#theres. so much more to this and a whole line of thought i will absolutely. get into. one day. hopefully from my end

[grimmweepers]

even before i started reading i was SCREAMINGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG at the content tags. it’s so up my alley and i knew i was going to love this. i wish i could idk take this all in and rub it all over my body and eat it hehe.

but courtney!!!! where has your writing been all my life!! i can’t believe this is your first time writing sukuna. you write him so amazingly and you have such an eloquent way of setting the scene and describing feelings that i just feel so immersed. it genuinely feels like i’m getting pulled away when i have to stop reading. and a whopping 8.3k words… you have spoiled me 🥹💖

i also really appreciate how you characterised reader (me… i can’t believe it!!!). every dialogue reader says just has me nodding and agreeing and cheering her on because i, too, would say those things. while i was reading i made a list of parts that made me unwell /pos because i tend to do that when i read and if you do not mind, it does involve screaming so be prepared !!!! :

They carry the weight of something unspoken a recognition of the four-letter word he is not yet ready to voice

“If I’m to entertain a mortal festivity it will not be done poorly.”

He walks to you, thunderous steps shaking the forest floor but doing little to shake you tucking and readjusting your furs once more before ushering you back to the estate

HE IS SO LOVING IN THE MOST SUBTLE AND SUKUNA-ESQUE WAYS IM SO GOOEY RN!!!!!!

i’ll just be including this entire thing because it’s so beautifully written and i still can’t believe it’s about me.

YOU ARE SO THOUGHTFUL AND I JUST WANTED TO LET YOU KNOW I ACKNOWLEDGE AND AM OBSESSED WITH THESE EASTER EGGS. love changes people and if this isn’t the most crystal clear form of proof….

the whole hansel and gretel scene made me giggle. his nodding of approval when they spoke about eating the kids and luring them in lmfaooo!!!! i’m crying KGVAJAHAAJABNWJWAHAN and i love the way you characterised his tummy mouth to be like a lil puppy. it almost makes it endearing, especially imagining it dusted with cookie crumbs and frosting hehe so silly

“This isn’t the Heian era, despite how much you like to talk about it.”

I LAUGHED OUT LOUD

“He trespasses into their domain and then defiles it. Disgusting.”

ANOTHER FAVE. he can sound like such a baby sometimes HAHAHAHHAHAAH poor ‘kuna getting hot and bothered by christmas

OH AND THE PART AT THE SOFA WHERE WE WHERE WE WHERE WE AHGQBAJFQBHANHABAJQHQBWNJQVABAJWHWVWBJWHWBWKJWBWNWKWJWBWNWKHWBWNWJWBWBWJWJBW WJWJWBWNWJWJWBW SKWKWJBWWKWK sigh that’s all i have to say about that

AND WAIT THERES MORE…. WITH HIS TUMMY TONGUE KISSING ME NOW HFFGABAJAJQHABAJAJBANAKAJABAJAKAJANP. that scene was so absolutely HOT. it’s only 12:30pm here but i just woke up and wow what a way to start the day. i never thought i’d say this but sukuna is so adorable trying to guess what i’m gifting him

OH MH GOD HE GIFTED ME PERFUMEEEEEEEEEE THAT HE CRAFTED HIMSELF AND IT SOUNDS SO PERFECT AND ETHEREAL I WISHED I HAD IT IN MY HANDS RIGHT THIS INSTANCE 😭😭😭 the blends the notes - i wish it were real. courtney this is the best!!!!!

“You see me,” he finally speaks, uncharacteristically hushed. You see him—demon and protector, destroyer and creator, ancient force and the being who has learned to nestle mortal joy in hands only meant for destruction

the sheer rawness in this paragraph. i’m in awe. i’m also hushed because the way you write makes me cry. you really explain him in the same way i view him :(

“And I see you, Ryu.”

AND WHAT IF I DIED WHAT THEN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! IM TEARING UP. THIS IS TERRIBLE. MY HEART IS JUMPING OUT OF MY CHEST

The naked feel of you against his torso pleases him, and beneath the prideful smirk against your mouth, beneath the snicker from his belly, you taste that four-letter word in his mouth, siphoning as much of it as you can before you pull away and rest your forehead against his.

A mortal who hates spiders, but loves Gothic architecture, monsters, and the many books that line his walls.

hehe what can i say… spiders scare me… monsters don’t … like sukuna

AHFDHFHFJJGBA AND THE END. thank you so so so so much for the gift. i can tell you really did your research and i am eternally grateful and will be keeping this close to my wee heart. i don’t talk about sukuna all that often anymore but he was my first ship and first comm ever EVER! so he will always remain special to me. and lately i’ve been feeling a little doubtful about that ship. only because i begin to wonder if our personalities would even mesh well which would inevitably lead to me getting insecure about sukuna becoming soft for me. but the fic - your gift - showed me that even after all these years, ryukuna can still work. that he can love me. and that i can love him while still being myself. i’m so sorry this is so rambly and long. i woke up with my heart a lil heavier today for unrelated reasons but this just made me feel 1999999616161881 times better. you have such a way with words that scratches an itch in my brain and i know i will be coming back to this when i miss sukuna or when i’m feeling sad. every time you referred to me as Queen i get a little giddy. because even without sukuna, that is the type of confidence i should have. that’s how i should see myself. i am a fiery woman by nature so it’s a huge affirmation seeing myself depicted this way. in fact reading this might give me the confidence to talk about him more and even write about him again. what a wonderful thing gifts can be :[

courtney thank you for your time and kindness and thoughtfulness and talent and all of the above ! may YOU have a merry christmas and may YOUR heart always be full <3 i am elated!! on cloud 9!!

Merry Christmas from my little corner at the @pixelcafe-network. Thank you so much for hosting this gift exchange! I had so much fun writing this for my elf @grimmweepers. Your Christmas list gave me the opportunity to write Sukuna for the first time. I wanted to lean as much into your likes as much as possible so that it feels like it's you in this story.

I hope you enjoy!

Pairing: True Form!Sukuna x Reader (Ryu)

Rating/CW: slight dark romance, fluff, implied sexual content, dark themes (references to violence, blood, destruction, and a hint of cannibalism because it's Sukuna). MDNI!

WC: ~8.5K

Summary: Sukuna gives in to mortal festivities, for the promise of a worthy gift, unaware that some traditions leave marks deeper than ancient power.

Divider: @cyberbeat @arminsumi @firefly-graphics

The winter night drapes itself across the ancient estate, stars scattered above like diamonds on black velvet. Fresh snow has transformed this formidable domain into something almost magical—though no amount of pristine white can truly soften the centuries of power that seems to pulse through every shadow of the grounds.

You used to take these walks alone, finding solace in the environment that gave way to the shifting change of the seasons. But now, on this chilly and almost silent night, your solitary footprints are accompanied by another. Deeper, more commanding treads belong to Sukuna, whose very presence seems to make the stars above burn brighter, as if they, too, acknowledge the power that moves beneath them, feeding off the cursed energy he emits with every breath.

Your exhale forms a frosty white cloud before vanishing into the night air. It’s cold, far too cold for a walk, but you’re out here to clear your thoughts, to quell the overwhelming urge to ask Sukuna a question that you don’t want to imagine the answer to.

The thought first emerged when fall gave way to winter, the autumn leaves replaced by the starkness of bare branches now hidden beneath blankets of snow. The thought of markets late at night adorned in yellow lights, of hot cocoa and gifts wrapped in red ribbon.

The words, having coiled behind your teeth for days like a spring, finally slink past your lips. “I was thinking…what if we celebrated Christmas together?”

“Christmas.” The word leaves his mouth not as a question, but as if it’s not worth inflection.

You bite the inside of your cheek, fighting your rolling anxiety. He’s never been one for new things. This is his domain, after all—his home, his formidable walls that he has erected and ruled with an iron fist. The mere thought of anyone—let alone a mortal—suggesting something outside his design is almost laughable.

You pause in your footsteps, tracing his looming shadow in the snow before you look up at him. He’s tall, looming with a height that comes not from this realm, his silhouette dwarfing everything around him. While you are covered in furs and wool and warmth, he stands in a simple black Haori, barely covering his skin and open to show his chest.

The dark markings of his tattoos glow like black embers in the moonlight, each one a testament to the ancient power that pulses beneath his skin. Two pairs of muscular arms fold across his chest, large and thrumming with strength. An archaic strength that can level cities and destroy with little effort, yet those same fearsome arms cradle you with unexpected gentleness in the depths of night.

The fact that you understand this side of Sukuna, gives you the strength to press on.

“It’ll be our first Christmas together,” you press.

“A mortal festivity,” he claps back, naturally sharp but with little heat.

“I’m a mortal,” you counter, meeting his gaze head-on, refusing to back down from the menacing glare you can see right through. “And from what I remember, I am your Queen.”

Quadruple crimson eyes narrow from your truthful declaration, their glow cutting through the frost-laden air like embers in the snow. The two on the right gleam brighter against the rough texture of his half-petrified cheek, like jagged stone contrasting with smooth flesh on the other side. “You mistake indulgence for approval.”

You shrug, nonplussed, sniffing the chilly air up your runny nose. “Then indulge me. Mortals, like myself, put up Christmas trees, decorate their homes, bake treats, and watch movies.”

He hums, taking a step toward you. As he draws closer, the air shifts. While you have no cursed energy, you’ve come to know his intimately. It presses against your skin like an unseen force, electric and stifling, its movements mirroring the emotions he tries to smother. You’ve learned to read it like your favorite book, though it’s a story only you seem privy to, and you don’t intend to let him know.

“Indulge me?” you try again.

He remains unconvinced, his characteristic indifference plucking at your cold skin as you look up at him unflinching. It’s not like he denies you often. Sukuna, for as powerful as he is, gives to your many asks with a wave of his hand as if your happiness is unwarranted, even if his gaze flickers to you minutely for praise at haven catered to you.

Your confidence has only grown steadily, but that anxiety that curls around an ask still tastes sour. So you pull out another mental note card, a line you practiced in the mirror for days for this very moment.

“Gift-giving is also another tradition,” you sigh in faux nonchalance, pursing your dry lips as you try to ignore the flicker of curiosity you see on his face. The subtle tick of his jaw, the way one of his eyes tightens just so, the feel of his cursed energy pausing in its movements as if to hear you more clearly. “I know you’d never turn down any sort of offering. Especially from your Queen.”

Only seconds of anxious silence pass before that deep hum permeates the air, a gentle give. “You use that title often, Ryu.” You shrug again, biting the flesh of your cheek to suppress the victorious smile you can feel in your muscles. “Why must I wait for a specific day of the year to receive a gift? I can simply take what I want with little effort.”

His hubris knows no bounds. Neither does your perseverance.

“You put up with a few days of Christmas cheer, and I’ll make sure you get the best gift ever. Something wonderful and fitting for the King of Curses,” you promise, hoping to bring him home with your sales pitch. “But no griping.”

Sukuna scoffs, indignation heavy in the sound as he puffs white smoke into the air. “I do not gripe.” The look you throw him is unimpressed; one brow arched in a silent challenge that grants you a narrowed-eyed glare of concession in return. “Why do you assume you will get what you want?”

He reaches for you as he complains, and despite his sharp tone, you lean into the weight of his touch. You’ve come to know the language of his hands, each gesture a revelation of the complex nature he embodies. Like now, as he adjusts the furs draped around your shoulders—precious things hunted and skinned himself. His movements are deliberate, with hands impossibly gentle despite their proven capacity for destruction.

“Because you see me,” you whisper, the words soft but heavy with meaning. They carry the weight of something unspoken, a recognition of the four-letter word he is not yet ready to voice—your understanding of his care beneath his praise, his protection weaved into his possession.

A sales pitch now seems trivial, disrespectful even, in light of how the tone has shifted around you. Shame prickles at your skin, but it fades just as quickly, overwhelmed by the truth of your words. You do see him, even when he's being stubborn.

Sukuna’s answering hum to your question—to the anxious worry that started this conversation—reverberates through the air, an unspoken approval that settles in the space between you both.

Days later, the skies bloom with gentle hues of cotton candy—pale blue and pastel pink, slowly darkening as the sun peeks on the horizon. The dawn of winter greets you with its chilly embrace, its breath sharp and unrelenting, its touch frostbitten. You’re bleary-eyed as you shuffle over broken branches and moss-covered paths in the East forest.

The weight of your determination keeps you moving, even as your body protests, regretting your tenacity because why would Ryomen Sukuna, King of Curses, buy a tree when he can simply ‘get one from the backyard.’

“I like that one,” you offer, shakily pointing with a heavily gloved finger at a modest six-footer, its snow-laden branches slumping under the weight.

“If I’m to entertain a mortal festivity, it will not be done poorly.”

You’re far too cold to point out his first gripe of the day. His voice carries that familiar edge, but beneath it rests a note that only you can hear—the same careful attention he uses when observing the movements of his enemies, now turned to the expansive forest to the east of his estate.

You close your mouth around an exhale, your cheeks puffing like a fish in your own rendition of a pout as you follow him. The forest stretches silent and vast around you, a living extension of how far his power goes. Sukuna stops abruptly, still as stone as he surveys the trees with a menacing gaze. The dominance he exudes seems to make the air itself hold its breath. You’re simply a spectator—watching an apex predator stalk its prey—it would be a marvelous sight if you weren’t shaking like a leaf.

“This one,” he declares at last, voice carrying the familiarity of pride and authority as he looks up at a magnificent pine.

It’s uncharacteristically different in every way; a shadow brown trunk as thick as his waist, strong branches that house deep green needles, forming their own canopy over the other and covered in the white blanket of snow. Its towering height practically pierces the sky, a physical representation of how the being in front of you sees himself—ambivalent and all-seeing.

With a flick of two fingers, Sukuna’s Cleave technique slices cleanly through the thick trunk. The looming pine shivers, snow plopping from its arms in white globs before it slowly falls to the ground with a muffled thud. The wind that picks up from the disturbance tousles his pink hair, strands whipping against his marked face. One of Sukuna’s muscular arms grabs his prize and effortlessly hoists it onto his shoulder.

You can’t help but admire the broad expanse of his back. The curve and dip of muscle against black markings that shift with each movement, the skin warm to the touch despite how cold he makes himself seem.

The sight of him makes you think of his Christmas gift—your secret project—the fabric carefully chosen to embrace that strength with something just as enduring. You wonder if he will notice the details, the painstaking intricacy you’ve chosen just for him.

His gift is soon forgotten when his gaze falls on you, an unmistakable glint of satisfaction in his eyes. Carmine pools that invite you to step closer and gaze beneath its liquid, to see small slivers of vulnerability presented in the form of the pine on his shoulders. He’s waiting, expecting not praise for his strength, but praise for what he has provided. An offering.

You smile gently, genuinely, and without quivering despite the temperature. “I love it,” you compliment, watching as your words card over his offering like a caress that only fans the flames of his pride. His belly mouth curves into a smirk, chuffed in agreement with its host, white teeth glistening and ghostly breath puffing in steaming plumes.

He walks to you, thunderous steps shaking the forest floor but doing little to shake you, tucking and readjusting your furs once more before ushering you back to the estate, his unspoken need for you to get warm carving a smile onto your face.

In Sukuna’s vast estate, where shadows roam, and servants move with silent reverence, there is no room for joviality and merriment. He rules unflinchingly, with a face usually etched in disinterest and a heart that beats only in the throes of violence and battle. But since you’ve set foot in his domain that he keeps dark and teeming with fear, things have changed.

Now, the halls carry the scent of your vast perfume collection, a blend of smoky oud and earthy florals that linger in the air long after you pass. The servants, once bound by fear, now offer gentle smiles to the mortal who goes against the rules of this cursed realm.

Now, the shadows walk with you, satisfying your thirst for the paranormal as they follow you like a silent watchdog, a testament to the orders of their master—a being with four arms, four eyes, and a grudging acceptance of your presence.

Now, the mortal who carved her way into Sukuna’s domain with hardly a blink, the mortal who can see beneath his veneer of bleach-white bone and hardened blood…

Now… that mortal has decided to bring Christmas to these ancient halls.

Darkness now flickers with light. Pine garland decorates the windowsills in the expansive front room of Sukuna’s estate, its sharp scent striking through the air with every brush of your fingertips along its needles. The front room, what was once empty and meant only as a tunnel to another destination, is now lively from your touch.

A tall fireplace, its mantle wrapped in garlands of cypress and silk ribbons the color of deep red wine that reminds you of his eyes, casts a warm glow over goblet-red curtains that frame looming windows and fur-lined chairs that you curl into when you read your many books.

Sukuna has molded his domain to fit your silent requests. Your Christmas spirit that Sukuna continues to entertain if only for the promise of his reward, breathes life. His spoils—the cleaved pine—stands proudly by the fireplace, its branches wrapped in shining white lights and delicate ornaments.

Uraume was diligent, while unwilling to entertain anything pertaining to mortals, their loyalty outshines their disinterest when it comes to their Queen. Said loyalty shines in the snow that rests on each emerald branch, crystalline shimmers colored amber and orange from the roaring flames of the fireplace. Their technique ensures it will never melt, an ethereal touch of winter preserved.

You can’t help the warm smile that graces your features as you admire the transformed space. But it’s the scents wafting from the kitchen that draw you from your admiration. Cinnamon and nutmeg dance with something darker, a metallic tang that speaks to how well you’ve learned to blend your world with his.

Uraume, for as menacing as a curse user they are, has the cooking skills worthy of Michelin praise. The kitchen is their sacred domain but is now a battlefield of flour and spices, mortal and ancient alike. The heat from multiple ovens warms your bare toes, and copper pots and pans clank and steam with soluble renditions of a Christmas feast.

Sukuna’s dutiful servant moves about the kitchen with practiced ease, refusing help from the other cursed spirit-like servants in your presence no matter how many times you’ve insisted that you don’t mind.

“The consistency is correct,” Uraume observes, subtle praise in their soft tone as they nod toward the ruby liquid you’ve folded into dough. “Sukuna-sama will find it acceptable.”

