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#theories musings and references
maxgicalgirl · 1 year
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So Lubelle’s implication that Cecil’s worldview is fucked up feels very much like the early fan theories that Nightvale is all in Cecil’s head. Don’t know if that’s the direction they’re actually going with this, but it feels relevant. Anyways that’s my 2 cents this episode.
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kikizoshi · 9 months
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Seeing how many eyes Ludwig has in his beastly form, I really like the headcanon that he was one of the few Hunters who reached a high insight without going insane. Like, on top of trying not to be overtaken by the cursed blood, he also at some point began to see things which shouldn't exist, horrible creatures that would shatter any sane mind.
And yet, through all of this, he clung to his tiny ray of light, stayed strong for his fellow Hunters, fighting alongside them for the sake of his people. Of course, we all know how his story eventually ended, but I find it lovely that even in his final moments, Ludwig remembered fellow Hunters, and hoped their fates to be far kinder than his.
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gu6chan · 2 months
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Spending a year translating a novel and am split between the joy of seeing people in the west be able to enjoy something previously only able to be enjoyed by fans in japan and immense regret seeing it used for the worst fucking fan theories you've seen in your life
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reginrokkr · 2 years
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■    ■    ■   𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐲 𝐈: 𝐏𝐢𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐨.
Before getting to elaborate into Dain’s thoughts about Pierro, I think that it’s worth mentioning first and foremost that I do not subscribe to the theory that Pierro holds any familial ties to Kaeya so Dain won’t think of him as such. That said, when interacting with anyone who writes him be sure that I’ll adapt to the take of your muse.
Now onto some context so that what I say will make more sense keeping this in mind: I think of Dain as something akin to the king’s right hand. This is because I reckon that Dain not only is part of what could be considered an elite within the human faction of the military (I say human faction because I presume that the ruin machines are being used for that purpose too, among others I guess), but he’s the captain of said elite which is the Black Serpent Knights, known for even having statues in the castle / palace. Moreover, he also bears a renowned title that highlights him above the others and which was probably known across the kingdom.
Keeping this in mind, I firmly believe that the odds that Dain and Pierro met are high. Even if it might be in passing and they didn’t necessarily talk, I’m positive that they must’ve seen one another. The way I think of it is that the recruitment of new sages might’ve been monitored by the king himself and Dain would stand by his side. 
However, I’ve always gone beyond just seeing one another and I go with the prospect that Dain was actually interested in what Pierro had to contribute with (as I presume that in a greater or lesser extent, he might’ve shared this knowledge he had regarding the veil of sin). I see Dain as someone who loves Khaenri’ah and he’d do everything to protect it, but he’s also concerned about its safety beyond his possibilities and yet, he’s not delusional in thinking that the kingdom was Utopian. He was aware of the faults and messes, of the darkness in some people’s hearts (which he can understand) and he keeps in mind the fact that the abyss might affect them too. As a result of this I’d see Dain reaching out to Pierro and plead him to tell him everything he knows about it as he’d want to know what he can do so that Khaenri’ah doesn’t have to face any tragedy.
Present wise, I’d like to think that within those centuries they encountered one another and had conversations about the gods, about the world and how other nations can suffer the same fate. Maybe they could’ve actually been allies as they might have actual similar thoughts. Dain does seem to have this thematic about him that his deeds could be aligned with the Abyss Order or the Fatui only to be in none and be on his own. But eventually they part ways and accept the other’s way to solve things or if they don’t accept it, I’d like to think that they’d respect it. So as to Dain’s thoughts on Pierro in the present days, I’d say that he respects that he knows exactly what the problem is and that he might be onto a good path to solve the issue before another tragedy happens, but that in essence he can’t agree with his ways. Or that what he chose to do doesn’t correspond with what would be the best for Teyvat in a planetary sense. And I say this because as the Bough Keeper and considering everything Irminsul encompasses, I’m sure that Dain would protect the tree and by extension the world.
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cinnamoncountess · 1 year
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Analysis of themes, topics and other conspicuities in S1 1899 compiled together by a Reddit user, for references.
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aparticularbandit · 3 months
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Debating having a second, parallel fic to dr1 end rewrite that's just. memories.
And then sometimes posting one of those instead of a main fic update to show what memories Kyoko's recovering as time goes on, while also giving a better look (albeit out of order) of stuff that happened prior to the Killing Game.
....
The first chapter would be the first all girls sleepover that Kyoko goes to. Because I think that's apt.
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protect-namine · 7 months
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man I also need to catch up on fontaine AQs because I'm hearing so many interesting things about the lore. are they really taking inspiration from a couple of passages from revelations (yes the book from the bible) for furina. and neuvillette is the leviathan. furina's title in the cn translation referencing babylon the great, whore of babylon??? yes that sounds amazing actually
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hhorror-vacuii · 9 months
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Memory post for me to remeber, that I cannot fully agree with Camille the Beloved Apostle take, because the whole point of the Beloved Apostle is that he cannot be at the same time the sacrificial Lamb!
21 When Peter saw him, he asked, “Lord, what about him?”
22 Jesus answered, “If I want him to remain alive until I return, what is that to you? You must follow me.” 23 Because of this, the rumor spread among the believers that this disciple would not die. But Jesus did not say that he would not die; he only said, “If I want him to remain alive until I return, what is that to you?”
Like, that's the whole thing. The Beloved Apostle is the beloved for many different reasons/without a reason, but the thing about him is that he lives on, goes on and becomes a prophet.
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galedekarios · 7 months
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just musing about gale and his parents:
we only have a handful of conversations where he mentions his parents and when he does, it's usually only his mother, morena dekarios.
his mother is mentioned at several points in the game. during a custom protag playthrough, he mentions her in a datamined conversation that appears to be bugged/broken:
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and he mentions her at the end of the game as well when he proposes to the player:
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i was also able to find another mention in a banter with karlach that usually happens for me shortly after recruiting her:
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from gale's origin, this aspect is explored even more deeply:
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there's more, of course, and it very clearly shows that the bond he shares with his mother is a deep and loving one from both sides. it's also very interesting that he is called dekarios after his mother and not--even though naming conventions could certainly vary even in waterdeep--after his father.
who he doesn't mention at all.
the only time we do get a vague mention is during a conversation with the protag after saving mirkon from the harpies:
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after that, i haven't been able to find any reference, indirect or direct, to gale's father in the game.
so, here we enter theory territory:
i feel that, from a narrative point of view, in keeping with what i think gale's themes are, gale's father may have abandoned gale and his mother when gale was still young.
gale's character is rife with what might be interpreted as abandonment issue and it makes sense to me at least that those weave through his life up until the point where the protag meets him in the game.
another theme with gale is that he appears to have a lot of female figures in this life, who all had a profound impact on him, whether that impact is positive or negative: morena, tara, and yes, mystra.
it feels like to me that he had no father figure--and i use that term a bit more loosely here--until later in his life with elminster. this is already hinted at in a game with a custom protag, but all the more solidified in a gale origin playthrough:
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i think without directing telling you, the game does allow you to sort of guess at that part of his background in this way, and understand why gale is as he is as a consequence. you can also understand why he acts as he does with elminster. seeking his approval. yearning for it. being extremely hurt by elminster having to see him like this when mystra sends him to gale to deliver her... instructions. this almost pointed absence of a mention of his father in all his comments (and tara's too, now that i think about it) when it comes to family is glaring to me.
being left, being abandoned, makes it much more understandable to me why he doesn't speak of him at all: if gale's father had died, it would make more sense to me that he would remark on it or share it in some way or another. it might have come up in a banter with wyll, perhaps, who is struggling with the expectations his own father had placed on him.
"he died when i was still very young." perhaps, or something along the lines of, "i barely remember him; he died when i was only a child.", etc etc etc.
YET if gale's father indeed abandoned his mother--who he holds in such high regard, and not to mention his own hurt--i can easily see and understand why he wouldn't waste a word on him.
anyhow yes, this is long and ramble-y, and i 100% might be reading too much into what may be a simple oversight, but it was interesting to me and i still see it as tying in with the theme of abandonment, even though we don't know the reasons for it in this particular case.
was it not wishing to deal with a child with magical talents he couldn't control yet? was it for another reason entirely?
