his cerulean eyes dancing with mirth. "I’m glad to hear that, darling.”
In the quiet of that room, a sanctuary within the bustling storm of their lives, the night unfurled its velvety tapestry to envelop them. The world beyond the walls faded into obscurity, its clamor and chaos drowned out by the serenity they shared. It was in these moments, when all was hushed, that they discovered the solace they had long sought in each other's presence.
Their bond, forged through trials and tribulations, was a testament to the resilience of their long standing marriage. Time and circumstance had woven their stories together, threading their lives with the unbreakable ties of camaraderie and loyalty. It was a bond that had been tested in the crucible of adversity and had emerged stronger, like tempered steel. No one could ever impede on it. Not even if they tried.
As they sat together, bathed in the soft glow of the room's lighting, their gazes met, reflecting the depth of their partnership. Theirs was a connection that transcended words, an unspoken understanding that needed no affirmation. It was a source of strength that anchored them in the face of an ever-uncertain world, providing them with the courage to confront the unknown, side by side.
Genmei thinks that she would finally have a good sleep.
But as the clock turns and drifts, nothing did ever change.
She leans towards Satoru's chest, taking a deep breath.
At the very least, the present is fine because Satoru's in it.
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facts about the chapter
genmei hasn't partook in missions for near seven, eight years. she's been as inactive as tsukomo yuki, whom she's fond of.
genmei is one of the five special grade sorcerers. genmei herself was classified as such since entering kyoto jujutsu high.
genmei started hearing voices since her cursed technique manifested at six years old. the cursed technique she has was from her maternal line.
gakuganji was very strict with all his students, but most especially on genmei because her father was his favorite student. she always got the most dangerous cases because of gakuganji.
genmei was very close to toji and considered him her elder brother.
genmei is an only child and was very close to both her parents.
moon cookies is a reference to half-moon cookies. they're butter cookies and they're really good. the mikoto clan just adores said cookies and gives them out to little kids who go to the mikoto shrines.
genmei and satoru are megumi and tsumiki's adoptive parents. she's megumi's second cousin, making satoru a in law of megumi.
ichiji considers gojo satoru his primary source of stress, but because genmei is almost like satoru now, her anger is also very scary to him and can cause him stress when it does happen.
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1dficfests · 2 years ago
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aftgficrec · 5 months ago
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Hellooooo, I can’t believe this is open!1!1!!1 First of all, I wanted to thank you all so much for all the work you do!
I wanted to ask for fics about the twinyards pretending to be each other. Mainly light funny ones if you find them but any will do. Thank you so much!!!
Hi there, anon! Most of the light funny ones can be found in our previous ask for this. -A
NB: in longer fics this could just be a quick switch, so read them with that in mind
previous recs:
the twins switch 1 here
‘the glow in our mouths’ and ‘The Morning AUs Chapter 52: The Parent Trap AU’ here
‘The one with Kevaaron’ here
‘Aftg Youtube AU’ here
‘Forming a Family; Forging a Future’ here
you may also like:
Neil mistakes Aaron for Andrew here
twinyard mistaken identity here
‘If I Knew You’ here
aaron minyard is a little bit cursed series by BlueJay26 [Rated G, 2 complete works, Updated June 2023, Locked]
Part 1: Jeremy Knox Solves the Transmutation Question: Baffles Centuries' Worth of Alchemists [1429 Words, Twinyards Appreciation Week 2022] [Merriam-Webster] metamorphosis| \ˌme-tə-ˈmȯr-fə-səs\ : a change of physical form, structure, or substance especially by supernatural means // the metamorphosis of a perfectly nice teak table into gold (by your baby cousin who won't stop getting cursed) Or, Nicky endures the twins' shenanigans in every possible universe. **Written for Twinyards Appreciation Week, prompt - metamorphosis**
Part 2: AITA? No. Am I cursed? Very probably. [505 Words] I impersonated my twin brother to play a trick on his boyfriend. AITA?
AFTG Bingo 2k18: The Twinyard Card by exactly13percent [Rated T, Collection, Complete, 2018] 
Chapter 2: Pretend College is difficult enough to navigate without Andrew playing games with Aaron's best friend.
Two of a Kind by gluupor [Rated T, 9957 Words, Complete, 2019]
When Aaron didn't get offered an exy scholarship while Andrew did, they came up with a plan. Andrew would play exy and Aaron would go to class. No one would ever know that they were actually two separate people. What could possibly go wrong?
After Aaron goes to Andrew’s Press conference by @iserenademefan [Tumblr, 2018]
Andrew and Aaron pretending to be eachother by @offbrandginger [Tumblr, 2017]
angstier twins switch:
‘Give Me Another Minute (to Lay Here in Your Echo)’ and ‘another turning point, a fork stuck in the road’ here
‘Unlucky Lies’ here 
‘aparecium’ here 
‘Brother’s Best-Friend’ here
‘white walls’ here
‘Deals With Devils’ here (updated)
Doctor, What Doctor by AceSirenSinger [Rated T, 4081 Words, Complete, 2023]
And then, unfortunately, Aaron has an idea. The idea itself is almost not worth having. It is deeply unethical. It is the opposite of ‘do no harm,’ and it is not even guaranteed to work. Aaron actually thinks that this idea might be worse for his license than performing illegal care on a probable criminal in a back alley in the dark. No, Aaron thinks, it is undeniably worse. “You’re a survivor,” Aaron repeats. “You should already be dead, but you’re not. You should pass out sometime in the next few minutes, but I’m guessing you won’t.” Aaron squares his shoulders, makes himself say the words. “If I give you an address, can you get there? •• An AU where Aaron is a doctor, Andrew is FBI, and Neil’s gone rogue against the mafia. Neil needs medical care, and it really should be Aaron performing it, right? Right??
tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: major character injury, tw: blood, tw: violence, tw: needles
Your love is my drug by babyprincess675 [Rated G, 24524 Words, Incomplete, Updated June 2024]
Andrew Minyard’s life has been painfully mediocre for years since high school, nothing but guilt keeping him alive up until his twin brother invites him to his Christmas themed wedding in Alaska, where everything changes. Or Andrew gets invited to Aaron’s wedding after years of no contact and things go wrong.
tw: anxiety disorder, tw: suicide attempt, tw: overdose, tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: implied/referenced murder, tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: implied/referenced self harm, tw: implied/referenced torture, tw: violence, tw: alcohol
in a manner of speaking by likearecord [Rated T, 6335 Words, Complete, 2021]
In Andrew's defense, blind dates are terrible and almost all of Kevin's friends are even worse. Nine times out of ten, calling in a favor to get Aaron to switch and tank it for him would be fine. Unfortunately, Andrew found number ten.
Crossfire by RoseGold_En [Rated M, 18396 Words, Complete, 2018]
The year is 2073. Andrew and Aaron Minyard are twins born into a world with a strict one-child policy due to overpopulation. They take on a singular identity as "Adam Minyard", with only one of them allowed outside at a time. Siblings who are discovered are separated from their families and put into an eternal cryosleep. One day, Andrew disappears. Aaron and Nicky have to find him while maintaining the twins' cover. It's up to Aaron to find out who sold them out and why a bureau agent named "Neil" knows his brother's real name.
tw: vomit, tw: alcohol, tw: violence, tw: gun violence, tw: death, tw: choking, tw: blood, tw: involuntary outing, tw: fire, tw: needles
Secret twin royalty au by @professionalfangirl24601 [Tumblr, 2021]
When queen Tilda gave birth to male identical twins, she knew it could be a threat to her country's future stability. In order to avoid the brothers fighting for the throne, she decided to give one of them up. He would be raised by a maid and then imprisoned with an iron mask constantly covering his face. 
Backliner Andrew by @palmettofoxden [Tumblr, 2017]
Part 1: Andrew takes Aaron's place  Part 2: Andrew takes Aaron’s place - follow-up ideas  Part 3: Backliner Andrew 3/? 
aaron is fat and buff too!!! hc by @palmett-hoes [Tumblr, 2020]
they're deals on deals on deals. meta by @thespineoftherighteous [Tumblr, 2023]
Art
Minyards art by @lnmei
HAPPY TWINYARD DAY!!! art by @babaleza
Aaron and Andrew sand castle building art by @emry-stars-art
POV: You’re Riko and the Twinyards are burying your body. art by @/capt.christine on instagram
nerdy Minyards art by @/intradaya on instagram
Mindyards on defense art by @/kulartly on instagram
andrew & aaron sarcastic healing art by @oliviaillustrations
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oftlunarialmoon · 10 months ago
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Glitter, Stickers, and Crayons- How To Regression Journal for Beginners - Age Regression Series
Originally posted to www.onlyfunthings.org on June 11, 2018
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iao Lovelies! Today’s post is all about regression journaling- what it is, what it’s good for, how to start one, and some journal prompts. Now, if you don’t know what Age Regression is, please read our post HERE first. Now, let’s get into it!
What Is it?/What Is It Good For?
A regression journal is a journal that you write in / color/draw in when regressed! You can also make pages for yourself while you’re not regressed to do when you regress! I use my regression journal to help me regress when I can’t do it naturally. Sometimes you just need a lil push.
How to Start One:
Step 1- Acquire a Journal/notebook! It doesn’t matter what kind of notebook you get, because….
Step 2- Decorate! Cover the notebook with stickers or glitter or washi tape or drawings of whatever you like!
Step 3- Make some pages for yourself to fill out while regressed. You can print out like grade school worksheets or coloring pages and glue them in. Or wordsearches/crosswords! Or you can do what I did and write in a bunch of drawing/writing prompts!
Step 4- Use it! Have lots of fun using your imagination to make the journal amazing! You can glue or tape in cute things you find, put in lots of stickers, glitter, washi tape, whatever you like!
Journal Prompts:
-          Make an “About Me” page! Fill it out with your name, regression ages (if you know them), nicknames, likes and dislikes! Maybe even include or draw a picture of yourself!
-          Make a page with lots of big circles. On the top of the page write “Yummy Food! Draw your favorite foods in the circles!”
-          Make a page where you can draw cute clothes!
-          Make a page FULL of everything you can think of that you like! For example, your fave: color, tv character, dessert, book, food, animal, outfit, activity, pie, cake, stuffed animal, etc etc!
-          Draw the outline of a dress on a page (or a T-shirt!) Leave it for your regressed self to design it!
-          Make a “What’s in My Bag?” Page! Draw a big bag and let your regressed self draw what’s inside!
I hope you all like this idea! I love using this to help me regress and relax! 
Remember to Stay Awesome and Love Yourself!
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dailyunsolvedmysteries · 8 months ago
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The Body in the Fish Tank: the unsolved murder
In August 2018 a headless, hand-less torso was found hidden under a staircase inside a fish tank in the SoMa District home of 65-year-old Brian Egg. Two people were arrested, but then released for the murder of Egg. 
“When he suddenly disappeared, I knew there had to be something amiss there,” a friend of Egg’s said. He remembers that when Egg disappeared, the message on his phone said he was away on vacation - Suspicious, considering Egg never used his voice mail and the voice was not his. Neighbors also saw strangers in his home. His friend asked police to do a welfare check on Egg. They did, but it was only cursory. “No response at the door. And saw nothing suspicious,” said police. 
