#space fishermen

[numberxxisora]

Today, we mess up the game audio for this session, but find an incredible secret in another area of this disc.

[250318]

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[virfujiwara]

MESSI & LANA DEL REY????

[puripurin]

— "What the fuck." You started at the merman who wriggled around for space. His eyes looked at you in fear as he saw you, before a blush had spread across his face.

Up until 30 seconds ago, you had lived a normal life, well, except for the obscene amount of work you were stressed out with. So you hopped on the boat your parents had gifted you some years ago and sailed into the sea. The feel of the ocean breeze hitting your face was a familiar sensation to you.

This was because your parents were fishermen and loved to eat seafood, and naturally, you had gravitated towards seafood, but with prices these days and your never-ending workload, it didn't allow you to do anything without setting you back on your tight deadlines. Until today.

You had gotten a whole week of paid vacation because a coworker was threatening to bring them to court for a long list of harassment. So they gave the people who worked the most a one week paid vacation. Though, to her, it wasn't enough, so you're getting a paid vacation week while they are still going to get sued. Whatever, its their fault either way.

Anyways, how did you reel in a merman that shouldn't even exist? Frankly, you don't know either. You had accidentally started to daydream, which turned into you not realizing something was caught, so instinctively, you were able to reel in a merman.

"H-huuuumann?" His deep moss green eyes stared at up at you with interest whilst you nearly got blinded by the shimmering gleem of his scales that were scattered across his cheeks. He stopped his advancements towards you until it was difficult to hold up his neck to see you.

"Erm... sorry for catching you, I was daydreaming. I'll unhook the fish hook attached to you..." You apologized and went down to unhook him, only for him to pull down your pants and underwear down, making you fall on the bench below you and stuffing his face in your genitals.

"Hey! W-what are you doing?" You pushed his face away, to which he pouted to. He sat there for a while as you tried to push him off the boat, to no avail.

"I... Accceppt thhis marrriaage!" He excitedly said as he tugged on your pants to gently pull it off again, but you held on tightly to your pants.

"What marriage? I didn't propose to you?" You evaded from his pulling hands in confusion.

"Whennn youuu reeeeledd mmeee inn dummmyy!" He slurred his words once more. "Shtop! I waant too tasstte you firrst beeforrre you tassteeee mee!" He huffed before his nails turned into sharp claws that shreaded your pants, then pulled down your underwear again and happily stuffing his face and licking your crotch with his tongue that felt rough.

Once more, you tried to move away but only ended up moaning at the feeling. Your face was slightly hot as you looked away but was swiftly pulled back in for a kiss, tasting your own fluids.

"Ah... finally... now it's your turn, cutie pie. We have to go to my hometown to get married <3"

"WHAT!?!? Firstly, no! Secondly, i will drown!"

"... Who said you can say no? When you reeled me, it was akin to a marriage proposal. Also, that's why you suck my dick and kiss me <333"

"WHAT--"

Was supposed to be posted yesterday, but when i saved a portion of it, i didn't see that i was save so i went back in to edit it to see what's rong before i saved it and for a slpilt second i saw the rest of it before it saved, so i lost majority of my work.

So now it looks like tjis. Womp womp. I think tjis is an afab reader? But i tried to make it gn as possible but i wannted a weird ass mermaid culture where to speak another's language, you gotta eat them out/suck them off before kissing person to speak. At first i wanted him to just kiss in order to get the language js like starfire but i was like,, so what do i do with him tryna eat you out??,, then boom yeahh.

Also, yo quero voy en me casaaaaaa *cries pathetically* No me gusta Español :((((((( not proofread. L

Edit: i forgot about tags. Mb.

[creativepromptsforwriting]

Spooktober Prompts Masterlist 2023

"They are calling us…" "Don't listen to them. Do you hear me? Don't listen to a word they promise you!"

The cameras show five people enter an elevator, but only four of them leaving it. Those four never remembered a fifth passenger.

"Aww, are you so afraid of the dark that you need me to hold your hand?" "I'm not holding your hand." "Then whose..."

At first, they believe it to be a bad joke, but when more and more graves of people who haven't died yet appear in the graveyard, they start to panic.

The camera she bought at a flea market already has photos on it. Since the people are wearing clothes from centuries ago, they believe them to be from a play. But they soon realize that those photos and events were real.

A child actress turned cult leader feels her power slipping and she needs to gain control over her following again.

When they started building the new school, they had expected to maybe find unexploded WWII bombs, but what they found instead was nothing they could have expected.

She heard footsteps behind her coming closer, but when she turned around, holding her breath, she could only see the dark and empty alley.

"Why did you choose the cemetary as our meeting place for tonight?" "Because only the dead can keep our secrets."

Going to your own funeral and see who would cry - it sounded almost fun. If it wasn’t for the fact that they could hear and see everything, but could not make a sound to stop them from closing up the grave around them.

A medium without a voice of her own, can only speak when a ghost speaks through her.

They had always felt that shadows seemed to beckon to them. But this time, when the shadows beckoned, they wore a sinister grin. (Submitted by: tumblebumblebee-63)

"I'm not haunting a filthy public bathroom, I'm a ghost with class."

A fun survival game TV show on a remote island becomes a reality when one contestant after the other turns up brutally killed. Right in front of hundreds of cameras and millions of watchful eyes.

Waking up to a child that you've never seen before, but that everyone assures you is your own that you've raised for years, is terrifying.

"Did you see that?" "Did I see what?" "That man... he touched the leaves and they immediately blackened and fell off. Please, let us go back before he sees us!" "Too late." The man in the dark cloak suddenly stood right in front of them and slowly reached out his hands to them.

What started as a fun midnight activity suddenly turned into one of them missing and the others running for their lives, trying to escape freaking zombies.

He always dreamed about being in a kdrama. He didn't imagine it to have a horror side plotline that feels way too real.

They said that when you die, you return to earth as your one true self. Why then, when he opened his eyes after being killed, were his teeth long and he hungered for blood? (Submitted by: ouilah)

She didn't think it would come to this point. She felt the cold stone of the gravestone in her back and before her the red glowing eyes of the creature crept slowly closer.

There are perks of being a ghost. Walking through walls was fun. Or haunting annoying people. But nothing was quite as nice as being able to just fade out of a conversation that you didn’t want to be a part of.

"I dare you! Come on, stop being a coward. There is no such thing as ghosts."

Someone wakes up to a text saying 'It's your lucky day!' and it turns out to be the worst day ever.

A family of vampires that lives unidentified in human communities, becomes paranoid and starts to believe all their neighbors are also supernatural creatures.

There are stories and superstitions abound about the seaside bluffs, but that's to be expected in a town of fishermen. One night, from the bluffs' direction, you hear someone singing, softly. (Submitted by: someoneoffthestreet)

Astronauts coming back to earth keep talking about hearing songs from outside the space shuttle. What they don't say, is that those songs followed them home.

Someone stared at her through the window. She had always felt safe in her own home, shutting out the scary, real world. But a window is just glass, and glass… oh it breaks so, so easily…

A plane disappears from the radar and then reappears multiple hours later at the exact same location in the middle of the ocean with no place to land and not enough fuel to just fly around for hours.