You hide your smile at their careful choice of words. Months of coexistence have taught you to read the subtle ways in which Uraume expresses care—their meticulous attention to your recipes when cooking for you, your happiness from delicious meals enough to mask their fondness they will never admit to.

“We’re going to make gingerbread houses,” you exclaim an hour later to an indifferent Sukuna. His presence in the kitchen is rare, and you’ve had to ignore the peep of garbled eyes from cursed spirits who poke through the kitchen doors in disbelief before scuttling away in fear of being caught.

The counter is littered with cooled cutouts of gingerbread house walls, arches, and windows. White icing in pastry bags that will serve as glue and gumdrops to be adorned as paneling is the perfect setup for this small occasion between you both.

Despite Sukuna’s menacing demeanor, he is astute. It’s why he’s achieved the status he has now, why he’s feared among the world, both mortal plane and astral. So he wastes no time piecing together his own creation, his eyebrows creased in concentration fitting of a warrior planning a siege.

As Uraume flutters around you both, you recount the tale of Hansel and Gretel, Sukuna’s crimson eyes gleaming with interest at the more gruesome parts of the brothers Grimm.

“So this witch,” he muses, two hands delicately pipping white icing for a jagged wall, his other two hands covered in flour. “She devoured children who wandered into her domain.” His eyes twinkle with approval, his belly mouth curving into a devious smirk. “An acceptable response to trespassers.”

“She built the house to lure him in,” you add, swallowing a chuckle as you feel his cursed energy wiggle around you in interest. “That’s why it was made out of sweets.”

“Why did these children not become a proper meal?”

“They outsmarted her,” you explain, watching in muted supplication as his face drops from satisfaction to disapproval. “Pushed her into her own oven.”

His belly mouth scoffs, frowning as his thick tongue tastes the spiced air. “Mortals.”

As your special cookies perfume the air with metallic sweetness, you admire Sukuna as he works. He utilizes all four hands to guide his gingerbread creation to completion, clicking his teeth when a wall crumbles in his palms and humming in delight when the icing holds steady. Your gingerbread house lays half-created as you watch him, observing in silence until his masterpiece sits before you.

It’s a fortress—walls as imposing as a cathedral’s, windows designed to daze would-be escapees. The path to the door winds hypnotically, sugar-crystal steps that seem to pulse with cursed energy, leading young feet exactly where he wants them. The final touch? Miniature figurines made of pretzel sticks and marshmallows that are arranged at the front door like an offering.

“The witch’s failure was in her execution, not her concept,” he declares. Where normal gingerbread houses invite warmth, his promises something darker—a blend of Christmas tradition and Sukuna’s deadlier inclinations. “No child would think to check for a secondary barrier here.” He speaks as if defending a dissertation, pointing to the candy canes that could easily become weapons instead of the holiday cheer they should represent.

You can’t help the laugh that bubbles from your chest, soft and genuine, as you admire his evil architecture. Four eyes find you immediately, piercing in their gaze as if defensive, yet still holding something akin to wanting your approval. Your hand finds his marked cheek, fingers tracing the tattoos that mirror all over his body. He leans into your touch with imperial indifference, wary of Uraume’s presence in the kitchen but not indignant enough to deny your warmth.

“A domain worth of the King of Curses,” you praise, watching how his belly mouth curves into the wide grin that his master does not offer. It’s more than enough to know he’s satisfied.

“And why is yours unfinished?” Sukuna asks, crossing his arms in mock reproach despite the splattering of flour on his skin and Haori. “Surely, my Queen will make something of equal likeness.”

The oven behind you dings before you can reply, and Uraume retrieves your treat, the aroma rich and spiced. You slide the steaming plate between you, the burgundy cookies still piping hot and ready for him.

“I had other priorities,” you supply, blowing on your fingers before you offer a cookie to his belly mouth. It opens wide, tongue lolling to the side like a panting dog and already watering before you place the cookie on his taste buds. He chomps loudly, sharp teeth devouring the concoction of ginger, blood, and aged spices from Uraume’s private garden—a perfect blend of your world and his. His cursed energy warms, wrapping around your waist in approval as Sukuna throws cookies into his own mouth now.

“Is this my gift?” is all he asks, satisfied but ever impatient as he and his stomach finish the plate. You don’t resist the eye roll. “It’s a very acceptable gift. However, I wouldn’t have entertained Christmas if you only wanted to cook.”

“It’s not your gift Sukuna.” You wave him off, snatching the now empty plate before his belly mouth’s tongue can lick at the blood crumbs, another heaping plate taking its place that Uraume leaves. “And don’t try to guess. You won’t get very far.”

“Hm.” He leans back slightly, one of his hands reaching to dust flour from his forearm. You roll your eyes again, choosing instead to finish your gingerbread house while he sulks. “Then it must be something more…significant. Ancient scrolls, perhaps? Found deep within forgotten temples, imbued with curses?” His voice drips with mock curiosity as if daring you to reveal even the slightest clue.

You snort, pausing mid-pipe to give him a flat look. “First of all, ancient scrolls? Really, Sukuna?” His belly mouth grumbles at being ignored, lips covered in a red dusting of cookie smacking for more. “Second of all, what would I be doing roaming around a temple? This isn’t the Heian era, despite how much you like to talk about it.”

He tilts his head, eyes narrowing slightly, more intrigued than annoyed by your commentary. “So I am wrong?”

“Completely,” you answer, biting back another laugh as you return to your task of piping green icing along a gingerbread wall to resemble bushels of grass. “Do you think your gift revolves around curses and destruction?”

“Why wouldn’t it?” he counters smoothly, his tone smug and his gaze unwavering.

You roll your eyes for what feels like the nth time in only so many minutes, feeling the warmth of his cursed energy curling around your waist again, tugging at you like a child pulling his mother’s sleeve for attention. “Just eat your cookies and stop guessing, Sukuna. You’re nowhere close.”

His belly mouth snickers as Sukuna throws another cookie into it, but his narrowed gaze lingers on you as if memorizing every shift in your expression, every subtle movement of your hands, waiting for you to slip. You have a feeling that even though Christmas is only days away, his curiosity will make it seem like an eternity.

As he often says, Sukuna indulges for you quite often. Trivial mortal instruments meant to stave off your boredom. He tells himself it’s for his own peace, to keep you from pestering him in the throne room, even though he still searches for you and longs for your presence in his lap.

One of those mortal instruments? A television. He knows what they are but has never been bothered to pay attention—an invention he dismissed as frivolous and mind-numbing. The flickering screen is often a source of laughter and comfort on one of your sleepless nights, and though he swore to never sit beside you while it played, here he is. On Christmas Eve. Reclined casually on the expansive sofa in your chambers, a disdainful sneer aimed at the annoying mortal known as ‘Buddy the Elf’, judgment radiating from his very being.

“Ryu, you cannot possibly enjoy this,” he huffs, one hand picking at nonexistent lint on his linen pants, another draped over the back of the couch, and one more cradling your soft form against him.

“Elf is a Christmas tradition!” You insist, handing a heaping hand of buttery popcorn to his belly mouth who accepts with a please grumble. Unlike Sukuna, who prefers a more…carnivorous diet, his belly mouth will eat almost anything it is fed. You chuckle softly, laying your head on his naked chest as you both watch Buddy decorate the department store into a winter wonderland. "I love it."

“He trespasses into their domain and then defiles it. Disgusting.”

“I thought you agreed not to grumble.”

“I never agreed.”

You hide your smile in the warmth of Sukuna’s side, breathing in the familiar aroma of burnt incense that clings to his skin, grounding and intoxicating. The movie plays on, you enjoying, while Sukuna analyzes each scene with the precision he’d use to raze a village. He won’t admit what he’s been reduced to—a powerful being indulging in idiotic entertainment to please the mortal lady of his estate. All for a gift that he cannot guess.

You trace idle patterns on his marked arm. Each touch makes his cursed energy flutter beneath your fingertips, electric kisses on your skin that he pretends not to notice. These are the moments you love most—when the fearsome King of Curses allows himself to simply…exist beside you, his pride softened by the peace you often bring.

“A weapon,” he says suddenly, his voice cutting through Buddy and Jovie’s shower singing.

You blink, craning your neck to look up at him. “What?”

He gestures expectantly to the room around him. “You’ve found a weapon worthy of my domain.”

You should have known the moment he stopped complaining about the movie that his attention had drifted. The fact that this is what he is thinking about makes warmth bloom in your chest. “Are you guessing?”

“I do not guess,” he insists, glowering at the television to avoid looking at you, his curiosity-tinged cursed energy betraying him. “I deduce.”

A weapon would be fitting for someone like him—his strength, his dominance, his endless hunger for power. But it’s a far cry from what he will get. You throw more popcorn into your mouth to stop yourself from laughing at just how wrong he truly is.

He’s silent only for a moment before he adds. “Why must I wait until tomorrow, when you can simply tell me now?” His logic is, as usual, rooted in authority and impatience. You chew another handful of popcorn deliberately, ignoring him as you keep your eyes glued to the screen.

Not even five minutes pass before one of his large hands brushes against the nape of your neck. His fingers card through your hair, tugging the strands—not enough to hurt, but enough to send a shiver down your spine.

You know what he’s doing. His touch feels like a predator sneakily luring in prey. You know this game—this is Sukuna feigning boredom because he’s curious, using seduction to coax you when you’re being stubborn. It’s as effective as it is dangerous. But this time, you’re prepared.

“If you’re going to ignore the movie,” you trail off, your voice a mix of seductive challenge and amusement. You twist in his lap to straddle his waist, sliding your hands up his chest, tracing your fingers around his nipples in slow, deliberate circles. He does not react, at least not on his face. But you can feel the imperceptible jut of his hips, feel his cursed energy hum up your calves, and wrap around your body like a warm fog.

“I know of something else we can do.” You’re suggestive, voice dropping to the pits of your stomach as your lips brush along the sharp edge of his jaw. The shift in power is immediate, and exactly what you want. His hands tighten on your waist, head tilting slightly, giving you better access to lavish him with praise.

“Is that so?” His voice is pitched low, heady already. “Anything is better than this drivel.”

You roll your eyes as you fall back on the sofa, your body arching under his touch as he pulls you closer. Your hand slides lower, tracing the edge of his haori where it hangs loose against his skin.

“You’re impatient as usual,” you whisper, nipping lightly at his neck. “But you’ll wait this time. Won’t you?”

His eyes narrow as if in protest. But he doesn’t answer—not with words, at least. Instead, his hands roam your body, each touch firm and possessive. You grin against his skin, knowing you’ve managed to distract him…at least for now.

“A temple,” his voice rumbles through the darkness, shaking you from the deep edges of sleep. His massive form curves around you possessively, his warmth seeping into your skin. Both of you lie tangled in the aftermath of your earlier indulgences—the sofa, the wall, and, finally, the silk sheets of his bed. All bearing witness to his insatiable need for you.

“Mmm?” you mumble, still trying to pull yourself awake.

“Built in my honor,” he elaborates without repeating himself, shaking you again with a harshness that makes you yelp and throw a glare over your shoulder. He smirks to himself as if he’s finally solved the mystery. “That is my gift.”

You groan, burying your face in your pillow, but secretly relishing in the way he can’t seem to let this go. Rolling over halfway, you peek up at him through heavy-lidded eyes. The moonlight creates a shimmering backdrop, outlining his form with silver, blood-red eyes gleaming with determination. For someone who claims to have no interest in mortal traditions, he’s relentless about this one.

“You woke me up to guess….again,” you grumble, glaring at him through a half-open eye.

“I do not guess,” he starts, ready to repeat the same phrase from hours ago. “I simply—”

“Deduce, yes, I got that the first time.” You cut him off and surge up to give him a kiss, feeling his surprise for only seconds before he melts into your affection. “Go to sleep.”

“A secret text,” he murmurs against your lips, undeterred even as his arms pull you closer. “Written in blood.”

You grimace before answering with your lips on his again, your leg curling around a thick waist, ready to use the ammo from your arsenal just like a few hours ago. “Do I need to distract you again?” you ask, lifting an eyebrow.

The midnight air watches with bated breath as Sukuna rolls on top of you, his towering frame rousing the tingle between your legs.

“I know your method of distraction,” he whispers against the skin of your neck. His belly mouth kisses the skin of your inner thigh, licking its lips at the promise of what you might offer if you’re willing. “Considering you are no novice, one might think that you keep secrets from your King often.”

Your affronted laugh dissolves into a sigh as both stomach and Sukuna adorn your skin with wet kisses—one along the vein of your pelvis while the other works at the skin behind your ear. “O-one might think,” you manage, gasping as his mouth finds the pulse in your neck, “that my King is simply impatient for Christmas morning.”

“It is already past midnight,” he growls at the feel of your touch drifting lower, his cocks already throbbing and oozing precum. “Merry Christmas.”

“A proper Christmas morning!” you correct with a chortle, smacking his chest playfully. He hums noncommittally, the sound vibrating through you both, possessive and yet tender in a way that only you are privy to. “A few more hours. Let me wake up properly.”

With those final words, you promptly roll over, denying him any more sensual touch that could ignite the early morning. Sukuna, used to your defiance, simply grumbles at your withdrawal, choosing instead to press searing kisses along the naked skin of your back. They ignite the embers in your belly but are not persistent enough to tempt you further.

“A domain expansion,” he insists, inhaling the perfume at the dip of your spine, lips brushing the soft skin there.

“I can’t even do that.” Your voice is heavy, the dredges of sleep finally pulling at your consciousness.

“More blood cookies.”

You remain silent, using his solemn guesses as music to lull you back to sleep.

Sukuna can feel your presence even deep in sleep, his cursed energy wound tightly around you like a second skin, always attuned to your warmth, your breath, the way you shift beneath the covers. So when that connection shivers—when his energy touches only empty space—his crimson eyes snap open. Your side of the bed is still warm, a ghost of you lingering on his silk sheets.

He can still feel you in the estate, so he rises slowly, surveying his chamber. He takes in the transformation--the pine and silk ribbons that are around the mantle now present in his chambers, and the smell of cider and blood cookies that still wafts in the air around him. Resting along one wall is a beautiful vanity carved from marble with obsidian-lined mirrors and velvet surfaces adorned with your plethora of fragrances. The table near his window is littered with books, a speaker—another mortal instrument—rests quietly, no classical music that you enjoy playing.

His room—once untouchable, dark, and sacred—is now infused with you. It should feel like a violation, his personal sanctum defiled with the touch of a mortal. And yet.

His body is no longer cold in the halls because you thrive in warmth. His servants may bow in fear to him, but they smile at you. Shadows, once tools of terror, are now a source of protection and amusement, a manic gleam of fascination with the otherwordly preventing you from being fearful.

His emotions are still a mystery, but slowly unfurling like petals that have been sleeping for many winters. Anything besides strength and power, besides determination and tenacity are weak—should be weak. But you feel these emotions plenty, and to Ryomen Sukuna, you are far from weak.

The soft yellow lights from the pine tree spill against the floor, welcoming his bare feet as he enters the large living room that has come to life because of you and for you. He won’t admit it out loud, the pride that surges through his chest like a rushing wave when he looks at the tree. A pagan symbol meant to honor a god that is not himself, willingly brought into his domain by his own hand, a rare sight in his forest that only his eye could catch. He cleaved it. He carried it upon his shoulders. He cupped the approval in your eyes like water in a shallow pool in a drying desert, sacred and coveted.

His efforts have become yours, decorated in tinsel and ornaments, in obnoxiously bright lights and snow that will never melt. And you sit next to it, your silhouette glowing against the roaring fireplace, your gaze looking up at what he’s allowed you to have. You noticed his presence long ago, but you remain transfixed with the tree, a soft smile gracing your features as he draws closer.

“It is far too early,” he rumbles, his voice gentle but heavy in the silent Christmas air. “Come back to bed.”

You huff in reply, not bothering to offer words even as he sinks down next to you. His arms crossed over his chest, his legs folding in to sit with grace on the fur-covered floor. This close, he can smell another fragrance that you collect, a smoky Oud that coats your skin like a second skin.

It’s one of his favorites, yet another thing he will not admit, but you know. You know from the way he buries his face in your neck at night, his chambers shrouded in darkness beside the slanting of moonlight on his sheets, his cursed energy caressing your skin in appreciation.

“It’s a great tree, you know,” you sigh, wistfully. You hope to keep the tree up and lit long after Christmas passes. It’s a wonderful sight, a depiction of a past life before you became aware of the unknown, of curses and spirits, sorcery and realms besides Heaven and Hell. To see it now, in the domain of a powerful king, shining brightly as if the one who cut it down did not have four arms and eyes. “It’s strong…resilient.”

“Of course it is. Who do you take me for?” he snaps, tone not holding any heat as his sharp gaze looks at you from head to toe. He leans imperceptibly into you when you laugh, a sound that shakes from your robe-covered chest and into the warm air, the shadows catching it as if they are fireflies in the night.

You finally pull your gaze from the tree, looking to Sukuna and he refuses to let you hear the hitch in his breath. He refuses to tighten his jaw or let you hear the click of bone as he fights the urge to openly bask in your gaze. “I have something for you.”

You grab a box beneath the tree, the only object that decorates the skirt. You’re climbing into his large lap before he can protest, willingly invading his space without fear of the consequences. For others, a swift death. For you, a subconscious shift in his form, one of his arms falling behind you and hitching along your hip to steady you on his thigh.

“I hope you like it,” you muse, shrugging with indifference to shield your anticipation. “I know "human sentiments" are not your specialty.”

The hands not holding your back trace along the red ribbon, silky soft and tied neatly by you. But before you can push the box more insistently into his hold, his hands slide under yours, firmly stilling your movements.

One of his hands reaches behind his back, his form shifting closer before he presents you with his own box. It’s smaller than yours, crafted in dark, polished wood, the flames from the fireplace glimmering along the surface.

“How can I let you meddle and not have anything to counter it with?” It’s all Sukuna offers, tone low and edged with something warmer than usual. He places the box in your hands, his gaze heavy on your face as though waiting for a reaction. Truly, the thought of him getting you something had not crossed your mind. Sukuna seemed more than willing to put up with your holiday antics if only to get something in return. So the weight of the box in your hands, cool against your palm, feels substantial.