A few months later another frantic call to police, and this time, responding officers found someone in the house. A strange odour wafted through a locked room. Police found a body without a head or hands in a large fish tank. They arrested Lance Silva and another transient, Robert McCaffrey, living in the house. Both were charged with ID theft, financial crimes, and homicide. Through DNA, the mutilated body was identified as that of Brian Egg. An autopsy concluded he was murdered and died from blunt trauma. Lance Silva and his friend were later released.
The Brian Egg case began in late May 2018. That’s the last time that Egg was spotted in his South of Market neighborhood. A full timeline on the case is posted below:
Late May or early June 2018: Brian Egg last seen in his South of Market neighborhood, San Francisco police say.
June or July 2018: Egg’s brother, Devon Egg, says he phoned his brother and an answering machine picked up with a request to leave a message. He said his brother never used an answering machine and he didn’t recognize the voice on the machine. He called back and someone answered who gave his name as Nate. He said his brother would call him right back after he finished walking his dog. No one called back.
June 1, 2018: Court records show that a 2007 BMW was purchased for $5500 by someone who had identified themselves as Brian Egg from a dealership in Newark. A purchase document for the sale would later be found in possession of Lance Silva after he was arrested in connection with Egg’s disappearance.
June 15, 2018: The BMW purchased on June 1 was towed from 379 5th Street in San Francisco for parking in a no-stopping zone. It was retrieved later that day by two men, one of whom identified themselves as Paul Foran, the second was identified by police from surveillance video as Lance Silva.
Late July 2018: Police say they receive the first calls from neighbors reporting Egg’s disappearance. Officers respond to the home twice. They knocked on the door. Each time, there was no answer and the officers left.
August 2, 2018 Egg’s long-time neighbor and friend Scot Free makes a post on the social media site Nextdoor to alert neighbors. Neighbors expressed their concern and said they would also report the suspicious activity at the home to police. Strangers were seen coming and going from home.
August 4 or 5th, 2018: Neighbors say the third check by police apparently prompted the people living in the house to frantically clean. They observed soap suds coming out of the home and bleach was being used to clean the front of the home. Someone in the home had also painted part of the front of the home including a door.
August 7, 2018: Police say Egg’s sister filed a missing person’s report. They send officers out to the house for a third time. But again, after no one answers the door, they leave.
August 14, 2018: Neighbors call 911 after the private crime scene clean-up company Aftermath showed up to clean the home. Robert McCaffrey, 52, was arrested at the home. Neighbors say he had at least $1,000 cash in hand to pay the company for the job.
August 16, 2018: Police arrest Lance Silva, 39, in a nearby residential hotel. Both men are charged with homicide, ID theft, elder abuse and financial crimes. But the San Francisco District attorney’s Office eventually drops the charges pending further investigation. McCaffrey is freed. Silva is held in jail in Alameda County by authorities for a parole violation. Court records show he had a prior convictions for grand theft. The parole violation stemmed from identity theft and fraud charges. Police believe he was using Egg’s debit card.
August 17, 2018: After searching the home for four days, police find a human torso in a large fish tank that was hidden in the home. They seek DNA samples from family members in an effort to identify the remains.
August 23, 2018: Neighbors say that a round-the-clock surveillance of the home by police since August 14 ends.
August 28, 2018: San Francisco police hold press conference revealing details of the case for the first time. They defend not taking further action during those three checks on the home. They say there wasn’t sufficient suspicion break into the home but neighbors strongly dispute that.
August 29, 2018: Lance Silva appeared in court in Alameda County to face charges related to a parole violation.
April 24, 2019: Lance Silva released from jail after ‘sentence served’
May 2019: Egg’s death officially ruled a homicide by San Francisco Medical Examiner
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coochiequeens · 3 months ago
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Australia enough already. This is the fourth story from Down Under in a week.
By Genevieve Gluck August 29, 2024
A high-risk and serial sex offender who preys on children has been accused of running a child abuse ring from within a male prison in New South Wales. Media reports have referred to Dean Angus Bell, 31, as “female” on the basis that he began claiming to be transgender behind bars and adopted the name “Jessica Isabelle Rose.”
On August 27, Bell was arrested at Junee Correctional Facility following a four-month investigation into the production and distribution of child sexual abuse material among fellow inmates. He has been charged with eight counts of producing child abuse material, eight counts of disseminating child abuse material, and knowingly or recklessly directing a criminal group.
As reported by Daily Mail Australia, Bell referred to himself as the “Leader of the Pack,” with the “pack” involving a group of male inmates accused of sharing letters with each other which detailed graphic descriptions of first-hand experiences of sexually abusing children, along with plans to commit additional rapes upon release. NSW Police stated that murder was mentioned in one of the letters.
Bell, currently incarcerated for breaching an extended supervision order by accessing child sexual abuse material, is said to have run the group from his prison cell. He appeared in Wagga Wagga Local Court on Tuesday accused of running the child abuse ring and will return to court in October.
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But despite his lengthy record of sexually abusing children, Daily Mail Australia referred to Bell as a “notorious female pedophile” and “Ms. Rose” in their recent report – even though five years ago, a now-deleted Daily Mail article about Bell referred to him as a male.
Bell, who is officially classified as a high-risk sex offender, has been in and out of jail since the age of 18. In 2013, at the age of 20, he was found to have been using social media to groom a 13 year-old boy for sexual abuse.
In September of 2014, Bell contacted a 14-year-old girl, who he attempted to have convince her friend, another 13-year-old boy, to perform sex acts on him in exchange for $100, cigarettes, and drugs. Additionally, Bell was found in possession of child sexual abuse material, and had been taking photos of children in public.
Reduxx also discovered an X account from that period which appears to have belonged to Bell and uses a childhood photo of himself as a profile picture. Posts made to the account show his obsession with Justin Bieber, and Bell inviting followers to participate in video chats with him.