"We shouldn't enter! This place was abandoned for a reason!" "Come on, don't be a coward. We will be the only ones here!" "Okay, okay... I'll follow you. You don't have to push me!" "I... I didn't push you..."

A session of reading tea leaves ends in chaos when every single participant reveals a bad omen.

Something tells the home owner that the kids trick-or-treating in front of his house are not wearing costumes - and are not human at all.

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[entheognosis]

It is very important to go out alone, to sit under a tree—not with a book, not with a companion, but by yourself—and observe the falling of a leaf, hear the lapping of the water, the fishermen’s song, watch the flight of a bird, and of your own thoughts as they chase each other across the space of your mind. If you are able to be alone and watch these things, then you will discover extraordinary riches which no government can tax, no human agency can corrupt, and which can never be destroyed.

Jiddu Krishnamurti

[wrestlingwithlife]

That Is Some Wild West Shit Right There

When a mission goes of the rails and Y/n gets separated from the rest of the task force he is forced to use the skills he learned growing up in his home town to get back to his team.

Task Force 141 x Male!Cowboy!Reader

—————————————————————————————————————

“This has got to be the stupidest place to build some sort of evil science base.” Y/n hissed into the coms, back pressed up against a massive crate.

What Y/n assumed to be a lab was built practically on the side of a cliff. On one side of the lab you had a mess of trees that was practically just a jungle, and on the other a sheer drop off that led to one of the angriest looking rivers Cowboy had ever seen.

“Relax, we’ve almost got the last of the files downloaded.” Ghost eased the antsy male. Y/n grumbled a bit.

There were a few more beats of silence before a blaring alarm sounded, Y/n cringed at the noise. “Relax, huh?”

As a group of enemy soldiers went to run into the building Y/n stood up and opened fire on them to take the heat off the rest of the team and keep them from getting cornered in there.

“Y’all get yer asses out here now!”

Ghost was first out the door, sliding behind a box on the opposite side of the court yard for cover. The others weren’t far behind, but Y/n was on the complete other side of the yard. Trapped between the armed group of terrorists and the sheer drop off.

“Cowboy, how copy?” Price’s voice buzzed in the coms. Y/n ducked back down as a few of the soldiers turned their attention onto him.

Gaz threw out two smoke bombs, offering a bit of cover. Y/n took his chance and darted to another crate a bit farther away, but far to close to the cliff for his own comfort.

“Just peachy.” He hissed, ducking under the onslaught of bullets that rained down onto his crate.

“What the hell is that? Wait—“

“Get down!”

Y/n was able to cover his head just in time as a loud explosion shook the area. The crate he was behind blasted back in to him, shattering and sending his disoriented form flying back.

“Cowboy!” Soap shouted, breaking from his cover, but he was to late to reach his friend.

Y/n grabbed desperately at the edge of the cliff, but it was no use. Task Force 141 was forced to watch in horror as one of their own plummeted into the raging waters below.

・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜

Y/n’s eyes opened blearily. His head was pounding and everything was fuzzy, but he forced himself up onto his elbows.

His eyes adjusted a bit and he took in the area around him. The room he was in was quite homey. Beautifully woven tapestries hung on the walls and intricately crafted pottery decorated almost every space. The male was laid out on a woven mat, all of his things sat nearby.

The h/c haired soldier checked his body, cursing when he found the damaged tracker. There was no way his squad would be able to find his location now. Where ever the hell he was.

Heavy footsteps sounded from the hall, and a middle aged man walked into the room. His face was kind and worn with smile lines, and he appeared to be of some sort of Hispanic decent. His smile widened when he saw Y/n was awake.

“Ah! My friend, we were worried for you. Fishermen found you in river.” The man spoke, his voice heavy yet still welcoming. “I saw the patch on your arm, you are American?”

Cowboy nodded. “Thank you for bringing me into your home, I could never repay such an act of kindness.”

The man shook his head, waving his hands in front of him. “It is you who I could never repay. Your service is the ultimate payment.”

A soft smile graced the southern males lips. “Then perhaps you could answer some questions?”

Y/n explained everything. The terrorists, the explosion, the river. The older man listened intently.

“We were supposed to go to La Ciudad Perdida after we completed our task for extraction in two days, but I don’t even know where I even am.”

At the mention of the city the man, who Y/n had learned to be named Mateo, perked up. “Our fishermen found you not long ago, and the city is not to far. Come, I will see if I can help you.”

At the mention of the slight hope Cowboy was quick to grab what he still had, following Mateo from his rather large home. As they walked out the older man leaned down and whispered something to a young boy who was quick to scurry off.

“My village does not have vehicles like trucks and jeeps, but there may be another way for you to travel.” Mateo spoke. “La Ciudad Perdida his eight miles west of here, a long journey on foot. However…”

The boy from before returned, rounding Mateo’s home with a massive black horse in tow. The horse moved with a sense of elegance and pride to it, like it had complete confidence in every step it took.

Mateo smiled at the beast before turning to Cowboy, who was still watching the stallion in awe.

“Can you ride?”

Cowboy turned to look at Mateo, eyes shining like new born stars. “I have my whole life.”

The older gentleman smiled. “Good. Than Guerrero will be your mount. He his unflinching at the sound of gunfire, he shall run for you bravely.”

“Warrior…” Y/n whispered the meaning of the stallions name to himself, stroking the giants forelock. “Mateo, how can I repay you for this?”

He waved the h/c haired male off. “I already tell you, your service pays for it all. Besides, I am wealthy man. I have many horses.” The old Hispanic’s eyes shined with mischief.

Y/n laughed, clasping Mateo’s hand in his own and giving it a firm shake. “I will not forget this, my friend.”

Y/n pulled himself up into Guerrero’s saddle, taking a moment to adjust his gun and equipment so the weight was more even. With a final wave to Mateo, Y/n rode off into the direction of La Ciudad Perdida.

・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜

Y/n did is best to keep Guerrero at a trot the whole ride. As much as he wanted to get there as fast as he could he had no idea what kind off situation he would be riding into, and he wanted both him and the stallion to have plenty of energy when they did arrive.

“You know, I always used to imagine doing this.” Cowboy chuckled to nobody but himself and the dark horse. “Riding into battle on a horse. Maybe it seemed silly, but I always thought that would be so badass.”

Guerrero snorted, shaking his head in response. Y/n chuckled, patting the stallion’s neck.

It wasn’t long before the outline of the city became prominent against the horizon. Y/n couldn’t help but smile that they had made it in time.

“Guerrero, I promise to you I’ll have you taken to my ranch back home where you will be treated like a king.” The southern male promised the horse, rubbing his neck. Y/n felt impossibly giddy about the fact he was about to be reunited with his teammates.

Once the city began to take shape the stallions steps paused for a moment, ears forward as he listened intently. It was only a moment before Y/n heard it too. The sound of raging gun fire, it was without a doubt coming from the city.

“That’s not good.” Y/n kicked Guerrero into a gallop. “Hyah!”

The black stallion whinnied, charging towards the city at impossible speeds.

・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜

Soap’s back was pressed flush against the truck he was hiding behind, Gaz right next to him as gun fire rained down over their heads.