Your fingers tremble as you lift the lid, the dark wood creaking softly. Nestled inside a bed of rich blue velvet, is something that steals the breath from your lungs. It gleams against the firelight as you pick it up, its crystal surface refracting shards of gold and crimson that dance across your body. The shape is elegant yet otherworldly, the surface etched with markings that you’ve come to see throughout his estate. A stopper made of black Onyx crowns it, carved into a teardrop that you pinch and pull to open.

The scent curls into the air, smoothing beneath your nostrils in a delicate yet commanding embrace. It’s sharp at first, with notes of what you recognize as juniper and lemon, fresh and crisp like the frost that curls on the windows in your chamber. You’re an expert in fragrance, so it doesn’t take you long to detect the undercurrent of bergamot and pepper, adding an edge that’s reminiscent of Sukuna’s power—lurking beneath the surface.

It seems as if the notes are never-ending. Pine needles and incense weave into a rich, earthy warmth, like the forest you both walked through to cut down the decorated pine that rests behind you. Amber and balsam provide a sweetness that lingers with its base notes and a touch of vanilla. Finally, the richness of cinnamon adds a spicy conclusion, as if kissing your skin before it fades into the morning air.

“You didn’t,” you begin, mouth suddenly dry, your eyes quite the opposite. “You made this…?”

“Do you think anyone else could, Ryu?” he counters, his tone holding a rare softness that you wish you were more levelheaded to preserve forever. A hand not resting on your back drifts along your shoulder blades, caressing in a mixture of observance and reverence. “It is yours.”

Like everything else in this domain.

That is what he wants to add. Is what curls at the tip of his tongue. But he uses your fluttering eyelashes to distract that urge that throbs in his chest. Uses the sight of you resting the perfume carefully back in its velvet encasing before closing the wooden box as if it might break.

“It’s beautiful,” you finally whisper, uncaring of how shaky you sound. The gift is uniquely Sukuna, deeply reflecting his essence but still having you in mind. “Thank you.”

He offers that characteristic hum, rumbling through your body and clenching around your heart with a force he’s not yet ready to acknowledge. His belly mouth curves into a smug grin, but his eyes are still on you as if searching for something.

“Another example of my indulgence that you mistake for generosity.”

The way his cursed energy hums around you, warm and protective, tells you otherwise. And it only serves to make you laugh, finally wiping the tears from your cheeks and gently setting the wooden box on the fur rug beneath you both.

“Uh huh,” you tease, snickering at his frown you can see right through. You finally pick up your box, the surface warmed by the fire, now resting in his hands. The teasing air around you both falls to the wayside, hushed anticipation taking its place.

He’s spent days pestering you about what he would get, and now, with you on his lap and his massive hands cradling the box with unexpected gentleness, his curiosity morphs into something else. A prize he’s excited to have and now afraid to open. Not in fear—Sukuna has no room for fear—but in anticipation.

It takes everything in you not to snatch the box and open it yourself, but eventually, he does, and the purse of his lips and the narrowing of his eyes fall before you like a book as old as time finally opening.

The silk is as dark as the shadows that roam these halls, shimmering like oil in water as it slides along Sukuna’s thick fingers. To anyone else, the material would simply be silk. But to Sukuna, he can feel the cursed energy that pulses along it, no doubt stitched together with a cursed thread strong enough to embrace him and yet still soft to the touch.

You had no way to conjure or control cursed energy to weave into the fabric, so you had to turn to Uraume for help. Their frosty hands had guided yours, harnessing the cursed energy necessary for you as you wove the threads, ensuring the haori could hold the weight of Sukuna’s power while remaining as delicate as the intentions behind it.

The silk mirrors the intricate markings on his skin, its edges dyed in gradients of shadow and blood.

“It’s a Haori,” you finally speak, soft and given space so he can observe his gift without hurry. “It’s all you really wear, so I thought crafting something of my own would be….nice.”

Words gather on his tongue, and then scatter like leaves in a storm, too feeble to express the weight of what he feels. He knows that a simple hum of approval won’t be enough—not this time. Not for you. But as he readies himself to speak, opening his mouth just so, his breath catches when he looks inside one of the sleeves.

The inner lining is adorned with ancient symbols sewn in patterns only he would recognize, the same ones you’ve felt him trace in the air around you when he thinks you’re sleeping, offering protection for when he cannot be near you. They shimmer faintly, their glow deepening in the shadowed folds of silk and fading when touched by light—a testament to the darkness he commands and the solace he finds within it.

“Ryu—”

“At least put it on,” you interrupt, voice slightly shaky and betraying your exposed nerves. You hold the garment delicately, taking it from him and helping each arm through the sleeves. The silk moves like smoke around his massive form, designed to accommodate while maintaining the elegant lines that befit a being of his stature. Your eyes are on his skin, focused on the hem of his lapels as you trace over it and rest your hand on his chest.

“There,” you whisper, smiling but not looking up at him. His heart is steady beneath your palm, not fluttering like a bird in a cage, and you’re not sure whether to be upset that your gift doesn’t make his heart race. “It looks good on you.”

It fits him perfectly and thrums with a warmth that echoes the temperature blooming in his chest. That three-letter phrase—that elusive word that’s made his lip curl in disgust since the beginning of time, now pounds in his ears from the garment that sits on his skin.

It’s not just a garment—it’s an acknowledgment of who he is in his truest form, a declaration that you see his beauty in both his power and his evolution. The way it drapes over his marked skin, how it seems to pulse with its own life in response to his cursed energy—these details speak to your understanding of him, how you’ve learned to…love both the demon and the subtle changes your presence has wrought in him.

“You see me,” he finally speaks, uncharacteristically hushed. You see him—demon and protector, destroyer and creator, ancient force and the being who has learned to nestle mortal joy in hands only meant for destruction.

They’ve always been directed at you. Not from him. He’s never said them before. He’s never really known how, and part of him has always been envious of how the words can fall so effortlessly from your lips.

He’s never said them before. And yet now, at this moment, it feels like if he doesn’t act, the opportunity will be lost forever, forced down into the pit of his belly for who knows how long.

You hold your breath when you feel one of his hands cradle your cheek, massive enough so that his fingers card through your dark hair.

“And I see you, Ryu.”

The words feel like a promise. Like they will probably be rare but will only hold more and more weight as time goes by. And that’s okay for you. To be in his presence. To open him up and show him that he is capable of something gentle enough to hold you. That’s your gift that you will never need to wait until the 25th of December for.

His belly mouth is unusually silent, but his cursed energy tightens around you like a caress. Warm and vibrating, a protective weight that will remain around you for as long as you breathe. It speaks volumes that his pride won’t quite let him voice.

You lift a hand to rest on his cheek, tracing along the smooth skin that gives way to the rough texture that wraps around his right side. His two eyes on this side are more narrowed, encapsulated in the hard surface around it but still oozing dominance that could make others cower and definitely not come closer like you do. You cup his jaw before finally meeting his gaze—soft meeting a harshness that will never affect you, love meeting the beginnings of the same that linger beneath crimson pools.

“I see you too, Ryomen.”

The sound of his name makes his chest tighten, the organ behind his sternum pounding irregularly for only a second before falling back in line. His given name is forbidden for any who wish to speak it in likeness—he will only tolerate the name ‘Ryomen’ if it is wrapped in fear, or if it falls from your lips.

The silence lingers for what feels like forever, his hands holding you on his lap while he lets you map his face. Your heart flutters, happiness pulsing through your veins with every beat, cataloging every aspect of this moment in your mind forever.

“There is one mortal tradition,” he finally muses, his voice carrying that particular note of mischief that always makes your breath catch, “that I find…acceptable.”

It’s the kind of tone that usually follows lips along your skin and hands between your thighs, reminiscent of a man who can only bask in vulnerability for moments before shifting to something heady and tinged with lust.

Before you can question his motives, one of his hands lifts to hover above you both. His cursed energy manifests between his fingers, dark and potent, morphing itself into something that makes you snort in delighted surprise. Dark tendrils grow slowly from the mass of energy between his fingers, twisted and mangled to form branches, its leaves pitch black with berries that gleam like drops of blood.

A twisted version of mistletoe, the only representation that would be acceptable to someone like Sukuna.

“Of course, you’d make it look menacing,” you tease, giggling softly as his other arms draw you closer to his chest. His belly mouth snickers from below you, ready to join his host in whatever is planned. One of your fingers traces the metal of his gauges, your eyes narrowing in playful indifference.

“Then I advise you to have one ready for next year.”

Your heart stops, lungs seizing in your chest as the words tunnel into one ear and out the other. Next year. The idea hangs in the air, fragile and precious—proof that even Ryomen Sukuna, with all his arrogance and dominance, is willing to entertain a future with you.

The mistletoe pulses above you, casting reddish shadows across your faces, and you don’t need to think any longer as you lean in to slide your lips along his. His hands widen the expanse of your back, your robe slipping off your shoulders to hang in the crevice of your elbows, the heat from the pulsing mistletoe spreading over your chest. The naked feel of you against his torso pleases him, and beneath the prideful smirk against your mouth, beneath the snicker from his belly, you taste that four-letter word in his mouth, siphoning as much of it as you can before you pull away and rest your forehead against his.

“Merry Christmas,” you whisper against his lips, your body warming even further despite the heat from the fireplace.

He offers that hum—that characteristic hum that means so much.

Acquiescence.

Agreement.

I see you.

The mistletoe falls to the floor, crunching beneath your weight as Sukuna lays you on the fur, hands tracing your waist, sliding along your spine, hiking your legs around him. He doesn’t speak, content to admire you beneath him—a mortal without cursed energy who loves perfume, the paranormal, and classical music. A mortal who hates spiders, but loves Gothic architecture, monsters, and the many books that line his walls.

A mortal who has crawled beneath his skin and nestled there, unwilling to leave. And he’s too ashamed to admit that he gave up trying to pry you from inside of him a long time ago.

You throw your arms around his neck, impatient and tired of his staring, carding your fingers through deceptively soft pink hair to pull him down so that you can once again honor this particular tradition—one that, like everything else between you, has been transformed into something uniquely yours.

Merry Christmas, @grimmweepers !!!!

[abyssalpriest]

Actually, have this comment on the godhood document

From Lev, original post:

What you need to know is this: The common denominator in magic, incarnation, and godhood is all about types of body creation in order to influence the part of reality you want to influence, creating a body of that type (or nearest to it as you can) to play with it. Magic - or the Priest's understanding of what is classed under that word - is very relevant and begins to explain what a god does and is, which is basically a constantly sustained and expansive set of spells or what is tapped into when doing spells that reaches out into reality.

(...) to consciously go and interact with something distant to you whether physically distant or conceptually, you need to take up a form that interacts more strongly with your intended target.(C1)

Comment from today:

D: Question. This kinda implies moving outwards right, bodies to bodies to bodies as you implied in the whole magic being about finer and finer bodies until dissipation. What's stopping incarnation of... we'll say sort of stitching yourself from one part of manifested existence/Reality to another - what's the efficiency of creating body chains rather than creating just two bodies?

L: You need to look at why consciousness incarnates in the first place. Take your plane for existence. Physical bodies require constant sustenance to move, right? Yet it's so much more efficient and costs less energy to navigate, change, manipulate, so on this plane than trying to do so from "behind the veil" so-to-speak.

You have to understand that Matter is a state of the world's being, Matter affects Matter more strongly than Consciousness does, and vice versa. Think of it sort of like... loading a game and keeping files loaded rather than trying to load and put back data every single millisecond of a simulated game. Matter is memory, is Consciousness solidified, it sort of references and is the references for all the things Consciousness is the on-the-fly equivalent of, it lowers the processing power of God needed to sustain and change reality. If you wanted to alter a document, would you type it out from scratch every time? Or would you simply save a copy - even many copies - of the document and alter that instead?

Having many copies of the same thing seems like it wastes more processing power than typing it from scratch each time, but really, no. It is far easier to incarnate into a physical body than to, at each and every moment, be pushing things "through the veil" to kick a ball down the street. An immense amount of energy would be used... But take advantage of the saving and memory and data collections in the world? Efficiency, wouldn't you say?

[angelwishess]

𝜗𝜚 Floyra Intro Post !

❝Because theres no one on the land or in the sea more in sync than those two.❞

|| playlist. || moodboard. || pinterest quotes. || pinterest board. || (<- in the “Dynamic w Floyd” section!) { A more “emotional” yap session of Floyra and how much deeper their relationship is }

— Floyra Content Masterlist

Floyra is the ship of my main oc, Kyra and Floyd! Kyra is my Yuusona twisted from the Disney Princess Stereotype.

This intro post is just to graph out the timeline and details of their relationship. Funfacts at the end :3 (Fair warning though, this ended up being SUPER long… So feel free just to skip to the funfacts if you want HAHAHA)

Please note I may or may not have changed some things in the canon storyline for my own amusement hehe. Nothing too major though.

Tropes :

Idiots to Lovers, Bestfriends to Lovers, Soulmates, literally the DENSEST people ever … Actually they’re more like cowards. Mutual pining, mutual SIMPING they ADORE eachother they are absolutely WHIPPED, chaotic lovey dovey couple, tooth-rotting fluff, no i mean seriously this is the fluffiest ship EVER, they make eachother both better and worse simultaniously. They share the same braincell. Basically already a couple before they even start dating but they dont realize it.

Kyra: “What?? Ofc we’re not dating lmao wdym we’re just friends!!” <- just held his face tenderly and looked into his eyes adoringly while calling him the prettiest boy in the world and kissing his face all over

Floyd: “yeah lol why would u think that” <- arm around her waist, basically always looking at her with a dopey grin and heart eyes

First Impressions

When Floyd heard that there was an unexpected appearance of a magicless student at the entrance ceremony that blazed in with a flaming fire tanuki and set fire to the mirror chamber, he was intrigued. When he learned that very same student was, quite literally, from an entirely different world, he was even more intrigued.

Not to mention the fact she lived in that rundown, deteriorating 'dorm' that was literally called Ramshackle, and she was almost expelled with two other guppies on the very first day of school.

But, when he saw her for himself he was... Disappointed.

Often times she just stood by the sidelines, seemingly in her own world with a far-off look in her eyes and an empty smile that ticked him off for no apparent reason.

She never reacted to anything, letting people walk over her like some sort of welcome mat. Somehow, she didn't even feel alive.

To put it bluntly— Floyd thought she was boring.

Just a wimpy, puny little shrimp who didn't even have any magic. Who wouldn't even run away if her life was on the line, weak and defenseless. Naive. How boring, and here he thought he had another play thing... But wheres the fun if he doesn't get a reaction out of it? How lame.

Kyra and Floyd only officially met during book 2.

Kyra passed by Floyd a bunch of times before— but never actually ‘saw’ him. Floyd on the other hand, already had an opinion of Kyra.

Seeing her just simply standing by the sidelines again and saying nothing and just… Staring. He decided to finally approach her straight up.

Deciding to give her a squeeze for the fun of it— he didn’t expect at all for her to hug him back and basically turn the situation on him instead. It flustered him, and made him walk away from the whole scene out of confusion and embarrassment.

Despite everything, Kyra thought Floyd was amusing. and insanely pretty.

Building Interest …

As time passed they seemed to keep catching glimpses of eachother. And with each passing day, she seemed to get more and more... Interesting.

Facing overblots despite having no magic, causing trouble left and right and getting into such ridiculous situations it makes you wonder how she does everything she does without getting tired of how absurd it all is.

When his first impression of her was her being ‘boring', his second was her being naive. How else could you explain it? She had to be either ridiculously brave or incredibly stupid and naive to do the things that she does.

Kyra, however, noticed Floyd from time to time. She noticed how he’d say and do things without caring how other people viewed him. He did things because he wants to, and doesn’t because he doesn’t want to.

He was so… Free. So unapologetically himself. So full of life, and genuinity. He was alive. Kyra couldn’t help but be a little jealous… Couldn’t help but admire him. Because everytime she looked at him, and saw him… Being him, she always wondered: Could I be like that, too?

Kyra and Floyd don’t have any notable interactions until the main events of Book 3.

When Kyra decided to strike up a deal with Azul to free all of the students under a contract— Floyd thought she was stupid. Naive, and way too easy of a target. It was laughable. It basically confirmed everything he thought of her.

As Floyd and Jade were monitoring Kyra and Grim as they packed up their things, Kyra acted as if nothing major was happening. Talking to them and cracking jokes like they were old friends. It was then Floyd and Kyra found out they might be more similar than they thought, saying the same things at the same time and holding the same opinions.

When Kyra almost dropped a bag of her things, Floyd helped from impulse. He laughed it off, but Kyra decided to give him a kiss on the cheek as a ‘thank you’.

He froze in place. Not expecting that kind of reaction from her once again, and just kind of… Staring at her as she passed. Jade had another laugh at his brother.

When Kyra first saw Floyd in his merform, he took the chance to try and scare her a little. Just for fun. But just like before— it totally backfired, and Kyra just looked at her with the same wonder as she did the first time. She had the nerve to call him ‘Beautiful’ under her breath, too.

So, Floyd simply swam away after realizing she wasn’t going to give him the reaction he wanted, deciding to play with someone who will.

But when he tried to attack a nearby friend of hers— She punched him straight in the face! A fire burning in her eyes as she straight up threatened him.

Floyd was… Confused. Confused about Kyra, i mean. One moment she was staring at him like he was a of work of art, the next shes throwing hands at him with zero hesitation. He thought she was a pushover— but maybe he was wrong.

She had guts, though. Thats for sure. A magicless little thing like her deciding to put her hands up and fight, even threatening him? A 13ft long eelmer that could rip her apart without a sweat? Something about it.. Scared him a little. Ending up with a bloodied nose, staring down someone who didn’t show any fear or any regret.

Floyd always wanted a challenge. But did he expect that challenge to come in a 5’7 package, decorated with pretty pink bows? No, not at all.

But thats something. And boy, does Floyd love the thrill of the unexpected. After this interaction that past intrigue he had in her before came back 2 times stronger.