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jinjeriffic · 2 months
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DCxDP Prophecy Universe Part 5
Part 4
After collecting their bags from the library lockers Jazz led him down the hallway until she found a small, unlocked, empty classroom. The room was barren except for desks and a whiteboard. I guess they don’t bother locking it if there’s nothing worth stealing.
Jazz sat her messenger bag down on the teacher’s desk and pulled a whiteboard marker out of a side pocket.
“Right,” Jazz began, “I don’t know how much you know about ecto-entities and since, as you said, the reports on them tend to be pretty biased, I’m just going to start from scratch. Sounds good?” she rambled.
Tim hopped up onto the front row desk and tried his best to look like an attentive teacher’s pet.
“Yes, Ms Fenton,” he said cheekily.
Jazz gave him an amused look.
“Careful Mr Taylor, or you’ll end up in detention,” she said lightly. She turned to the whiteboard and gathered her thoughts for a moment, then wrote ECTO-ENTITIES in large block letters, “Many people refer to all ecto-entities as ghosts, but this is actually a misnomer. Ghosts as most people think of them, i.e. the restless spirits of the dead, are only a small subset of the ectoplasmic population. There’s plenty of them that were never human to begin with,” higher up on the board, she wrote INFINITE REALMS, “Ecto-entities originate from a parallel dimension to ours, which is called the Infinite Realms by its inhabitants. Though my parents refer to it as the Ghost Zone, that name is woefully inadequate.” Jazz paused and glanced at him.
“Kinda like foreigners renaming places instead of using the one in the native language, gotcha,” Tim nodded. They had dealt with alternate realities before, so this wasn’t completely out of left field. He would go along with it for now. Jazz gave him a small smile.
“That’s right!” she said and tapped the whiteboard, “Now, the Infinite Realms and our dimension are closely interconnected, like two sides of the same coin. Large scale damage to one would cause similar devastation on the opposite side and vice versa,” she gave him a serious look.
“Which makes the hostile attitude of the paranormal research community rather worrying,” Tim mused, “If someone did something stupid the blowback would hit us too,” If he wasn’t trained to read people he would have missed the slight tightening around Jazz’s eyes.
“That’s the theory anyway. And it’s not like the US government ever dropped bombs on people just to see what would happen,” she chirped with false cheeriness.
There’s a story there, Tim thought, and not the kind you would find in a history book. What the hell has been going on?
“I’m guessing getting access to the Infinite Realms isn’t as easy as calling an Uber though,” he joked.
“You’d be surprised,” Jazz said wryly, receiving a raised eyebrow in response, “there are places where the barrier between worlds is naturally thin, allowing temporary rifts to form more easily, but they can pop up pretty much anywhere in the world. It’s what allows ecto-entities to enter our dimension. It’s also not unheard of for humans to stumble into the Realms either, though they’re lucky to return at all,” she twirled the marker between her fingers, “Time doesn’t seem to work the same way in the Realms as it does here. Just in case you ever come across one, make sure to leave through the same portal you entered. Otherwise you might find yourself stranded in the Middle Ages, or far in the future with everyone you know and love long dead.”
Tim had to fight to keep down a wince. The whole Bruce Lost In Time Debacle was still an emotional scar for the family, they really didn’t need a repeat performance.
“Duly noted.”
“Some entities are able to open and close rifts at will,” Jazz continued, unfazed by Tim’s dry tone, ”though that ability seems to be pretty rare. It probably requires an unusual level of power or incursions would be much more common.”
“That would explain the little disappearing trick Damian’s delivery guy pulled,” Jason murmured through Tim’s earpiece, “But does that mean we’re dealing with a fucking super ghost?”
Tim gave a thoughtful hum and drummed his fingers against the edge of the desk.
“Do you think humans could open a portal to the Realms?”
Jazz gave him a wry smile.
“You just summed up the bulk of my parents’ research over the last two decades. They managed to build a functioning portal about two years ago.”
Tim choked. Jason swore.
“What?! But that’s-! How is that not all over the news?!” Tim sputtered. Jazz just sighed.
“My parents have been ranting about ghosts since they were in college,” she said wearily, ”Most of the scientific community had written them off as crackpots years ago. It doesn’t help that large concentrations of ectoplasm generate some kind of interference that messes with recording equipment. Short of kidnapping the naysayers and shoving them bodily through the Fenton Ghost Portal it’s hard to prove anything. And thankfully even my parents aren’t that crazy,” she finished with an eye roll.
Tim buried his face in his hands. An interdimensional portal. What the fuck. He thought back on everything Jazz had told him so far.
“What’s ectoplasm?”
“You’ve been paying attention!” she smiled and added some notes to the whiteboard, “Ectoplasm is the basic building block of everything in the Infinite Realms, and by extension ecto-entities. Hence the name. It’s the equivalent of matter in our dimension; atoms, protons, quarks, etcetera. I’m not a physicist, so I can’t tell you exactly how it works, but that’s why ecto-entities are able to interact with our physical world in such fascinating ways. Flight, intangibility and invisibility are all common abilities for them.”
“Wow, what a fucking security nightmare. B is gonna freak,” Jason groused. Tim tuned him out to focus on Jazz’s continued explanation.
“My parents have been experimenting with using ectoplasm for power generation, but it’s proven extremely volatile. It seems like it’s affected by things like belief and emotion which is absolutely fascinating,” she said with a gleam in her eye, “not to mention its effects on organic tissue. Have you ever had your dinner come to life and try to eat you?”
Tim had a sudden, horrible suspicion.
“Can’t say that I have,” he managed to squeeze out past the lump in his throat, “Um… Jazz, what does ectoplasm look like?”
“Well that depends on what it’s been affected and shaped by but in its raw form it looks like a bright green, glowing liquid,” she tilted her head, “Why do you ask?”
Over the comms, Jason made a sound like someone had kicked him in the crotch.
“Lazarus water?! Is she talking about the fucking pits?!” he choked out.
Tim made a valiant effort to keep his own reaction in check.
“Oh, just wondering how I’ll recognize a ghost- er, ecto-entity when I see one,” he lied with fake casualness, “You mentioned something about powers?”
“Yes! All the entities we’ve encountered so far have exhibited powers which are common to their species, as well as additional powers that seem to depend on the individual core. I’ve theorized that powers develop as a response to stress related to either their Obsession or death trauma…” Jazz trailed off, “aaaaaand I’ve lost you.”
“Sorry.”
“It’s not your fault, I know I have a tendency to ramble,” she said sheepishly and considered the bullet points she had written so far, “Let me backtrack a bit. Not all ecto-entities are ghosts. There’s personifications of concepts, which I theorize are formed through the collective consciousness of living beings. They are entities which represent Hope or Justice or-”
“Time?” Tim interjected. Jazz gave him a calculating look.
“...sure. They are among the most powerful entities and have powers related to what they represent. I suspect they may have even been worshipped as gods at some point. You definitely wouldn’t want to mess with them,” at Tim’s nod, she continued, “There’s also the Neverborn, which are formed when ecto-entities choose to reproduce. They are entirely of the Infinite Realms, and thus were never ‘born’ into our world.”
“Ghosts can have children?” he said, surprised.
“Yes, although I’ve never been able to get the details on how it works. They don’t like to discuss it with outsiders. And considering they can look like dragons or disembodied floating eyeballs I’m not sure I’d want to know the exact mechanics,” she joked.
“I’m sure there’s plenty of people who’d disagree with you on that,” Tim muttered, then paused. “Wait, dragons?”
Jazz waved her hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about it. The point is that there’s way more to the other side than most people realize. There’s probably lots of things I’ve never even heard of. It’s quite exciting, really!”
Tim worried about it. A lot. Jason had also gone suspiciously quiet.
“So, ghosts are just the tip of the iceberg?” Tim hedged.
“Exactly. What sets them apart from other ecto-entities is that they are usually created upon the death of someone or something from our dimension, which gives them motivation to come back here,” Jazz added more notes and arrows to the whiteboard. “All entities have something they call a core; think of it as their central organ or brain. It houses their consciousness, and its nature affects what powers they get. There’s all kinds of elemental cores like fire and water, but also more esoteric ones like shadow or technology. An ecto-entity’s body is composed of ectoplasm and moulded by their core. Their physical form is malleable and heavily based on their self-perception. With experience they can change shape to suit their needs.”
