#void fodder

[camsoblivionjournal]

You’re dating again. 

I’m not jealous. I do not want you. You infuriate me. I almost hate you. You were never going to be an open wound, bleeding and bleeding, I didn’t like you enough for that. But you were never going to be a lumpy ugly scar, you were my first and therefore my everything. I don’t know what we were, to be honest. People who wanted to be wanted? And to be honest, being with you was the least honest I had ever been with myself. 

I think I wanted you to want me. And I think, above all else, I wanted to be wanted. 

No one tells you how to feel. I mean, they do, yeah, in the form of ‘move-ons’ or ‘you’re better offs’ and well-reasoned arguments. Arguments that still don’t tell me how to feel, because they’ve been formed under an incorrect assumption about us. Because truth be told, I do not think I ever really wanted you. 

You wanted me. I needed me to want you. And I needed to be who you believed I was. 

And I think I want you to be happy. After we broke up, I was excited for you to be happy in a relationship again. I wanted you to find what you wanted. Or at least, to find something real. I realize now, writing this, how terminally I crave approval. My fatal flaw. Enough to contort myself for months into foreign shapes and colors. Clearly we did not fit like we constantly believed we did.

So, herein lies the stink of my wound: I’m not supposed to feel any type of way about you dating again. Because, as I’ve so gracefully declared, I did not want you then and I do not want you now. We did not work. 

But I think I almost hate this because you finding someone else reminds me of my utter inadequacy. I hope she actually wants you, like I pretended I did. I hope she actually… 

I hope she says yes, doesn’t shudder in anxiety, and ignores hints. 

That’s not the main reason why I feel like my heart is rotting in my chest. I feel like a stepping stone, a means to an end. I feel like the side character, an obstacle to overcome, in your great love story, while always having been the main character to myself. Worse, still, is imagining y’all doing the exact same things we did. The same conversations, with the same little phrases you like, similar inside jokes, same playlist, same love notes. But who knows? Maybe your new love has a different flavor now. I hope it does. 

God, I hope y’all do not talk about me. But I know you will. Mention me, that is. Mention what I didn’t do, what I didn’t say. Mention the car ride home from the concert, in which I had a panic attack and almost vomited (your greatest fear is vomit). Mention the birthday sleepover, in which I had a panic attack in your basement bonus room bathroom and had to get picked up early because it was my first one and I thought I was dying. Probably whisper to her, between warm sheets, that I never took that leap that night, instead paralyzed in fear on my side of the bed. I never reached for you. I don’t think I could. Maybe I wanted to? But I could not. 

What kind of friends were we? I remember finding you funny. I remember wanting to be funny enough for you. I remember how I changed how I texted for you. I remember listening to your favorite music, watching your favorite shows. It was like you were made to be the object from which I sought approval. I needed you to like me. 

I remember sobbing on a November morning because you had confessed and I could not date you because the thought alone brought tremors and cold sweats. And it was almost never because of who you were and almost always because of who I am. Maybe a month later, you asked again and I said yes. And I remember, after we ended, hating the way you dressed. The way you hid yourself, the way I was certainly too loud for you. The way you could never crack a smile, use charisma, and especially not when I needed it. Respond with ‘what do you want me to say?’ and believe the solution to my problems was to remove myself from them completely. To quit, try and get out of it. The way you viewed your humor as elite, superior. I hated how I viewed you in the same way. 

You were always a club I wasn’t in. 

I did not fit in well with your friends. You convinced me you hated them, and that’s why. You weren’t like them, you had been roped in when you were younger, they were childhood friends. You told me you wish you had friends like mine. It was only after I realized you were probably exactly where you wanted to be. Because here you were, at your big age, choosing to continue associating with these people. It was always a choice. And what of my friends? Well, you had articulated your opinions on ‘weirdos’ and ‘freaks’ (what I am), and for some reason, I chose to pretend they were the exception to the rule. That I was. 

Please don’t talk about me to her. I know you’re up right now, doing that exact thing. I will be a footnote in y’all’s epic love story and I need to be okay with that. I was just wondering if I could get away with not being known as the ex who couldn’t even kiss you. 

God. How do you tell people you don’t think you feel romantic attraction? That you believe yourself to be incapable of participating in what is commonly known as life’s greatest feature?  And, worse even, how do I tell you? I want to explain to you why I was how I was. Because I am how I am. But I cannot, God forbid, I cannot end up in a screenshot. Please don’t reduce me to that. Please. 

I can’t tell you. I’ll have to wait a little while or the rest of my life to prove to the world and then to myself, that who I am is who I am. Deep down I hope I am wrong.

[lurkingshan]

Looking up at the stars, I know quite well

That, for all they care, I can go to hell,

But on earth indifference is the least

We have to dread from man or beast.

How should we like it were stars to burn

With a passion for us we could not return?

If equal affection cannot be,

Let the more loving one be me.

[harrenhalyuri]

omw to romance marazhai again now that my hopes of romancing einrich monteg have been dashed

[erumai-maadu]

you know, i think tenten will also give them good luck charms for protection like how she gave her tsunade-sama one in sd.

she totally would, with her penchant for fortune telling, she’d handcraft three good luck/protection charms and give them to each of them.

I like to think she gives them to each of her team at different times.

Lee gets his first, after Tenten overhears him telling Gai-sensei about how he has almost lost hope in his dream to beat Neji.

“Perhaps just hard work isn’t enough,” he sobs to Gai-sensei as Tenten walks away, her heart heavy. She hands him a little good-luck charm at training the next day, a carved dragon, quietly telling him that he should never lose hope.

Neji may be a genius, but Lee is a genius of hard work, and she will protect his boundless hope until he achieves his dream. Perhaps it comes from a place of selfishness. After all, Tenten is no genius herself, and Lee’s hope is her hope too.

Or maybe it’s not selfishness, but relatability.

Whatever it is, Lee thanks her with a huge hug and many, many tears. Tenten protests loudly, but deep down, her heart swells.

He always keeps it in the hidden pocket of his jumpsuit, and never forgets to take the charm out before washing it. He shows it off with pride to everyone, much to Tenten's chagrin.

Gai-sensei receives his next, after both Tenten and Lee end up in the hospital after the Chunin Exams.

After Tenten is healed, she finds her sensei standing over a sleeping Lee, tears rolling down his face. He immediately puts on an act when Tenten walks in, but she knows what she saw, and it weighs on her.

The next day, when Gai-sensei pops into her physical therapy to check on her and offer some good old Gai-sensei encouragement (motivational shouting), Tenten pulls him aside. She hands him a small charm she’d made the previous night, a little wood turtle carved with the symbol for luck.

“Don’t worry sensei, the people you care about will always be okay!” She smiles brightly at him as she sets the charm in his hand. “It’s for protection—”

Gai-sensei’s thanks is also in the form of many, many tears and shouted declarations of his sweet lotus flower’s kindness and compassion. Tenten’s response, as usual, is loud and embarrassed protests, and a secret smile muffled in Gai-sensei’s broad shoulder as he hugs her tightly.

Gai keeps his charm in the safest pocket of his jounin vest, going as far as to ask Genma to give him a seal to make sure it never breaks or gets damaged. After all, his lotus gave it to him so he could protect her and her teammates, and he would rather die than let her down.

Neji is the last to receive his charm, after his fight with Naruto in the final round of the Chunin Exams. He sits in the hospital room and tells her about everything, his clan, his uncle apologizing to him, his restored faith in the future.