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The child sexual predator was then sent back to prison for a minimum of two years and was released on June 19, 2017, but within hours, was discovered to have again tried to establish contact with the same 13 year-old boy. In a text message sent to the boy’s friend, he described being “depressed” at not being able to see the child, and his contact sent him the boy’s phone number. The incident was reported to police by the boy’s mother after she found a text message Bell sent to her son.
Once again, Bell was sent back to jail for 13 months, and scheduled for release in July of 2018.
A risk assessment report on Bell’s behavior conducted by expert psychologists at the time concluded, “Compared to other adult male sex offenders, Bell’s score is in the 99th percentile,” labeling him a high-risk sex offender.
“It is concerning that, despite having spent 21 months in custody for interactions with persons under the age of 18, one of Bell’s first actions after release from custody was to ‘allegedly’ attempt to contact his victim,” the report read.
Disturbingly, the next year, Bell was found to be living next to a day care center, primary school and high school, prompting concerned residents to organize a petition to have him removed from the area. The petition received nearly 30,000 signatures.
Bell is not the first sadistic Australian pedophile to be referred to as a “female” by media, obfuscating his birth sex and misleading readers.
As previously reported by Reduxx, another Aussie predator who was found to be facilitating child sexual abuse while behind bars was similarly treated as a “woman” by both courts and the press.
Robert Gordon Cummins was in custody on child sex offenses at Perth’s maximum-security Casuarina Prison when he devised a scheme to establish a child sex trafficking ring in Thailand upon his release. Along with two other inmates, Cummins schemed to set up a doll-making business called “Little Angels” as a cover, with the intention of employing low-income women from rural areas in order to gain access to their children.
After he was released on parole in 2008, Cummins became the “pipeline” for carrying out the plan, and began researching properties for sale and information about false passports while contacting Thai mothers whose children were being considered for potential abuse. Cummins also sent financial contributions to the impoverished women to build up their trust.
In exchange for pleading guilty, testifying in court, and confessing to the plan, Cummins was handed a reduced sentence of two years and seven months. He was released the day after the trial ended in September 2012, but would go on to be convicted of further sex crimes in later years.
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astralscrivener · 1 year ago
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✨ fic directory ✨
i’ve created a post to keep all of my fics in one place. all fics can be found on ao3. (last updated may 4th, 2024)
major ongoing works
STEALING OUR OWN PLACE IN THE SUN
- voltron: legendary defender: a rewrite of vld seasons 4-8. - team focus, broganes, klance, adashi, romellura - rated M, graphic depictions of violence + other warnings in author notes - 22/45 chapters, 251k words (december 25th, 2022) - last posted: chapter 22: season 7, episode 3: elliptical orbit
AT SKYFALL
- voltron: legendary defender: canon-divergent au in which keith and shiro are captured by the galra at a coalition gala. things become more complicated when the team’s search for shiro turns up someone else: adam, shiro’s fiancé.  - broganes, klance, adashi - rated M, graphic depictions of violence + other warnings in author notes - 8/? chapters, 25k words (september 2nd, 2023) - last posted: chapter 8: division and discord
ABCS OF KLANCE
- voltron: legendary defender: oneshots, one prompt for each letter of the alphabet, focused on keith and lance’s relationship - variety of aus, some overlap with squad up (2017-19 modern au), mostly established relationship klance - 18 works, 87k words (may 4th, 2024) - a: artistry • b: brutality • c: comfort • d: defeat • e: elegance • f: faithfulness • g: grief • h: homelessness • i: information • j: jealousy • k: knell • l: loyalty • m: mercy • n: need • o: opportunity • p: pain • q: quest • r: rumor • s: sleep • t: trust • u: uncertainty • v: victory • w: worry • x: xenon • y: yearning • z: zero - last posted: lightning in a bottle (y: yearning)
other ongoing works
THESE 20S ARE RAWRING AND THESE DUNGEONS ARE DRAGONING
- voltron: legendary defender: modern au + d&d series started in 2020 as a stress response to quarantine - team focus, klance, adashi, romellua, hunay
• main work: the rawring 20s XD - chatfic that only updates if i think it will be funny - rated M, no archive warnings apply + other warnings in author notes - 5/5 chapters, 17k words - last posted: chapter 5: there is no easter bunny, there is no tooth fairy, (september 8th, 2022)
- other works include klance-centric oneshots + snippets of the group’s ongoing d&d campaign - 5 works, 37k words - last posted: midnight into morning coffee (february 7th, 2024)
VLD FIC REQUESTS
- voltron: legendary defender: oneshots across a variety of aus written in response to prompts from friends and followers - variety of ships, but mainly klance and adashi - some overlap with squad up  - 15 works, 92k words (july 8th, 2023) - last posted: distraction
major completed works
DECEIT SO NATURAL
- voltron: legendary defender: canon-divergent trilogy in which lance and keith fool their way behind enemy lines and onto lotor’s ship to steal vital information on the galra empire—only for lotor to become far more dangerous than anyone anticipated. - mainly klance, extremely one-sided lancelot - written before gay shiro reveal + age discourse, contains side shallura - 3 works, 315k words - completed june 15th, 2018
• WHERE PEOPLE GO TO DIE - lotor mistakenly believes that lance is a galra soldier spying on the paladins, and invites him to return home. keith follows him undercover as a prisoner, and quickly draws lotor’s ire as things spiral rapidly out of control. - rated M, graphic depictions of violence - 14/14 chapters, 49k words - completed july 9th, 2017
• DYNASTY DECAPITATED - lotor becomes vindictive after having been played for a fool by team voltron, and the team struggles to hold the voltron alliance together while fending off his rapid advances. meanwhile, keith and lance explore a new stage of their relationship and learn exactly what the other means to them. - rated M, graphic depictions of violence - 18/18 chapters, 67k words - completed august 7th, 2017