After watching Y/n disappear into the raging water shit hit the fan. Ghost had went on a rampage, slaughtering every terrorist he could get his hands on.

Gaz had tried to find Cowboy’s location using his tracker, but the thing had obviously been damaged or destroyed in the river. That alone ebbed at Soap’s hope that he’d ever see the male again, but Soap knew better than that.

Cowboy was fighter. He was harder than nails with the kind of spirit that would put even the most wild of animals to shame. Soap knew if anyone could survive it would be him.

But that was counting on the fact that the rest of them would make it out. Whatever was left of the terrorist group had managed to regroup and followed them to their extraction point.

They had been caught unaware, and now all four of them were pinned down, unable to break from the cover long enough to wrap around behind the group.

Ghost cursed as he ducked his head back behind the crate he was using for cover next to where Gaz and Soap were. Price wasn’t far off, hidden behind his own rather large crate.

The most infuriating part about this whole thing is that there were only six terrorists. The task force without a doubt had them outmatched, but they had managed to get the drop on them.

“This is fucking insane. How many rounds could they possibly have.” Gaz cursed as the bullets continued to rain down.

Soap shook his head, reloading his own gun. “I don know, but I’m about sick of this.”

The shooting faltered for a moment, and the terrorists began shouting things Soap couldn’t make out. In the beat of silence a new noise was heard. It sounded like the beat of hooves on pavement, and it had the group leaning a bit to see what it was.

A hulking black mass was speeding down the street of the abandoned city, atop it sat a figure with a assault rifle poised and ready. The four could not believe their eyes as their teammate came charging in, giving a wicked laugh.

“Holy shit, Cowboy!”

“That is some Wild West shit right there.”

Y/n aimed his gun at the group of terrorists, the angle he came in at giving him the perfect opening. His heart thudded with wild adrenaline as he gave a loud war cry, littering their bodies with bullets.

The group didn’t know what had hit them.

Guerrero charged forward bravely, his ear hardly twitching as Y/n rained down hell onto the group. When the last of the terrorists had fallen Soap and Gaz were the first to move from their spots, followed closely by Ghost and Price.

Guerrero slid to a stop and Cowboy leaped from his saddle, Soap enveloping him into one of the tightest hugs he’d ever experienced.

“Ah, you amadan! I knew you’d be alright!” The Scottish man bellowed, grinning from ear to ear as crushed the h/c haired male in a hug.

Gaz was next to reach him, throwing an arm over his shoulders and ruffling Y/n’s hair affectionately.

Y/n ribs felt like they were cracking from their crushing force, but his smile was wide. He was ecstatic to be back among his teammates.

Once Soap reluctantly released the male Price reached up to ruffle his hair for himself, grumbling about Y/n giving him a heart attack.

“Yeah, I suppose I don’t want to give grandpa any more scares.” Y/n teased, giggling as he earned himself a playful slap to the side of the head from his captain.

A large arm wrapped it’s was around Cowboy’s shoulders, giving him a light squeeze. The male looked up, meeting Ghost’s steely gaze.

“Glad you didn’t die.” The masked male said, giving him a pat on the shoulder before letting him go. Y/n smiled, Ghost wasn’t one for public affections, so that alone was equal to Y/n being swept off his feet and praised from the mountain tops.

“Have I got a story for you guys.”

・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜

“Thanks, Ricky. I really appreciate this man. Alright, talk to you later.” Y/n hung up his phone, pocketing it as he went back to towel drying his hair. Ricky was Y/n’s transport guy. The man in charge of getting Y/n’s horses and live stock from one place to another.

And thanks to Ricky, Guerrero was now on his way to Y/n’s ranch. Where Y/n was sure that the stallion would get the full royal treatment.

Y/n tossed his towel into the hamper, opening the door to his bedroom. Price and Ghost were already there waiting for him.

Price was sitting on Cowboy’s bed, leaned up against the wall and reading a book. He sported a grey T-shirt and pair of loose black joggers, his usual hat sitting on the bed side table.

Ghost was leaned up against the head board, a few pillows stacked behind him for comfort. The masked male wore a black tank top and dark grey sweats, his sleeve of tattoos also on display.

Y/n shuddered a bit, he had a few tattoos of his own. The emblem of his ranch on his left shoulder blade and a few more on his legs, but the sight of Ghost’s sleeve just made his heart flip. He’d have to get one of his own soon.

Cowboy made his way over to his bed, crawling over Ghost to sit closer to the wall. Once he settled against the pillows he huffed, throwing his legs over Price’s lap. The Captain only chuckled, shaking his head before going back to his book. Though, one of his hands stayed resting on the males thigh, his thumb drawing small circles into it.

Before Y/n could get fully situated Ghost reached out, tugging the shorter male in with an arm around his shoulder. Y/n’s head hit Ghost’s chest and he looked up to meet Ghost’s gaze, but the other wasn’t looking at him.

Cowboy knew Ghost needed this. Needed to feel him, needed to hold him, needed to know he was still here. Y/n could only imagine the storm of emotions they had all felt watching him topple over a cliff and disappear into the raging waters.

The southern male hummed a bit, reaching for the remote to get the true crime show pulled up. Now all they were missing was—

The door to Y/n’s room burst open, causing the three to jump a bit as Soap and Gaz tumbled into the room, each holding a bowl of popcorn.

“Alright we’re ready! Sorry it took so long, someone kept burning theirs.” Gaz shot Soap a look, making it clear who the guilty subject was.

Soap stuck his tongue out at Gaz before fumbling his way into the bed. He somehow managed to get between Y/n and the wall, laying his head on the males hard stomach. He gave the country boy a grin, offering him some popcorn which he happily accepted.

Gaz huffed when Soap took the best spot before plopping himself down by Y/n’s leg, resting his head on the thigh that Price wasn’t rubbing circles into.

Now that everyone was settled Y/n started the new episode of the show and everyone soon became engrossed into it.

With all of the bodies piled around and on top of him Y/n’s body was pleasantly warm, he snuggled back a bit into Ghost’s hold at the cozy feeling. Ghost’s eyes cut over to look down at the h/c haired male.

Ghost leaned down a bit, lips brushing the top of Y/n’s head through his mask. He turned back to look at the TV before Y/n could look up at him.

But Y/n didn’t need to look up, a smile crossed his face, he knew. He brought a hand up to rest on Soap’s head, playing with his fluffy Mohawk as he watched the old murder mysteries play across the screen.

・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜

Phew, there you go my lovelies! Hopefully this didn’t feel to unrealistic, but I’ve always imagined the riding in on a horse scenario ever since I thought of Cowboy Reader in the military lol

I’m planning on doing a little 4th July special for Cowboy Reader too so be looking out for that!

As always, hope you enjoyed!

- Author~Chan out ✌️

[harvardfineartslib]

“Could it be that human beings—whether Indian or Japanese—are like fishermen who cast their nets to fish but can only reach relatively shallow waters? We know a lot of things and are constantly learning more, but maybe what we have most in common with each other is what is unknown to us. The depths of the ocean, and our relationship to that world, still remain hidden and mysterious.” - Mayur and Tushar Vayeda

Brothers Mayur and Tushar Vayeda made this artists’ book.  They are from the indigenous Warli community in Maharashtra, western India and grew up in the village of Ganjad. After studying animation and business management in Mumbai, the brothers taught themselves the traditional art of Warli painting.