"I will change my clan," he insists to her. "I will better it, for all of the Hyuuga."

The next morning, through the rubble of a torn-apart and betrayed village, in the wake of the Sandaime Hokage's death, Tenten walks to the Hyuuga compound dressed in her mourning clothes and deposits a small carved phoenix charm in his hand.

"What's this for?" he asks, turning the charm over in his hand and studying it.

"Good fortune, protection." Unlike the rest of Team Gai, Tenten always keeps her stories to herself. For some reason, she finds the words tumbling out of her. "My mother used to make them for me. They were for protection and good luck."

Neji nods. He runs a thumb over the carved bird's wing. "Protecting what?"

"My hopes, my well-being, whatever it was she thought needed to be protected."

Neji finally looks up at her, understanding filtering through his gaze. Tenten turns around, ears burning. "Come on, let's go. They'll kill us if we're late to the funeral."

Neji stows his charm in the pockets of his clothes and jogs after her.

Several years later, when Lee surpasses everyone around him, his taijutsu a shining beacon of his hard work and dedication, he is ever aware of the wooden dragon in his pocket, the way his hope is a reflection of Tenten's. He vows to work harder, to prove to her that she can do it just like him.

He will protect her hope too.

On the battlefield facing down Madara Uchiha, Gai quickly moves the little turtle charm to the pocket over his heart. To protect the village, to protect his precious students, he can do anything.

"Eighth Gate of Death, release!"

As medics work to stabilize Neji in the emergency tents, they find a blood-soaked phoenix charm clutched in his hand.

His full recovery is nothing short of a miracle.

[eldritch-flame]

Making a Flight Rising skin out of impulse for the Flameforger contest, wish me luck gang

[severinwoolf]

Did it though? Did it really? What fucking eating disorder did this tweet prevent? Show me the carfax 🙄

[lunanoc]

the more i read through the early dmbj books with the hindsight of things that are unveiled as far down the line as queen's banquet the more i'm floored by the sheer amount of details that have been there from the start explaining and tying everything together so seamlessly

w h a t

[weirdmarioenemies]

Name: Gobblick

Debut: Mario & Luigi: Brothership

The embargo on Brothership enemies that-I'm-not-sure-if-we-actually-had-or-not is OVER! Which MOD TWEETER is happy about, because she finally gets to talk about her favorite creature from the whole game: GOBBLICK!

From the success of fictional pitcher plants like Victreebel and...er...Victreebel, it's no secret that they've captured the hearts of millions worldwide! And yet, finding a decent video game pitcher plant in this day and age is hard. And that's sad! Especially since Wet-Dry World has arbitrarily decided my rent should be paid for in articles about video game pitcher plants!

Gobblick is SUCH a good pitcher plant design though, definitely worth the wait!! Look at that gut! Those spots! That big, long licker! The ridges on its leaf and lower jaw, seamlessly combining pitcher plant and bear trap aesthetics!

But, of course, the BIG show-stopper: EYES IN A VOID, BABY!!!! I love it!! It works PERFECT with the pitcher plant design! In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if they added them to REAL pitcher plants in a future update! They even remind me of that one talking pot in Winnie-the-Pooh that stuck onto my mind since I watched it as a child!

Since they're on the INSIDE of what is definitively its mouth, though, that raises the question...are these Gobblick's eyes at all? What if they're the eyes of something else? But...what would that something else be? A spider? A Lickitung? Perhaps it's the eyes of a treeshrew, and it's attacking out of embarrassment of us catching it using the bathroom? I'm sorry, hypothetical treeshrew! But you probably shouldn't stay in there, if that's the case, even if you're shy!

Or, most likely, these ARE the eyes of the noble Gobblick, and it uses them to watch its food go down! When you're a pitcher plant, is there honestly anything better to do?

Yes! And that thing is: attacking plumbers! Gobblick is such a fan of battling Mario & Luigi that he has not one, but TWO battles against them! That may not seem like a lot, but that's more than most Mario bosses in most single mainline games!

"Well, that's fine and all, but I bet none of its attacks include the coveted Root Attack," you might scoff. And you'd be wrong! Although real pitcher plant roots are, frankly, not really something to write home about, the root arms of Gobblick are able to dig through ground as they approach the brothers, in a way similar to Whispy Woods! Kirby's Dream Land 2 fans rejoice!

But, this isn't even Gobblick's only form! In fact, the first time I saw and fell in love with Gobblick was in its SECONDARY form! Warning, however, that this form is built off of integral spoilers for the game, so if you click below, do so wisely...!

Name: Glohm Gobblick

Debut: Mario & Luigi: Brothership

WOW! If you loved Gobblick already, then I hope Glohm Gobblick was worth the wait–it certainly was, for me!

Wine-red is just a perfect yet underrated color, especially for pitcher plants! I couldn't believe I had never thought about making a reddish pitcher plant prior, myself, but that just goes to show how ingrained plant color stereotypes are! I saw a picture of a pitcher eating a rat once, and it never escaped my mind, and THAT was red!

But Glohm Gobblick isn't just this beautiful shade of red for no reason! It's under the effect of being Glohmed, which makes anyone other than Mario & Luigi more powerful while amplifying their desire to be isolated and lonely! And unlike some other characters, there's nobody around that's worried for our poor friend Gobblick...it exists only as an optional boss you can come across on your own. Don't worry, Gobblick, we love you...!

Gobblick is never truly alone, however. Thankfully, the game specifies that this is not the Gobblick, but a Gobblick! It's one of MANY! Please expect Gobblick to make its way alongside Toads and Piantas as one of the main recurring Mario People, being charming background fodder for decades to come.

Or not, since it's canonically from another world. Too bad.

This should cover my Wet-Dry Rent for the next few weeks! Join me next time when I finally cover the last in the top three most popular video game pitcher plants: Weepinbell. Bye.

[solarpoweredpunkpossum]

having complicated feelings about the politics of rage

like that specific kind of debate bro whose videos are all "liberal DESTROYED raging feminist OWNED by calm facts and logic haha i'm so smart and cool" who thinks anyone not in a perfect stoic state must immediately be wrong (and by proxy their ability to "argue" about things that don't affect them divisive topics calmly means they must be right)

seeing people finding their ways to scream into the void for reaping week or vent the anger and indignity at how screwed up our world is... why is it so taboo? why is it so bad to be upset at, yknow, things that should upset any rational, compassionate person?

because yeah, anger isn't rational and tends to find targets rather than solutions, but for fluff's sake it doesn't just go away! you can't turn off your passion! and you shouldn't! you should be upset! you should be upset about climate change and billionaires and rising fascism! you should be upset that the world is unjust!

but we've created, or accepted, or failed to question, this framework where being calm makes you more correct and being visibly passionate or upset is a bad thing, where being riled up by someone who thinks you don't deserve rights is a sign of weakness, where caring loudly and vibrantly is somehow bad optics because being angry looks bad.

angry people are dangerous. angry people can't be trusted. angry people shouldn't be listened to. angry people can't control their emotions. angry people should just calm down. angry people should be subdued.

just shut up and take it already, won't you?

like. look. the doomerism and despair is strong outside of communities like this. so often i find myself asking where is your rage!? where is your hope?! your joy, your passion, your conviction that a better world will be made!

i spent a long time drowning in some pretty rough crap. when i managed to crawl out of it, the first thing i felt was relief. the second was burning, white-hot rage that i had lived like this, that i had been allowed to live like this. anxiety makes you want to shrink down, be as small as possible, as unintrusive, as unnoticeable. anger told me to be loud, be bright, be visible, shout from the rooftops that i deserved better, turn passion into action instead of wallowing.

yes, i am angry at the world and i should be. i am upset that people who have more money than i can even conceive of can run the planet into the ground and blame me for using too much plastic. i am upset that my existence is someone else's political fodder they can fearmonger about for engagement. i am upset that people are dying over numbers on a graph and lines on a map. i am upset that billions of dollars for guns and tanks gets written off without question, but the single mother of two on food stamps is what's draining the budget. i am upset and i'm not going to apologize for it, because that isn't "letting my emotions control me," it's having basic fluffing compassion for other people.

sorry i can't be calm like you while you're holding a gun to my head. it must be easier when it's your finger on the trigger.