• STARS GO DOWN - lotor has captured lance and sentenced keith to death halfway across the universe. lance struggles to hold onto himself as he plays the role of an amnesiac, while keith attempts to fight his way back to the team, alone. meanwhile, the team, down two lions and two paladins, scrambles to bring keith and lance home amidst betrayals and tumult in the voltron alliance. - rated M, graphic depictions of violence, temporary major character death + other warnings in author notes - 37/37 chapters, 198k words - completed june 15th, 2018
SQUAD UP
- voltron: legendary defender: modern au written from 2017-19 to cope with the horrors of being in high school and the transition into college - written before gay shiro reveal + age discourse, contains side shallura and shiro/allura/matt - 25 works, 561k words - completed may 10th, 2019
• main work: squad up - chatfic chronicling the gang’s last year of high school - rated M, no archive warnings apply + other warnings in author note - 140/140 chapters, 327k words - completed june 15th, 2018
• main work: a midsummer night’s meme - chatfic chronicling the gang’s last summer before college - rated M, no archive warnings apply + other warnings in author note - 27/27 chapters, 79k words - completed august 31st, 2018
• main work: because guys like us are cool in college - series of oneshots/snippets following keith and lance’s freshman year of college - rated M, no archive warnings apply + other warnings in author note - 84/84 chapters, 83k words - completed may 10th, 2019
LIGHT UP THE PATH (THROUGH A SKY FULL OF STARS)
- voltron: legendary defender: 28 oneshots completed for klance au month february 2019. - klance - variety of aus, including but not limited to modern au, canon-divergent/other paladinsverse, fantasy au, and more - rated M, creator chose not to use archive warnings + other warnings in author note - 28/28 chapters, 49k words - completed february 28th, 2019
additional oneshots not mentioned here can be found on archive of our own ✨ other writing (including drabbles, snippets, and prompts from tumblr ask games) can be found in my writing tag ✨
happy reading!
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justinspoliticalcorner · 1 month ago
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Emily Singer at Daily Kos:
A new poll released on Tuesday found that a majority of Americans believe former President Donald Trump would sign a national abortion ban into law, a sign that his desperate attempt to have it both ways on the abortion issue is not working. The Navigator Research survey found that 51% of Americans believe Trump would sign a federal abortion ban, including 49% of independent voters who could be decisive in deciding a close election. The poll also found that a whopping two-thirds think Trump believes that abortion should be illegal in all or most cases—even though 64% of Americans believe abortion should be legal in all or most cases. The poll is a warning sign for Trump, who has been desperately trying to thread the needle on the abortion issue since the Supreme Court overturned Roe v. Wade in June 2022, paving the way for Republican-controlled legislatures to ban abortion at any stage of pregnancy. Currently, 21 states ban abortion before fetal viability, with seven states banning the procedure in almost all circumstances, according to The New York Times.
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Trump has bragged multiple times about being responsible for the end of Roe. “After 50 years of failure, with nobody coming even close, I was able to kill Roe v. Wade, much to the ‘shock’ of everyone,” Trump wrote on his Truth Social social media platform in 2023, adding that he “put the Pro Life movement in a strong negotiating position” to ban abortion across the country. “What I did is something—for 52 years they’ve been trying to get Roe v. Wade into the states. And through the genius and heart and strength of six Supreme Court justices, we were able to do that,” Trump said again at the Sept. 10 presidential debate against Vice President Kamala Harris.
But Trump has also tried to claim that he wouldn't sign a national abortion ban into law—even though he’s advocated for a national abortion ban in the past.  “Everyone knows I would not support a federal abortion ban, under any circumstances, and would, in fact, veto it, because it is up to the states to decide based on the will of their voters,” Trump wrote in a post on X. That is not the position Trump had when he was in office. In 2018, Trump told people gathered at the March for Life—an annual anti-abortion march in Washington, D.C.—that he wanted Congress to pass a national abortion ban.  “​​I’ve called on Congress—two of our great senators here, so many of our congressmen here—and called upon them to defend the dignity of life and to pass legislation prohibiting  late-term abortion of children who can feel pain in their mother’s womb,” Trump said in a speech at the March for Life, referencing the 20-week abortion ban legislation that Republican Sen. Lindsey Graham of South Carolina introduced.
[...] “Everything is wrong with our country and nothing’s right and all they talk about is abortion,” Trump moaned at a September campaign rally, whining that “the fake news keeps saying women don’t like me.” He later said that if he wins women, “will no longer be thinking about abortion”—a bizarre and absurd comment as women will continue getting pregnant and needing reproductive freedom even if Trump wins. Harris, meanwhile, has made her support for reproductive freedom a cornerstone of her campaign. She promised that if elected, she’d sign a law restoring the protections Roe provided if Congress puts it on her desk.  Her campaign has been running ads highlighting Trump’s anti-abortion record. And at her rallies, she has been telling the story of Amber Thurman, a Georgia woman who died because she did not receive prompt abortion care.  “Donald Trump still refuses to take accountability, to take any accountability, for the pain and the suffering he has caused," Harris said at a rally in Atlanta on Oct. 20.
A poll from Navigator Research conducted between October 3rd and 7th reveals that a majority of voters would expect Donald Trump to sign a national abortion ban of some kind if he is elected.
Want to prevent such a ban from ever happening? Vote Kamala Harris and Democrats down the ticket.
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mariacallous · 2 months ago
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Through the twists and turns of the U.S. presidential race, immigration has remained one of voters’ top concerns. Former President Donald Trump has consistently made allegations about the supposed danger posed by migrants, including repeating a false claim that Haitians in Ohio were eating Americans’ pets. Meanwhile, Vice President Kamala Harris’s campaign has touted the sharp drop in migrant encounters at the U.S. southern border in recent months as a sign of the White House’s control over the issue.