Warli art is traditionally created by the women in the community, who decorate the walls and floors of their homes, as well as community spaces and for festivals. As such, Warli paintings were temporary, constantly renewed and recreated.

Today, both women and men make Warli painting, and they are also made more permanent on paper or canvas. The Vayeda brothers incorporate traditional Warli painting style but create a new vision.

In this book, the Vayeda brothers tell their journey from Ganjad to a small Japanese island called Awashima, connecting the village stream they knew from their childhood to the deep oceans they encountered in Awashima.

The deep for the text Arun Wolf and Gita Wolf from an oral narrative by Mayur Vayeda and Tushar Vayeda. Chennai : Tara Books, [2020] Vayeda, Mayur [artist] Vayeda, Tushar [artist] HOLLIS number: 99157144381803941

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

my favorite halloween story has little to do with halloween but: once at a college costume party i met a post-grad student who grew up by the coast and came from a family of avid amateur (semi-professional? her mom regularly won tournament prize money) fishermen (fisherpeople?), with the result that she (the post-grad student) had grown up regularly eating fresh seafood multiple nights a week, that was the basic family meal, and when she got to college (hundreds of miles inland) suddenly fresh seafood was very hard to find (on a college student's budget) and she was so frustrated that in junior year (after she moved into a sorority house and had enough space) she concocted a plan to purchase her own aquarium specifically in order to farm/breed her own fresh seafood, and i'm assuming she was so gung-ho that she didn't do her research bc no sooner had she purchased an enormous aquarium off of [craigslist i'm assuming] than she discovered that local pet (aquarium? fish supply) stores either (1.) did not sell species of fish she was interested in eating, (2.) did sell fish she was interested in eating but they were tiny/would take too long to grow to a size worth eating, or (3.) sold fish-she-would-want-to-eat of a size-she-would-eat but at a price that made them more expensive than just going to the fish section of the local grocery store (((did she think they would be cheaper? and if so why buy an aquarium at all why not just buy and quickly consume the fish???))), or (4.) a combo nation of the 3.

But ANYWAY by this point she has already purchased the aquarium, so she goes ahead and buys some tiny fish of a species she was interested in consuming (i want to say guppies. i know they weren't guppies it was another species entirely, probably several different species, but in my headspace that detail has been overwritten with the label "[guppies]" so guppies it is). anyway the guppies don't look particularly delicious but she's observing them pretty often (multiple times a day) in order to track their growth, and soon she's regularly jotting down notes and calculating their caloric intake and predicted weight increase and she's tweaking the aquarium settings to facilitate growth and--basically she becomes an aquarium person. you know, those people who have an aquarium and are heavily mentally focused on the having and maintaining of said aquarium (often in a supposedly leisurely but also completely serious and sedately obsessive manner).

so she gets really into it, and is encouraged by her sorority sisters (who are having fun naming and making up back stories for all the different fishies), and yes i guess she also grows attached to the fish (but this isn't the story of a bunch of fish not getting eaten, ok, she doesn't eat those fish, those fish are no longer for eating, but she still eats plenty of fish whenever she gets the chance, at restaurants and at her parents' house i assume, fish are still being eaten, she does not end up a reformed former fish-eater). oh, and then she goes on to write her senior thesis (? or class thesis or. some final project paper thing) on the fish (or on her aquarium ecosystem? something to do with aquariums), and she decorates her graduation cardboard hat thing with a little finding nemo plushie sewn on.

*GASPS FOR BREATH* (no no wait. ***GULPS LIKE A GUPPY*** hah!) anyway this all happened several years before i even met this woman whose name i don't remember at a college halloween party, but the reason i know this backstory is we had both had too much halloween punch and i asked her "so what are you studying" and she started telling me about how she was in the final year of getting her PhD in Marine Conservation

[letterful]

❝ “Columbia now nine times the speed of sound.” “Roger that, Dan, I’ve got a solid TACAN locked on, uh, TACAN twenty-three.” “The, uh, tracking data, map data and pre-planned trajectory are all one line on the block.”

These authentic samples of communication between NASA and astronaut Dan Brandenstein on the space shuttle Columbia place us in orbit around our planet. Kate has said of “Hello Earth,” “…this is the point where she’s so weak that she relives the experience of the storm that took her in the water, almost from a view looking down on the earth up in the heavens, watching the storm start to form - the storm that eventually took her and that has put her in this situation.” Our narrator is having another out-of-body experience but this time it’s not nearby, on terra firma, but literally out of this world, and it seems to be final. She is high up above our earth, looking down, and there is a shocking sense associated with that as so few human beings have ever left our world to look back on it. There is a disconnection from what is common, known. I am reminded of The Overview Effect, the very real psychological and cognitive shift experienced by astronauts and cosmonauts—anyone who has left the planet and gone a sufficient distance to look back and perceive our planet not as a familiar home, but as a tiny, fragile ball, barely protected by a thin membrane of atmosphere. This awed feeling is described as one of ultimate compassion and understanding of the imperative to preserve and safeguard the planet.

After the NASA samples, we join our narrator floating in space like the Star Child in “2001: A Space Odyssey,” of the earth, but no longer attached to it, in fact freed from it. The tether has been cut. She is detached from her life and its meaning: there is an innocent, bemused approach as she plays a little game. She is so far from home, she can hold up one hand and block the planet from her field of vision—the earth is a toy. And we shift place, time, and point of view (as Kate so often does in her music) to our narrator driving home in a car at night, looking up at the sky, her loved one asleep on the seat beside her (a sweet, gentle, highly cinematic image, and all the more moving when we understand where our narrator currently is and the loss ahead), when she sees something bright streak across the sky. As she watches it shoot through the stars, she sings, amazed, “Just look at it go!” And what is “it?” Shooting star? Satellite? Space shuttle? A “little light?” If all time is simultaneous, has she glimpsed her own soul shooting past the planet? It is her own little light, a mind-boggling and heartbreaking idea—the cry in her voice when she sings this line indicates that she understands the meaning of this object, and its finality.

At this point, something very unexpected happens. An ethereal, arresting male choir sing a passage based on a traditional Georgian folk song from the Kakhetian region called “Tsintskaro.” It is a shocking transition, one that makes us hold our breath so as not to disturb this sudden, delicate, transcendent moment. Kate on the men’s chorus: “They really are meant to symbolize the great sense of loss, of weakness, at reaching a point where you can accept, at last, that everything can change.”

Our narrator, in full Overview Effect at this point, watches storms form and move to threaten the lives she sees below. She cries out to them in vain, all of them, the sailors, life-savers, cruisers, fishermen, anyone on or near the sea, to protect themselves. We hear in this section a few of the Irish instruments, bringing in echoes of meaning from the previous song “Jig of Life.” Here I am reminded of the idea of the Asian goddess Kuan-Yin, or the Buddhist idea of a Bodhisattva, a human who has attained ultimate awareness (Buddhahood) but motivated by compassion, refuses to leave this plane of reality for the benefit of all sentient beings. Our narrator, moved by the end of her own life, is now able to perceive the ephemeral nature of all creation. Everyone can be exposed to danger, everyone can suffer, everyone can—and will—die. This truth is universal. But she is unable to prevent or stop this truth. No one can.