[shhtickerbook]

Baby Feathers

Merry Christmas!

(Helluva Age regression ficlet that takes place post sinsmas)

I don’t see enough fics that have caregivers who want to try regressing!!! So I decided to fill that void and the soul destroying events of sinsmas gave me lots of agere fodder. have a lovely holiday everybody!!! Fic below!

Stolas had everything planned. It was new years Eve and both Stolas and Blitzø had the holiday just to themselves. Millie and Moxxie were spending the holiday with Millie’s family in Wrath, whilst Loona was going to another party at Beelzebub’s. Stolas had spent many a New Year’s Eve at insufferable galas, but there had always been one silver lining. Both himself and Via would slip away from the ball, where the two would sit on the roof of their mansion and watch the first new year’s moon come to rise. He still hadn’t realised that this would be the first year where they wouldn’t be able to share their tradition. He couldn’t stop thinking of Octavia, their last interaction cruelly playing on loop in his mind. His heart was breaking with every second, but at least he had Blitzø. If he hadn’t been grieving so painfully, maybe he’d be able to enjoy himself.

There was one aspect he found great comfort in though, and that was being able to take care of Blitzø. Over the past few months he’d been introduced to the Imp’s smaller side, which had taken a while for Blitzø to open up about it properly. He was a pretty headstrong character, and struggled s lot when it came to expressing any kind of vulnerability.

Stolas had actually found out by accident, with Blitzø regressing involuntarily after a bad night terror. Stolas’s heart had broke when he found his partner looking so afraid and vulnerable. Blitzø wasn’t able to really explain what was happening, but Stolas was already a parent, it was second nature to know how to comfort little ones after a bad dream. The next morning Blitzø had explained what happened, sometimes he found himself slipping younger in age, usually when he was stressed or was reminded of bad things. Especially since he lost his mother, she was the only person who treat him with gentle nurturing care. When he lost her, he never got to feel that again. So when he began to have these episodes, it became a part of himself he had to hide out of shame.

For a long time he continued to suppress this side of himself, pushing away all these childish longings. But he could only hold it back for so long until his body decided for him. When he did find out, Stolas was almost too supportive of it, finding this side of Blitzø absolutely darling. Lavishing him with toys, clothes and all kinds of things he never even considered trying. Stolas even found himself getting a lot out of caring for him too, it made him feel needed.

-

Blitzø had to admit that it felt great to not hide this side of him anymore. Stolas had officially seen every episode of that pony show, and helped Blitzø brush the manes of every single horse figurine he owned. But ever since the trial, neither Blitzø or Stolas had the time or the mental energy to take come time to relax.

Stolas had felt so guilty that in his current state he hadn’t been able to care for Blitzø, and had even collected a set of gifts for him to open from Sinsmas. On the day itself he’d set aside his little gifts so that he wouldn’t have to open them in front of the others. So he’d made the decision to surprise him with a “little sinsmas” on new years, when they knew they’d have the house all to themselves.

Stolas woke up early to get out the gifts he had stored away. Thankfully he had purchased these before he’d lost all of his money and possessions. But when he did get up, he felt awful. The former prince had slept terribly, tossing and turning as he once again replayed what had happened with Via. He was then cursed with unpleasant dreams that only tortured him further. All he wanted was his daughter, but she wanted nothing to do with him.

Regardless of how he felt, he pushed himself through it, today was for Blitzø. The imp had done so much for him recently, he had to pay it back somehow. He quietly looked through Blitzø’s wardrobe in search of some of his little clothes, choosing an oversized hoodie with some colourful horse motifs. It even had an adorable woollen mane that went down the hood. Last of all he collected a plastic box at the bottom of the wardrobe, stolas recognising it. Inside Blitzø kept all of his baby things, pacifiers, some teethers and other equally adorable equipment. It was adorned with multiple stickers, all in the horse variety.

As he entered back into the main room, stolas began to gather some ingredients for breakfast. The plan was to make Blitzø some oatmeal for breakfast, which was simple enough. Blitzø always liked it drizzled with cherry syrup, and if he was feeling little enough he’d even let Stolas feed him.

Stolas carefully arranged the gifts wrapped in coloured paper by the tree, flicking on the fairy lights for added effect. He loved the small touches of sinsmas, indulging in the little details that made it feel magic. Blitzø had mentioned how sinsmas wasn’t really a special thing when he was a kid, the circus would perform through the whole holiday. Which included an extra special sinsmas day show which was very popular, but it meant he never got to really enjoy the holiday.

He thought of a little blitz crouched by the tree, tearing open coloured parcels in glee. You couldn’t help but smile. As a final touch, he pulled the blinds open to let the light in. Such a simple action turned into a huge mistake. As Stolas glanced outside, his gaze was caught to the horizon. Peeking just through the clouds was the new moon, only barely visible. By tonight it would be hanging at the peak of the sky, even in daylight it was beautiful.

How could something so beautiful destroy him so painfully? Stolas remembered everything, his special tradition with his daughter. He thought of Octavia, sitting alone and watching the moon rise. The way she spat her words towards her father, looking like she genuinely despised him. Who was he kidding? It didn’t look like he hated him, she did hate him. Stolas just sank to the floor, his beak quivering as he felt tears building in his eyes. It was all too much. All he wanted was to hold his daughter in his arms again, but would that ever happen again?

she hated him.

she HATED him.

-

Blitzø turned over in bed, dozily reaching over into the empty space of his bed. He’d gotten so used to sleeping next to somebody again, so when he didn’t feel any feathers in his grasp, it pulled him out from his snoozing.

“Mmme- Stolas?”

He mumbled, eyes fluttering open. As suspected, Stolas wasn’t anywhere to be seen. Pushing himself up onto his elbow before rubbing his eyes, recently Stolas had been the one who stayed in bed. Blitzø would usually let him sleep in for as long as he needed, sometimes leaving a note if he had to leave for work.

With a yawn Blitzø pulled himself up, before hearing something from outside the room. It took him a second to realise in his sleep addled state, but he could clearly hear a sadly familiar sound of crying. Within a second he’d jumped from the bed and thrown open the door.

“Stolas? are you okay?”

In hindsight it was a pretty stupid question, especially when he found said bird on the floor of his sitting room. He was curled in on himself, sobbing bitterly. It was uncomfortably reminiscent of what he’d been like when Octavia had rejected him.

“Hey hey- what’s going on?”