It only worsened when Kyra’s little plan to destroy Azul’s contracts actually worked… And Floyd got chills seeing the look on her face.

It was so unlike what he thought of her. A big, smug grin. The face of someone who knows they already won. It was almost malicious. And it was then he realized— she wasn’t as dumb or as naive as he thought she was, either.

But when they got back to the Lounge, it so happened that Leona seemed to have missed one, single contract. When they spotted it, Kyra was the first to react. Managing to grab it before Azul.

Azul wasn’t too happy about it, screeching and yelling for her to give it to him, grabbing her while doing so.

And in that moment of tension, of fear and action, she did something that shocked everyone. In the face of danger, she held the sole contract tightly in her hands and she—

…She ate the contract.

She shoved the glowing papering in her mouth, and swallowed the thing. And it worked. Honestly they didn’t know which was more ridiculous… Her decision, or the fact it was a success.

She grinned so widely, so proudly. She had the nerve to even laugh in Azul’s face. “Yeah, thats right! Screw you, octoboy!”

Floyd couldn’t surpress the laughter that bubbled up his throat watching it all go down. The sound of her laugh ringing in his ears. It was just so… Ridiculous. She was ridiculous.

She had just outsmarted Azul… And the best solution she could think of was to eat the contract? It was downright cartoonish!

But when Azul overblotted, Floyd got to see Kyra in action. He was surprised all over again. But he should be used to it by now, he should expect it. She just keeps surprising him.

She was no pushover— rising up to the challenge when needed. Even if she still acted unserious, even if she acted goofy and wild, she still got down to business and made it work nonetheless.

And he realized she wasn’t anything like what he thought of her before. She was… Nothing like what he thought. Always surpassing his expectations of her no matter how much they changed.

Everytime he thought he had her figured out, she goes and does something that makes him rethink it all over again…

She was very, very interesting. And now, shes got his full attention.

Strangers to Besties!

After the main events of Book 3, Floyd had started following around Kyra more often. Actually, scratch that. He started following her around constantly. She eventually apologized for punching him in the face, too. Surprisingly.

Realizing they were actually very similar, they began hanging out more and more, until they eventually became an inseperable duo that everyone knew about.

At first, most were surprised. Kyra had only just started coming out of her shell, so most were still under the impression she was a sweet, mild mannered young girl.

But after befriending Floyd— all of her self-control truly did go flying out of the window. If she was bad before, she was even worse now. Freely skipping classes more often without a care to go find Floyd, trying to juggle live fish in the courtyard, or jumping out of a window just to escape some of the staff. and the like.

Late night adventures, dancing in the rain, sneaking out of class, spontaneous hang outs and sleepovers, pulling pranks and causing trouble left and right… They were so in sync, its was scary. Kyra was almost like a second Floyd, and everyone knew that it was probably best to run in the other direction when you see them side by side.

No matter what the situation, they always had eachother’s back, too.

It was strange to think they were ever strangers. They felt like they’ve known eachother for years— thats how well they’ve grown to know eachother. They were as thick as thieves!

Hanging out everyday, whenever they could, they just had so much fun together all the time!

To everyone’s dismay, of course. They were far too in sync, if the chaos around one of them was bad it combined when they were together.

Floyd finally found someone who could keep up with him, and even better, keep him on his toes. Kyra surprised him everyday, and thats what he loved. He found someone who understood him, too.

Kyra on the otherhand, found someone who encouraged all of her once repressed desires. She found someone she could be herself with, with no fear of judgement.

Never one without the other, those two. Wherever Kyra was Floyd was surely close to follow, and wherever Floyd was Kyra was most definetly near. They followed eachother around, always stayed close to one another.

Slowly, they’ve grown to not only seek eachother out to go and have fun, but also for comfort.

Platonic ..?

What started as a simple friendship which focused on the high of ‘having fun’ and causing trouble, or just basically being partners in crime— slowly turned into something much more… Intimate.

When Floyd stormed all the way to Ramshackle after a bad day at Mostro Lounge, he didn’t really know what to expect, he just wanted to get away from everyone else and Ramshackle was the best place he could think of.

He didn’t expect Kyra to be so caring. Pulling him into her arms and running her fingers through his hair while encouraging him to rant.

Kyra had always been an affectionate person, he knew that. It started small— little kisses on the cheek and forehead from Kyra to him, hugs and the like. But this was different. It felt different, atleast.

The way she held him felt different, and the way her lips gently kissed his skin made all of the stress from before sizzle into nothing.

He couldn’t help but melt, and before they knew it this became a routine for them, too.

They grew to find themselves comfortable being vulnerable around eachother. Showing sides of themselves to eachother most wouldn’t see. And they knew eachother better than anyone else did.

Simple, friendly touches became something more. The playful wrap of Floyd’s arm around her waist became tighter, and Kyra’s touches on him lingered for longer. Suddenly the playful ‘I Love You’s didn’t seem platonic anymore— atleast not with the way they looked at eachother while they said it.

Simply seeking eachother out to go cause chaos turned into seeking eachother out to just simply be in eachother’s presence instead. Whatever activity they did started to come second, and as long as they were together they were as happy as could be.

Of course, they never recognized this change. In their point of view, they’ve always been like this. But everyone else can see as plain as day, that something definetly changed.

It was painful for everyone involved, really. For some reason neither of them seemed to acknowledge the obvious feelings between eachother.

Everyone could see the way they looked at eachother, the way they acted around eachother… Everything was so painfully blatant… But they still couldn’t admit it. Even when the lines between friendship and intimacy began to blur.

Realizations!

Nothing about their relationship really changed at this point. They just kind of realized their romantic feelings after being deep in denial for WAYY too long.

The first to realize their feelings was actually Kyra, believe it or not. Which is funny because shes never been the best at realizing her own emotions in general.

It happened when Floyd said something that struck her with that arrow of realization. She asked one day, why exactly does he hang around her, asking if it was because she was pretty. She was only half joking, there was a part of her that genuinely wondered why he stuck around her for so long. Even she didn’t expect this friendship to last… But it did. And she can’t imagine her life without him in it anymore.

And thats exactly why she asked. Though she was smiling, she was somewhat scared of what he’d say.

“What? ‘Course not. Why’d I ever care about something as stupid as that?”

That shocked Kyra straight to her core. It was something so simple, yet it was new to her. She, who has never been valued for anything other than her beauty.

For a moment, that facade of false bravado faded, it cracked and her smile dropped. Genuinely surprised at how quickly he answered, and how honest he seemed while saying it.

“I like you because you’re fun. I don’t give a damn about how pretty you are, if you were boring I would’ve ditched ya a long time ago! Hahaha!”

She couldn’t do anything but stare. “…You think i’m fun?” “Well— Yeah. The most fun person I’ve ever met. I’ve never gotten bored with ya, Sea Angel!“ again, it was something so simple. Almost childish, in a way.

But yet… Something like that made her heart race faster than it did when facing any kind of danger.

She swears her heart was trying to escape from her chest with how fast and how hard it was beating against her ribcage. And her stomach began to turn… Is this what they call ‘getting butterflies’?

To know that her favorite person in the world truly didn’t care about what she looked like… That for once, her beauty never mattered? That he’d never cared for it?

Again, it was so simple. Honestly it was basic human decency, but to know something like that after a life of being seen as a pretty object to oggle at, it was so, so refreshing.

But… Just as it was the first time her heart raced… It was one of the first times she was truly scared.

She was definetly panicked about it, and decided to not say a word of it to anyone. She didn’t want to ruin the friendship they had, after all he was her dearest friend. So she kept her mouth shut and continued on pretending like it was nothing.

She felt selfish having such feelings. She felt as if she didn’t deserve him, like he deserved better than her because she grew up thinking she must be unlovable. And so she kept quiet for the sake of him, too. She thought it was best for the both of them. (<- LIARRRRR!!!!!!)

Kyra had thought she did a good job at keeping everyone at arm’s length— but when she turned around she found herself in his arms instead.

She spent her entire life building up walls that were taller than her, to hide her true self from everyone else. To hide how she really feels. But, Floyd went and teared down all of those well-built walls without her even realizing it.

She never expected someone to ever be able to see her as something more than her appearance. She never thought anyone could look past the surface everyone saw as “her”. But…

Floyd… He made her feel… Normal. He made her feel human. He didn’t seem to care much about how she looked at all and that… Made her really, really happy. But still, even then. He still deserved better.

He deserved more than someone as empty as her.

So, she pretended those feelings didn’t exist. Or, atleast she tried to…

She was honestly a mess. Usually she was so comfortable doing the things they always do together. Holding hands, kissing eachother’s faces, cuddling— but now that she knows how she really feels ??? Oh, shes struggling so SO hard to keep her cool.

Shes always been good at hiding her emotions. But shes never been in love before, and its all so new to her that she doesnt know how to handle it.

In a way its somewhat overwhelming. Although she does a rather good job at keeping her inner turmoil hidden, shes still freaking out internally.

Shes still able to keep up their whole dynamic, its just now, its a little harder. Since now she had to fight back the blush that threatens to stain her skin. How embarrassing…

(She totally giggles and kicks her feet about him once shes alone btw LMFAOOO) (then immediately feels guilty after HELP)

Floyd realized a little later, it kind of just hit him one day. They weren’t doing anything in particular, he just looked at her and went “Oh. Ohhh.”

Like a lightbulb went off in his head. He didn’t say anything about it either for awhile. Eels are cowards, after all. And he didn’t know if she felt the same. So he just decided to act like nothing happened, continued this routine of theirs that they’ve grown attatched to.

Maybe there were afew times where they wanted to say something about it, to finally admit the unspoken thoughts they’ve had kept in the back of their minds… But they never go through with it. Always backing out last minute, brushing it off.

The two were cowards, dancing around their mutual feelings. Unsure of how the other felt, so they decided to just leave it all unsaid. Even if the look in their eyes said otherwise.

Saying they were just “best friends” was just so much easier. It was what they were used to, what they were comfortable with. It was easier to brush it all off as them being comfortable eachother, sharing beds and exchanging gentle touches. It was all platonic, of course!

…Though Floyd was hesitant with his own feelings. He never expected to find someone that captured his interest so much… Yet he wondered, was he ready to commit?

Strangely, there was no doubt in his mind. It was yes, it always was, yes. The moment he asked himself that question he answered it immediately at the same time.

Of course, because he realized if it was Kyra, there wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do. Man, when did he get so whipped for such a silly shrimpy?

Merfolk only choose one mate for life. And Floyd is sure he wanted his to be Kyra.

He was scared of course after realizing his own feelings. Besides Azul and Jade, he's never let anyone get this close to him. It was strange letting Kyra in like this. He didn't plan on her, not at first at least. but now that he has her, he wants to keep her forever.

Man, she just kept surprising him, huh? He never even thought he could feel so deeply for someone. But hes so glad that he found her, that they found eachother.

Difficulties…

When Kyra left with Epel, Rook and Elena during Book 6, Floyd was upset.

Thats an understatement, really. He was furstrated, worried, and somehow he even felt betrayed.

Why didn’t she tell him? Why didn’t she take him with her? Doesn’t she know its dangerous?

He knows Kyra can take care of herself, he knows shes capable and he knows she can defend herself. But that doesn’t stop him from worrying.

Throughout the span that shes gone Floyd is restless. Hes snappier, hes moodier and he cant seem to stop pacing around no matter how hard he tries.

But when Kyra gets back— he completely ignores her.

Kyra was so very confused. Actually, everyone was. This was a first for the two of them. Honestly, Kyra expected him to run towards her just like he always does. But he doesn’t.

Kyra is back, but that doesn’t change his mood. If anything, it worsens. And Kyra doesn’t have a clue why! Everytime she tries to approach him, he just turns his heel and walks away. And hes never looked at her like… that..

Kyra is a total mess. And suddenly shes not as good as keeping her real feelings at bay like she usually is. She wondered if she did something wrong? Said something wrong? Was he finally sick of her? And that was when she realized— she was terrified of the thought of losing him.

In desperation she went to Jade. Maybe she should’ve asked Elena for advice instead, but before she knew it she was sat infront of Jade, asking for help with his brother.

If anything, Jade seemed amused with her situation. Of course he did. But with a mischevious twinkle in his eye, she had a feeling he had a scheme brewing up in his head.

Maybe she should’ve known better than to trust Jade… But she didn’t really have a choice, or so she thought as much.

Something about this situation felt so… Deliberate. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but it seemed like he knew she’d come to him for help sooner or later.

After giving Kyra some advice and words of encouragement, he did something rather out of character of him. Bringing into a hug, he held her rather close to himself.

Kyra didn’t really notice this, and accepted the hug with no hesitation. Wrapping her arms around him and sighing as she melted into the well-needed hug.

Little did she know, Jade’s eyes were glued onto his brother’s figure, looming by the doorframe with a scowl on his face. It made Jade chuckle, deciding to tighten her arms around Kyra juust a little more to see what he’d do.

Of course, Floyd wasn’t happy about it. Now, Floyd is not a jealous person by any means. He has better things to focus on, other things to keep him entertained. But at moments like these, when hes already in a bad mood, he can’t help that primal instict, its in his blood after all. A moray is a moray.

Tearing her away from Jade, he drags her to somewhere else. Leaving a very amused Jade watching them leave.

And so, an argument occurs !!! Its a back and forth, Floyd mad about what he just saw, Kyra trying to explain the situation then her getting mad at him back for avoiding her like the plague.

It ended up with Floyd admitting he was mad because she didn’t tell him about her going with them, but at the same time he was mad at himself for not being able to be with her then.

Kyra realizes that, yeah, she probably shouldve let him know she was going. But she couldn’t just brush off the fact he hurt her by doing what he did, shes grown enough as a person at this point to not let her own feelings go unheard.

Reconcilliation!!! They both apologize and promise to do better, and what better way to catch up on lost time than a sleepover??

Best believe that after they made up, they went back to their normal selves as if nothing happened— actually, maybe even worse with how much clingier they are. They seriously missed eachother, seeing how much they stuck together. 😭

“Home”?

When Kyra got news of the possibility of finding a way back to her home she was in shambles. So very conflicted between the place she called home and the place she felt was home.

She knew she had to leave some day. She knew this freedom she had was temporary. She knew one day, she’d have to go back to the life she grew to despise, the life that was never hers.

She didn’t want to leave, though. Of course she didn’t. But still, she didn’t really have a choice.

She decided she wouldn’t do the same mistake and leave Floyd out of the loop. If anyone deserves to know first, its probably him.

And so, while theyre sitting on the rooftop of Ramshackle she mentions it. And Floyd is… Upset. Of course he is. Hes beyond upset, really. He just got his best friend back, now hes hearing she might be going away again? For good? Forever?

No way. He couldnt accept that, there was no way he could. But before he could even say anything— Kyra spoke first.

“I don’t want to go back. I really, really don’t.”

“…You don’t? Huh? Why?” There was a wave of relief that crashed over Floyd when he heard those words fall from her lips, his eyes glued onto the girl beside him. Hanging onto every word she says. “No. Its just… Its not my home, atleast not anymore. I dont think it is.”

“I think, this is my home now.” She chuckles, eyes glued down to the ground below. “…Because you’re here.” She says, turning to look at him. She spoke in that tone that she only used behind closed doors. When no one was looking. That soft, sweet voice she used whenever she carded her fingers through his hair and whispered sweet nothings to him until he fell asleep. It wasn’t unauthetic like the voice she used when they first met— no, it was genuine. Real. Full of adoration, of fondness. Her gaze held so much love.

“…Hah, what’re you gettin’ all sappy for, Sea Angel? Thats so cringe.” He laughed, but his heart soared. Even if it was cheesey, he couldnt help but swoon with just the way she looked at him. Like he was the most beautiful thing in the world. She always said he was the prettiest boy in the world.

She moved forward, her face leaning ever so close to his, so close he could see every line and curve of her features. He laughed at first, “Hey, what’cha tryna do, huh? What? Do I have somethin’ on my face?” He joked, but she didn’t respond. It looked like she was thinking, like she was deep in thought. “…Kyra?”

Her name left his lips for what was the first time. Hanging in the air like a silent prayer of longing, of want. And her own lips met his. Capturing it in a sweet, sudden kiss.

Time seemed to have stopped. It always felt like that when they were together, but this was different. Nothing could prepare him for that— hell, he didn’t even get the chance to kiss her back, the moment felt as if it went on forever but it was over too quickly all the same.

There was a flash of realization on Kyra’s face as her cheeks flushed a red that could rival Riddle on a rampage. Stumbling and stuttering, she couldn’t handle the embarrassment, and before he could even say anything she ran away. Leaving him on the rooftop, wide eyes and a stomach full of butterflies.

Yeah. Kyra is really stupid sometimes.

After that whole thing, she ran to Leona to let out her thoughts. He listened, though he said he ‘didn’t have a choice anyway’.

“So… You kissed him then you just.. Ran? Seriously?” “I PANICKED!!!”

Floyd and Kyra don’t really interact until Malleus’ overblot. And during the time they’re in Floyd’s dream, shes hoping he doesn’t bring up what happened at the rooftop.

Choose.

Okay soo, lets say that they really do find a way to send Kyra back home !!! Not just a possibility anymore, its there and now she actually has to choose.

Of course, the decision was already made a long time ago. She knew from the very beginning she’d have to go home, but she doesn’t want to. Not at all.

Floyd is the most upset about this, to no ones surprise. Is she seriously just going to get up and leave? Just like that?

All of those moments together, all of those times they shared… Did it mean nothing to her? At all?

“I’ll always be right by your side!” Liar. If that were true, she wouldn’t be leaving.

“I’ve never met anyone like you, you’re the best person ever!” Then why are you choosing to leave?

“You can always count on me, alright? I’ll be here for ya, no matter when or where.” —Liar. “Its okay, let it all out. Im here for you.” Liar.

“Mm, after we graduate… Wouldn’t it be fun to live together? Haha, I just couldn’t imagine a day without you in it.” Liar.

“I love you, Floydie!” Liar. Liar liar liar liar.

All those times, everything she’s ever said that stuck to him like glue, it all came rushing back to him. Yet instead of the warmth and fondness it usually brought to his heart, it instead felt cold. It felt like betrayal, cold and cruel.