She then sings a passage that is full of several meanings. She says she was there at the birth, out of the cloudburst, the head of the tempest. This could be the storm that took her, or it could be, from her newly widened perspective of awareness, the start of life itself, the start of the universe. We were all there, we are all made of the matter from a singularity—we are all star dust. The murderer of calm is this physical reality itself. All that is born must die. Entropy exists. She understands this and cries out, “J’accuse.” Hence the ultimate compassion for this tiny little blue ball.

The piece ends with whale song, sounds of radar, and a very mysterious, arcane passage spoken in German which, when translated into English, means “Deeper, deeper, somewhere in the deep there is a light.” In German, the word “tief” can also mean “profound,” and I am reminded of the Latin phrase at the beginning of the Christian Psalm 130 “De profundis clamavi ad te:” “out of the depths I cry out to you.” In the depths of sorrow, in the endless well of suffering, there is a light. Compassion is the light. ❞

via: (x)

[brainr0tcntrl]

Episode two! His first build on the server!

Alternative thumbnail for episode two below cut

Those fishermen launched him into space,

[redtsundere-writes]

Tyrant's Favorite | Sukuna Ryomen

Part 6: Harvest Season

King!SukunaRyomen x Servant!FemReader

Summary: You used to be just another servant among the army of humans operating under the command of the terrible king, Sukuna Ryomen. An ordinary human who only knows how to wash, clean and cook. Until one day, he notices something in you that you hadn't seen before.

Tags: MDNI. +18. Murder. Blood. Cannibalism. Sukuna Ryomen Is The Warning Itself. Nudity. Sexual Display. Vaginal. Fingering.Sometimes fluff, sometimes angst.

Word Count: 5083 words.

Beginning. | ← Previous | Next →

The cold morning tickled your toes protruding from the blankets that barely covered your body. You curled into a ball as you slept with your five sisters while the sun peeked through the hills of the green valley. They were squashed together like sardines to make the most of the small bed's cramped space. The room in the cabin where they lived was practically empty, they only had a small closet with all their clothes, some stuffed animals for decoration and a semi-transparent white cloth that served as a curtain. You were in your fifth dream when you felt a hand pulling your foot. You snapped your eyes open to see your mother at the end of the bed. 

“Let’s go to the market,” she asked you as you whittled your eyes wide awake. 

You nodded in response so as not to wake your sisters. You carefully slipped out of bed to get dressed in a brown dress, you wore it so much that it already had holes in the skirt. Your mother had sold most of your fancy dresses, so your sisters could buy new ones for the dances they were invited to. Your mother was always obsessed with the idea that one of her daughters would marry a rich man and take them all out of the misery in which they lived. Every morning she used to repeat the same thing: “Up my future princesses because men don't flirt themselves.” You quietly left the room and picked up the old worn-out basket they used to carry the loaf of bread and potatoes they could afford to buy. 

Since your father died a couple of years ago, money was always tight. Your mother, to keep her hopes up and not starve to death, had slowly sold all the furniture in the house. She started with the living room, then the dining room, then her bed and then the decorations. Little by little, they were running out of options. Someone had to sacrifice in the work field, and your mother would not be one of them. 

The sun was barely rising over the green horizon. It was too early to go to the human market, but you just followed your mother without question. The grass crunched under your worn boots and the cool air ruffled your hair. As you walked along the path you had created from the many times you had gone to town, your mother was quieter than usual. She was a hard woman to keep quiet, always having to have an opinion on something. “The mornings are horrible,” “it hasn't rained in months,” “everything is more expensive.” She always prattled on about any topic that crossed her mind, but today she was different. She just looked straight ahead, walked hurriedly and hadn't even wished you good morning. “Maybe she wants some peace,” you thought. You should have realized it at the time. 

You knew you reached the main town when the smell of fish intensified. Every morning, fishermen set out to sell their booty among the busy main streets of the Sukuna kingdom. A place full of humans who were ruled by curses. Since King Sukuna had conquered their lands along with his army more than five hundred years ago, the humans who had already lived there for centuries became easy prey for the hideous deformed monsters. Half of the population was eaten, while the other was left alone as soon as their stomachs were full. The only thing that stopped them from eating more was their own limits. From then on, the curses began to coexist with the humans. Only instead of treating them as equals, it was a cow-butcher relationship. 

Since the curses owned the main town, it was rare to see so many humans walking down the street. They were all heading in the same direction, the gloomy castle of King Sukuna. A striking architectural structure of charcoal color and huge windows with blood-red roses. It was so large that despite being surrounded by towering walls, you could still admire the rest of the castle and its imposing watchtowers. Your astonished gaze kept going up to admire the terrible place. Your eyes could not continue because the top of its towers were hidden among the gray clouds and the vultures flying overhead. 

Unfortunately, they had not arrived at the market but at the gigantic wooden bridge that led into the castle. Several curses in fine armor paraded around the perimeter as you watched two of them lead a lady into the castle. Your breath hitched as you realized what day it was. Today was harvest day. Once a year, King Sukuna asks those who want to work for him to report to the castle and in return their families would be rewarded financially, but everyone knows it's a trap. No one knows exactly what goes on inside the castle, but a tyrant who mistreats his people does not usually offer “work.” All the people know that once you enter his castle, you don't get out. Even though it is known that entering his castle was like entering a torture machine of your own free will. People in need of money or resources send older relatives or children they can't support to get rid of them. 

You dropped the basket in shock at why your mother had only woken you up so early and was so quiet. She was about to sell you. As soon as the basket creaked against the floor, you ran away to avoid your painful fate as the daughter who was betrayed by her mother. You didn't manage to run that far, because two curses pinned you to the ground. You screamed, kicked and twisted your body in failed attempts to escape. Your eyes filled with tears as soon as the curses lifted you off the ground to drag you back to the castle. It was the end, you knew that for a fact. 

“We must part ways, my adorable daughter,” your mother said goodbye without looking you in the eye. 

“Are you really going to sell me to the tyrant? You know what happens to those who enter!” You yelled while tears fell desperately down your cheeks. 

“Don't be like that, you know we need money. The king may be a tyrant, but sometimes he is generous,” she said as he showed you the sack of gold coins the curses give her for you. 

100 gold coins. That was all you were worth. All your years of life equaled a year's worth of food. Not even luxuries, expensive furniture or beautiful clothes. Your mother had traded you to eat one more year without worry. You hang your head in defeat. She was treating you as if you were a nuisance. One more pitiful mouth to feed. 

“I can work at the market, at sea, in mining, in anything!” You protested. 

“How are you going to work there? I educated you as a young lady so you could marry a rich man, and you failed me,” she emphasized, spitting in your face the disappointment she felt. 