Blitzø joined him on the floor, resting a hand over Stolas’s shaking back. Stolas flinched at the touch at first, but couldn’t help but fall into Blitzø’s hold. Blitzø could feel Stolas’s feathers quivering as he tried to control his sobbing. The Imp couldn’t help but notice that a lot of his little stuff was scattered across the room.

His box of pacifiers and that one hoodie he liked to wear, there were also some new gifts under the tree.

“I had planned to- I’m sorry, i just wanted to make today special for you.”

Stolas whimpered, feeling like he’d ruined everything. He thought he would feel better today, if he got to care for Blitzø. But right now owl felt as fragile as glass, but Blitzø held onto him tight and securely. It clicked as he realised what Stolas had been trying to do, his expression softening.

“Oh stolas, it’s okay.”

“It’s not! All I’ve done is mope around and you’ve had to do everything for me. Not to mention the money you’ve spent and the time I’ve taken up. I had it all planned, you deserved a break-“

It took him a little time to string together his response, tears continuing to dribble down his feathers. He felt pathetic, how was he going to care for a regressed Blitzø when he was this much of a mess? It furthered his suspicion that was just a complete failure when it came to any kind of caregiving.

“Stolas listen to me, it’s okay. It’s.. really sweet you thought of this.”

Blitzø gently tilted his beak to meet his face, the tearstained bird’s expression tugging something on his heartstrings. He looked around, spotting the half made breakfast and carefully arranged presents. All the effort he’d made, for him no less.

“I don’t deserve you.”

He chuckled, managing to pull the lanky heap of owl closer into his lap the best he could. His statement seemed to reactivate Stolas tears though, who cried intelligibly into his chest. It was the other way around, it was Stolas that didn’t deserve him.

Whilst Blitzø still wasn’t entirely sure on what had triggered this, it didn’t take an idiot to know it was related to Octavia. In the time Blitzø had known Stolas, he’d never seen him like this. The Goetian Prince was so broken, fragile. But thankfully Blitzø had some experience in that feeling already.

He let him cry it out for a few minutes, with the shoulder of his shirt becoming very wet. He ran his fingers up and down Stolas’s feathers, gently preening him as he murmured comfort. The sobs eventually died down into sad sniffling, but the grip around him still hadn’t broken. Although Stolas’s heart was breaking, Blitzø’s grip around him was at least keeping said shards in place.

As Blitzø rubbed his back, he was hit with a sudden idea. He felt a little guilty that Stolas had gone through all this trouble for him, especially as he wasn’t feeling anywhere near small. And as much as he cared for Stolas, he couldn’t fake his regression either. Anyways, he didn’t feel like he was the one need in comfort right now.

“Hey, here’s an idea. I know we’ve never talked about this before, but what if you let me take care of you today?”

Stolas stirred a little with a frown, peeling his crispy feathered face away from Blitzø’s chest.

“What do you mean?”

“You take care of me when I’m feeling low, why not let me baby you for once? You’re lookin’ like you need it.”

The more Blitzø thought about it, the more he wanted to give it a try. There was something about the forlorn bird in his arms that melted his heart a little. Was this how Stolas felt with him? Nah, he couldn’t he this cute.

“No, you’re my baby. I care for you, I care for people- it’s what I like to do.”

Stolas suddenly felt flustered, face lighting up bright red. He’d never even considered the idea of swapping roles before. Blitzø was his baby, never the other way around. He wasn’t sure if it felt right to him, he wanted to be the one caring for Blitzø.

“Yeah, and you do a great fuckin job at it. So why not let me return the favour, you might even like it?”

Blitzø teased as he gently pinched the owls red cheeks, already delighting in the idea. Stolas found himself wavering a little, especially with how shivery and weak he was. He looked over at the gifts guiltily, but Blitzø already had it covered.

“Look we could try it today, if you don’t like it, we’ll stop. We can save the gifts for tomorrow, and then you can have your turn babying me, sound okay?”

Blitzø sounded so sure that Stolas found it hard to disagree. Although it still felt very alien, he definitely appreciated this cuddling part right now. So in the end gave a defeated shrug, Blitzø’s face lighting up.

“You just relax and let me take care of everything, feathers.”

Stolas shook for a second, before burying his beak into Blitzø’s shoulder again. Fresh tears erupted seemingly for no specific reason. But this time there was a sense of catharsis that came with it, to be able to cry in safety. Was this how Blitzø felt when Stolas would comfort him whilst small? He hoped so, as it felt pretty damn good.

Blitzø began to rock him back and forth, kissing the crown of his feathers. He gave him a few more minutes to cry, Stolas had been forcing himself into long periods of numbness recently and clearly needed it. Eventually Blitzø shifted Stolas to the side a little, who whined at the movement.

“Lemme just move ya onto the couch, I can’t feel my fuckin’ legs anymore.”

With quite a bit of effort, Blitzø managed to lift the bird onto the couch. Unfolding the blanket over the armrest and tucking it around his skinny frame. Whilst no longer sobbing, Stolas had been reduced to the awkward hiccupy stage. Blitzø told ahold of his hand, squeezing softly to get his attention.

“Hey try and breathe a little, in and out.”

The imp demonstrated, and Stolas tried his hardest to follow. But he found himself falling back into the unhelpful gulping, even with Blitzø’s help.

“Here’s an idea.”

Blitzø turned and rifled through his little box, finding an unopened package. Blitzø himself still hadn’t used these ones as he didn’t like the colours. Stolas turned to see what Blitzø was doing, with his pupils pin-pricking when he spotted it. In his hands was a package of pacifiers, a pack of three different shades of lilac to dark blue.

“You’re doing a shitty job at breathing right now, try one of these. You’ll have no choice but to breathe a little slower.”

He spoke so casually, holding out a dark blue pacifier. Stolas had seen this kind of item many, many times now. But now when it was being presented to him, rather from him? It felt a little scary. Blitzø watched as stolas internally fought with himself, rolling his eyes.

“Cmon, open that beak for me, feathers.”

He used the pet name for the second time, which made Stolas melt a little. As if beyond his control he held his beak open, Blitzø placing the pacifier there before he could change his mind.

The sensation was certainly strange at first, the bird wasn’t really sure what to do with it. But his body was still hellbent on breathing hard, so he focused on trying to breathe nasally instead. Without realising he began to suck on the bulb, and breathed in and out. If it hadn’t been such sad circumstances, Blitzø would’ve definitely taken a photo. It was just too fucking cute. Instead he joined Stolas on the couch, still demonstrating his breathing in time to Stolas’s.

“Feels good doesn’t it?”

Stolas looked up at him lazily, his was face a little red self consciously. But he couldn’t lie, the rhythmic sensation of the pacifier was incredibly soothing. With each minute he understood just why Blitzø liked them so much. There was a cloudy fuzzy sensation in his head, one that forced him away from all the sad and scary feelings. It was a blissful escape, but it wasn’t numbing him the way his pills used to.

So he nodded at his partner, squeezing his hand back tight. They spent the next twenty minutes just cuddling, and Stolas honestly felt the calmest he had in months. Blitzø eventually had to pry the owl off of him to sort out breakfast, turned on the TV for Stolas. He considered what to put on, before setting on an incredibly corny fairytale movie about a princess. But it was worth it to see the way Stolas’s eyes lit up when it came on.