Tim mentally added shapeshifting to the growing list of powers to worry about. So far it sounded a lot like a Martian’s.
“So can ecto-entities grow and age?”
“It depends. The Neverborn usually do, but a lot of ghosts have a bit of a Peter Pan thing going on where they don’t want to. They are often ‘stuck’ at the age they were when they died, physically and mentally. Though there’s always exceptions.”
Tim hummed thoughtfully. Something had been bothering him since ghosts had first entered the equation.
“Jazz, if ghosts don’t age or die, why aren’t they all over the place? Even if rifts are rare, shouldn’t there be hundreds of thousands of years worth of dead folks wandering the Earth?”
She gave him a sad smile.
“I never said ghosts couldn’t die, Adam,” she said carefully, ”And not everyone who dies comes back as a ghost. The ones who do typically have some unfinished business holding them back. Like an obsession they never got to fulfill, or a loved one they are watching over. Once they are done, they are free to move on to whatever Afterlife awaits them,” she sighed and crossed her arms, “It also takes a lot of energy for a ghost to do anything in our world. I think a majority of them never hit that level, or can’t keep it up for any significant amount of time. It’s also part of the reason my parents are so biased against them.”
“I’m not sure I follow.”
“Think about it. Most ecto-entities are just like regular people, going about their business and keeping their heads down. The ones who are both motivated to cross into our world, powerful enough to manifest and tend to make themselves known are the troublemakers. It would be like an alien looking at the population of Belle Reve and concluding that the majority of humans must be super villains! It’s sample bias.”
Tim bit his lip. This all sounded worryingly plausible, which would mean a literal world of trouble about to come down on their heads. Fuck, just what we needed.
“You mentioned that ghosts can die. I assume you don’t mean from old age, right?” he queried. Jazz looked at him wearily.
“You’d be right. If an ecto-entity’s core is too badly damaged, they will cease to exist,” she said cautiously, “It doesn’t help that ghosts tend to maintain a strength based social hierarchy and are fiercely protective of their territory. Ecto-entities usually have a lair within the Infinite Realms, and those who cross over to our dimension often establish a haunt to call their own. Any intruders would be met with violence,” she sighed and rubbed her forehead, “My parents have also been developing weapons to fight ghosts with… varying degrees of success. A lot of their tech runs on ectoplasm which makes it pretty temperamental.”
Seeing Jazz’s obvious discomfort with the topic, Tim decided to switch tracks.
“Is there any way to tell for sure if my brother came back as a ghost?”
Relieved at the change, Jazz made a see-sawing motion with her hand.
“Kind of? My parents tried for ages to build a ghost detector but they never got it to work quite right. Too much ambient ectoplasm in Amity I guess,” she shrugged as if that statement wasn’t extremely worrying. “You could always grab a ouija board or something and try asking. Just… don’t ask a ghost about their death. It’s a major trauma for most of them and there’s no better way to send them into a frothing rage. If they volunteer the information that’s one thing, but to ask about it is like the social faux pas among ecto-entities.”
Tim nodded and made a mental note to get his hands on some Fenton tech. He had a feeling it was going to be a long week for him.
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Jason and Tim didn’t speak until they were safely back in the car. Tim was mentally composing the report they would have to make to Bruce. He was not looking forward to his reaction.
“So,” Jason began with fake casualness, “an interdimensional portal in Illinois.”
“Yep.”
“Creatures made of fucking Lazarus Water.”
“Sounds like it.”
“And we still don’t know if our mystery meta is Bruce’s dead kid or not.”
Tim groaned.
“It all adds up though, doesn’t it? The camera glitching, the powers, the portal…”
“And that damned prophecy. The personification of Time, huh?”
Tim pinched his nose to stave off the growing headache. They contemplated the fucked up situation they had stumbled into in silence for a few minutes. Finally, Jason sighed and started up the engine.
“Rock-paper-scissors for who has to tell B?”
Part 6
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heartseungbin · 2 months
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yandere hyunjin: who manipulates his mommy using those oh-so-cute pleading eyes to install a tracking app so he can protect (stalk) you when you’re not with him.
yandere hyunjin: who looks coincidentally (purposely) ends up wherever his mommy is, taking secret photos of her and drawing her in his sketchbook to show her and make her proud.
yandere hyunjin: whose so excited to show you his art of you. Instantly dismissing your constant ask of where he got a reference of you in that moment from.
yandere hyunjin: who gets quite sad when you pay more attention to the theory (reality) of him stalking you instead of warmly taking in the fact that you’re his muse even when you’re away.
He drew you so beautifully, how could you not appreciate it? How dare you dismiss his hard work, his carefully crafted idea, his love. You must not love him anymore?
yandere hyunjin: who cries and guilt trips you, telling you how you’re such a “mean mommy” and how you don’t love and appreciate him anymore.
yandere hyunjin: who cries and cries, not stopping until you mention something about making it up to him. Instantly folding when you take him to bed and give him a good fucking causing more crying, this time out of pleasure.
yandere hyunjin: who turns into your loving baby after you clean him up and tell him you love his art. he feels his cheeks getting red and cuddles into you before nodding off, excited for the new day of tracking you ahead of him.
———————-
SORRY IF THIS IS TERRIBLE!! DONT post it it’s ass to you I don’t wanna be embarrassed 🙈 I’m not a really good writer nor can I 100% grasp the concept of yandere so sorry if it’s all over the place. I TRIED 🧁 btw I have bad grammar it’s late ☠️
WHAT THE FUCK. you like
stole the thoughts out my brain and left it empty i HAVE to write smth about this, this is so good nonnie!!
love me some yan hyunjin<33
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salamanderinspace · 2 months
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On Love
My best summary of the new Contrapoints video, if you're not a "watch a three hour video about Twilight" sort of person:
It's not about Twilight. It's about desire. The first chapter is the obligatory "yes there is a predatory dynamic in this, but let's talk about the role of fiction and fantasy, because it's fiction and not reality."
There is some discussing about what erotic love and desire truly is. Distinction between "yearning" (a lack for an abstract quality) and "craving" (which can be concretely satisfied.)
A really excellent dive into radical feminist theory about the predator-prey, hades-persephone dynamic that rules over romantic fiction. How the default heterosexual paradigm really does celebrate oppressive paradigms. Spoiler alert: it's not JUST fiction, there is a social context.
An argument that violence and death really are part of sexuality.
Mostly reframing the radical feminist theory in terms of a relationship to christianity as opposed to patriarchy.
An observation that women often consume this type of romance by identifying with the predator role because roles are inherently versatile and complex. Musings on the nature of masculinity and femininity as a ying/yang dichotomy.
There's a lot of research and nuance and jokes. A particularly good RHPS reference. Holding up a pair of scissors at an opportune moment. I don't think every single take is presented from the MOST based perspective but there was enough "this is what I've been saying" that I recommend the video overall as a source discussing fantasy and romantic love.
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ceranovis · 4 months
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So... the thing that IMMEDIATELY stood out to me in Fit's Dec 30th lore stream was the use of the nocom heatmap:
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Like this is the exact version if the heatmap Fit uses in his 2b2t vid about the nocom exploit (which is a wild story in itself, please watch it if you haven't before).
But some musing about how nocom might be connected to the lore (which quickly spiralled into some theories about Madagio, the 2 Cucuruchos, and the eggs):
Nocom was an exploit that tracked players in real time, predict their movements, and allowed remote spying on physical changes to locations. Madagio being drawn in by the remenant signal of that could just be a nod to their interest in finding ways to collect information and why they would find Fit suitable for the job.
HOWEVER-- Nocom was built on a Papermc vulnerability that meant it could also work on other multiplayer servers that run it. While nocom was patched on 2b2t, that doesn't mean other servers have patched the vulnerability & the source code has been released by the creators. So Madagio could have been interested in going to 2b2t to get ahold of nocom to use on Quesadilla island so it could uncover the "secrets [it] must have at all costs"-- their POV when tracking down fit shows entity lines so they clearly have some tracking ability/tool.