How could she do that? Say all those things then just leave like it all meant nothing? How could she leave like they didn’t share all those memories together? As if they never held eachother through the cold nights and whispered sweet nothings? Giggled like little kids while peppering kisses on eachother’s faces, ditching classes to go have a day out in town— kissing on the rooftop?

How could she leave just like that? Like it all meant nothing. Like he meant nothing, to her?

To say he was angry was an understatement. He was that and more, a raging storm of emotions, and Floyd has never been one to control them the best.

Unlike what happened after Book 6, this time Floyd confronts her directly. It ends up as an argument, Floyd not understanding why shes choosing to leave Twisted Wonderland if she doesn’t actually want to, and Kyra not wanting to “bother” Floyd with how she truly feels.

Kyra keeps her reasons secret, mostly. Just as she does with the rest of who she is. She wants to tell him, she really does. She hates having to keep things from him but she thinks its for the best.

She just wants the best for him, and she thinks that her leaving will be better for him. So she won’t be a bother anymore, so he wouldn’t have to worry about her anymore.

While Floyd doesn’t understand why Kyra is choosing to leave, Kyra doesn’t understand why Floyd is so upset about her leaving.

Why is he so persistent? This is for the better. They’ve had good times and god, will she miss it all dearly. Not just miss it, but yearn to relive their time together again, and again, and again.

Kyra doesn’t truly understand how much she actually means to Floyd. Its never even been a possibility to her that he could ever love her more than a friend.

And so, they have another argument. And unlike the last one, it doesn’t end as well. They end off on a rather bad note, Floyd saying something that he really shouldn’t have and leaving Kyra all by herself.

She didn’t cry, but god did she want to.

…Cue ink dripping cutscene here!!

Overblot.

…Yeah. Kyra overblots… (and Floyd is one of the direct reasons why LMAO)

How does Kyra overblot despite having no magic???????? Uhhhhhhh, idk plot !!!! Plot stuff !!! Plot armor !!!!!!! Something something absorbing magic from overblots n stuff blah blah blah ….

While I’m not exactly sure what happens during this, I know it happens right before shes meant to go back to her home world.

For context, I’ll try to summarize the reasons she overblots.

Kyra had never lived for herself. From the moment she was born, she was already assigned her role in life: To be the perfect princess for her people.

Only ever valued for her beauty and her status, she grew up thinking she wasn’t human simply because of how most treated her. They praised her yet their love was conditional, only ‘loving’ her when shes ‘perfect’. Only when shes ‘flawless’ like she should be. Which just meant to her that her true self must be unlovable.

She grew up lonely. Never let outside of the palace walls, she dreamed of a life of freedom she knew she would never have.

But, after waking up in Twisted Wonderland, that was exactly what she got. A life of freedom, where she began to discover her true self instead of the version of her that the public expected of her. Experiencing all of the things she never thought she would, and beginning to accept who she really is.

But of course, someone like her doesn’t deserve good things. Her birth is her biggest sin and she was meant to spend her entire life to try and repent for it. It didn’t matter how much she wanted something or how hard she fights for it— in the end, what she wants will never matter, because she doesn’t matter.

(Quote from Book 7 while talking to Malleus.)

Shes spent her whole life supressing her emotions. Building walls and hiding how she truly feels from everyone, regardless of how ‘close’ to her they are. Hiding how she feels, because she already feels like a burden with her being herself. Not wanting to bother anyone any further.

Kyra was healing. She was, she was getting better the longer she stayed in Twisted Wonderland— but all of that went down the drain once she got news of them finding a way for her to go “home”.

Everyone has her limits, and as much as Kyra tries to convince herself this is all for the better, there was no part of her that truly wanted to leave. And all of the sudden, all of those surpressed emotions from years past, comes bubbling up to the surface and bursting at the seams.

She explodes, because she doesn’t want to leave.

She ends up hurting not only herself but others during her overblot, Floyd being one of them. The two ending up very injured after the incident.

(FUNFACT!!!! The Adeuce duo were the ones to snap Kyra out of her overblot :3)

Tearful Confession.

After her overblot, Floyd was heavily injured. But that still didn’t stop him from making his way to the infirmary room where Kyra was. He paid no mind to the objections of others trying to convince him to calm down and rest, because after seeing Kyra like that, how could he rest?

He knew Kyra. Atleast, thats what he thought. But he was starting to think he didn’t anymore, and that made him even more frustrated.

Frustrated that she didn’t tell him anything, again, and frustrated that he didn’t realize just how much she was suffering all by herself.

Floyd was never the kind to make other people’s issues his own, but it was different this time. That was his Sea Angel, right? His partner in crime and best friend… The one he was sure he loves. How could he ever call himself a good mate if he couldn’t even tell she struggling that much?

He was angry, upset, sad and so worried all at the same time. A mix of emotions all swirling together in his chest and beating in his head, but they all told him to do the same thing: Find her.

Plus… That argument they had before she overblotted… He had to make up for it.

It didn’t matter if he had to limp and stumble and struggle all the way there, he’d crawl through hell and back if it meant he could be there for her. A kind of devotion he didn’t think he was even capable of, but he couldn’t imagine a thing he wouldn’t do for her anymore. Especially when he knows she’d do the exact same for him and more.

And honestly, knowing she’d do the same and more for him was exactly why he had to be there. She was so foolishly selfless at times, always putting others before herself. But not this time. Not anymore.

Eventually he made his way to her room, where she was still unconcious. Laying in the infirmary bed, looking so peaceful. She was a mess, though. Messy hair and bandages running across her body, wrapping her skin in white cloth.

He stayed there, sitting right beside her and gently laying her head atop her chest. Listening to her heartbeat. The steady rhythmn soothed him, and he eventually calmed down, putting a hand over hers as he waited until she woke up.

And she did. Awhile later, she wakes up and hes very happy and gives her a hug— but then he remembers his concerns and switches back to how he was earlier.

Floyd begins to ramble about why she didn’t tell him anything and why she just let herself get that bad. Did she not trust him? Why did she keep so many secrets from him when it felt like they never hid anything from eachother?

Kyra was somewhat confused on why he seemed to care so much. Well, mostly because she never thought anyone would really care about how she felt, being so used to her own feelings being brushed aside and shrugged off.

And then, he says it.

“Damn it!— I love you! I love you, okay? I love you so damn much but you keep doing stupid things like this!”

That makes her freeze. What is he saying?

He… Loves her? Someone like her? Someone as unlovable as her? Surely, he must be lying. He must be joking. There was simply no way that someone as wonderful as him could ever love someone as worthless as her.

He was full of life, of unexpected thrills. He was everything beautiful in life. He was electric, fun and adventurous. He was full of emotion and genuinity. Her? She was empty. A shell of someone that once was, a broken thing trying to learn to be alive too late. How could he love someone as unlovable as her? Someone who doubts her own humanity?

The words were so simple yet they held so much meaning. The way he was looking at her and holding her shoulders the mix of emotions in his eyes… She knew he wasn’t lying. After all, he was never the kind to lie about something like this.

And… She cries. For the first time, she breaks infront of him. Tears rolling down her cheeks like raindrops on a car window on a rainy day, she was trembling.

She shook her head, tried to deny it. She tried to convince him she wasn’t worth it. She wasn’t worthy of his love. She wasn’t worthy of the friendships shes made here in Twisted Wonderland, she wasn’t worthy of any of the good things shes received so selfishly.

She wasn’t good enough for him. How could he love someone like her? It didn’t make sense. None of it did. Atleast not to her.

Floyd couldn’t believe what he was hearing. If anything, he was almost speechless. But seeing her crumble like this right infront of him… Seeing the tears roll down her face and hearing the words coming out of her mouth… He was angry. Not at her, but to whoever made her feel like this.

To the ones who made her feel less than human.

He pulled her into a tight hug, “Thats not true. None of that is true. Stop it, just… Stop.” His grip on her was tight, and she realizes hes trembling just as much as her.

He could’ve lost her. That overblot was no joke, and seeing her like that… Oh, god… How could he say he loved her even after seeing her like that? After seeing her like this?

She was a mess. Teary eyes and snotty nosed, messy hair and wrapped in bandages, covered in wounds— both literally and figuratively.

He’s seen it all. Her real self, the one she was sure was unlovable. All of her ugly sides and now her darkest moment. The ugliest of all. She wants to push him away, she wants to beg him to leave, she doesn’t feel worthy of any of this, he was too good for her but…

She wanted to be selfish. She wanted to be selfish when it came to him, and she hated herself for it. No matter how much she told him to leave, his hold on her loosened, and he didn’t say a word.

After she settles down in his arms for awhile, he moves to look at her, a hand cupping her cheek and making her look at him properly.

The tears never stopped, he wondered just how long she’s been hurting like this and never told anyone. Never told him.

And… Slowly, he began to kiss away all her tears. Kyra froze, feeling his lips on her skin, gently kissing away all of the tears that fell from her eyes. Each touch filled with so much love and tenderness, it made her cry more, tears of happiness. How could he be this loving to her? It didn’t make sense. She didn’t understand.

“I love you,” he began to say over and over with each kiss. “S-stop…” Krya said inbetween sobs, but yet she didnt even struggle. If anything, she melted even more into his touch. She needed this… She needed him.

“I love how competetive ya are,” he just kept going. “Love how you look when you see somethin’ ya like.” And going, “I love seeing that stupid grin on your face when we’re about to go do somethin’ stupid,” and going.

He began to list off all the reasons he loved her, and…

“I love you, Kyra.” And she knew he meant it. She knew he meant everything he said, knew that he was being genuine and honest with her. No matter who you were, no one could replicate the way he looked at her at that moment, there was simply no way to feign emotions like that. She could feel all of the love pouring out of his words, his touch. And she knew, he loved her for her.

“How could you love someone like me…?” She sobbed out inbetween, her voice so meek and tiny. Shaky. Unlike her usual tone. “How could I not?” Was all he said. He said it so matter of factly, he couldn’t imagine not loving her.

By the end of it, Kyra was too speechless to respond with anything but… “I love you too.”

Finally giving in, Kyra hugged him back tightly, and before they knew it they were sharing a sweet kiss. Melting into eachother’s arms, and spending the entire day there, together.

And OHHH MYYY GOD FINALLY TBH. DAMN THE SLOWBURN WAS BURNINGG WITH THIS ONE !!!!!!!

“But, no more secrets, got it?” Floyd huffed, pinching Kyra’s cheek. “G-got it…” Kyra chuckled.

Kyra couldn’t help but wonder… How did she get so lucky?

“Its About Time!”

After Kyra’s choice of staying in Twisted Wonderland is confirmed, it was actually Professor Crewel and Paige that adopted her and sorted out all of her paperwork. So, now she had legal guardians, all of the needed paperwork, and basically everything she needed to stay in Twisted Wonderland without any issues.

AND Kyra and Floyd were officially in a relationship now!!!! YIPPEEEEE!!!!

Kyra is much happier now. And while theres still a twinge of guilt for not returning back to her home world, she was relieved that she was staying in her real home. Where she can truly be herself, surrounded by people who truly love her.

Kyra is still healing and trying to get better, and Floyd is right there as her biggest supporter.

Shes learning to be more open and honest about how she truly feels. And slowly but surely, she gets there.

Unapologetically showing and voicing how she really feels, and she even stopped surpressing her own moodswings.

Being with Floyd as lovers instead of just ‘best friends’ was honestly the best thing for her. Of course, there wasn’t much that actually changed between their dynamic, but still. Knowing someone like him truly loved and supported her made her unbelivably happy and hopeful.

…Though, for others, they somehow got even more annoying. And I say that with all the love in my heart LMAOO

Both Floyd and Kyra like to brag about eachother, and they somehow got even more clingy to eachother after getting to a relationship.

Seriously, its baaad 😭 do not seperate them or one of them will be biting people (/j)

Being together has allowed both of them to be completely vulnerable around someone. Although its new to the both of them… Its honestly refreshing. Its a good thing for both of them.

They make eachother better. (And worse.)

Funfacts!

Floyd was kind of scared of Kyra for a little while LMAOO 😭 shes a little TOO freaky …

Floyd has stayed over at Ramshackle so much that he’s has a bunch of stuff over there. An extra toothbrush, some changes of clothes, you name it. Its probably there. You can bet Floyd just lets himself into Ramshackle all the time, sometimes even in the middle of the night. But Kyra is always so chill about it 😭 (only because its Floyd HEHE)

Before they even started dating— behind closed doors they already acted like an old married couple 😭

Kyra and Floyd are lowkey super domestic behind closed doors, especially after a sleepover. Waking the other up with kisses ….. Helping eachother get ready for the day, helping eachother get dressed … Cooking together …….. theyre so sickening …………

Even if they aren’t with eachother all the time, they still manage to include eachother in their lives somehow. Whenever they go off on a solo-adventure, they always come back with some sort of trinket that reminded them of the other.

Speaking of, they’re both avid collectors of anything they deem cool enough. Random rocks, acorns, a lost penny, you name it. They like to show eachother the things they found throughout the day to eachother!

They have this silly little game Kyra started. She began hiding little sticky notes with sweet messages or a doodle and sometimes gifts in places she knows Floyd will find, and he’s started doing the same thing. Ever since then, its kind of become more like a competition on who can find the most sticky notes 😭

Kyra gets cuteness aggression from Floyd. Yeah thats it.

^^ she genuinely believes hes the cutest thing ever. Whatever u say queen!!!!

Floyd loves giving Kyra random gifts out of nowhere. The gifts can range from ‘a cool rock’ to a designer jacket. Kyra doesnt know which she prefers HAHAHA

Kyra herself prefers handmade gifts, so she loves to make Floyd pieces of jewelry and clothing! Shes always so proud whenever she sees him wearing something she made :3

Floyd and Kyra have been kicked out of class several times for laughing too hard.

They admitted to eachother before they even started dating that they couldn’t imagine their life without the other… can they pls take the hint omg

Floyd always feels super bad whenever he loses control of his temper around Kyra. One time he snapped at her, and he immediately apologized 😭 he told her to slap him if he ever did that again, hugged her so tight too and Kyra honestly found it so cute 😭

Floyd always perks up whenever he realizes Kyra is close by, always running straight to her. Kyra does the same thing and quite literally jumps into his arms.

Both Kyra and Floyd’s main love language is physical touch!! But Kyra loves to compliment him all the time, and Floyd loves gift giving :3

Kyra always greets Floyd with a kiss on the cheek. Yeah she started doing this before they were event dating im afraid ….

Kyra and Floyd love to read together at night, though Kyra usually falls asleep first AHAHAHA

But !! Kyra is also the first to wake up more often than not, and always wakes Floyd up with butterfly kisses on his face :3

Floyd convinced Azul to add some of Kyra’s favorite foods to the menu of Mostro Lounge just to get her to come visit more often

Kyra fights anyone that bad-mouths Floyd. Floyd doesnt know whether to find it cute or annoyed that she keeps getting herself hurt 😭

^^ SPEAKING OF, Kyra literally unlocked a much more caring side of Floyd with her being so accident-prone 😭 girlie got herself injured so much FLOYD had to step in smh …

Floyd is the kinda guy to carry Kyra if her feet started to hurt while walking or if she sprains an ankle teehee

They’re both banned from an arcade in town after they broke a claw machine and stole all the plushies inside. And other things but that isnt as important.

When Floyd feels like hanging out with her, he’ll look for her around campus then just throw her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes then just walks away. Kyra never struggles or objects and kind of just … accepts her fate 😭

Rambling…

Kyra grew up thinking the love she received will always be conditional. That she always needed to live up to some sort of expectation, and so she created a ‘perfect’ persona in order to do just that.

She still keeps that persona from the Prologue to Book 1, but begins to break away from it during Book 2– but while in her past she was only loved for the version of herself she created for others— it was the opposite with Floyd.

He disliked her so-called ‘persona’, but fell so deeply in love with her real self.

^^ she was very confused, yet so very happy.

Floyd thinks everything is fun as long as Kyra is with him <3

Kyra only ever started showing her more vulnerable side to Floyd during her character development. He was the very first to ever see her break away from the unbothered act she always put on.

Floyd was never one to let himself be so soft and vulnerable around anyone, ever. But strangely, he lets his guard down around Kyra. Kyra knows of the much gentler side to him, and she adores it so very much.

Kyra is extremely understanding and patient of Floyd and his mood swings. She knows he’d never intentionally hurt her, and always knows just how to cheer him up. Whether with a silly joke, a spontaneous adventure or just lying in bed with him in her arms.

Kyra trusts Floyd with her LIFE. She trusts him so much its ridiculous. No matter what the situation, she always feels like she can rely on him… But she wont trust him with her food. Or her plushies.

Extra: Incorrect Quotes (?)

I have more on my 🎀! twst shennanigans tag lol

[lokorum]

what would you say is your favorite jonmichael fic..... im very curious and love to reread anything in that tag

oh but how can i pick only one when they all are so good??? (,,•᷄‎ࡇ•᷅ ,,)?

aaaaaa can i make the several honorable mentions of the fics that made me scream and roll on the floor?????? pretty please???

scheherazade was one of the first jonmichael fics that i found while going through all of the cher's works because, evidently, they have no fics that are not worth reading!! (i'm sorry if and forty feet down only confirming it!!!)

sleep inertia has one of the best dialogues i ever read!!! the way cruelzy writes michael's lines??? aaaaaaaaa its so delicious and believable and never for a second i thought i'm reading something out of canon?? its just that good. 

carousel is the only one fic (from what i found) that i set in the last season and its adds a lot of layers to that big jonmichael onion that torments my eyes for a while now ldkfjgkdfjg also it's messy?? i mean the whole situation in the fic?? its so humanly complicated and it does not gives you the chance to experience any of the feelings clearly and i love it!! screechfox somehow captured all of the complicated stuff in one fic, blendered it together and for the whole time i just couldn't take my eyes away from it. 

five times michael saves jon's life and one time he doesn't have to - is here to sooth our pain and heal our wounds. i reread it so many times!! the dynamic between jon and michael in it is one to live for!!! sometimes you think 5+1 kind of fics can't surprise you anymore and then the coolest author like paisleycowboys enters the room and proves you wrong. 

to be like super honest, the 100 ways to say i love you series, when i first saw it, made me think im not gonna like it? i love my fanfics long and scary and bittersweet and with a bad-very-not-good-endings, so the title of this one made me go "hmmmmm HMMMMM hmmmmm hmmmm?" but ive started to read it anyway, theres not that many fics on the ao3 for jonmichael, we cant afford to be capricious and gosh GOSH i was so fucking wrong!!! its sweet AND sad AND scary AND awkward (in a best way!!!) AND it made me giggle so many times!!! NeedsCaffeineRightNow can make even the edgiest of us enjoy the soft kinds of fics (its not hard when they are written with so much care and love.)