Your chest ached, snot was building up in your nose and your eyes were beginning to redden from the hot tears coming from your sad heart. Your head was starting to hurt, you couldn't believe this was happening to you. You were always a good daughter. You were the perfect daughter, polite and compliant. What have you done wrong? The frustration of not being able to do anything was eating you alive.  

“Think of your sisters. With this money, they will be able to buy new dresses to impress rich men. Next week there is going to be a ball, they say King Gojo will be there,” your mother said excitedly. 

“Say goodbye to your mother, we must get you to the castle.” A curse ordered you with a harsh voice. 

“I don't have a mother anymore,” you mumbled between sobs. 

“My sweet daughter, don't be like that…” your mother called you with disappointment. 

“And you no longer have a daughter,” your mother gasped, surprised at the minimum act of rebellion. 

From the time you were a little girl, your parents knew you would be a good girl. You always did everything orderly, knew what to say to stay out of trouble and educated your sisters when they were wrong. You were the perfect daughter in their eyes. The only thing you weren't good at was talking to men. At dances none of them would come up to you and none of them would catch your eye. While the sister next in age to you, Yorozu, danced with almost everyone, you always stood on the sidelines as you watched the night unfold. Your mother always scolded you on the way home for not being good enough to get a husband, but that never mattered to you. You knew inside that someday you would marry a good man who could see your true potential. 

Curses threw you into the parade ground and closed the gate behind you. You felt worse than dirt itself, you wanted to lie on the ground where you belonged. You wished the earth would swallow you up and disappear at that instant, anyway, you had nothing left to fight for. You didn't even have the strength to cry anymore. 

A loud sobbing sound reached your ears, causing you to look up. A little blond boy was crying his eyes out as he desperately searched for his mother. You were in the same situation as him, only you didn't have a little teddy bear to cheer you up. In a place full of old people, no one wanted to pay attention to you. No one had enough energy to soothe the crying of a frightened child. 

You stood up and dusted off your dress. Quietly, you approached the child with a red face from crying. He was dressed in a torn white shirt and dirty overalls. He couldn't have been more than 10 years old. You got down on your knees to stand by his height and wiped away his tears with your thumbs before shaking off his clothes.

“I want my mommy,” the boy shouted as he sniffled. A lump rose in your throat. You wanted the one you used to have too. 

“She'll be back. You just have to be a good boy, alright?” You asked with a weak smile. The boy nodded as he rubbed his watery eyes. “Whatever you do, just behave well and she will come back.”

 “Do you promise me?” he asked you between sobs, raising his little pinky towards you. 

“Of course,” you answered, intertwining his little finger with yours. 

An old woman approached you both. A granny with a cotton head, raisin skin and a sketchy smile, handed him a piece of candy she had in the pocket of her once-white apron. The boy gladly accepted it, forgetting for a second why he was crying in the first place. Children were always easy to please. 

“Poor little boy. He hasn't even started his life, and he's already this lucky,” the old woman whispered to you as you watched him eat the candy and play with his teddy bear perched on the grass. You could only nod in sorrow.

After an hour of waiting and watching the curses hurl more sold humans onto the parade ground. The doors of the gigantic castle opened. A white-haired person with a red stripe and splendid white robes made an appearance along with a scroll under their arm. You stepped in front of the boy to hide him behind you. 

“Welcome to this year's harvest. Thanks to your relatives or communities, you have been chosen as the most useless beings of this year. So the great king Sukuna has decided to give you the opportunity to work for him as servants,” The person began to read the scroll aloud in front of everyone. 

A collective sigh was heard when he read the word “useless”. Most of them, being elderly, already knew that they were only a burden to their families. Therefore, there was no need to stress it further. It was like squeezing lemon on an open wound. 

“As every year, we give those who are completely useless a chance to leave. King Sukuna needs real servants and not stupid dogs.” Along with that announcement, the castle gates opened.

There it was, the door that would lead them to freedom right under their noses. Hearing that, most of them ran towards their escape route, desperate to return home to their loved ones. You took the child in your arms and were about to run away until the thought that the offer was too good to be true settled in your mind. “Those who go in, never come back” you thought. 

“Come on, dear, let's go,” the kind old woman asked you while she pulled you by the arm to escape quickly. 

“If they do this every year, why doesn't anyone come back home?” You asked her. “It's a trap, I can feel it.” The old woman looked at you puzzled at first, but understood your point after processing it for a couple of seconds. She was so blinded by the brilliant exit that she hadn't boasted about it. 

Once the first to escape was about to reach the door, the grille slammed shut. The evil laughter of hundreds of curses echoed through the place like a war chant. In less than a second, a gigantic flock of armored curses began to eat all those who were about to flee. A massacre, desperate screams and blood spraying everywhere. You had never seen anything like it in your life. You knew the curses were evil and ate humans, but you never thought it would be such a disastrous sight. You covered the child’s eyes. The lady covered her face as she realized the hell they had been sent to. 

“Traitor dogs do not deserve to live,” the white-haired person said as soon as no human who had tried to escape was left alive. 

“You were right…” the old woman whispered next to you between silent sobs. 

You looked back at the front of the castle while your eyes were still drowning in tears. The person who was summoning you was glaring at you, as if offended by your mere presence. You looked around, less than half had stayed. The other elders were crying, vomiting and some lucky ones hadn't even turned around to see what was happening. Your arms were shaking from the cold of the morning and the terror that consumed you whole. You squeezed the child against your body to protect it. A little creature was not to blame for being in a place like that. You had to protect him, it was the only way he would have a chance to survive. 

“I congratulate you for surviving the first round. My name is Uraume, and I am the right hand of your king, Sukuna Ryomen,” they introduced themselves in a loud, monotone voice so that we could all hear them. “Next you will introduce yourselves to the king. He will have the final word as to your fate,” they explained before returning to the castle. 

After finishing their feast, the other curses rounded up the survivors to form a line in front of the castle gates. They were sheep being led by shepherds who were also wolves. No one said a word, they only obeyed by bodily proximity to where they were supposed to be. You did not let go of the child at any time, you had already proclaimed yourself as his guardian. Maybe it wasn't the best idea in hell, but you knew it was the right thing to do. You were willing to protect him as if he were one of your little sisters. 

Your beloved little sisters. You hid your face in the little boy's hair so no one would see you cry. Once you entered the castle, you would never leave, either by slavery or death. You would never see your lovely sisters again. You would never see them play, comb each other's hair or sing happily after dinner. You cursed the time when you had grown up and were not woman enough not to marry someone. In your mother's eyes you were a disappointment and were to be discarded. You only prayed internally that your sisters would not have the same fate. Yorozu was only a year younger than you. If she did not marry soon, she too would be sold. 

The survivors passed 5 at a time into the castle. The walls were so thick that they could not hear what was happening on the other side. There were 5 more people left, and it was your turn to pass next to the old woman, who was repeating the same silent prayer several times. The curse at the front of the line signaled the 5 people to pass, making everyone move in sync. 

“The child must enter,” the curse ordered you. 

“But they already let 5 in. It's his turn to go in when I go in,” you defended, holding the little boy tightly. 