Maybe they got the nocom code, but found they couldn't use it yet. It's been mentioned before that Fit tried hack clients on QSMP but they didn't work, and exploits get fixed pretty quickly to keep the server stable. Madagio said the only way onto thr island at the time was the Federation train-- presumably the Federation had thing heavily locked down and Madagio wouldn't be able to enter or run any sort of exploit.
2b2t's nocom was made possible because of social engineering-- Madagio could have hired Fit to collect information so it could find a way to successfully manipulate holes into the Federation's security and get onto the island/run nocom.
In the Dec 21st QSMP Info stream, Dark Cucurucho seems to be looking for something the Federation has hidden, and demands Cucurucho tell him where it is. Maybe Madagio is looking for the same thing? Nocom would theoretically allow someone to find hidden facilities/people anywhere on the server.
Where Dark Cucurucho seems tied to the Nether, and Cucurucho the overworld, its becomes pretty notable that Madagio has Fit go through a giant Ender portal.
Madagio being tied to the End also has some interesting implications if you think about the (ender?) dragon that supposedly inhabited the island & created the eggs. While the federation claimed the dragon left when the wall was blown up, there's no actual evidence it was there at the time. Perhaps Madagio is the dragon.
Fans seem to be interpretting the "i am a god" anagram of Madagio literally, which could fit with the ender dragon being a sort of godly being presiding over the End dimension.
BUT it may not be a literal dragon-- the eggs seem to be some sort of science experiements, so what if the anagram is a reference to a scientist playing god?
Maybe Madagio literally created the eggs from End-realm-DNA or something before fleeing/being kicked off Quesadilla, and the dragon story is just what the Federation made up to explain the eggs without having to bring up Madagio.
Maybe the experiements that led to the eggs were about opening up inter-server travel? Madagio said whatever made it leave Quesadilla also gave it server-hopping powers (powers which seems similar in reach to the Federation's ability to pull people to the island/send workers to other places).
The Federation can block interdimensional travel too-- we saw that with the Nether, which the residents eventually broke through with the train bug, implying hacks/bugs are needed to bypass Federation security.
Dark Cucurucho told Forever it wanted to leave, desired freedom, and that the Federation didn't want it to have that. Maybe the thing Dark is looking for is the thing that Madagio created that allows for interdimensional travel, which the Federation stole.
I think the only non-Federation example of cross-server travel we've seen is with the Watcher/Purgatory, but it may have actually been Dark Cucurucho who enabled that, not the Watcher. Aside from Dark being the one to give the residents their tickets to Purgatory via the dice game, Cucurucho claimed the recent security vulnerabilities were due to Dark, so maybe Dark found an exploit that allowed for limited interdimenisonal travel-- if it's tied to the creation of eggs somehow, maybe that's why there were 3 new eggs found on Egg Island?
The Unknown Egg diary Cellbit found could potentially be connected to Dark Cucurucho leaving & making contact with the Watcher prior to the purgatory arc, given the timing (about a month after the residents broke open the Nether, which may have created a door for Dark to get to the overworld despite Federation security and set things in motion). Maybe Cucurucho sent Cellbit to investigate because it suspected Dark was up to something? Cellbit assumed the egg's fate was the Federation's doing, but why would they send him to investigate it then? Maybe it was Dark making a cheap immitation of the Federation adoption center so it could travel, and then abandoning the egg once it had what it wanted?
Cucurucho also said that Dark didn't understand the potential of the eggs, which could explain why Dark would only be able to achieve limited travel.
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My Muse
~content warning: slightly nsfw~
Mizu x artist!reader
Authors note: I am not a writer so I apologize for any mistakes! Enjoy!
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"Somethings' off...I can feel it..." you say as you squint at the canvas before you. Wether its the shape of the head or the length of the torso, you could TELL something was off. "Two years of art school and yet I still can't seem to get body proportions right. Ugh, maybe I should just find a different career path-"
You hear a knock on the studio door "Y/N? You in there? I made us some tea, can I come in?" you hear the voice of your partner, Mizu, behind the door. "Oh! Yes! Come in!" You exclaim. Upon your approval she comes in with two cups of tea and sets them both at the break table nearby. Deciding to take a break, you get up from the frustrating sketch before you to spend some much needed time with Mizu.
"Hows the art going? What are you working on?" She asks curiously. Mizu has always loved your art, and though she was a woman of few words, you could feel her admiration and respect coming off of her as she gazed fondly at the paintings made by your hand.
"I feel like if I try to fix it any longer I'm going to jump off a bridge" you sigh, half joking at this point. "Ouch, that bad?" She raises an eyebrow as her eyes scan the canvas. "It looks a little off but its not bad. Perhaps you should do some model studies. Who knows, maybe seeing the body up close will help you figure out what you're missing."  The idea sounds good in theory, but theres a problem with it "Where would I find someone willing to strip down and let me stare at them for hours while I draw them? I don't really have the cash to pay someone for it." You ask her earnestly.
"Well..." she contemplated "I could be your model, if you want." Your eyes widen at the thought, it makes sense, and its not like you haven't seen her naked before, but you feel a blush crawling up your cheeks regardless. "A-are you sure you're comfortable with that?" "Absolutely sure, I'm comfortable with it if you are. We can start after we finish the tea" She says, her ice blue eyes seemingly brightening up with excitement.
A brief moment later, and Mizu stands before you, a robe being the only thing covering her up. "I'm ready. Where should I stand?" She asks you. "Oh, just go sit on the lounge right here, I want to try capturing you in a leasurely pose." You say. "Just lay back with your back proped up on the arm of the lounge, have one knee bent, and your arm resting on the bent knee. Look off to the side as well." she nods and gets into position as you ready your pencil. "Ready?" You ask, "Ready."
You begin sketching out her figure, glancing over at her every now and then for reference. Every curve, every scar, every fold of her body carefully replicated onto your canvas. From her slender yet defined arms to her lean torso and model-eque long legs. "She's so beautiful..." you think to yourself. You sketch more. Her breasts, her gorgeously long dark brown hair, her breathtaking blue eyes-
You notice her glancing at you, flinching away your daydream as you hastily hide your burning red face behind the canvas. You hear a soft chuckle emit from her as she looks away, a warm smile fixed to her face and a light blush forming. The silence in the air that followed was not a suffocating one, but one that carried a sense of quiet intimacy between two lovers. Warm, soft, and inviting. You feel yourself beginning to relax as you continue to sketch the beautiful woman in front of you.
You finish your sketch up and exhale deeply "Its done! It came out so well! Would you like to see?" You ask her excitedly as she rises from the lounge and reaches for her robe. "Hell yeah I would." She replied. As she scanned over the canvas, her eyes widened with awe. "Its...amazing love, is this how you see me?" She asked "Of course!" You tell her "You're the most beautiful and amazing partner in the whole world, you could say you're my muse..." she looks away bashfully, a shy but happy hum coming out as a response. You gently turn her head to face you a plant a loving, soft kiss on her lips, one which she reciprocates in kind. "Thank you Mizu, you've been a great help. I love you." She beams at those 2 magic words "I love you too, Y/N"
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Lover is a Day...
Gojo Satoru x Reader x Geto Suguru
The Cursed Trio | Softcore
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**¡Halloween, tricotrí! ¡Dame chavos, no maní! ¡No te escondas que te vi, en la casa de Pepín!
** 09/20, 2:18 p.m. - Gege, when I fucking catch you... there are no spoilers in this episode btw
**09/20, 3:18 p.m. - I hope you're bullet proof, because once you make the parallels, this bout to h u r t
...
Yaga had a knack for playing the role of a silent observer, that is, when he wasn't giving your group an earful (specifically your lot) for indulging in the most ludicrous antics right in his classroom.
I swear I wrote about the carvings in a previous episode but idk which and on whose desk but it is what it is
Who could forget the time he went ballistic because you lot thought it'd be genius to carve your names into the wooden surface of your desk?
(Side Note: You were the one behind that plan, with Gojo egging on Suguru to join in. Suguru had been adamant on not doing it, but funnily enough, he was the first to carve his name on the wood.)
(Add-On: Ieiri was the one who had the blade, a simple scalpel she always seemed to have on hand. Strangely, she carried it with her wherever she went. When boredom struck, she'd use it to carefully trim the ends of her hair.)