POSSESSIVE!! MICHAEL!! COMBING!!! JON'S!! HAIR!!!!!! what else do we need from life?

transition, every time i reread it or think about it, makes me painfully aware of how many things should coincide for something to work. it's not one of those fics that completely encompass you; nor its the one that leaves you with new headcanons or in a good mood, no, i think it's the one that leaves you in dissoray, making you want to argue with author, to ask them what were they thinking about, pointing on your weak sides like this?, giving you something precious and then stealing it away? pushing your old bruises? that is to say, i have nothing but deep respect for indefensibleselfindulgence. to write fic that makes you want to engage in conversation? thats powerful 

Our 'Angel' of Static and Bone is written so inexplicably good, that more than once i wondered, how NeverwinterThistle was able to do it? and then i realised they are one of my fave bg3 and dishonored authors phpphp but really, the care, the effort that went into this fic? they are literally visible! you can feel the amount of time and brain juice that went into writing it. and the neighbor character? they appeared like two times?? and still their addition left me speechless with how clever it is, how different!! absolutely amazing work.

adjective noun has jonmichael chapter (11) that destroyed me as a person i swear i laughed so hard i dropped my phone and just kept giggling face-into-the-pillow style!!!!!! its rare for the fics to bring you this childish kind of pure joy; the little in-between moment of forgetting about everything, good and bad, and just have a good time. this chapter is definitely one of those rare things and it also made me wish there would be more jonmichael fics from cuttoth. somehow they nailed everything that should be nailed about this ship and did it in a couple of pages, what a magical work!! 

and well, now here's my fave fic, the one that took my head, shaked it like it's a soda can, and then left it open, fountaining at first and then dented and empty. 

I ask for nothing, but maybe I'm lying is the work that made me grateful for the fact that i know how to read in english. its....mmmm, you know that feeling when fic makes you go through literally everything? and then, as a bonus, through all stages of grief as well?

first you get hooked up by the beautiful writing style and so you know the fic is gonna be good and you get comfortable and you turn yourself off from the rest of the world and you read. 

you love pov, you love mood shifts, you love pacing, you love when scenes are short and you pause to think about what happened / you love when scenes are long and you get overloaded with the simple things that make you feel complicated emotions, you love it all. 

then you start to wish it would never finish; you look at the scrolling bar from time to time, a little bit too aware of how much there's left to read, a little bit too anxious about it. and at the same time, the fic starts to make you feel safe, confident, that at least it's gonna be alright, its gonna be that one work that will replace the canon events for you. it was the

“Oh. Oh, Archivist, no. That’s not right at all,” you say to yourself as you watch him march into artefact storage, both hands clamped around an axe. 

On a whim, you decide to save him."

line for me for sure uhhh it still hits as good as the first time too 

and then you get to the ending and you just stare at the screen. that hollowing feeling slowly spreading inside you. *sigh* its the best sort of inspiration im sure, but its the worse one too. i have no idea how possessedradios and authors like them are able to write something that kills you, then reanimates you and then makes you sit in front of the tablet drawing hours non stop. ''I ask for nothing, but maybe I'm lying" is so beautiful its scares and fascinates me, just like the podcast did. hell, better then the podcast did.  i know its silly but i even named my fisrt fanart of michael as the title of the fic 👉👈

ahhhh SO i rumbled again SORRY!!!!!!! every time someone asks something from me its either "i'll reply later" (replies 10 years after) or "tolstoy, hold my fucking beer". but i really hope that fic writers, not only those who are mentioned here but like in general? know how much they affect other people!! how their work creates safe spaces for others!! how they make readers smile or cry, even if those readers (im not pointing finger on myself idk what you talking about pgphpphph) are little gremlins that leaving comments once in a decade....................

have fun time reading!! <3

btw im working on a little fanart rn............. (expressing my deepest grattitude to ao3 johmichael writers 😳🔪)

[pencileraser1]

things i noticed/thoughts about most recent rewatches of dps (plus laserdisk deleted scenes):

whenever theres a group scene i've started watching the characters that the story isn't focusing on to see what they do and i've been having a fun time with that. pitts and cameron specifically seem to almost always be doing something interesting in the background.

hopkins!!!! my favorite minor character who somehow got character development despite having like 2 lines!!!! the last guy to stand on the desk but he did it!!!

sometimes i do like to think about what the rest of the students thought about the dead poets society, esp in alternate timeline neil lives dps keeps meeting universe. like yeah theres this guy in their class whose one of the most credited students in the school and we think he maybe started a cult. idk though. but that group runs out into the woods every few days to do god knows what and one of them keeps talking about "dead poets honor" whatever that means and holy shit welton star student neil perry started a cult.

i watched the movie with headphones. and maybe it's because ive seen this movie Far too many times and mabe i'm listening too hard but it was Really obvious sometimes when audio was added in post production. llke in the sweaty toothed madman scene when you can hear laughing and to be fair the camera is behind their heads. but it does Not look like anyone's laughing. my favorite is at the end of the phone call to chris scene where knox is like i'm gonna seize the day!! and runs up the stairs and the poets are cheering him on and neil is sort of yelling "carpe!!!!" and i could be wrong but i'm like 75% certain that the person singing is Also rsl so now neil is just speaking two times at once somehow. anyways it didn't ruin the experience for me or anything it was maybe just a little bit funny to notice but very sorry if this did ruin anyone's viewing.

people talk a lot about how rsl and ethan hawke really made their characters what they are but i have to add dylan kussman to that list. I get the impression that older versions of the movie didn't really give as much depth to cameron and watching dylan kussmans performance is like. he Knew who his character was so fucking well and it shows!! like the deleted scene of them getting clubs assigned. like i could tell So Much about cameron from that scene

for how little she actually appeared, there is an emphasis put on the fact that neil's mom smokes pretty frequently. and i think that's interesting considering neil is one of two poets shown actively smoking. neil's mom doesn't appear for very long in the movie but during that time it definitely seems like the movie is intentionally making parallels between the two, particularly in the last argument with neil's father. neil and his mother are both sitting for almost the whole time, which contrasts with his father who is standing. they are both almost powerless in this scene. they stand up at almost the same time. anyways there's a couple different possibilities for what this could mean? that i've though of? 1. to show that neil's mother is in a similar situation to the one neil is in in regards to neil's father and 2. maybe a stretch here but the theory that neil inherited his mental illness at least partially from his mother. i'm pretty sure 1 was fully intentional on the directors part, not entirely sure about 2 though

unmanned flying desket scene: it's probably cause he and ethan wrote the scene themselves but the way rsl talks in this scene feels more like the way he talks in general than the rest of the script. like briefly neil perry is talking in rsl's voice. one of my absolute favorite scenes though the sarcastic dialogue is so good.

the light of knowledge at the first shot of the film vs. todd standing on his desk at the last shot of the film paralel

[penelopesbaby]

"I’ll have a...."

Xanthus x reader

____________________________________________

The whole night had been an absolute blur. From killing off Xanthus' long lost traitor of an old friend to finding almost every alliance dead, including love who was in terrible condition. The trio, Xanthus, Dontis and love found their way back to the previously abandoned car in the middle of the woods next to the blood stained bayou.

Dontis sits in the driver seat while Xanthus sets love down in the back, sitting next to them to patch up the cuts and bruises given by audrick as a form of experimentation, test how strong the bond really was.

He was a sick man, a sad case of what tragedy can do to a person. And though Xanthus knew this, he could never feel remorse over his death. No matter how sad and "justified" his kidnapping and torture felt to audrick, Xanthus would not let him get away with the abuse he dealt to his love.

"Xanthus stop it that hurts." They whine, as he wipes a cut with the rubbing alcohol found in the first aid kit in the backseat.

"I know love but I need to patch you up, it will only take a few minutes, please be still." He replies grabbing the bandages.

In the front seat, dontis' mind is still trying to process the past few days for him, wondering if his hunter is safe, worrying for xanthus, and his lover who they only recently got back. It doesn't help that the couple in the back are yelling at each other over the pains of cleaning a wound.

He doesn't know what to do this time. For the first time, he has no words. Making a joke in a serious situation would only annoy the couple more, and words of encouragement would only fall on deaf ears. The only thing he can think of to make the situation better is... stopping for some food.

Its a perfect plan. Maybe not for xanthus, of course, but knowing his lover has had close to no food in their recent situation can only transfer the feeling of hunger and agitation to xanthus through the bond. Soothing love might fix things a little, at least he hopes.

"Xanthus stop touching me! I told you that shit stings-" "Well I need to disinfect your wounds! You've been covered in filth the past fews days what if you get-"

"Are you two hungry?" Dontis speaks above the bickering couple. "Theres uhh... a mcdonalds up ahead I think. [name] you haven't had much to eat, have you?"

The car falls quiet. Theres a moment of silence while love realizes how hungry they are before answering, "No, I haven't."

"Well let's fix that. I’m tired of listening to you two argue, so figure out what you'd like to eat." Dontis says while pulling into the drive thru.

"The line is quite long." Xanthus chimes in.

"I agree. I don’t feel like waiting and I’m sure your damsel doesn't either. Let's go inside." He responds.

Love looks around with confusion at the two unfazed men before making a statement they thought was obvious.

"We can't just go inside. I’m drenched in blood and sweat.. what if they kick us out?"

"It's McDonalds. I don't think anyone these days actually care. Especially not at 2:30 am." Xanthus responds and they only shake their head before getting out of the car.

Walking in and heading to the counter, they skim the menu to figure out what they're going to eat. Xanthus doesn't eat fast food. Or mostly any food for that matter, so he waits for love to tell him what they want while Dontis orders his food.

"Yes I’ll have a... Double quarter pounder with a large fry, a 20 piece mcnugget, 2 McCrispys and another large fry with a diet coke."

Xanthus and love glances at each other with wide eyes.

"Lord, Dontis!" Xanthus exclaimed. "Now that's really watching your figure."

"Gains can always come back but my McDonalds order can't, and I’m hungry!"

Xanthus scoffs, "Yeah yeah sure, what do you want love?"

They scan the menu one more time before answering.

"A 10 piece, medium fry and... a water."

"Will that be all?" The employee asks.

"Yes."

-----

"Fuckin weirdos man what the hell.." the employee thought before handing them their food and taking one more look at the blood stained clothes love was wearing.

"Guys.. We should probably eat in the car right..? Like to avoid staring." Love suggests.

"I don’t really care if people stare. But if you insist. It'll be better anyways, as I can continue patching you up." Xanthus replied before opening the door for them to walk out.

Dontis is already eating one of his orders of fries while they walk out, side eyeing Xanthus because he knows he's gonna hear more complaining about how bad the rubbing alcohol hurts from the backseat. At least the silence was nice for a while.

____________________________________________

I really love this idea! I think it was really cute, and I have an idea for an extended ending (please lmk if you wanna read it)

Tysm for reading!

-💋👠💄

[alicentsgf]

why are people so pressed about how Alicent ends up this season??? Like hotd hasn’t been good since s1 people also criticized everything back then but tbh Alicent from s1 was always headed to where she ends up?? I thought it was common knowledge that her last choice would always going to be duty vs love and s1 stated very well that Rhaenyra is that freedom for Alicent???? I absolutely hated the things they put Alicent through (alicole sex and for what? All of her sons being a dick to her??) her arc this season was badly executed but to blame and think that the writers are catering to rhaenicents? seems a bit stretch when the ship is hated by the majority of the show. We can argue in the journey of how Alicent get to the point she is now but it was clear for the beginning that the head of TG?? She would never be, sometimes I think that thanks to most of the general viewers didn’t understand Alicent as a character the writers thought if we put her in these humiliating scenes the viewers would understand that she is a victim of the patriarchy and the men who surround her, but I guess not even with that the GA and fandom as whole could ever understand her character and honestly im good with it, she’s a walking contradiction and i have read her character like that since the beginning, good riddance tho to the obnoxious people that kept bad talking Olivia for only doing her job (this is not a dig to you but the extended fandom that are attacking Olivia again for her character)

Why are we upset now? Because we dared to hope lmao. And now we're realising theres absolutely no coming back from this (it was already mostly ruined i know).

I think the issue is the choice between duty and love should have been made when she chose her children and grandchildren over viserys wish for rhaenyra to rule. Choosing love didnt have to and shouldnt have meant choosing rhaenyra. Like finally FINALLY she lets herself cast duty aside, because "what is duty against the feel of a newborn son in your arms", "you never love anything in the world the way you love your first child", "you imbecile (affectionate)", etc etc. That is what works in line with the original story AND the sympathetic sides of alicent we saw with in season 1. Sure motherhood shouldn't define women but this is a story abt a fucking lineage !! What do people expect. Of course its going to be about parents and children.

F&B might have been bare bones, but it at least had a strong political backbone to it thats been completely removed this season. That direction would have offered more oppertunities for alicent to be explored as a multifacted character. The problem is that because they angled this as a story primarily about misogyny rather than a story about the inevitability of the targaryen line imploding, they maybe thought they couldnt do that without making alicent look like an unsympathetic agent of patriarchy. (Most of the audience read her that way anyway so they did a pretty crappy job avoiding it). Rhaenyra represented a certain freedom for alicent in the story, sure, im not against that at all, but for the writers to suggest literally being with Rhaenyra is what alicent needs to do to achieve freedom from duty? To free herself from the shackles or patriarchy?? (🙄) Its so laughable. Alicents little grandson had to have his head sown back on for his funeral and Rhaenyras faction sent the assassin. Her daughter was traumatised. You dont just fucking come back from that. Really we should have known when viserys died how this was gonna go and I think in some ways we did because a big number of us were upset with the misunderstanding then, we just didnt want to believe what this signaled about where they were taking alicent. People are upset now because alicents character has become totally unrectifiable. We just never believed they'd diverge so much from the known plot points of fire and blood.

As for this bit you said:

" I think that thanks to most of the general viewers didn’t understand Alicent as a character the writers thought if we put her in these humiliating scenes the viewers would understand that she is a victim of the patriarchy and the men who surround her, but I guess not even with that the GA and fandom as whole could ever understand her character and honestly im good with it, she’s a walking contradiction and i have read her character like that since the beginning."

I have thought this myself and unfortunately I think you're right. In an effort to make alicent sympathetic they have created the most convoluted character i've ever laid my eyes on. Towards the end of season 1 we were already saying her being so forgiving after driftmark made no sense, but i was compelled enough by her because of olivias performance of that scene with the knife to be willing to wait to see where they took her this season. And its been an exercise in more of the same stupid shit. The issues in season 1 have just been amplified by the realisation that season 2 is just the same thing again and again and again for alicent. Shes just a punching bag and im sure thats in an attempt to get the audience to feel bad for her, because i cant see any other reason for it, but its just so badly written that shes no longer compelling or interesting or likeable really at all. Theres nothing to root for when you dont know who someone is. I have so little to say about her this season and that hurts honestly. Olivias performances deserved much better writing.

[bugeater77]

Nandermo things u probably forgot about

not in any order(i wrote them whenever i remembered them)

(scroll down for images, the ones pictured are highlighted) - Nandor holding guillermo up to make him feel like he is flying multiple times (quite possibly nandermo hug)

During the simon the devious episode where nandor once again takes him flying, they hold hands (last image)

Nandor telling guillermo to stay by his side until he falls asleep in the curse episode, then going to grab his hand but stopping (5th Image)

"you'll probably have to take it in the waist and out the shoulders" - guillermo knowing Nandor's exact measurements

Nandor getting so frustrated while talking about the other vampires wanting to kill Guillermo that he kicks and destroys a box

"take a picture of me having fun and then send it to guillermo so he knows how much I do not miss him" - nandor

Guillermo DROPPING EVERYTHING ON THE GROUND when he hears about nandor's engagement

"it's not gonna last." -Guillermo SHIT EATING GRIN after realizing that gale and nandor are not gonna be together

Guillermo PUTTING HIS ARM AROUND NANDOR AFTER THE GAIL EPISODE he thought he had a chance :( (4th image)

Sean calling Guillermo Nandor's boyfriend and lazlo not questioning it not one bit

pulling guillermo back way before he was supposed to after trying to use him as bait for the sire

this was also while he was shaking his money maker if i might add

like the second he did it...

entire scene where Nandor tries to convince guillermo to come back from celeste

ENTIRE HOMOEROTIC FIGHT SCENE

might i mention that nandor obviously thinks guillermo fighting him is hot??!

Guillermo gripping nandor plushie after he leaves (3rd image)

Guillermo has silver lined seatbelts in his car, meaning he was planning to rescue nandor for a while

"traveling the whole world with my nand- master" - guillermo

ermmmmmm glitter portrait ?!!

Nandor wishing to be human the SAME AMOUNT that guillermo wishes to be a vampire, seeing him as an equal

"my furry little friend" - nandor

Marwa, who likes EVERYTHING nandor likes, kissing guillermo all over his face

The wwdits cast interview about nandermo, which to me feels like a deep extreme very canonization

Nandor's pure jealousy after finding out about guillermo becoming a vampire

Him waiting for SO LONG outside of panera bread

Going to guillermos house to look at his baby pictures

talking about his goth phase with his mom...