The curse smiled maliciously before snatching the child from your hands. The difference in strength was crazy. You managed to grab the child by his white shirt to prevent him from being stolen. The child began to cry out loud because the curse had hooked its claws into his back. The curse pulled harder on the boy, leaving you with only the torn piece of cloth in your hand. As you tried to reach him again, the curse kicked you in the stomach so that you fell to the ground. Your body fell, and your eyes could only watch as the boy was mercilessly thrown along with the others. 

“Just do what they ask you to do!” You shouted at the boy between sobs before another curse kicked you in the face to shut you up. 

The last thing you could see was his face full of tears and snot as you bled from your nose incessantly. The castle doors slammed shut as the curses taunted you. You didn't care what they had to say, you just wanted the child to be okay. The woman you had befriended helped you up as your chest closed, and your eyes hurt from crying. You couldn’t do it anymore. 

After about 10 minutes, the doors opened again. The curse kicked you in the back to get you inside. The old woman and three other old men followed close behind. A servant with a grim face welcomed you and led you into the king's hall. A room filled with luxuries along the walls, costly works, candles bathed in gold foil and glowing obsidian candelabras. It was a pity that the beautiful room was bathed in the dark blood of your kind. The walls were splattered, some candles had been extinguished because of it, and there were several dismembered bodies all over the room. 

Despite being surrounded by light sources, the deepest part of the room was in complete darkness. Where you assumed the throne was supposed to be, there were many curtains that kept the king in the shadows. The only thing you could see was one of his giant feet being struck by the light of a nearby candle. 

The servant asked them to stand in a side row so that the king could get a good view of them all. Once they obeyed, the servant retreated at a brisk pace. Everyone was silent. You could only hear their breaths being disturbed by the situation they were in. Your eyes traveled around the room. The bodies of the discarded individuals were cut into hundreds of cubes, making your blood run cold. It was an extremely perfect job, almost impossible to do. Had the king done that or was someone else in the room with them? You didn't want to see, but it was like a morbid exhibition of what an abominable being could do.

Your eyes roamed around the room in curiosity and terror, until they saw a teddy bear soaked in blood. The teddy bear of the child you swore you would protect. The child's head had been cut off, his eyes had popped out of his skull and were held in place by its corneas, and the rest of his body was completely mutilated into perfect rectangles of flesh. You closed your eyes and clenched your skirt to keep from screaming in despair. The frustration and disappointment in you could not be compared to anything else. You could do nothing to save him. You were pathetic. 

“5… 4…” The king started the countdown. For what? You had no idea. 

You knew you wouldn't have the answer if you asked him because of his reputation as a foul tyrant. You didn't know much about the dastardly king who reigned over the land of your birth, the only thing you knew was that he hated humans more than anything else in the world. You looked around for answers as to what exactly the king wanted. Nothing about the decorations gave you answers, the only thing that kept catching your attention were the bodies. “If he has servants, why are the bodies still here?” you thought the servants would get rid of them before bringing in any more prospects. 

“3…” His deep voice echoed through the walls along with a devilish smile. 

Sukuna watched you comfortably from his large stone throne, hand carved by the best sculptors in the region. He was amused to see your eyes darting everywhere. “What a fool,” you thought disdainfully. Nothing in the room could help you know what to do. 

“2…” You could hear a small smile escape his lips as he approached 0. 

You analyzed the bodies before you and they all met the same characteristic. None of the heads were connected to the rest of the body. Their heads had been cut off before they were mutilated. If none of them had heads, it is because they must have been at the same height, that is, they were standing when their heads were cut off. Standing in front of a tyrant? Complete blasphemy. That was it. That must have been it. 

“¡1!” 

“Get down, ma'am!” you yelled before pulling the lady down to the floor with you so she could kneel. 

You knelt with your head on your hand as a pillow while the other still held the lady's arm. A thin slice rang through the room. It was so fast that you didn't hear a scream or even a whimper, you only heard the bodies of the others in the room fall to the floor under their own weight. The blood of the old man next to you began to trickle down to your fingers. You didn't dare look at the result of what had happened. You were just relieved that you were in one piece. 

“Finally… Someone with manners,” the king uttered with disdain. You tried to swallow the lump in your throat, but it wouldn't go away. “The one in the middle, come closer,” he commanded. You were dead, you sensed it. 

You struggled to your feet and walked towards him without looking his way. You entered his little sacred place in the middle of the dark, but you could see him clearly. His pink legs were gigantic. His thigh was thicker than your legs put together. That already gave you hints of the giant in front of you. Despite being dressed in a large white robe, he still showed enough skin to be considered vulgar. As soon as you approached, his hand took your head easily as if it were a ball, directing your gaze towards him. Your eyes widened at the eerie sight in front of you. A malevolent face split in half that watched you morbidly. His four eyes roamed your body shamelessly. His half-naked body tattooed with different lines astonished you at a closer look.  

“How old are you?” He asked you while he moved your joints with his four arms as if you were a doll he could play with. You answered obediently between stutters. “Tell me, did your husband sell you?” he answered with a mocking tone. 

“I am not married, my king,” Sukuna arched an eyebrow at that response. You decided to elaborate your answer to that reaction. “My mother sold me because I didn't marry.” 

“You are still old enough to get married,” Sukuna said, still not letting go to observe you better. 

He turned and moved you around like a globe to inspect you completely. It's been a long time since I've seen a girl of your age, to be always in the castle or conquering lands, she always sees young men but almost never women. For someone of the lowest possible class, you had your certain charm. Sukuna saw you as if you were a strange doll in an antique store, odd but striking in your own way. 

“We were starving, my king.”

“It shows,” he replied with a certain mocking tone. “You know… I'm not used to seeing girls like you around here. They always send me decrepit old men or children who didn't die in their mother's womb,” he explained, annoyed. 

Despite the terrifying distance and the fact that your heart was pounding a mile a minute, you were glad he wasn't hurting you. He grabbed you by the head as if he were examining a fruit to dictate whether he could eat it or not, but he didn't squeeze you as if he were squeezing you between his claws. 

“I keep the old people because they work the hardest for their daily meal and I kill all the children because I hate how loud they can be.” You quickly realized right there that you never had a chance to save the child. An unruly tear rolled down your cheek, taking a second to mourn the little boy in silence. “So tell me, what should I do with you, kill you outright or give you a chance?” he asked you with a sinister smile. 

“Dying before I live through hell doesn't sound so bad,” you thought pessimistically. What was the point of going on living? Your mother had sold you, and you trusted that your sisters would marry before you, especially Yorozu, so you didn't have to worry about her. You no longer felt you had any value, but you were afraid of dying. That inexplicable, but useless fear left you frozen. Why did you want to keep breathing if you weren't going to live anyway? Your mind couldn't make up its mind. 

“I trust your decision, my king,” you replied in a sigh of surrender. 

Sukuna's smile disappeared, he did not expect that answer. I thought you would beg him for mercy for your life, but you had completely surrendered to him, leaving your fate in his hands. He smiled again, this time, satisfied. 

“Why?” he asked curiously. 

“Because you always have the last word.” 

“Interesting,” He answered before pulling you by the neck to bring you closer to his face. “You are someone special, aren't you?” Sukuna asked with eyes full of interest in you. He had found a gold nugget in a pile of shit. 