Blitzø made himself a cup of coffee, and poured one of Stolas’s weird fancy teas into one of his own sippy cups. Choosing the moonlight unicorn design, after forcing stolas to watch every episode of his horse show, Stolas had eventually chosen his favourite character. When he returned to the couch, Stolas shuffled over to curl into his chest again. The pacifier still hasn’t left his beak since placing it there, he looked undeniably adorable. Blitzø was just so happy to see him looking content for the first time in days. The two could just spend their day with each-other’s company, enjoying every moment.

-

Neither demon even made it to the end of the movie, the two of them passed out in a tangle of limbs. The bird with his head curled underneath Blitzø’s chin, the imp’s hand subconsciously still stroking his feathers. Blitzø had gotten so used to himself being the baby in their relationship, that he’d never considered how much he’d enjoy swapping places. The remainder of their day continued in a similar fashion, Blitzø leading Stolas along in hand. And to his surprise Stolas was a very quiet little, who didn’t speak much for the rest of the day.

It was different than when he was quiet when he was sad though, Stolas would still giggle if Blitzø said something funny and was clearly enjoying himself. Stolas just felt happy that he didn’t have to try and think of words right now, he could just be. He allowed Blitzø to dress him in some loose cuddly clothes, and even hand feed him little squares of pancake when he felt up to eating.

Blitzø loved learning more about this little side of him. And Stolas found himself embracing a part of himself he’d never even uncovered. They spent the day indoors, playing games and watching movies. In the evening when Blitzø was busy running a bath for him, Stolas couldn’t help but glance outside. The moon was beginning to rise in the early evening, himself and Blitzø agreed to head to bed before midnight. The whole new year’s celebration never interested him too much, he really only ever used it as an excuse to get wasted.

Stolas pulled the pacifier from his beak and dropped it to the floor. Feeling the fog of his small space drift away, he took in a deep breath. Slipping outside onto the balcony, he dared himself to look up at the moon. Giving anything just for one more moment with Octavia, wondering what she was doing right now.

“I know you hate me, and that you can’t even hear me- But I love you so very much.”

He spoke to himself quietly, not breaking eye contact with the rising moon. Hoping that just maybe Octavia could somehow get the message. He stayed there for a little while, not even realising the slow tears dripping down his face until he felt a hand on his. Blitzø didn’t say anything, he stood aside the Owl for a while until he stirred from his trance.

“I got your bath ready, even added a bunch of those bath nukes you like.”

“Bath bombs- you mean.”

Stolas couldn’t help but correct, although he still sounded sad. Blitzø held onto his hand and lead him back inside, finding the pacifier abandoned on the floor.

“Hey you still want this buddy?”

He held it up, unsure if Stolas was feeling completely big again. The owl looked at the object, clearly considering it. He watched the Imp as he stared up at him with genuine adoration. Instead of a verbal response, he just took the pacifier back and allowed himself to sink back into that comforting headspace. The Goetian prince stood tall above Blitzø, and to any old person they must’ve looked ridiculous. But Blitzø looked up at the tall owl and only saw a little baby bird, one that was in desperate need of some love and care.

“Cmon then baby feathers, I have a whole collection of rubber duck horses just waiting to play with ya-“

Merry Christmas y’all ❤️❤️❤️

[bits-and-babs]

✦ 𝐇𝐄𝐗 𝐂𝐎𝐃𝐄 ✦

– KINKTOBER DAY 9: WITCH!READER

din djarin x nightsister!reader | smut, 18+ | 1k words

summary: given the task to hunt down an enchantress renowned for her deviancy, din fails to understand just how hard this mission will be to complete.

cw: f!nightsister!reader. dub-con - seduction through enchantment. orgasm denial, threat of cumming untouched, fully clothed, grinding. very similar to something i've already written, but fancied revisiting it - still just as difficult the second time around!!

⇽ KINKTOBER MLIST | DAY 10: CHEATING ⇾

The coordinates handed to Din in the bounty puck Greef Karga had practically thrust into his palm like it carried a bad disease were cursed. The digits and numbers scrawled in blood red pixels across the screen of the Crest when he’d loaded the blasted things might as well have spelt out ❝ ur bantha fodder ❞.

In any other mission upon any other planet, the whole debacle might just have pulled a twitch of a smile behind the Beskar mask. But the crimson of the coordinate pixels are a dead ringer for the ruddy scarlet of your irises, and suddenly Din was struggling to find the humour in this lethal situation he’d miraculously and carelessly found himself in. 

Instead, Din watches a sinister smirk creep across your face, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end. Dire straits were never straighter than a Zabraki Night Sister on her home planet of Dathomir. 

“I cannot claim to have seen your kind here before,” your velvety voice trickles down Din’s spine. Admittedly, there's an inexplicable agitation dancing in his fingertips, suddenly unsure to the extent just how precarious this fragile stand-off was. Clenching his fists, he steels himself against your probing gaze and reminds himself of the Nightsister’s proximity to the force, and their ability to wield it. 

“I–”

“I know,” you muse, approaching Din with balanced, measured steps. “A member of the Bounty Hunter Guild. You don’t have to state your business.” 

Din’s teeth ache under the pressure with which he grinds his jaw. An impossible foe, he should have considered the risks before arriving on Dathomir. A Nightsister was the last target he could improvise his battle strategy for… 

“I do appreciate your desperation,” you hum softly, practically stalking around Din and tracing the silver surface of his Beskar armour with the tip of your index finger, “I am sure that the occupation allowed for frequent travelling. In turn, it protects the child.” 

A purge bomb could drop in utter silence and Din was almost certain he’d miss it, a rush of blood roaring in his ears as his heart rate lept. Your eyes find his own through the visor of his helmet with unsettling ease, given it obscured his face. 

The moment Din comes to realise he was truly outmatched, he finds himself unable to retreat.

“Hm,” you smile again, a glint of something cunning gleaming in your eyes as you watch him struggle, “I wouldn’t bother, Mandalorian.” 

A grumble of indignation twists violently on Din’s tongue, curdling into a gasp of pleasure. It’s barely there, almost silent, but the victory that dances in the voids of your eyes tells Din you heard it. 

“I must confess,” you murmur, watching as Din starts to feel his knees beginning to buckle at the pleasure that was bubbling beneath his skin, “I enjoy your vulnerability. I never imagined a man as imposing as yourself would be so easy to make mewl.”

If not for the phantom palm applying pressure to his cock, Din would have snapped back with some snarky comment. Instead, he feels entirely tongue tied, eyes rolling back as bliss almost split him down the middle.

“Though it leaves me little fun,” you admit solemnly, your eyes not quite matching your dispirited timbre, “I need to establish a new objective. Perhaps steaming up that visor of yours?” 

Finally buckling beneath the weight of the armour and his shuddering body, Din’s knees hit the dusty, red Dathomirian ground. He groans softly, cock straining in his pants as he watches you lean over him, studying every twitch and writhe of his arousal-riddled body. You seemed to appreciate the pathetic whine that builds in the back of his throat as he rocks his hips forwards, grinding his crotch into the seam of his trousers for some friction, anything to ease the agonising throb. 

“I usually make intruders suffer– though it’s customary to torture them with pain, I find pleasure makes a person far more malleable,” Din hears you address him with such ease, as though you hadn’t reduced him to a blubbering, trembling wreck with the mere thought of doing so. “This… Greef Karga. He’s aware of the bounty you seek, correct?”