U.S. authorities’ encounters at the U.S.-Mexico border—when a migrant is apprehended by Border Patrol before they are generally expelled or allowed to enter asylum proceedings—fell from 249,741 in December 2023 to 58,038 in August. But while the White House has taken some unilateral steps to lower those numbers—such as a June presidential proclamation that severely restricted the ability to seek asylum at the border���Harris and U.S. President Joe Biden may owe just as much to countries such as Mexico and Panama.
In coordination with the United States, Mexico and Panama have constructed their own new barriers to northward migration in the last year. Those include a busing campaign to move migrants southward within Mexico, as well as fencing and deportation flights to tighten up the Panama-Colombia border. After Mexico stepped up the current campaign in January, U.S. border arrivals dropped by a whopping 50 percent in one month.
The chaotic discourse surrounding immigration in the United States obscures a broader story: The Western Hemisphere boasts an increasingly synchronous approach to managing migration. Through negotiations with Latin American countries, the Biden administration has helped develop a regional strategy that goes beyond enforcement to include steps such as creating new legal pathways for labor migration. The approach has won praise from organizations such as the Inter-American Development Bank and the U.N. Refugee Agency, even as migrant rights groups have also criticized some of its tactics.
At its core, the hemispheric strategy is straightforward, said its coordinator on the White House National Security Council, Marcela Escobari: “creating consequences for irregular migration—and for the smugglers preying on vulnerable migrants—while creating alternative lawful pathways.”
Before the recent decline in migrant encounters at the U.S. southern border, authorities were wrestling with a record influx; encounters soared to more than 2 million in both 2022 and 2023.
This increase has multiple causes. More than 7 million people have fled Venezuela in the last decade. Most reside in Latin America, while others have ventured toward the United States. Cuba’s economic crisis, meanwhile, prompted its largest emigration wave in history between 2022 and 2023. People have also fled violence and poverty in countries such as Haiti and Ecuador. And some migrants reach the U.S. border from starting points beyond the Western Hemisphere, having flown to Latin America from countries such as India, China, and Afghanistan to trek northward.
Smugglers often play a major role in encouraging migrants. “They sell the route like it’s adventure tourism,” said Ronal Rodríguez, a migration expert at the University of Rosario in Bogotá. Thanks in part to organized crime groups that see migrants as a revenue stream, the Darién Gap—the dangerous jungle border between Colombia and Panama—went from being considered mostly unpassable to becoming a migrant highway since the COVID-19 pandemic.
Historic migration flows have strained Latin American countries and their asylum and refugee systems for years. So governments started talking. In 2018, 11 Latin American countries gathered in Quito, Ecuador, to launch a series of negotiations on assisting Venezuelan migrants, pledging steps such as granting them legal status in host countries and connecting them with international aid.
Then, at the 2022 Summit of the Americas in Los Angeles, 19 Latin American and Caribbean countries along with Canada and the United States signed on to a U.S.-conceived pledge for multipronged migration cooperation that included boosting enforcement, expanding legal pathways for migration, and stabilizing migrant populations where they currently reside.
The LA Declaration was conceived to apply to migrants of all nationalities, but some of the clearest examples of how it works in practice pertain to Venezuelans.
Countries such as Mexico, Costa Rica, and Belize have introduced visa requirements for Venezuelan visitors since 2022—an example of an enforcement move meant to deter illegal migration. But since October 2022, some Venezuelans have been able to apply to fly into the United States under a temporary protection mechanism called humanitarian parole, a new legal pathway. To stabilize migrant populations, the United States helps fund aid for displaced Venezuelans living in Colombia to discourage further migration.
The fact that the talks for the LA Declaration included countries from Chile to Canada marked a new chapter in Western Hemisphere diplomacy, said Diego Chaves-González of the Migration Policy Institute. Smaller regional blocs such as the Caribbean Community and Mercosur had in the past mostly conducted migration negotiations internally; now, they are swapping strategies. “These bubbles, in terms of migration, have burst,” Chaves-González said.
As a broadly defined strategy, the LA Declaration includes signatories that sometimes disagree about the fine print. Latin American countries have occasionally chafed at U.S. demands for greater migration enforcement in the hemisphere.
Even after Colombia, Panama, and the United States announced a joint campaign to “end the illicit movement of people” through the Darién Gap in April 2023, Colombian President Gustavo Petro told the New York Times that it was not his goal to stop migration through the gap; he said he would not send “horses and whips” to address a problem that Colombia did not create and instead blamed U.S. sanctions on Venezuela for exacerbating the issue. (The campaign ended after two months with little change on the ground.)
Even so, Petro has gone along with other tenets of the LA Declaration, such as allowing the U.S. government to screen certain migrants in Colombia for refugee resettlement and refer them to information about other lawful routes via a program called the Safe Mobility Initiative.
The declaration’s goal of adding legal pathways has earned especially strong enthusiasm among Latin American governments. It has also allowed for a conceptual innovation, Chaves-González said: connecting migration management with countries’ labor market needs.
“Today, the labor force of the United States would be rapidly shrinking without immigration,” said George Mason University economist Michael Clemens, who advised the Biden administration on migration policy between 2021 and 2023. In Mexico, some of the country’s largest employers are cooperating to recruit migrants and refugees to fill their workforce needs. And in Colombia, migration was in large part responsible for saving the country’s coffee and flower industries over the last five years, Chaves-González said.