"if i'm lying, kill me now" - nandor

Nandor being so upset and holding guillermos body after thinking he was dead

Nandor grasping guillermos sweater

speaking out against the baron to keep guillermo safe, which if you watch season 1 again you'll see that he is TERRIFIED of the baron

so excited to talk about guillermo killing vampires.... wtf is wrong with u nandor but we're not gonna get into that

"I will fix"

PUTS ON GUILLERMOS CAPE

he is so excited to kill derek, not to turn guillermo human, but literally just to kill derek out of jealousy

Nandor's face while guillermo is talking about his love life(second image)

Guillermos face after Nandor turns Gail into a vampire (first image)

guillermo hammering the door as hard as possible to wake nandor for his super slumber.

duh nandor knowing every part of Guillermos thank you card

The entire last episode actually?

theres absolutely more but this is all i remember just from my brain

(new additions) In another cast interview, Kayvan Novak says “I think he’s coming to the realization that his type is Harvey Guillén flavored.” about nandors type

Nandor makes guillermo spin around in his wedding cape

Nandor says he got the idea of having a wedding ever since him and guillermo "watched the wedding planner on that rainy sunday together"

ok listen closely, the wedding planner is about a woman planning a wedding falling in love with the groom causing him to leave the bride

he did NOT CARE WHO HE WAS MARRYING. BUT HE KNEW HE WANTED GUILLERMO TO PLAN IT FROM DAY 1

[tulipscomeinallsortsofcolors]

ok wait there is so much you mentioned there that im so interested in i hope you dont mind me doing a little ramble

1. fire poker drama with roman and dot. SO interesting actually, weve seen baby logan and dot talk about the scar but no one elses reactions to it i dont think so thats super cool, im also very interested in roman specifically reacting as opposed to virgil or patton who id imagine would be equally upset about logan being hurt (my first thought was roman having more baggage around someone you think loves you intentionally hurting you but also ill let you keep it secret too pslsjs) and also like. considering the roman/dot dynamic. very interesting good concept

2. logan and the terrible horrible no good very bad week - ALSO very cool this was one of my favourite lines in the original laoft story, i love logan immortality angst so much, especially when the people he loves are still alive (another thing i can imagine slightly fucking with you a little, watching your friend/brother/boyfriend/etc mourning you when you still have your full life ahead but knowing regardless that hes not really being unreasonable)

3. dot + larry realising logan cant lie. i just find all the raising a fae stuff really interesting, kind of like growing up disabled where like. as a parent you have to accept that you fundamentally have to treat your children differently because they have different needs whilst still maintaining the balance of raising them fairly. also the realisation of like "oh yeah one of our kids is a literal whole different species there is absolutely zero guidance on what were meant to do here"

4. virgil asking shelley to marry patton - first of all just very very cute second i think itd be so funny of shelley to know for ages that LMP are about to get proposed to and having to stay quiet about it (im also now wondering about whether you think like logan and roman would tell their own families theyre thinking of proposing thats interesting too)

5. patton and logan discussing roman the day after meeting him. also just a very cute and interesting idea and also i love any LMP as kids content pslsks

ok sorry theres me being autistic about laoft in your inbox ill leave you be now

you are so chill and valid i love this

i was thinking the poker drama would come about earlier in their friendship, before Romans really had time to warm back up to her, so he's especially irate

[mylarena]

absolutely fucking ruined by the concept of soap thinking that ghost shouldve left him behind in las almas. him not understanding why ghost waited for him. him being confused the entire time, but not questioning it because it wasnt the time for it. he was more of a liability than a help, considering his bullet wound.

why did ghost lead him through the city when he couldve just gotten out by himself with a lot less risk of getting caught? he supposes the "we're a team" could be an answer, that ghost felt obligated to keep him alive, but with the amount of danger ghost had been in? he logically shouldve cut his losses and gotten the hell out of dodge. a sergeant isnt worth as much as a lieutenant - soap isnt worth as much as ghost.

it doesnt make sense to him. but he never asks- never feels like its the right time, despite them spending so much of it together.

and isnt that fucking baffling as well? ghost hangs out with him. he seems like hes with him more often than not. hes always ghosting - haha - him, always watching him from the corner when the team goes out for drinks, always on comms during missions, always checking his injuries after he gets out of medical.

soap teases him for getting soft with him sometimes, ("so you do like me?" "i like you alive."), but he never makes fun of him. if it were ghost who was injured so often, he thinks he would be the same way. but ghost isnt- hes too well trained and careful to be in and out of medical as much as soap is. reasonably so, considering his rank. hes important to the team, one of the essential cogs to keep the group functioning.

its during a mission that soap finally breaks and asks.

it had been something fairly simple- clear intel, a solid plan, just something in-and-out. but the intel wasnt clear enough and the whole situation went to shit. they were ambushed, and soap was caught on the other side of the battlefield, shot and immobilized. the place was crawling with hostiles, soap was barely staying hidden in some tiny office room that they hadnt checked.

when ghost asked for his status, urgent, he gave him a straight answer: he was incapacitated and wouldnt be able to make it to evac with the rest of the squad, and he was surrounded by enemies that would likely find him soon. he asked for ghosts own situation with evac, knowing that the longer they waited for him the more danger they put the entire squad in. ghost told him that the squad was leaving as they spoke, and so soap expected the line to go silent soon. but it didnt- ghost kept talking to him, keeping him awake. there was no noise of a vehicle in the background either, which confused him, but his mind wasnt really at its peak at the moment, so he didnt really pay attention. what he paid attention to was ghosts shitty dad jokes and the banter he prompted.

he lost track of time and sat in a sort of daze, having lost a lot of blood and still losing it. then ghost asked what building he was in. he mindlessly answered to the best of his ability and waded through his thoughts for a few moments before realizing the implications of the question. so he asked, voice slurred.

"wait, why d'y'need t' ken?"

"because im almost there, johnny."

and soap is even more confused.

"ye didn' go with th' rest o' th' team?"

" 'course not, johnny."

"b't... i'm..."

"what room are you in?"

"i- uh... one o' th' off'ces.... whdya mean, o'course not?"

"i wasn't going to leave you behind, johnny."

theres a short pause. soap can feel his eyes getting heavier.

"did you think i left?"

"...wel'... aye. ...sir."

"why would i-"

"mmmmsir... gettin' real sleepy."

"shit. stay awake, sergeant. keep your eyes open for me, im almost there."

"y's're?"

"absolutely certain, johnny. stay awake for me, yeah? ill be there in a few seconds."

"thou' y'left."

when the door to the office opens, he sluggishly moves for his gun, before be sees the comforting sight of ghosts mask. he drops his arm back down to his side

"lt."

ghost sounds breathless in his reply,

"johnny."

the man is by his side in an instant, quickly running his eyes over him before putting pressure on his bullet wound.

while he does makeshift medical treatment, he does his best to keep soap awake. keeps him talking. occasionally patting his cheek when his head starts to list sideways.

by the time hes done, soap is barely hanging on by a thread. he cant carry his own weight when ghost hefts him up, letting out an indiscernible mumble when he lifts him up and starts on his way out. he doesnt stay awake much longer than that- ghost is warm and hes cold, and the swaying of his gait is soothing. ghost asks him to stay awake- orders him to, borderline pleads him to- but its a losing battle. he passes out, trusting ghost to keep him safe.

later, when he wakes up in the medbay, he'll end up being asked why he didnt think ghost was coming back for him. but for now hes out like a damn light.

[aslongasimhereyoureinvincible]

haikyuu!! the dumpster battle ramblings

saw it earlier today and am going to see it again tomorow with a friend, am very Full Of Thoughts, if u dont wont spoilers for the movie well take this as your warning ig

okay first of all the sound direction, the sound direction was INSANELY good

this is absolutely a movie that needs to be experienced in cinema, the soundscape of tokyo gymnasium and the karasuno v nekoma match felt so vividly real it was like i was at an actual game

the soundtrack was great too, i mean it always is w/ hayashi yuuki

there were i think two tracks that used the leitmotif from 'above', good shit

the animation was also really great, overall it didnt look massively better than season 4 of the anime

which is fine, season 4 looked great imo (minus that outsourced episode)

but holy shit when the sakuga hit it hit HARD

tsukki and lev blocking, kageyama doing his thing, kenma and kuroo's quick, there were lots of really great sakuga moments

they also reused some shots from earlier on in the anime and idk maybe thats 'lazy' or whatever but i liked it, it was very nostalgic :')

they did re-animate and i think re-voice hinata and kenma's first meeting tho, framing it from kenma's POV, loved that

i think my favourite sakuga shot had to be hinata and kenma with the knives at each other's throats tho, that ate

not sure how i didnt know about this before hand but it made perfect sense to me when i saw studio trigger in the end credits, some of the sakuga, esp the blocking, had a bit of that trigger flair to it

so obviously they werent gonna fit in everything from the manga, and the movie definitely had kenma as its focus, but i think overall they did a decent job in picking and chosing what to cut

the one thing im annoyed about is the removal of old coach ukai and coach nekomata's backstory, i really i think it makes the handshake at the end of the game hit that much harder

other than that tho i dont think the movie suffered from not adapting everything in the manga, i mean obviously i wouldve LIKED it, but i dont think the movie NEEDED it to be a good movie

it very much felt like kenma was the main character of the movie, and the main focus, with kuroo and hinata as his deuteragonists

which i liked!!! i think framing the match from kenma's POV for the most part makes sense, and its fun to spend more time in outsider POVs of karasuno

rlly loved the adaptation of kuroo and kenma's childhood flashback, im pretty sure kaji yuuki voiced kid kenma too

watching their friendship grow and seeing them play togther now as high schoolers, AUGH RIGHT IN THE FEELS

theres also a montage of kid kuroo barging into kenma's room to demand they go play volleyball together that ends on kuroo doing so whilst kenma's changing/putting on trousers which was rlly funny and silly

the stuff with kuroo and tsukki was so good too

'thanks to everyone, occasionally it's fun', 'thank god i wasnt wrong', 'he's a man who walks ahead of me'

AUUUGHHHHHH IT WAS SO GOOD :')

the scene that completely stole my breath away though was kageyama setting the open toss to hinata

i know ive already lost my mind over the whole 'threat of trust' thing and truly, the inarizaki match goes insane with that concept i will always adore it

but holy shit that scene smacked me over the head, HARD, with the concept of 'setting as a love language'

i just... i literally dont even have words for it it was SO amazingly good, i legitimately teared up in the cinema

speaking of other great scenes;

'stay interesting, 'kay?'

OHHHHH GODDDDDDDDDD

they did it perfectly

the music and the soundscape completely cutting out, the background whiting out so its just kenma and the net, kaji yuuki's delivery of the line

it genuinely felt like something out of a horror movie, it was creepy, and unsettling, and PERFECT

also;

hinata's reaction after kenma collapses and says 'that was fun'

murase ayumu's delivery was so VISCERAL, dude got in that booth and CHEERED

you really felt hinata's sheer utter come through in that little scene, same with kuroo's incredulous laugh

the end of the match was slightly a mixed bag for me

on the good hand;

having done from kenma's first person POV was cool, i dont think haikyuu's ever really done that before, and it looked awesome

cutting back on the music and background soundscaping so we just focus on kenma's breathing and the sound of the ball/players jumping/shoes squeaking etc was a great way to really immerse the viewer in the scene, and put us inside kenma's head

on the bad hand;

it was anticlimatic, and i KNOW the whole point of the end of the match is that its anticlimatic,

but i had always imagined the scene with dramatic swelling music and the characters running frantically, only for it to all cut away when the ball slips and all you can hear is kenma's 'ah-' and there'd be a close-up of his facial expression

the stage play did a very similar thing and it worked EXTREMELY well imo

instead by doing it in the first person POV and already not having music it just,,, didnt feel quite as impactful as it shouldve imo??

like the match points for the seijoh, shiratorizawa, or inarizaki matches were done really dramatically

and i know the whole point is that the nekoma match is kinda an outlier in that it ends in that anticlimatic way with the ball slipping, and theres that big beat with hinata calling out 'nice serve' to tanaka before the realisation sets in that theyve won, but jusstttt

idk like it certainly wasnt BAD, i still DEEPLY DEEPLY enjoyed it, but just personally if i'd been the director i wouldve done it differently

also!! because it was from his first person POV we didnt get to see kenma's face on the 'idiot! the ball hasn't dropped yet!!!' line, which was pretty disapointing ngl i rlly love that scene how it is in the manga

ok enough complaining tho back to the infinite list of stuff i loved about the movie

the camera work! good god the camera work was so fucking cool

it really made the space of the gymnasium feel 3d and real, the way the camera would move over and through the net with the ball helped emphasise the physicality of the players and the court

i know jack shit about cinematography but yeah, after the sound design the camera work was prolly the best thing

the post credits scene was great!! daishou trying and failing to neg kuroo cracks me up every damn time

and the set up for the kamomedai match was so hype

speaking of; the very vague forshadowing for hinata's fever of him having flushed cheeks and not being all exhausted after the game like the others, auughhh my heartttt

if he isnt already, this movie will make kenma one of your top 5 haikyuu characters

seriously i love how they switched the perspective and framing so it was a bit more like kenma was the 'main character' of this match and hinata was the 'rival'

overall the movie was cool, creative, and a really clearly loving adaptation, im more than happy to be paying to see it again tmr lol

i'll probably have even more to say after seeing it a 2nd time so tune in for that ig

[chongmiz]

I heard I can fo it with a broken heart on the radio

And aside from the chorus being kinda awkward (I'm so depressed I act like it my birTHHHdaayyyyyYY)

I think this whole 'i sold you a lie you think I'm doing well but I'm not but I'm killing it so I'm a #girlboss try come for my job' is so embarassing

Because everything shes done over this last year I've thought 'theres a woman doing real bad'

Like I'm not trying to dispute the effort and energy that goes into touring like she does, but a lot of her decisions both professional and personally have made me think uh oh

Its giving 'could a depressed person do this?' But it's about dating the worst men on the planet and looking like shes going to cry on stage half the time

💌 come talk to me, a veteran swiftie in the anti- tag in the same way that martin luther still thought himself catholic

where i land with it lyrically is in conversation with four songs: "mirrorball" from folklore, "nothing new" from red TV, and two other ttpd tracks, "who's afraid of little old me" and "clara bow"

per the long pond sessions, she wrote "mirrorball" partially about COVID's effect on touring ("and they called off the circus, burned the disco down / when they sent home the horses and the rodeo clowns"). pair that with the much discussed WAOLOM asylum line and... it might be because she says "circus," it might be that while i have no personal experience of involuntary hospitalization i Do have basic empathy, but i think of the two great blond celebrity memoirs of the last few years: britney spears' the woman in me and jeannette mccurdy's i'm glad my mom died. which is all to say, she doesn't Have to do it with a broken heart! actually! "the asylum where they raised me" sounds like her pursuit of fame was coerced by say, a stage mom or an abusive contract or monetary need (it wasn't), if she was in an urgent health crisis like ICDIWABH suggests ("even when you wanna die"), she has all the power to postpone or cancel dates. she's not in a conservatorship, she's not being Made to tour; i can imagine feeling obligated to pay the hundreds of people it employs, but she is an actual billionaire, i think she can afford blue cross blue shield PPO plans for a militia. you can interpret "all the pieces of me shattered while the crowd was chanting 'more!'" as resenting the audience, but there's other performers in smaller venues with less freedom and power who need to be onstage to afford food. idk.

then there's the "try and come for my job:" extremely vague as to who is coming for it, and the popular reading is of other pop stars on tour. "clara bow" is my favorite track on ttpd by a long shot in part because it feels like a more mature version of "nothing new;" it's a little kinder to the ingenue and seems to respect her predecessors, recognize that She was the ingenue once, but it does not match up to her actual conduct in public. this is where i become very asian, but besides her being uhhh... pretty drunk at the grammys this year, i think her behavior is more a symptom of white american culture as egoistic and ahistorical—this is the kamala harris "you think you fell out of a coconut tree" meme, yes, but more broadly my complaint is filial piety. acting up in front of the likes of celine dion and tracy chapman and joni mitchell, especially on a night that celebrates all three of them, is absolutely unacceptable to me. they're your elders, they paved the path you're on (nothing new: "she'll know the way, and then she'll say she got the map from me"), but her teenage fans who've never heard any other music don't know or accept that she Isn't actually the progenitor of acclaimed women singer-songwriters

she wants to be seen as a "cool big sister" mentor to younger pop girls or boosting indie acts like boygenius, but afaik she herself hasn't shared the stage with an older female musician since alanis morrissette as a surprise guest on the 1989 tour. sure, she showed up to induct carole king to the rock 'n roll hall of fame, with a solo stage. but as much as people first cringed at luke combs' "fast car" cover, he acquitted himself with his grammy performance. there is true reverence there. if taylor brings stevie nicks (who wrote a poem?? for the ttpd physical editions) onstage at some point soon, i'll Maybe start to believe she doesn't see women over 40 as piles of dust she's either embarrassed to stand near Or, you know, who expose that she did not in fact fall out of a coconut tree, and have more stage presence sitting down than she does in sequins

[cleromancy]

while from the doylist perspective the stories are specifically propping tim up compared to jason by doing this... i am obviously still very interested in, and compelled by, jason canonically having a pretty high opinion of tim going all the way back to their first meeting.

(for the record, absolutely nothing in-universe justifies jason having this opinion of tim up until tim springs him from prison imo. he beat the snot out of tim in tt29 and it wasn't even hard and yet for some fucking reason he still walks away thinking tim is a Better Robin than he was? like... ok. sure. more thoughts on this later in the post tho)

so the new earth (post-crisis pre-reboot) continuity tim-jason interactions we have, in order, are batman 617-618 (from batman: hush, this ones a retcon and barely counts, its just jason holding tim hostage with a batarang to his throat; and you might also get a glimpse of jay doing this in batman annual 25 lol but its in the other room so im not checking), tt29 (published in the middle of uth coming out, lol), tt47 (countdown tie-in), robin 177 and 182-183 (post-countdown, immediately after jason dumps his red robin costume and one of tims rogues fishes it out of the dumpster to wear, correctly intuiting *for some reason* that this will get to tim), and......... sigh. stupid battle for the stupid cowl.