“Ohh–” Din breathes and it’s pathetic. Almost like a wail, the sound travels across the open, rocky Dathomirian plains. You raise an eyebrow, prompting Din to speak– and it’s though the words fall from his loose tongue before he can trap them behind his lips. 

“Yes– He-fuck-he knows it’s y-you–,” the sound startles Din. His voice sounds unlike himself, breathy and gritty and desperate to cum- stars, he’s so desperate to cum!

He tries to stretch his thighs open wider, praying it will alleviate some of the building pressure, but his pelvis seems to have a mind of its own and starts to grind against the inseam of his flight-suit trousers that lays flat against his cock. The friction causes a gut-wrenching groan to rumble in his chest.

“Karga. I don’t suppose he sent you because he was too fearful to face me himself? Tell me, what was I deemed a fugitive for?” You muse, circling Din’s writhing body and prattling off a long list of potential reasons for the sextuple digit bounty hanging above your head. “There was the jedi I killed, that sith who inquired about my services– to which I didn’t realise I was aiding and abetting Emperor Palpatine, for your informati–”

“The assassin, Ventress–” Din grit out behind his teeth, cock pulsing in his trousers and threatening to empty his seed like a teenager. “He’s looking for her.”

He watches you pause, chest heaving while observing the surprise at this revelation. Three months ago, the guild had issued the ‘hit’. The bounty was for information instead of your head delivered to Greef Karga in a basket. None of them had ever been stupid enough to believe themselves strong enough to take on a Nightsister. 

“Now,” you grin, crouching to face Din eye-to-eye. There’s that gleam again, the teasing look in your ruby irises sparking arousal down his nerve endings with another strained moan. The building pressure, threatening to spill over and causing Din to vibrate with need cut out almost instantly, the teetering orgasm dying away with the sudden slump of his exhausted body. 

“Why didn’t you inquire about Ventress in the first place?” You hum gleefully, amused by the orgasm denial and relishing in having such a strong man beneath your feet, much to Din’s utter embarrassment. “It would have saved you a very steamy visor.”

pedro pascal/kinktober taglist:

@xwing-baby , @mybugboy , @pansa-1-san , @pedrosprincess , @cosm1c-babe , @lil-stark , @heart-atttack @crybaby-blue-blog, @ssimelttilgniht @2pacacabra @pauldanosgf @leithatnight @kirsteng42 @dindjarinsmut @s0ftgabby @milly-louise @aynsleywalker @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @uncassettodiricordi @howellatme @mortallyuniquepeach @maviee @eatingtheworldsoffanfiction @stvrlights-world @alloftheboysivelovedbefore @girlofchaos @s-u-t @pintsizedsunshine @djarin-dreams @solidly-indulgent @bii-aan-ckaa @casa-boiardi @maelstrom007 @nikisfwn @levi-llama @haunt3dh3art @lundenloves @rentaldarling @cyberpr1m3 @jedi-in-crocs @yunggoblin @spideyman-peter @iaur @cool-iguana @paleidiot

@bloodmoon-bites @wiltedwonderland @doggydale @limegreenbabx @namelesshumanperson @ninahhh-brahh @km-ffluv @decaffeinateddinosauronearth @domaniquessidehoe2 @arrozyfrijoles23 @amisouki @sleepysheepsstuff @chunguk @lundenloves @marylovesdilfs @ninahhh-brahh @namelesshumanperson @limegreenbabx @doggydale @wiltedwonderland @justsayk

[aurora-313]

Heyyy,

I've tried and tried again to find the bright side of the ending and the Canon couples but I just can't. I don't even like the kids and thier designs are lacking. On top of that, I'm also dreading the day we get to see them in the anime🤦‍♀️

I've given up on the anime. It's glorified fanfiction, and honestly, nothing Kubo can do can really salvage it. Short of ripping Bleach apart from the very first arc and rebuilding it from scratch.

Franky the thing that I fail to comprehend is how Bleach went from "Monster of the week", where the monsters were fundamentally human in their hatred, desires, miseries and pains, to "let's kill/overthrow God and destroy reality".

Implausibly massive leap for a world that only consists of 3 towns and an empty void, wouldn't you say?

The dissonance is so jarring that it breaks suspension of disbelief. The cardinal sin of storytelling. That's why I don't enjoy TYBW. That's why the epilogue and the hell arcs make no impression on me.

A damning indictment of TYBW's quality as an arc is how forgettable it is. Remove it from the story entirely, and absolutely nothing would change.

There's a cult following in the west, sure, but that's all it has. Manga sales during TYBW tanked in Japan. Viewing figures in japan are in the toilet. The only thing keeping it afloat are diehard groupies who are easily distracted by shiny lights and crappy effects to hide how poorly composed it is.

The arc was utterly forgotten until the 2020 trailer dropped.

The storytelling is jank AF and the main villains are forgettable crybabies.

It's funny. By and large, I feel more emotional connection to three relative scrub Hollows from the shinigami sub arc, characters that only had a dozen chapters between them and viscerally hate them for how human their sadism is, but my eyes glaze over at the Sternritters. I barely remember any of their names.

The Quincy are boring. Yhwach is boring. There was an opportunity to salvage him by playing into the manga evidence he was a grifter who conquered, cursed, enslaved, and ate his way into power... but no. They replaced that with basic bitch daddy issues.

Then, there's artificially inflating Chad and Orihime's importance. The problem is that they're pathetically powerless humans by comparison.

Observe their first encounter with Quilge. Weak in the grand scheme of things, Quilge was casually stripping chunks of flesh off them. Compared to the feats the other Sternritters pull off, what can Chad and Orihime really do? Realistically. What CAN they do? The answer is nothing and worse than nothing.

Chad and Orihime, civilians who use reishi-based attacks, against an army whose been training for years-to-centuries, who dominate reishi as easily as breathing. No amount of training can change the fact they're a stupendously bad match-up against the Quincy. They realised their presence is pouring oil on a fire and thought the solution was to pour even MORE oil on the fire.

Tbqh. Ichigo should've put his foot down and told them to leave with Riruka and Yukio. Chad and Orihime simply cannot keep up with Ichigo anymore. Ichigo had left them completely in the dirt after Soul Society, and the rest of the series is Chad and Orihime in denial about that.

Why does Ichigo have to go through this exhaustive humiliation of a character arc, thanks to his elders leaving him to stew in ignorance, while Chad and Orihime got a free pass? And are ultimately rewarded for living in denial.

Want them to grow? Have them confront and accept Ichigo simply doesn't need them anymore. Have them accept their place isn't on his battlefield but protecting their mutual home. Have them accept they are mortals tangling with gods and demons, and they are in way over their heads.

The only plausible reason Ichigo DOES keep them around is cannon fodder.

As for the endgame ships; I don't want to talk about them, except that Ichigo should have categorically refused to have children on principle. After the shit his heritage put him through, why would Ichigo subject another child to that?

[ozthedm]

Vampire Ascendant Ramblings!

I love Baldur’s Gate 3. I love the vampire genre. I am particularly fascinated with the concept of the Vampire Ascendant for a number of reasons that mainly boil down to “what does it mean to be the Vampire Ascendant and what is the true cost of this power?”

This post is essentially a collection of my observations, thoughts, and headcanons regarding the ascension ritual. Think of this as fanfic inspiration material. Get ready folks, because we’re about to dip a toe into 5e lore and get existential.

What does the Rite of Profane Ascension actually do?