Honestly, for someone who had a strong distaste for vandalism, Yaga surprisingly couldn't find it in his heart to sand those carvings away.
(Side Note: While tidying up one of the campus storage rooms, Maki stumbled upon your desk from your first year. It had been concealed beneath layers of dust and a hint of mildew. Curiosity piqued, she couldn't resist taking a closer look, and there, amidst the neglect, she discovered two unfamiliar names, etched alongside Gojo's. She never mentioned it to anyone, but the curiosity gnawed at her. Still, she knew better than to pry into the Six-Eye user's business.)
Yaga swore he didn't play favorites, but if you pressed him, he might just confess to having a soft spot for either you or Ieiri (although, to be honest, it leaned more toward you, especially since you never missed a Friday for knitting lessons). When it came to Ieiri, well, their interactions were usually filled with her nonchalant and uncaring attitude, making it a bit tough for Yaga to really bond with her.
Yaga, as the implications suggest, regarded you as kin, perhaps even more dearly than blood. This sentiment deepened upon discovering the harrowing circumstances of your arrival, the cruel treatment you endured at the hands of the elders—treatment he loathed to the core. Yet, despite this fierce indignation, he was trapped in a web of helplessness. He lacked the political clout and cursed energy prowess to challenge the elders, not for now, at least.
So, all he could do was try to make your time at Jujutsu High a bit more bearable. And let me tell you, that wasn't easy when you had to deal with an insufferable tampon and that crafty schemer.
However
With you around, Yaga felt a certain calmness settling among your trio. It seemed his earlier assumptions about the two boys were spot on.
Gojo, usually the master of comical antics, seemed to don a more serious demeanor when you or Suguru were around. Gone was the need to perform, as you often referred to it during your knitting lessons.
(Side Note: Your theory was that Gojo's act served two purposes. Firstly, it was his way of appearing more human than the god-like entity everyone saw him as. Secondly, you thought it was his subconscious attempt to relate to humans. Gojo had always been seen as incredibly arrogant, having lived a life where he was hailed as a god. But even gods, you mused, might grow tired of their divine status. Perhaps, occasionally, they wished to experience life from the perspective of an ordinary "ant.")
(Add-On: You shared this theory with Yaga during your 24th knitting lesson. By that point, you had grown comfortable enough to openly share your thoughts with him. You tended to be more talkative, showing a vulnerability that made Yaga want to protect you like the child you still were.)
Suguru projected an image of calm and composure, but Yaga could discern the undercurrent of anxiety beneath the surface. His leg would bounce with the weight of silent worries, and his eyes would dart from clock to board, back to the clock, to you and Gojo, and finally outside. It was a restless ritual, but the moment either Gojo or you uttered a word, whether directed at him or not, his demeanor would soften. His leg would cease its nervous dance, his shoulders relaxed, and the lines around his eyes would ease.
Ieiri, on the other hand, remained something of an enigma. She often appeared as a two-dimensional character, lacking clear purpose or direction. Her nonchalant, carefree attitude occasionally irked Yaga. However, he couldn't help but notice the subtle looks she cast your way. The faint smile that tugged at her lips when you playfully insulted Gojo for the simplest of actions. Her golden-brown eyes, fixed on the faint glow of your own eyes whenever you practiced your cursed technique in the training fields; it seemed she could hardly tear her gaze away from you.
Love could be so wicked at times
Especially in the Jujutsu world
As a teacher, Yaga was an astute observer. It was his duty to decipher each of your unique behaviors, allowing him to tailor his teaching methods to suit your individual needs. But that also meant, that he'd be forced to watch both your highs and your downs.
Gojo's smile, once a radiant beacon, gradually dimmed as your interactions increasingly revolved around Suguru. In contrast, Suguru seemed to lean on you for various things ---. he always kept a slight distance, just five steps behind, the once-prominent dark bags beneath his eyes now softened. It was as though his very gaze held you in existence, fearing that breaking eye contact might make you fade away.
You, on the other hand, avoided meeting Gojo's eyes, even refraining from playfully snatching his glasses, all to evade his probing scrutiny. A profound guilt welled within, but you maintained a cheerful façade when you looked up at the tall boy, your eyes closed in a half-smile.
Ieiri trailed behind the trio, her lips gracing a gentle yet melancholic smile, her ember eyes holding a distant quality as she observed the three of you. A flush colored her cheeks when you teased her with a sly grin, the playful gesture diverting her attention from any pressing questions.
He observed it all, sometimes wishing he could turn a blind eye to the subtle shifts in your group's dynamics. There were moments when he yearned for the courage to confront his students, but he pondered whether that would truly be the wisest course of action.
But dwelling on such thoughts had to wait, for now, he charged headlong into a horde of high-grade curses. Halloween, in his personal opinion, was among the most dreaded days of the year.
The streets came alive with a riot of Halloween decorations. Every lamppost was adorned with eerie cobwebs, and pumpkins with wicked grins lined the sidewalks. People roamed about, their faces concealed behind an assortment of masks and whimsical costumes, some posing for pictures while others sought to startle unsuspecting passersby with their ghoulish get-ups.
Above, the muffled thump of music from nearby nightclubs resonated through the air, intermingling with the boisterous chatter and sporadic shrieks of delight from the revelers below. The city had transformed into a carnival of the supernatural --- he despised it.
In an ironic twist, it felt like a taunt. Halloween, a night of heightened fear, saw curses rise to a crescendo of malevolence. These were no ordinary phantoms; they were vicious, craving blood and terror. Yet, the unassuming non-sorcerer folk continued to revel, blissfully ignorant of the holiday's perilous essence.
It stood as a paradox, a poignant reminder of the sacrifices made by his colleagues and students. Their valor had shielded these unsuspecting celebrants from the brink of a nightmarish fate.
The rational corner of his mind comprehended that they couldn't be blamed for their ignorance. This veil of secrecy was a necessity; envision the chaos if the ordinary populace were to uncover the truth. The mere panic could breathe fresh vitality into curses, a catastrophe waiting to unfold.
Yet, the acrid part, the facet he labored diligently to conceal, was far from understanding. It harbored a bitterness, an ever-present sting. Why had his students chosen the path of potential sacrifice for those who appeared indifferent, oblivious even?
Nevertheless, there was something oddly cathartic about exorcising scores of curses, with no discernible bounds to the might of his technique.
Still, a nagging thought persisted in the recesses of his mind, one that refused to be ignored — how were you and the rest of the group faring?
You were meant to be a team, a rare instance where the elders had paired you with Gojo and Suguru. Missions with just the three of you were almost unheard of, and Yaga had always been curious about the reason behind it. But every time he tried to bring it up, usually when he passed you some yarn, you'd get all defensive and tell him to hush before the elders caught wind of his questions.
(Side Note: I'm sure you're all wondering where everyone else is, so here's a quick update. The trio is holding down the fort in Shibuya with Yaga. Nanami and Yu have been dispatched near Kyoto, working alongside the students from Kyoto Jujutsu Tech. Meanwhile, Ieiri is back on campus, safe and sound, mentally preparing herself for the impending chaos when everyone returns, and she has to mend their wounds.)
(Add-On: Ieiri's usual smoke breaks lack the same charm without you there to light them up. It's just not quite the same.)
The memory of those moments still stung.
What exactly were you scared of? Because something must've scared you enough to deny him that piece of information, especially with how close the two of you have gotten.
(Side Note: Yaga was there to see the trio off. Surprisingly, you allowed him to pat your head, a simple but genuine gesture that warmed his heart. A grin threatened to spread across his face, but it was quickly overshadowed by Gojo's playful banter and Suguru's quiet laughter as they teased Yaga about wanting to be a father or something.)
(Add-On: You would never admit it, but you, too, felt the subtle warmth Yaga had alluded to. You watched his soul transition from its usual darkish purple to a fleeting, light orange glow, and it left you with an inexplicable sense of unease.)
Perched atop a towering skyscraper, Yaga allowed himself a stolen moment to survey the world below. In this rare interlude, a semblance of composure washed over him.
Since your arrival, not necessarily your fault alone, but a persistent unease had gnawed at him, weaving dread into the very sinews of his muscles and the calcium ions within his bones.