Your eyes slowly drifted to his. Have you heard correctly? Had he, an almighty king, called you special? You no longer knew if your heart was pounding from the flattery or being so close to the king. You were so close that you could decipher what he had for breakfast that morning, probably people. 

“Do you know how to cook and clean?” he asked quietly. You just nodded. “Well, you better not let me down,” he reluctantly let you go, making you stumble backwards. “Now get out of here with that old bitch so you get your uniforms,” he ordered with a harsh tone. 

“Thank you, my king. I will not disappoint you,” you thanked him with a weak smile as you bowed several times before retreating from his presence. 

Sukuna couldn't take his eyes off you. You ran to the shocked lady to help her out of the bloody room. She laid her head on her fist as she followed your anatomy. There was something about you that caught her attention. You were submissive, but you were not stupid. You were perceptive, but not rebellious. He liked what you had offered him so far, he just needed to do a little more observing. 

“Thank you very much, thank you, child, you saved my life!” The old woman cried once they left the room into a candle lit hallway. A small smile crept onto your face. You may not have saved the child, but you saved your new friend. “I am forever in debt with you.” 

“No need, ma'am,” you said so as not to make her feel guilty. 

“Mrs. Inoue,” she introduced herself in tears as she bowed politely, you did the same as you let her know your name. 

They both walked until they reached the end of the hallway where the few survivors were. An uncomfortable silence ruled the place. Mrs. Inoue and yourself sat down on a small bench to wait for instructions. Uraume and a group of servants carrying piles of clothes arrived not long after. Sukuna's right hand looked at everyone with disdain as the servants handed out the uniforms to the new servants who would be under her command. “So she survived…” they thought interested of you as you changed out of the old brown dress into the new uniform. 

You lifted the wet apron against the sunlight to check it for any unwanted stains. Your first anniversary as Sukuna's servant was a month away. You couldn't believe that you were about to complete one lap around the sun since you survived the harvest and received your maid's uniform. A long black dress with a contrasting white apron with black boots and a scarf in your hair to keep your hair off your forehead. You returned the apron to the sink to continue washing it by hand with soap and water. A small smile crept in as you realized you had survived the worst, you just hoped you had the same luck for the rest of your life. Now, you could rest for a very deserving week. 

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Migrations and invasions in Eurasia from 4th to 6th centuries

"Atlas historique Larousse", Georges Duby, 1978

by cartesdhistoire

In the fourth century, Eurasia is dominated by the four great empires of China, Indian (Gupta), Persian (Sassanid) and Roman, well defended by natural obstacles (mountains of Central Asia and the Caucasus) or artificial (Great Wall of China, Roman Limes). But at their borders rush many barbaric peoples, who sometimes even enter their territories as federates: nomads breeders of the Asian steppes (Xianbei of Manchuria, Xiongnu in the northwest of Huanghe); pastoral peoples of the Middle East (Lakhmids, Rhassanids) and North Africa (Blemmyes, Berbers); hunters, ranchers or farmers of European forests and clearlands (Germany); fishermen pirate from the shores of the North Seas and Ireland (Scots, Pictes, Germans).

In the 4th century, a possible climate degradation, perhaps a population growth resulting in a pastoral overload of immutable yield pastures, throw these peoples on the assault of grain empires. To the east, the Xiongnu seize Luoyang, the capital of the Jin Dynasty, and Emperor Jin Huaidi in 311, before being eliminated by the Sien-pei clan of the Murong, then by the Tabghatch (Tuoba), founders of the Wei kingdom that dominated Northern China until 534-581.

In the heart of Eurasia, the Xiongnu push slips the Hephthalite Huns from the Altai towards Central Asia, then throws them on the assault of the Sassanid and Gupta Empires, at the junction of which they hold until about 565. West at last, the advancement of these same Xiongnu pushes Huns and Germains into four successive waves within the Roman Empire, starting at 375. In 476, this one was erased even in the West, where the invaders established barbaric kingdoms.

Thus emphasizes the deep unity of the history of Eurasia, whose great empires succumbed at the same time under the blows of the steppe peoples in search of spaces capable of ensuring their livelihood.

[jaskierx]

thinking about ed's reasons to live - warmth and good food and orgasms - and the moments in the series when these are present (or not), and how all roads lead back to stede

there's a distinct lack of warmth in the gravy basket. it's tinted blue as if it's cold. ed's near-death is portrayed as him drowning in cold water. we don't see him with a robe or a blanket at any point in the kraken era, not even in private, even though we know these things comfort him. we don't see him having any physical contact with the crew - in fact there's often a large space between him and the others. he does not feel the warmth of other human beings.

in contrast, warmth is a key feature of times when he and stede work together well - they use fire to appear like a lighthouse in s1e4, stede burns the boat after the aristocrats upset ed in s1e5, ed is under a blanket when stede comforts him in s1e6, they enjoy the snake snack by the fire in s1e7.

when ed eats without stede, it's not 'good food' - either he's eating marmalade out of the jar or cake icing off a dagger because he misses stede, or he's using the wrong cutlery to eat a prawn and getting laughed at by the aristocrats. he ensures the crew get cake from the wedding raids, but does not join them to eat it. he accidentally ruins the fishermen's meal in s2e8.

when ed eats with stede, the meals are substantive and good quality - breakfast spreads, the snake snack, the meal they don't pay for. they take part in so many little social rituals associated with eating - making food for each other, clinking their teacups together, stede getting the crumb out of ed's beard. many of their major relationship moments revolve around food - stede bringing ed breakfast in s1e4, the cutlery being a turning point in s1e5, blackbeard's bar and grill in s1e7, jack interrupting breakfast and 'well well look who's eating seaweed' in s1e8, their reconciliation at the dinner at anne and mary's house in s2e4, the breakfast in bed in s2e7.

orgasms is in some ways an obvious one bc the only sex scene he has is with stede - but on a wider level, he has very little positive physical contact with anybody that isn't stede (other than his cute little friendship dance with anne) - even his interactions with jack feel somewhat forced and over the top. but ed and stede touch all the time, in a very casual way, and a lot of the moments where they touch are significant - ed holding stede's hand while he's unconscious in s1e4, ed throwing his arms around stede after the lighthouse plan works in s1e4, ed resting his head against stede's hand in s1e6, the foot touch in s1e8, stede trying to wake ed up in s2e3, ed reaching out to protect stede in s1e9 and s2e6, the way they wrap themselves around each other when they kiss.

in comparison, the ways that he shares contact with other characters is starkly different - fang describes desecrating ed's unconscious body, he indirectly loses autonomy over his body when he's forced to shave his beard at the privateering academy, ed and izzy's touches in s1e10 are either violent (e.g. ed feeding izzy his toe) or an uncomfortable violation of boundaries (e.g. izzy touching ed's cheek). compare this to stede's approach to touching ed - he asks ed to come out from under the blanket in s2e4 instead of pulling it away, he checks in with 'is this okay' when they're holding hands in s2e5, he waits for ed's nod of consent in s2e6.

idk i'm just emotional about how hornigold asked ed what he liked about living and he basically said 'stede' three times