Raphael explains the ritual as thus:

“If he completes the rite, he will become a new kind of being - the Vampire Ascendant. All the strengths of his vampiric form will be amplified, and alongside them he will enjoy the luxuries of the living. The arousals and appetites of man will return to him, and unlike Astarion, he will have no need of a parasite to protect him from the sun. But the ritual has a price, as all worthwhile things do. Lord Cazador will need to sacrifice a number of souls including all of his vampiric spawn if he is to ascend… Your soul will set off a very wave of death, bringing Cazador his twisted life.” 

TLDR: If Cazador offers up the souls of 7000 vampire spawn, then maybe he’ll feel less like shit.

Other specific perks include:

The hunger for blood that plagues all vampires will no longer affect him.

His heart will beat again (Could he even be considered undead at that point?)

He still gets to remain immortal in the sense that he will never age

He can choose to extend his protection from the sun to his spawn, but this protection can be revoked

He can be reflected in mirrors.

There are some details that remain unclear, so here’s where we step into headcanon territory:

Running water will no longer harm him

A normal wooden stake won’t be enough to paralyze him. You’d be better off with a magical weapon

Although he will still need an invitation to enter homes, His enhanced vampiric charm practically makes it a nonissue

And now a couple of notes on Mephistopheles and the contract itself:

“Devils bargain with mortals to upend the divine order. They stake claims on souls that would otherwise go to the gods or be cast adrift somewhere other than the Nine Hells. If you are already a creature of Law and Evil devoted to no other entity, your damned spirit is of meager value.”

  - Mordenkainen’s Tome of Foes

Mephistopheles is an arcane innovator. His realm, Cania, is essentially a giant laboratory where he conducts extensive experiments. 

When it comes to souls, Mephistopheles prefers quality over quantity. He mostly acquires the souls of highly accomplished wizards and sages to help him with his research. To demand the souls of 7000 vampire spawn seems uncharacteristically beneath him (especially for the power he’s offering) 

My thinking is that Mephistopheles is working on something that specifically requires vampiric energy and lots of it. The 7000 spawns are nothing more than fodder.

A devil’s deal never ends well. This is repeatedly stated throughout the game. Considering what we know of Mephistopheles and how little Cazador cares for his spawn, this whole contract sounds far too good to be true. So what’s the catch?

A few possible ideas as to the downsides:

Mephistopheles is always watching. After all, this is a completely new kind of being that warrants study. 

The Ascendant’s hunger for blood is replaced with a different hunger. A hunger that is indescribable and insatiable. He will always yearn for more. More power, more control, more anything. He may even return to Mephistopheles in an attempt to fill the void. 

The Ascendant’s own soul is included in the price, albeit differently. Where the other souls were simply consumed by the ritual, his will serve another purpose. (Not gonna lie, this one sent me on a whole existential journey trying to figure out what is means to have/lack a soul)

I might post more thoughts later, but this is enough for now

[carlottastudios]

CarlottaStudios's Unhinged Kaeya Lore Thoughts Post

Link to read the Google Doc:

AT LAST!!! TUMBLR KAEYA NATION, BEHOLD, THE NONSENSE THAT HAS BEEN OCCUPYING MY KAEYA-DEDICATED BRAINPAN FOR MONTHS!

Quick disclaimer/warning: This document is LONG, it's almost 50 pages, so please don't feel pressured to read the whole thing, especially not in one shot. Also, I have included some disclaimers at both the beginning and end, including the fact that I am not an expert in any of the stuff I've written about in this document and if I have made any mistakes, I apologize, feel free to offer corrections, so long as we're all nice to each other. That said, I don't plan on adding substantially more to this document (ex: a new section) as this isn't and was never meant to be The Kaeya Lore Fodder Post of all time. This is just me taking my lore/theory-adjacent thoughts on Kaeya and yeeting them into the void to see if anyone else is interested.

Speaking of interested persons, a few people have expressed interest in this and even asked me to tag them, which is INCREDIBLY flattering and touching (seriously, thank you so much), so I'm tagging them here: @thenerdhoard @eternal-dokja @prophecyflame @mosamosa3pakosh

I plan on eventually making a mindmap to go along with this word document, but that will be for another day because this was already quite a big project to undertake and I need some rest. In the meantime, I hope you enjoy!

[hestzhyen]

Chapter 54 Dire Posting

Greetings, dear void. So much for the gang getting back together. This arc is going to be a long one, at least compared to the previous two. The pace is still break-neck but there are a lot more conflicts being set up here. I wonder if it would be helpful to visually break it down compared to the Sojo and Rakuzaichi arcs...

Hishaku Machinations and Shiba

What a whimsical guy our main villain is! Just look at him sitting on the kiddie ride at the playground while he discusses the current situation with Worst Jeanist for our benefit.

Also the Shiba glazing, hello? It's always been obvious that Shiba's a cut above most sorcerers, especially after he mostly off-screened 3 out of the 4 Tou members. But to have the Big Bad himself acknowledge that he's basically the best of the best is high praise. Good to know he'll still factor in this arc somehow! I mean, of course he will, he's got direct ties to Kunishige's past, Chihiro, and the Kamunabi. The guy's certainly snooping around and doing more offscreen sorcery as we speak. We'll just have to eagerly await his return to the main story.

I just hope this finally, finally puts the crackpot theories of Shiba being a possible traitor candidate to rest. His mere presence is a huge obstacle for the Hishaku and they clearly went to great lengths to work around him in order to murder Kunishige. They're probably pleased as punch that he's out of the way in present circumstances too. Shiba, beware! Your nephews are in danger and Samura can't take all of your death flags for you!

Why are you still there, bro? Just to show us the dead bodies again?

So, Worst Jeanist is one of the main Hishaku. Interesting... wouldn't have guessed since he dresses worse than the random fodder. My man just rolled out of bed, dove into a box of cast-off high school theater costume pieces and went about his day. Anyway, that means we now have: John/Yura - leader Hat Hishaku - tree guy, Kunishige murderer Samurai Hishaku - dining room guard, Kunishige murderer Jane Hishaku - mom conspiracy theory magnet, Kunishige murderer Worst Jeanist Hiruhiko ... and 4 more yet-to-be-revealed members.

Thanks to Hiruhiko we also know there are 68 "fodder" guys participating in the assault of all four Sanso, of which 34 have datenseki shards (don't think about how many times Char was hurt to make those). And all of them are now attacking Senkutsuji- so the other two Sanso (Kuentaisha and Sushi Subaru) can be assumed to be safe for now.

I wasn't expecting them to be a huge org or anything but this seems really small, doesn't it? Only 10 core members! So there will definitely be political maneuvering on their part to weaken the Kamunabi from within. It's so pleasantly unsatisfying to be strung along bit by bit like this until the grand reveal of the plan...

Based on how John talks at the start of the chapter, it doesn't look like they've accounted for Hakuri- Chihiro's the only one that they count as an addition to the fighting forces on the Kamunabi's side. Granted, Hakuri's probably not a formidable warrior even when he can use Isou; it's only been about 24 hours since he figured out how to harness his sorcery at all. He still needs to train it and get used to fighting in general. But surely the Hishaku would be gunning for him if they knew about his powers. He's the ace in the hole that can completely undo what they're planning!

And now that I think about it, wouldn't the Kamunabi want to have control of Hakuri too? He can summon the Bearers or their blades at will, assuming that the contract overwriting their sorcery makes them unable to resist. They won't let someone who can teleport the blades away from them walk free... poor Hakuri, he's going to be pressed from both sides. But so will Chihiro. At least they'll have each other...?