Voters often don’t realize migrants’ positive impact on host economies, Clemens said, because of incorrect measurement and false stereotypes. For a more complete accounting, he pointed to a July Congressional Budget Office estimate that the U.S. immigration surge since 2021—composed of groups such as asylum-seekers, undocumented people, and those admitted through executive parole—will add some $9 trillion to the economy over the next decade.
Eyeing not only humanitarian principles but also economic benefits, the Biden administration has paroled some 530,000 Cubans, Haitians, Nicaraguans, and Venezuelans into the United States since 2022. Washington also worked with Guatemala, Honduras, and El Salvador to grow the number of temporary H-2 work visas issued to their citizens, from 9,800 in 2021 to around 27,000 in 2023.
Mexico, meanwhile, has issued work authorization to more than 17,500 asylum-seekers since 2022 and created an online platform to connect migrants with jobs. A nascent U.S. program called Labor Neighbors also aims to build a matching system between workers and jobs throughout the hemisphere, U.S. Homeland Security Advisor Elizabeth Sherwood-Randall said on Sept. 17.
Mexico has been an especially vocal advocate for new legal pathways. In a high-stakes December 2023 meeting where U.S. officials requested Mexican help stopping migrants moving northward, Mexican officials pushed for increased legal migration routes, they later wrote.
“Where we have to place our bet,” then-Mexican Foreign Secretary Alicia Bárcena said in June, “is on regular pathways for labor migration.”
The LA Declaration has gained praise inside and outside the Western Hemisphere. U.N. High Commissioner for Refugees Filippo Grandi hailed a “growing convergence of views” in the hemisphere on migration, while the Danish and Swiss governments have funded research discussing whether the Safe Mobility Initiative could be replicated in Europe. “The current U.S. government has sought to create a positive agenda with the region when it comes to managing these [migrant] flows that are somewhat inevitable,” Brazilian diplomat Carlos Márcio Cozendey said.
Despite those accolades, some migration and human rights experts have also criticized actions taken under the scope of the declaration, which they say chip away at the international right to asylum.
Hemispheric actions since 2022 have in practice included more steps to restrict migration pathways than to create new ones, the University of Rosario’s Rodríguez said. New legal pathways often have strict cutoff dates, nationality requirements, fees, and documentation needs. Biden’s June proclamation was transparent about its intent to make it harder to claim asylum at the U.S. border, broadly restricting migrants’ eligibility for the second time in just over a year.
“With the Los Angeles Declaration, a lot of countries that had a policy of migrant reception are assuming the U.S. posture of migrant containment,” Rodríguez said. Chile, for example, announced “supposed pathways for formal migration, but people in humanitarian need can’t fulfill the requirements because they lack documents like passports,” he added.
Biden administration officials have pushed back against criticism of Washington’s border tightening. The U.S. asylum system “is not built for a higher volume of people” and the way it was being used by migrants was “destabilizing,” Homeland Security Secretary Alejandro Mayorkas said in September.
Strains on asylum systems across the world have led policymakers to increasingly bypass them in favor of other methods for handling protection-seeking migrants, Migration Policy Institute researchers noted in a July report. That includes the Biden administration’s use of humanitarian parole for certain Cubans, Haitians, Nicaraguans, and Venezuelans who might have otherwise tried to seek asylum at the border. The researchers argued for shifting “the focus of protection responses away from an exclusive reliance on territorial asylum and toward a diversified set of policy tools.”
While the U.N. Refugee Agency has encouraged the United States’ and its neighbors’ efforts “to develop a comprehensive response to forced displacement in the hemisphere,” it has also “expressed concern about measures that introduced restrictions on the right to seek asylum, potentially leaving many individuals in need of international protection without viable means to reach safety and at risk of being returned to danger,” a spokesperson said in a statement.
As the U.S. election approaches, the biggest question around regional migration cooperation is how much would survive a potential Trump presidency. Trump has remained neck and neck with Harris in polls as he pledges to carry out mass deportations, “suspend refugee resettlement,” and scrap an app that the Biden administration developed to allow some migrants to register for asylum screenings.
If Trump carries out an anti-migrant crackdown, “I do not think Mr. Trump is going to care, frankly, whether Latin American and Caribbean countries—or anybody else sending refugees and irregular migration—may be upset about this,” said Ronald Sanders, Antigua and Barbuda’s ambassador to the United States and the Organization of American States.
While Trump could deal a heavy blow to the current approach, much too depends on other countries in the Western Hemisphere. It was during Trump’s presidency that countries such as Colombia and Brazil started to lead cooperation on hosting displaced Venezuelans despite the White House’s relative lack of engagement on the issue.
In 2018, Colombia granted regular status to nearly half a million Venezuelans, kicking off a wave of similar measures in other South American countries. The same year, Brazil launched a program to connect Venezuelan migrants with jobs that has since transferred more than 100,000 people from border areas. With help from both the government and private sector, Cozendey, the Brazilian diplomat, said Venezuelans “are absorbed around the country without turning into a problem.” The program has survived center-right, far-right, and left-wing governments.
Late last month in New York City, LA Declaration countries announced the creation of a new technical secretariat to ensure their work continues into the future. Colombia was appointed the group’s rotating chair for 2025.
“We have very important progress” in joint responses to migration, Colombian Foreign Minister Luis Gilberto Murillo said. “But still we have a lot of challenges.”