From this vantage point, he observed, as he always did.
On your side
There was an unsettling aura about a frowning Gojo, a sensation that gnawed at the core of things. It felt out of place, like a discordant note in an otherwise harmonious melody. A stoic facade, Suguru mused, would have been more fitting. Even tears, a rarity that would require an earth-shattering trauma, seemed a lesser evil than the frown that now etched itself upon Gojo's lips.
Was it Suguru's doing? Did his actions somehow bring this perpetual frown to Gojo's face? The questions swirled within him like a tempest, an unceasing storm of uncertainty.
"You know the truth," a voice echoed in the recesses of his mind, resonating with a cold and cutting edge that made him flinch. It was his voice, yet not his own.
He barely had time to complete his internal inquiry when his trajectory carried him toward an impending collision with the wall. That is, it would have if not for the interlocking web of chains, forming an impenetrable barrier that spared him from a potentially incapacitating crash.
Despite the quick save, Suguru swore under his breath as he felt a light pain blooming at his waist.
Nonetheless
Suguru couldn't help but offer a knowing smile as he redirected his gaze skyward. Above him, you soared, gracefully navigating from one chain to the next. The buildings became your towering trees, and the streets transformed into your verdant jungle.
Ugh, comparing you to Tarzan leaves a bad taste on my tongue for some reason
You didn't need words; he instantly grasped the meaning in your gaze. A gentle smile blossomed upon his lips, and he assured, "I'm fine."
With a stiff nod in response, you swiftly redirected your attention to a Grade-1 curse. Your chains sliced through it like needles through fabric, siphoning its cursed energy to unleash a cascade of attacks on surrounding curses.
But where was Gojo? The sound of shattering glass served as his only warning. Shards lightly scored his uniform and skin. Suguru's eyes narrowed in irritation and a hint of anger as he observed Gojo's stoic figure striding through the wreckage, seemingly unfazed by the chaos that surrounded him.
Tiny tears marred Suguru's cheeks as his uniform bore the brunt of the Force, revealing glimpses of skin through the delicate fabric wounds. Strangely, not a solitary drop of blood stained the scene.
He couldn't restrain his frustration, hurling curses at Gojo with palpable anger. "Oi, Satoru! Are you out of your fucking mind? You could've ended me right there!"
In response, Gojo couldn't resist an eye-roll. "Nah, you really wouldn't have."
Suguru's eye twitched at the albino's careless words, spine straight and shoulder stuff as he eyed the man before him. Meanwhile, Gojo looked absolutely bored out of his mind as he nonchalantly cleaned out his ear.
"Fucking bastard." "If you're so irked by me, come get me, asshole "
And so, the pissing match began once again.
Lately, their little 'spats' had escalated into something far more heated. What once was a light-hearted banter and a contest of egos had taken a darker turn about a week ago. The laughter that usually followed their bouts was now replaced by an uncomfortable tension.
And you were fully aware of the reasons behind this shift. But would you intervene? Well, that's still up for debate.
Just as the situation seemed on the verge of boiling over, your phone chimed with a familiar ringtone. A smile grazed your lips as you greeted the caller with a lightness in your voice.
"Everything going well on your end, Kento? Is Yu doing fine?"
As you spoke, you couldn't help but notice a sneaky curse trying to creep up on Gojo. It's tendrils aiming for his rights side. With a casual flick of your wrist, your chains skewered the unwelcome visitor. The abrupt action prompted Gojo to cast an inscrutable look your way, sending a shiver down your spine.
He's still hanging in there, so I guess he's doing alright." In the background, another voice piped up, "Is that who I think it is? Give 'em a shout from me!" You couldn't help but chuckle as Kento let out a melodramatic sigh, "You heard?"
You replied, "Yep. Tell him I said hi back. And pass along the same for Mei-Mei and Utahime."
Kento quipped, "You're pushing your luck."
With a casual flick of your wrist, you dispatched yet another mess of foul goo.
"Why the call?" you asked. "...No reason," came Kento's mysterious reply. You grinned, "Ah, I see."
(Side Note: In the current scene, Yu found himself in a comically dire situation. A curse had him pinned down, and he flailed his arms around, calling out for Mei Mei's assistance. Mei Mei, thoroughly entertained by this display, couldn't help but find Yu's predicament rather endearing. She watched, amused, though she refrained from helping him until Utahime, embroiled in her own battle against two curses, shouted at Mei-Mei to come to Yu's aid.)
(Add-On: Utahime was seriously on edge; this year's Halloween curses were exceptionally gruesome. Just catching sight of them was enough to rattle her nerves. She had half a mind to go say 'fuck it' and haul ass screaming like a little bitch. No judgement here cuz same)
Suddenly, you sensed a stray piece of debris hurtling toward your head. In a swift motion, your chains sprang to life, obliterating it before it could reach you. You shot an exasperated glance at Suguru and Gojo, who seemed engrossed in their peculiar spar—basically, just tossing things at each other.
Your patience snapped, and you hollered at them to cease their antics and refocus on the mission. Before they could react, your chains coiled around them, effectively immobilizing the duo.
Suguru relented with a pout, while Gojo couldn't resist a snarky comment. "Always knew you were kinky."
Your response triggered Kento's voice blasting through the phone in a tirade against Gojo's behavior, which only fueled Gojo's maniacal laughter.
(Side Note: Gojo didn't particularly want to laugh, but it seemed like an obligatory performance at this point.)
With an eye-roll, you shifted your attention back to the call. "We're almost done here, so no worries."
"Alright, stay safe. Don't trust those dumbasses for anything," Kento admonished before ending the call, leaving you quietly chuckling.
The tension was as palpable as ever, making the mission feel like walking on eggshells. You glanced at Gojo and Suguru, both now reluctantly cooperating. What started as a straightforward task had somehow morphed into a convoluted dance of egos.
As you ventured further into the cursed zone, the silence weighed heavily on the trio. Gojo's trademark smirk, usually as constant as the North Star, had transformed into a stern expression, his gaze fixated on the distance. Meanwhile, Suguru's fists were clenched, jaw locked tight.
Shit
Once upon a time, these two had been inseparable, but now it was like watching two tectonic plates slowly drift apart.
As you ventured deeper into the cursed alleyway, the oppressive darkness seemed to swallow you whole. The narrow passageway twisted and turned, like a labyrinth designed by, uh, by ---- oh, fuck it. You don't have time to think about it as you use your technique to identify the more hidden curses.
You cursed under your breath as bits of your clothing became stained by the grime of the walls. Filthy, damp walls pressed in from both sides, making it feel like there was no way out. Absolutely fucking disgusting.
Gojo led the way, his steps echoing off the grimy pavement as he followed the faint trail of minor curses. Suguru trailed behind, his frustration simmering beneath the surface.
The darkness was thick, and the tension among your trio hung heavy in the air. It felt like a pressure cooker, waiting to explode at any moment. The distant cries of curses only added to the eerie fucked up atmosphere.
Gojo moved with an effortless grace, his sapphire eyes ablaze with cursed energy as he obliterated curses left and right. His movements were fluid, almost elegant, as he dispatched each threat with swift precision.
On the other hand, Suguru was growing increasingly agitated. He watched the curses he could've consumed vanish into wisps of nothingness with each sweep of Gojo's hand. His frustration simmered beneath his skin, boiling over into anger.
"Dammit, Satoru," Suguru glared, voice laced with annoyance. "I could've used some of those."
Gojo barely spared him a glance, his focus unwavering. "Too bad, so sad. You've got plenty in your arsenal already, Suguru. Don't get greedy."
Cue that angry mark thing on Suguru's forehead
You couldn't help but sigh internally, "I swear --- it's like a fucking k-drama breakup or something. Unbelievable."
But this was your fault
No, this is just things that have been simmering for a while finally boiling over.
And just what exactly prompted this...'simmering of feelings'?
...check your fucking tone and fix that attitude of yours.
Or what? You'll kill me. Please, I'd like to see you try.
Fuck. You.
Also...
What?
Watch out, hehe.
(Side Note: When stressed, you curse. A lot. )
Suddenly, an especially powerful curse materialized, catching you off guard. It lunged at you, the impact sending you crashing into the nearby shop's window. The glass shattered like your composure, and blood painted the scene.