"Friendship"

Hiruhiko's getting some "hands-on" training thanks to confronting Chihiro (not sorry).

Hiruhiko comes across as really sheltered this chapter. I wonder if all those HCs and if scenarios about Yura being the one to raise him are actually correct...? Yura kind of talks about him like a parent or an owner. Like he raised Hiruhiko in a certain way for a specific purpose. Hm.

So they're trying to temper his immaturity a bit... Hiruhiko is the one who's getting the reality check via his opponent to fuel his growth. Chihiro's already far ahead in his mindset, so he's the one driving his foe's development. He's going to be the reason that Hiruhiko becomes a formidable threat. I love the way the author plays with and blends shounen and action movie tropes so, so much.

Hiruhiko's probably going to be Chihiro's own personal Joker this arc, maybe even into the next depending on how things play out. They're both going to be one-upping each other and learning new things as they adapt. Chihiro himself used a new application of Kuro just to counter Hiruhiko's techniques. Their fights will surely be spectacles every time once they're on even footing!

Speaking of, I am 100% sure that Hiruhiko is going to be a blade wielder before long. John remarked that his sorcery wasn't anything worth writing home about- it was his battle sense and ability to adapt that made him one of the core Hishaku members. So he'll only become stronger by making a contract with an enchanted blade... and truly Chihiro's equal as an enemy.

Equal

I've got a TON of stuff I'm going feral over comparing and contrasting Chihiro, Hiruhiko, and Hakuri, but I'll wait before going on a tangent about it. There's a few crucial bits of information needed before going full-on crazy about how these three hold up compared to each other (not that it will stop me from filling up my sketch book with diagrams and lunatic ravings). But this transition got me so good:

There's that word again- 対等 [taitou], "equal".

There's going to be conflict about what it means to be "equal" between these three. Chihiro and Hiruhiko are already going at it, though it's pretty lopsided from Hiruhiko's end right now. But this could spill back over into Chihiro and Hakuri's relationship too.

Ch. 37: "Equal" from volume 4, titled "Equal"

I will be forever salty that 仲間 [nakama] got translated as "allies". "Partners" or "comrades" would have been better reeeeeeeee

This is where Hiruhiko could throw a spanner in the works. He failed at exploiting Chihiro's cognitive dissonance over killing, but what it means to be "equal" to someone, and a friend... that's brand-new territory for our lonely protagonist. Hiruhiko's probably the first person to approach Chihiro with an offer of friendship, twisted and fucked up as his idea of it is. Hakuri's... passionate proposal of cooperation doesn't really count.

Hakuri's acknowledged Chihiro as a friend, but would Chihiro say the same? Does he think he's worthy of that label- or is he too much of a monster? Does he still feel that sense of imbalance towards Hakuri? I won't speculate here more than this. But by god I hope Hakuri and Hiruhiko face off over what it means to be "equal" to Chihiro.

What about Chihiro himself, though? How's he doing this chapter?

Oh...

He's so genuinely sad about where his choices in life have led him, but he'll never stop until his goal is accomplished. I think he pities Hiruhiko here a little too.

Chihiro thinks he's incomparably worse than Samura, his father, all the "heroes" he grew up admiring and hearing stories about. He thinks he's a monster, but the Hishaku something worse. So he meets them where they are to take them down and stop the spread of evil to innocents.

Chihiro literally gives up his body and lets his blood be spilled to save people. That's not just heroic, it's downright Christ-like. But they run in terror from him all the same. He's a villain by his own choosing and wants people to see him that way. Chihiro doesn't think he's worthy of the accolades given to the adults who tried to steer him away. They were heroes, he's just a murderer. For fuck's sake this guy needs a hell of a lot of therapy.

I'm trying so hard not to go on a major tangent here so maybe I'll do the meta Chihiro analysis another time. I've already got a massive private essay on why I love the writing around Hakuri in the works so may as well do one for him too... anyway, anyway. Just look at how far he's come as a character:

Chs. 1 vs 54

[sobs]

Chihiro is going to suffer for a while yet, probably until the very end. But hopefully this arc will help him realize he's still worthy of love and support. Of basic human decency. Of thinking of himself as a person. (...Hm, who else is struggling with that right now, I wonder...)

Meanwhile, Back at Senkutsuji...

Hello again, Mr. Hat Hishaku. Mr. Hatshaku? We haven't gotten an obvious shot of you since you appeared as a background spook at the end of the Sojo fight in chapter 18.

He was at the dinner table in chapter 40 as well, but we didn't see his hat so it doesn't count.

I wonder if he's the trump card that John was talking about? He certainly seems to be with how thoroughly he overtook the temple already. It's only been about ten minutes too. Things are looking grim for Samura...

Samura, please live. Please. I need you to reunite with Chihiro! And not on your deathbed!

Fuck.

Whatever the Senkustsuji defense forces are planning better be enough... looks like Hiruhiko might be the next one to wield Tobimune though. Actually, where is he moving it and Kumeyuri, anyway...?

Neat trick to be performing while down two arms and pinned to the seat by Chihiro's foot.

There's no way they're giving Uruha and Samura the blades just for giggles. Given the shot of the hole in the ceiling before this panel, Hiruhiko's probably transporting them to himself, but we'll see. Let the theories run wild!

There are many more things I want to say but they're too speculative. I love being wrong every week but some of these things should just stay between me and the brainworms, so... farewell, kind void. Until next time.

[kelvintimeline]

It's insane to me that people are arguing that EEAAO is just like... not at all intellectually engaging. And I really think it's kind of just really bizarre to argue that just because something is positive, it must be... stupid? Or at least lacking in intellectual stimulation.

Like... EEAAO is a deeply philosophical film, even if people aren't waxing poetic about it in the dialogue. Like, we have the basics of the LITERAL philosophies its invoking like yin and yang (and more from philosophies and religions I'm not informed enough on to talk about any length, I'll admit that here), nihilism, and, yes, the existence of a multiverse and what it means to have multiple "selves" which is a metaphysical topic... you're just used to it being diluted by comic book franchises whcih want to have an excuse to reuse the same characters five times and avoid narrative consequence.

And even beyond the like direct philosophical narrative... this film is dealing with extremely deep and... traumatic topics?

Intergenerational trauma and indeed the cyclical nature of suffering isn't a shallow topic just because it's end thesis is that healing is possible and connections can be reformed. It's a film obviously aware of race but also gender, class, and sexuality and doesn't just use those as like "Look, we're diverse, give us points!" fodder. It's dealing with adult issues (including fucking TAXES) with room to be silly.

If you're blinded by hot dog fingers and assuming that means this film is intellectually void, I think... you might be the vapid one. Like, I'm not going to argue this film is genius tier stuff but it is ABSOLUTELY intellectually engaging, narratively and philosphically rich, and has compelling, human stories that exist beyond the surface level. If you are getting lost in the silly veneer, that's absolutely an indictment of YOUR character, not the film itself.

This has the same energy as people calling Nope an empty film. Might not be my place to call it out but it kinda just feels like a knee jerk racist reaction and in inability to parse narratives that aren't exploring "relatable" (ie white) stories. Because like... EEAAO is begging you to engage with its narrative on multiple levels the entire way through, if you aren't doing that... on some level you are just CHOOSING to not do that