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anthroxlove · 1 year ago
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AMBER RESTARTS X FROM ITALY After a long silence, Amber Heard returns with a film, presented at the Taormina Film Festival. At the center of the plot is a woman who is not believed. Just as it happened to her, who narrated domestic violence and was the subject of a hate campaign during the trial pitting her against ex Johnny Depp, triumphantly welcomed at Cannes only a short time ago By Enrica Brocardo
A little more than a year after the end of the defamation trial that had seen Amber Heard and ex-husband Johnny Depp confront each other in the courtroom in Fair- fax, Virginia, and ended with the star's victory, the actress chose the Taormina film festival for her first public appearance. Her new film, In the Fire, or In the Fire, premiered June 24, accompanied by Heard, who walked the red carpet that evening. Last May, on the other hand, it had been Johnny Depp's turn to indulge in a crowd at the Cannes Film Festival, where Jeanne du Barry - The King's Favorite, in which he plays France's King Louis XV, had been chosen as the opening film. Awaiting him was a winner-take-all reception, where it was the seven-minute standing ovation at the screening rather than sympathy for Amber that weighed in. Yet this collective takedown somewhat contrasts with the entire court story, which actually ended in a draw of sorts. It is true that, in America, she was found guilty of defamation for an editorial she wrote in 2018 in The Washington Post newspaper in which she spoke about the harassment and violence she had suffered (but never mentioned her ex-husband's name). But it is also true that Depp had lost his previous lawsuit against the British newspaper The Sun, which, again in 2018, called him a "wife beater." Many wondered why two such similar prosecutions could end with two opposing verdicts. One of the reasons, according to an analysis by British lawyer specializing in Media Law Mark Stephens, is that while in Britain the decision was made by a judge, in the United States it was a people's jury that convicted Heard. "It reflected the judgment already made by the public opinion, which, from the very beginning of the trial, had stood up for Depp," the expert explained. Another reason would be that the judge in the trial against the Sun had defused the strategy of the plaintiff's lawyers, namely to prove that Heard had lied on a few occasions in order to undermine his credibility, and had focused rather on the evidence of the incidents of violence against his wife. In Fairfax, conversely, Depp's lawyers had a free hand in discrediting Heard. Moreover, not only in the eyes of the jury, but of the world inter- not because the trial aired live on the web, resulting in a hate campaign against the actress that, a few months later, prompted her to leave Hollywood and move with her 2-year-old daughter Oonagh to live in Spain. Meanwhile, late last year, the two exes reached an agreement whereby she would no longer have to pay over $10 million in compensation, but "only" $1 million, which the actor, in turn, said he would donate to charity. At the same time, alongside the actress, associations against gender violence and feminists lined up with an open letter (see opposite page) also signed a few days ago by French writer Annie Ernaux, who will be awarded the Nobel Prize in 2022. In the Fire, which will hit theaters in the fall, is a supernatural thriller of sorts: the story of a psichiatrist who in the late 1800s is called in to take care of a child that people believe possessed by the devil. She tries to pit science against superstition but, even as a woman, is not believed. A more muted return to the scenes than that of Depp, who also recently signed a contract with a luxury brand. In short, refinding her place in Hollywood, despite the release of Aquaman and the Lost Kingdom next December, promises to be more complicated for Heard. [ The open letter supporting Amber can be read here. ]
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putrefawn · 11 months ago
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What is happening in Sudan: A Timeline
2018 - In December 2018, the economic decline in Sudan, along with escalating costs of bread and fuel, the unavailability of money in banks and ATMs, served as significant catalysts prompting Sudanese people to protest all over the country against the regime of Omar Al-Bashir. (known as Kezan). Omar Al-Bashir's 30-year dictatorship was marked by a reign of oppression and atrocities. His administration perpetrated heinous acts, including the Darfur genocide and the civil war in South Sudan. In these conflicts, they deployed militiamen (Janjaweed, RSF now) who engaged in a range of crimes, from ethnic cleansing to acts of rape and looting, leaving a devastating impact on these regions and others.
2019 - After four months of protests, in April 2019, a coup led by the military against Omar Al-Bashir was declared. Al-Bashir was arrested, and a TWO YEAR Transitional Military Council (TMC) was announced until a new CIVILIAN administration is established. Even after overthrowing the regime of Omar Al-Bashir, the Sudanese people didn't trust the military due to the presence of Kezan among them. So the people decided to conduct a sit-in at the army headquarters in Khartoum, the capital and kept protesting in other states for a civilian-led government. The sit-in continued for 2 months. In June 2019, during the last ten nights of Ramadan, the TMC and the Rapid Support Forces (RSF) initiated a lethal assault on civilians, resulting in death of over a 100+ people, 600+ injured 40 bodies found at the shore of the Nile River and countless cases of rape and sexual assault. That attack is now known as the massacre of the army headquarters (مجزرة القياده العامة). During that period, the TMC and RSF imposed a media blackout in Khartoum by shutting down the internet to commit their crimes in the dark. In the face of adversity and in honor of the fallen martyrs of the massacre, the resilience of the Sudanese people intensified, triggering marches that drew millions and widespread acts of civil disobedience. World wide marches for Sudan were also organized by the Sudanese diaspora. Since 2019, persistent protests have called for a civilian-led government free from Kezan and RSF influence. Unfortunately, despite the efforts of numerous organizations advocating for this change, it has not been done. For five years, the call for freedom continued, during this time, clashes and atrocities by the RSF and TMC persisted. Incidents of killing civilians, looting houses, rape, sexual assault, and various other crimes throughout Sudan.
2023 - The conflicts in Sudan began on April 15th, escalated into a full-scale war between the Sudanese Army Forces (SAF) and the Rapid Support Forces (RSF), persisting for the past 7 months. These clashes emerged after months of escalating tension between the two leaders locked in a power struggle. The ongoing fighting has disrupted the envisaged transition to complete civilian rule. Established in 2013 by the former dictator Omar al-Bashir, the RSF originated from the notorious Janjaweed militia. This is the same group that carried out war crimes in the Darfur region (Darfur genocide) and is responsible for the killing of civilian protesters during the 2019 Revolution. They are armed and funded by the UAE, possibly with other foreign interventions exacerbating the war.
All underlined text have links!
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