Time seemed to slow to a crawl as you were hurled through the air and into the glass window. The shards of glass seemed to glisten in a surreal dance of glimmers and reflections, and for a brief moment, the shattered glass created a fragmented tapestry of the scene, as if you were glimpsing reality through a shattered mirror.
Blue rose petals descended gracefully, an ethereal contrast to the crimson stains on your battered form. They tumbled from an unseen sky, their delicate dance casting an otherworldly beauty over the grim tableau.
Upon collision with the glass, it shattered into a symphony of discordant notes, the cacophony ringing in your ears. The shards dug into your flesh, tearing at your clothes, and for a suspended moment, the world seemed crystallized in chaos.
Lying there, gasping for air and stinging with pain, you took in the surreal sight of the blue rose petals falling around you. In the corners of your quickly fading vision, you saw flower pots and greenery --- it felt like you were back in Yu's dorm room. Safe and warm.
Oh, it's a flower shop.
First off, why the fuck is there a flower shop at the end of some random creepy ass alleyway?
Second off, why was it so quiet?
The eerie silence settled like a heavy fog, muffling the once-chaotic sounds of curses. You furrowed your brow, puzzled by their sudden disappearance. Where had they—
In a sudden and almost comically abrupt fashion, the souls of Suguru and Gojo popped into your field of vision. It was as if they had teleported into view, their ghostly forms shimmering with an otherworldly light.
You couldn't help but blink in surprise, their appearance catching you off guard amidst the strange stillness of the cursed zone.
"Fucking hell," you swore under your breath as you felt one of the two gently pick up your head before leveling it on a soft warm --- thighs. Bony ones at that so it had to be Gojo.
(Side Note: You couldn't help but instinctively reach out to palm the limb, the blood seeping from your scraped hands staining Gojo's pants.)
Suguru dropped to his knees beside you, his face etched with deep concern, his eyes darting anxiously over your wounds. He hovered his hands over the injuries, torn between wanting to help and the uncertainty of what to do next. The injuries weren't life-threatening, but they were far from insignificant.
"Hey, are you okay?" Suguru's voice quivered with genuine worry as he assessed the damage. "Damn it, you're bleeding..." Panic flickered across his features as he glanced at the blood, his usually composed demeanor giving way to concern.
His soul was crying
Gojo remained uncharacteristically silent, his lips parting only to remove his glasses. His gaze locked onto your injured face, and in that fleeting moment when your eyes met, it was a meeting of pearlescent and iridescent. The connection would've been near-perfect if it weren't for...
Before the thought could fully form, Gojo finally broke his silence. His expression turned grave, and he spoke in a low, almost breathless tone, "Use your chains on me."
You couldn't help but snort with amusement, even as a wince of pain crossed your face. "Now, who's the kinky one," you quipped, your voice laced with playful sarcasm.
If you weren't injured, Gojo might have smacked the shit out if you, but in this situation, he opted for a sharp pinch on your arm until you acquiesced.
Drawing cursed energy from people was always a unique experience, but what intrigued you even more was the distinctiveness of each person's energy.
Suguru's had a bittersweet undertone, much like his tea, while Gojo's... Well, perhaps it was his cursed technique, but it felt almost exhilarating. Sweet, like his insatiable sweet tooth, and undeniably stimulating.
Your blood raced with adrenaline, and you couldn't help but savor the taste of Gojo's energy. It was strangely addictive, and you found yourself wanting more, even as you noticed the tremble in his soul.
Separating your chains from their souls, a shiver of relief coursed through your body as most of your injuries miraculously began to heal. With a soft hum of gratitude, you muttered a quiet thank you under your breath. With Suguru and Gojo's assistance, you managed to sit up on the pile of debris.
"Are you guys okay?" you inquired, concern lacing your words.
Suguru, still clearly shaken by the events, snapped, "You almost die, and you ask US if we're okay?" He couldn't hide his worry, despite his gruff tone.
You let out a playful pout as you leaned into the warmth of Gojo's hands, tilting your head back like a whiny child. "Well, fuck you too, Suguru." "Don't you curse at me, you little-"
As you and Suguru continued your bickering, Gojo calmly brought you closer, positioning you against his body and enveloping your waist with his arms. His chin rested on your shoulder, and he let out a quiet exhale that felt like a sigh of relief.
(Side Note: The exhale was so strong that it lightly pulled on your moon earring. The very one Gojo gifted you.)
You froze at the unexpected closeness, momentarily taken aback, while Suguru observed in silence, a pensive expression clouding his face.
One beat
"You two really pissed me off, ya know?" Gojo's words carried an unusual weight, and both you and Suguru had never heard him sound so sullen. It wasn't meekness; Gojo could never be meek or weak, but his voice seemed, in that moment, small.
Though you couldn't see his face, you could sense the tremor in his voice, and it sent a chill down your spine.
Two beats
Both Suguru and you dared not to speak as Gojo continued to talk, his grip on you tightening ever so slightly as he spoke. It was as if he had to physically restrain himself from retreating into his usual emotional barriers.
"You disappear for a few days, and suddenly, you're both different. And then, it's like I don't even exist. You made me feel..."
Three beats
"Unwanted? Jealous? Neglected?" You interjected softly, your voice tinged with understanding. Gojo pinched your side, causing you to wince, and earning a sharp glare from Suguru. "Don't fucking psychoanalyze me."
"Sorry," you murmured, sensing the tension in his voice.
Four beats
Gojo tightened his hold on you, his voice muffled against your shoulder, "I didn't know what to do. I hate not knowing what to do."
Suguru leaned against the wall, seemingly lost in thought. "Typical Satoru. Always the 'strongest' but falls apart when emotions come into play." You clenched your jaw.
Five beats
"Suguru. Not now." You swore you saw a flicker of a satisfied smirk on the albino's face as you scolded said male. "Gojo, stop smirking." Now it was Suguru's turn to smirk.
(Side Note: Gojo was so ridiculously satisfied.)
From the corner of your eye, you spotted something amidst the rubble. Leaning over to pick it up, a soft chuckle escaped your lips as you realized it was a nondescript bottle of sake.
Nothing too distinctive, just an ordinary bottle of sake.
Balancing it in your hand, you inhaled the aroma as you uncorked it. A soft sigh escaped, and a small smile graced your face.
As you took a cautious sip from the bottle, you were pleasantly surprised by its smooth and mellow flavor. The warmth of the sake spread through you --- a nice contrast to the cold air of Japan.
"Are you serious right now?" Suguru's voice resonated through the eerie silence of the ravaged flower shop. With a shrug, you tossed the bottle to Gojo.
Gojo grimaced, "You're seriously gross right now. Who knows where that's been?"
You rolled your eyes at his comment, "Well, either drink it and unwind or ditch it to relieve some stress."
He stared down at you for a good three minutes, his expression still contorted, before finally grunting and taking a sip. The effect was nearly instantaneous as the young Six-Eye User's tense shoulders relaxed.
Six beats
The severity in his gaze softened as he turned his attention to Suguru, who wore a similarly displeased expression.
With the bottle held in his large hands, Gojo seemed poised to throw it at the raven-haired man, but at the eleventh hour, he offered it instead. Their fingers brushed for a fleeting heartbeat as Suguru savored a modest sip.
A sigh escaped his lips as he let the alcohol slide down his throat, his shoulders dropping in a similar manner like Gojo as you silently stayed within the albino's arms.
A hush blossomed among the three of you, your gazes fixed on various points, as if deliberately avoiding eye contact with each other.
Yet, even in that unspoken silence, it seemed as if words were superfluous. Simply being present in that moment, basking in each other's auras and existence, sufficed to transmit everyone's sentiments.
Amidst the remnants of the flower shop, with broken petals strewn about like the memories of a fading dream, a subtle breeze whispered its way through the shattered windows, carrying the scent of blossoms that once danced in vibrant hues. And a soft, distant chirping of birds carried through the broken windows --- ah, it was morning already.
Suguru, his grip on the sake bottle loosening, glanced around at the desolation surrounding you. His eyes, once filled with annoyance, now held a touch of melancholy.