(and, since were talking about jasons perspective, theres also the picture wall in lost days. i dont know what issue it is because to me lost days is not "made up" of "issues", it is one book i simply open to devour whole whilst weeping.)

i think tt 29 is the interaction i find the most frustrating because... we have an idea what tt29 would have been like if it were good. bc we have ga01 69-72. and granted Tim is such a cocky little shit (affectionate) that jason simply. Would probably not have been able to scare him no matter what, lol... but imagine if this fucking issue had been good.

ok cutting 4 length

the problem with johns. .......the FIRST problem with johns. is that he regularly has interesting ideas and his execution of them completely falls flat. the second problem with johns is that he can't write dialogue. the third problem with johns is that it was really really important to him that you understood what a Talented And Special Boy tim is but instead of showing you that he just forced other characters to. tell you. over and over. jason is not johns' only victim in this quest. (and johns was also not the only perpetrator, as we will see when i get to fuckin fabnic.)

but like i said i *am* actually interested in the potential here, because i do think there is potential.

and i also think that--at least when you read into it as deeply as i do--jason is sympathetic in this issue. (don't give me "hes beating up a child" crap here btw. jason's only 2-3 years older, tims a peer to him, they could easily have gone to high school together if jason hadnt fuckin died.) johns deliberately shows us Jason hoping raven gets a reprieve from the nightmares, and he certainly was *trying* to show us how much it would fucking suck to be remembered as the Bad Robin, forgotten except to be a cautionary tale, what kind of things that would do to a person emotionally. AND he makes a point of highlighting Jason's loneliness and isolation as robin, and. tbh i dont think the issue itself rly blames Jason for that. (you most certainly do not gotta hand it to him though. under no circumstances do you gotta hand it to johns for anything.)

and while jason tearing off his clothes to reveal his party city knockoff robin costume--the better to beat you with, my dear--was, erm. falling mostly on the wrong side of the line btwn camp and cringe... i do think jason writing his own name in blood on the wall was right on the money, *especially* because it was obviously not tims blood. like, tim wasnt bleeding anywhere near enough for that. it was either fake blood or jason prepped his own beforehand for them to DNA test--but also if they saw it before they saw tim, to make them fear for tims life, as a reminder of the risks theyre dealing with here.

oh but i was planning on talking specifically about like. what Jason might actually have seen in tim that left him with a positive impression. as-written? kinda nothing. lmao. or well the one thing imo is this

just kidding i couldn't find the panelz somehow despite posting them literally like yesterday and i ran into this lol:

>:| got distracted again. by this.

anyway i give up ill add the pics later. but its the exchange where jason has *decisively* won the fight, tims crumpled on the floor concussed and winded, and jason demands if tim *really* thinks he was good enough to tail bruce unnoticed for weeks.

and tim says "yes." hes beat up enough he can barely talk but there's still no hesitation whatsoever. and jason is *really* down on himself in this issue--he calls himself a failure, he feels like no one cared about his death, he feels unremembered. and jasons stated intentions here were to get the measure of tim but i also stand by the interpretation that he wanted to warn tim off of the sidekick gig, to remind him you uh. you have to be dick fucking grayson to survive it. (i dont believe either of them mentions him by name, but hey, dicks shadow is big enough for the both of them.)

i think what jason finds worthy of respect here--and, on top of that, intriguing enough that in robin 177 he entreats tim to join him--is the confidence, and also? at absolutely no point does tim believe jason is there to kill him. not a fuckin high bar, i know, but like i said i do think jason had *planned* to try and scare tim off (just also mega derailed himself by accident bc he got too in his feelings about the statue room 🥺), and... its not a bar he would have expected Tim to clear, is all im saying. particularly because while it is *possible* this took place in the middle of uth (tt 29 was released in november 05, between batman 646 and 647, which is the part where slade shows up bc black mask hired him to take jason out, so tt29 couldnt have happened in the middle of those two specific issues, but there are several other points at which jason could have taken a break in menacing gotham to fly to san Francisco), with Jason talking so negatively about himself i have to assume this is after the end of uth.

(you might be able to place this in the in-universe chronology by if/when teen titans mentions chemo dropping on bludhaven, which happens immediately before the bruce-jason-joker final showdown. however i dont feel like poking around for that or any other details to anchor tt29 to the other events happening at the time rn.)

i just also think so much of what jasons doing in this issue is like--he doesn't know *what* hes there to do. he had a plan and hes kinda fumbling it, not because tim is being especially resourceful but because jasons still licking his emotional wounds from uth, and titans tower is bringing up ones i dont think he ever realized hadnt healed. hes feeling everything at once. hes angry and hurt and full of self loathing but i think by the time tim simply says "yes," jason hits the stage of just being... burnt out. done lashing out, fucking tired, just wants to go home, if he can ever find it.

but i do think that "yes" would stick in his craw for a long time afterwards.

tt47: tim kicks jason in the nuts and pretty much declares them even for tt29 lolol. you may have seen my post about how jason only *sometimes* wears armor in countdown--hes drawn in the armored turtleneck and tac pants in tt47, but there are times in countdown hes out there fighting aliens and metas and shit in his jacket, a *t-shirt,* and *jeans.* just a squishy regular degular baseline human doing this and no one ever brings it up. but anyway. do i think tim would have seen jason wearing the equivalent of civvies plus a domino mask, narrow in on that, and immediately decide to kick him in the balls? i sure do. do i also think that this would make him rise in jasons estimation?

yeah. yeah, i really do. lol

anyway after this! after this is jasons briefish world-hopping stint as red robin saving the universe being a big damn hero and getting paid dust by everyone around him, in countdown; i think i mentioned before in this post that at the end he abandons the red robin suit in a dumpster, where it gets picked up by one of tims rogues. this storyline sucks and fabnic is a hack unfortunately. the rogue did it bc he wants tims attention or whatever. not important except for how irritating it is that fabnic fumbled a concept this juicy (tim inheriting and eventually purposely adopting The Bad Robin Mantle) which is also further fumbled by stupid battle for the stupid cowl, and the people who it falls to to salvage it are. johns again, in adventure comics 3, and yost, who is a better writer than johns or fabnic but not by like a huge margin.

and while i do think tim having a bad opinion of jason at this point was inevitable i find it so frustrating the way it was executed... like so often with Bad Tim Writing and also fuckin DC Editorial's Jason Slander Agenda shit it wasn't because in-universe thats how the characters would feel, the writer was using tim as a mouthpiece, and jasons competence and things he cares about arent taken seriously... BUT WHATEVER the point is that when Tim goes to stop Jason from his villainous scheme to reduce crime or whatevr jason has such a high opinion of him that he asks tim to join him:

and jasons loneliness, his desperation to be heard, is such a theme for him in the new earth/post crisis era and i wish it had been. Handled better lol are you noticig a theme here its that Jason has been written badly. (tim too, tbh.) and when tim says no jasons dejected but unsurprised acceptance breaks my heart. but to me the most interesting part of jasons appearance at the end of tims robin series is in 182, when tim--for absolutely no good reason--gives jason the means to break out of prison.

he says something about how its what Bruce would have wanted, but for. reasons i wont get too deeply into rn, that absolutely does not hold water.

anyway i just think there's no way jason doesn't start crushing on tim at least a little at this point. shrug.

bftc sucks and i dont want to look at it rn. but its also got examples of jasons high opinion of tim. and also im mad at it bc both countdown AND his appearances in robin feel like they could have been taking jason to a like. more of an antihero type of role and then we get bftc and morrison and its kind of. fucking hard to get jason anywhere near back on track after that for those of us who still like playibg in the post-crisis pre-reboot sandbox. and i wouldnt be mad about that if bftc had been good bc Jason absolutely does make an incredibly interesting and effective and tragic antagonist when handled well but well. he wasnt. and i have no idea what bftc would.have even been like if it was good bc it was so off the wall and dumb and assassinated actually *everyones* characters. so.

anyway

im just going to roll back to robin 183 now

jasons referring to the damage tim got when he got a little bit exploded in 180, this pretty nasty burn on the back of his head, which was actually why he wore jasons RR cowl for the first time (he was still robin). but what you do see here--aside from Tims narration which puts him *firmly* on the side of obnoxiously arrogant and judgmental instead of charmingly cocky in this issue, to my estimation, thanks for nothing fabnic--is the two of them on firmly cordial terms. jason still thinks more highly than tim does of him, but theyre asking each other about their injuries... tim caring about the wellbeing of people he doesn't even like is par for the course with him, ofc, but once again Jason doesn't really get that a whole lot. constantly haunted by this panel from countdown btw:

does he though!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

here is another jaytim preboot canon interactions post from a few months ago with some more thoughts, some repeated lol.

anyway. incoherent rambling complete for now. however. jaytim time is all the time 👍 i will revisit this.

[darkdemeter]

Dem Hi! I'm back with a bit of an unhinged ask here:

Im sure this doodle gives you an idea where this is going. I was just making myself some tea, and I was thinking about Lovers In Eden (i was going to listen to a song called Eastward of Eden by Amelia Day,hence the association). And Since I am a film student, a writer and i took script classes as my subject las trimester, i offer you this unhinged recap of my conspiracy theory. So LIE (Lover in Eden) introduces us to the idea that Strife killed Y/N after a bloodlust outburst,right? Well, at first i didnt think too much of it, but then the chapter ends with the four on earth, which felt a little disembodied from the prologue. Which brings me to the hipothesis which is: Strife's lover is on earth,reborn without their memories. My proof for this theory is this: 1) We know that in the darksiders universe there is such thing as a well of souls, we know they go through the kingdom of the dead to repent and then be reborn through the well. 2) you wouldntve put the line "Love slayer" if it wasnt relevant to the plot. (Writing often times includes phrasing things a certain way to hint at other things). 3) Why would you close the chapter where you did? What relevance does the fact that the four are now on earth have? Simple, Strife will find a reborn,survivor Y/N and will fall in love with them (and have a crisis once he realizes its a whole like soulmates finding eachother again situation) 4) and last (which came to me as i wrote this) if you were to center the story only on Strife and the reader without the reader being reborn, you wouldve just started it from the medieval age/wherever strife met the reader and not end with the four on earth. Of course dont gotta tell me if im right,dont want to spoil the whole fic anyways. But I felt the need to share this with you. (I genuienly felt like the pepe silvia meme). And yeah, one offshoot of all this is that maybe the reader isnt a reborn soulmate, and that the prologue could just set up this inherit guilt and fear towards love that Strife has. Until we get the next chapter, i lay in wait...scheming/lhj/hj Have a nice rest of your day and i hope you've enjoyed my unhinged ramble. -Jer. PD: i feel so silly for sending this whole thing but as a fellow writer i know theres nothing we love more than ppl theorizing about our stuff. So here you go. I hope it doest read as overbearing,i just genuienly love your stuff.

First off, I love your pepe doodle! It’s so perfect. In fact I find it so funny that I made this a little bit ago myself... (As much as I'd love to rant and such about my AUs' lore and headcanons, I made this for shits and gigs)

I absolutely adore hearing theories readers have about my fics. (Sorry this has taken FOR-EV-ER to respond to, I'm terrible with replying at times)

I also fucking LOVE that you're a film student, I think that makes this whole theory situation even better because I do tend to have a very movie-esque thought process when writing. (Blooper reel and BTS footage rent free in my head)

And I think I've got the mind stewing a bit with that recent post, Flowers From My Lover. Without hopefully giving away anything, you do have some valid and interesting points in your theories and has me going, "Oh Jer is good little detective." You get a cookie for your theory skills!

There are indeed certain key details and clues I put in on purpose and it's so interesting to see what readers pick up on. And yes, the well of souls is involved to some extent in this plotline, but not in the way you might think...

I also find your choice of the word "reborn" interesting. Very obviously and right out the gates, I will say that yes, reader is alive in this story. But it's the manner in which reader's alive and again, the reborn theory is interesting and again, possibly not in a way you're expecting. Though it seems rather simple, I will tease that there is... quite a bit more to it than what's at face value.

And I wanna tease this little clue too because it is one of my favourites: It's interesting how the fic's title has a double meaning in plain sight...

[terranceholdsapencil]

I just watched space babies and Im gonna put some moments under the cut that are just so,,,

DOCTOR WHO SERIES 14 EPISODE 2 SPOILERS‼️ "Space babies"

-lets make this episode into one big exposition/lore dump so everyone knows whats going on

-RANI MENTIONED

-dinos <3

-ruby stepping on an actual butterfly and 15 blowing life into it again 😭 that was so stupid I absolute love it

-"One day this is wyoming"

-"Aha! Is that like a, uh, matter transporter like in star trek?" "hehehE! weve gotta visit them someday."

Im not even much of a star trek fan but I could totally watch doctor who with my star trek-autistic dad if there was a crossover. Also a crossover would be bangers.

-"Most of the universe is knackered, babes" fair.

-something about "the question is, why did I run?" "cause it was scAry!" "It was new. I LOVE meeting new things, so why did it give ME the shivers? I couldn´t run fast enough I was like 👏 WOOSH!"

I was like *clap* WOOSH!! (New stim unlocked)

-"So, this place, grows babies. What for? FoOd?" "fOo- who-whOT. FOOD? Theyre not tOmAtOes"

The way he said tomatoes is very special to me. As well as the general absurdity of that whole moment, actually

-giving her phone the space-time-signal boost!!! THAT MADE ME SO HAPPY TO SEE ON SCREEN AGAIN

-space babies. First I was a bit annoyed and baffled by the way he kept saying space babies but eventually he said it so often I just went "SPACE BABIES :D"

-ruby and 15 handling the space babies??? 😭 Man that was so pure

-maybe thats growing up queer and autistic but this line killed me

"Nobody grows up wrong.

You are, what you are, and that is magnificent"

Okay Im just gonna sit down and CRY because I really needed my comfort character to tell me this. Im not ready for it yet but I still need it. Ill get back to this once Im at peace with myself. To heal.

-"because I, am absolutely lovely, arent I? 🥰"

-"And do you wanna know my secret?

Theres no one like me in the whole, wide, universe. No one like me exists, and thats true of everyone. Its not a problem, captain pops. Its a superpower 💪 High five!"

-i absolutely laughed out loud and almost woke my father when ruby tried to calm the space babies and 15 kept scaring them.

"Theres no such things as the bogeman. That thing, was more-- sort of like, a, uhhh," "BOGEYMAN!"

-"That should recalibrate the whole shebang"

-abortion allegory got like super spelled out at one point and that was a bit awkward but I have no strong opinion on it, because the point they make still stands.

"Hang on. So, the planet down below will refuse to stop the babies being born, but once theyre born, they dont look after them??"

-the way jocelyn said 'because its terrifying" after 15 said "and WhY was I so scared?"

Also: "Yeah but Ive met a million ugly bugs, *I´m* and ugly bug, ThAt THIng, made me run, I just wonder why" youre not an ugly bug gorgeous

-"babies with a flame thrower?!" Was possibly the stupidest thing Ive ever seen and Im so happy cause that is exactly how doctor who works. Babies with flame throwers. Who even thought of that.

Also reminded me of the fact daleks had flame throwers at one point

-"The teaching software, it told a story!" "it invented the bogeyman!" "For the babies 🥺" "For the space babies 🥺" (i love them)

-snot monster

-it did confuse me how familiar they seem already. And that he basically gave her a tardis key before she even really agreed to travel with him. I LOVE them dont get me wrong but that felt too quick

-seeing mum at christmas <3

-"tell your mum not to slap me" someone has never recovered from jackie and sylvia

-ohhh dna scan

-probably something I forgot but:

Episode was fun. Too exposition heavy at times and structured differently from 'normal' who. But fun. And also super silly. And we LOVE super silly.

Space Babies. Space babies with flame throwers.

[coldresolve]

You probably get a million of these but your story is absolutely perfect in every way and holy shit. I did NOT expect that to happen - although i did expect that there will be an attempt, but not carried out successfully, iykwim.

Damn renee. I hope he will be fine 🥺 poor little guy. He needs a good old hug.

And imani comforting conrad was the most delicious scrumptious moment in this chapter for some reason, she is just so pure and wants to help </3 awww i love it.

And like, jesus, i could talk about this for hours and days and weeks but damn it, i cant wait for the next chapter, it will be so interesting to see how emergency services react?

And damn shaun is so professional holy shit idk why i love him too!!!!!! He is so good and so “detached” but he still cares and doesnt want anyone to die. He has his rules and morals but its not like the “youre a bad guy you tortured someone i will let you die” but “youre still a human being worth saving” eventho he most likely knows what renee did… well he definitely knows, he seems like the type who puts the pieces together fairly quick but doesnt like to mention it. Just aware of the picture without interfering. Or idk if i got that wrong, thats just how i saw him, and i love his personality.

Well i love all your characters’ personalities and yeah, please please never stop writing, im absolutely blown away and you (and M.M.) inspired me to get back into writing! So thank you for that. Youre an amazing human being and your story helped me more than you can ever imagine. Sorry for the rant i cant contain my thoughts anymore.

asdfkjh thank u nonny. its wild to me that theres been so many ppl saying ive gotten them back into writing, i think thats genuinely the best compliment i could get. go for it man, theres so much meaning in it

also small ramble time

shaun is kind of an interesting character yea. hes a black market doctor and i didnt want to go the route of 'he's just in it for money'. so i had to give him ethics thatd allow for treating people regardless of the abhorrent things theyve done, and staying neutral to the suffering (and possibly death) that those same people might cause down the line. so yknow, if he wants to save lives that'd otherwise be lost because these people won't go to regular hospitals, he has to stay neutral, because otherwise they wouldnt come to him for the treatment they need. he has weighed the here-and-now suffering of the people he treats and concluded that as a rule it has to be prioritized over possible-future-suffering. and it all results both in shaun being complicit in conrads torture, and doing what he did in the last chapter

idk how explicit im gonna get with it in the coming chapters and its not a huge spoiler, but like. this whole event has definitely made him reconsider his approach, cause suddenly its not so black and white as neutral-professionalism-saves-lives. suddenly his lack of intervention allowed the circumstances that resulted in three deaths. and how often has something like that happened throughout his career where he just never found out about it, yknow?