Suguru's gaze finally shifted, meeting Gojo's eyes for the briefest of moments. A flicker of understanding passed between them, a silent acknowledgment of...something.
As if by an unspoken agreement, Gojo lifted the bottle once more, offering it to Suguru. With a nod of appreciation, Suguru accepted, their bond acknowledged in this simple act.
You couldn't help but make an undignified noise as you tried to reach for the bottle, "Oi! Don't drink it all, I want some too!"
With a playful smirk, Gojo leaned slightly away from Suguru, extending the bottle above you, just out of your reach. "Oh, you want some too?" he teased, a hint of amusement in his voice.
Suguru joined in with a sly grin, "You know, sharing is caring."
You responded with an exasperated sigh, your attempt to grab the bottle foiled by Gojo's playful maneuvering. "Alright, alright, you guys win. Just pass it over here before I start feeling left out." Ironic.
Gojo and Suguru persisted in their playful teasing, much to your chagrin, as you struggled within Gojo's grasp to lower his arm, desperately attempting to reach the bottle he held aloft. Suguru's laughter echoed through the room, while Gojo cackled with the exuberance of a madman.
From his vantage point, Yaga couldn't suppress a chuckle as he witnessed the scene unfold. It warmed his heart to see the tension between the three of you dissipate—perhaps not entirely, but enough that he believed everyone would experience a sense of relief come the next school day.
Seven beats
...
Song Inspo: Ray Laurél - CHARLES JEFFREY
(A/N): Hopefully, one day I'll see TCT on a 'JJK Tumblr fanfic recommendations' TikTok vid --- the moment people recommend this to others on that fucking app, that's when I know I'm doing a good job 💀
Valeria Garza has a chokehold on me rn. Ooo, should I write for CoD? It'd be interesting deciphering their personalities considering the shit load of trauma they all got going on.
09/20 - In the middle of writing this, a kitten sucked into my yard and I have dogs. I had to pry the poor thing out of their mouths (it's alive! Ran off tho). Unfortunately, the kitten did bite me. So I'm not writing this with an injured hand and a prayer that I don't have an infection. 🥹
09/21 - Just as I was finishing up, I received an e-mail from the Head of my Bachelor's Department saying that my current classes were not valid for my degree and that I'd have to re-enroll. I spent a whole 15 minutes bawling my eyes out, crying to mami on the phone before the mother fuckers had the nerve to tell me it was an error and I'm fine.
09/23 - it's like 12am rn and the most horrible thing happened and ugh, I could not stop bawling my eyes out and I was bleeding everywhere. I'm fine now but like damn bro.
Originally:
This episode was supposed to be published on September 20 due to, uh, reasons. (JJK 236 spoilers parallel) However, shit happened and I didn't publish it in time. My bad bros, hoes, and non-binaries bitches.
Originally, I had planned to kick off this episode from Suguru's or someone else's perspective – anyone but Yaga's. But, at the last second, I realized we needed a bit more Yaga content. Plus, it'd be intriguing to delve into his viewpoint regarding the cursed trio's dynamics and all that jazz.
"...gentle yet melancholic smile," was actually supposed to just be a 'gentle small smile.' This is because Ieiri was just happy to be there within the boundaries of your presence. But I changed it because, when written this way, it just confirms that Ieiri knows her status in the group. As in, she doesn't have an actual status.
"...Nah, you really wouldn't have." Was actually, "Oh come on, Suguru. You know I wouldn't go that far."
The plan for this episode was to kick off near a flower shop, but fate had other ideas. It concluded right at a flower shop instead.
"The narrow passageway twisted and turned, like a labyrinth designed by, uh, by ---- oh, fuck it." This was actually supposed to reference the ancient King of Curses but I couldn't figure how to do it, so I genuinely said fuck it.
"Don't fucking psychoanalyze me," was supposed to be, "So you knew yet you did nothing?" This is to imply your avoidance of confrontations. Maybe foreshadowing too.
Originally, you were going to apologize to Gojo for everything but then, as an author, I realized that the cursed trio are a bunch of teenagers put in the riskiest of situations with severe vulnerability problems and communication issues, hence the silence and the avoidance of eye contact.
This switch to Yaga as the main POV in this episode kind of plays with that idea that teachers are always watching their students, even if it doesn't seem like it. It's not just about observing; it's about whether they decide to take action or simply stay on the sidelines.
Ngl, certain characters, in canon, feel rather two-dimensional. Maybe, it's because I haven't really read the manga or finished the anime --- but like yeah. So I like exploring them, giving them depth and stuff like that. Like Yaga, Yu, Ieiri, and others.
Suguru narrowly escaped critical injury thanks to your swift response, an imperceptible wall formed by hundreds of tiny chains that perpetually encircled him, akin to a vigilant guardian.
Though invisible to Suguru's eyes, these chains remained visible to Gojo's discerning gaze. In truth, this visibility was the sole reason Gojo took the actions he did.
Suguru's lack of injuries was all thanks to a secret chain connected to his soul. It channeled cursed energy into him, helping him heal swiftly. The finer details of this ability were still a bit hazy, but that's a tale for another day.
The elders, were deep into an emergency meeting, no doubt wrestling with the current crisis. Or so, one would think.
"And so, the pissing match began once again." After this line, I genuinely had no idea what to write next. So I chose to involve the one character that just feels right to write about.
Kento's call came in the wake of an extremely close call, and he needed something to anchor him back to reality before diving back into his mission. The soothing sound of your voice, coupled with Yu's presence, worked like a balm on his nerves. (But you thought it was because he was worried about you. Which, technically, is true but that's beside the point.)
Episode: Borderline --- "...Keep it vague, just like your pointless existence." Goes hand in hand with, "...Or what? You'll kill me. Please, I'd like to see you try." Was that your own self-deprecating thoughts, or ???
The reason why Suguru's hands hovered was because he was afraid of causing more damage.
It wasn't his energy that made his soul quiver; it was the fear of losing you.
I wanted to have a little fun so I made that what you eat the most is what your cursed energy either feels like or tastes like. 🤷
As for Gojo, his Infinity vanished the moment he saw you crash through the flower shop window. The sheer shock and horror of the scene caused him to unintentionally drop it.
Typically, Gojo's soul is shielded from your sight due to the nature of his Infinity. However, when he released it, you were able to catch a glimpse of his presence, marked by a curious warp-like effect.
"It was strangely addictive, and you found yourself wanting more, even as you noticed the tremble in his soul." Energy vampire much?
The fact that you only ever truly feel safe is when you're in Yu's dorm room surrounded by his plants.
You intentionally left some minor wounds untreated, a small act of consideration for Ieiri. It would give her something to do when she arrived, and you secretly longed to be in her presence again.
"It was his voice, yet not his own." Is a reference to Suguru's creeping depression as well as an indirect reference to Kenjaku.
"...Are you out of your fucking mind?" Is Suguru referencing Gojo's technique and how it fries the brain to a crisp.
"Suguru swore under his breath as he felt a light pain blooming at his waist." and "...it's tendrils aiming for his right side" is a reference.
Note how, even though Gojo always keeps his Infinity on (or almost always) along with the fact that he's a Special Grade sorcerer, you still felt the need to protect his back from the minor curse.
The North Star symbolizes guidance, direction, stability and purpose. And no matter what, it stays in the same place no matter what goes around it.
It's not a glass ceiling, but rather a glass wall. Which can be interpreted in multiple manners. It can be the wall between you and Gojo, despite being able to see each other so clearly, a wall remains. The shattering of it representing your agreement in acknowledging the connection.
Or, it's the slow shattering of the Curses Trio's reality as we near Spring.
Or, it's foreshadowing.
Blue roses signify the unattainable. It's like a longing for something to exist, but it forever eludes your grasp. This is a direct reference to the Jujutsu Kaisen Season 1 Opening where Gojo carries around a bouquet of blue roses.
In this episode, the clash of "Pearlescent vs. Iridescent" gave way to a harmonious fusion of Pearlescent AND Iridescent. This is to reference that an emotional connection has been officially acknowledged. Not made but acknowledged.
"The connection would've been near-perfect if it weren't for..." His being is near-perfect in your eyes because if he had just never been born with Six-Eyes, you'd love his blissful ignorance
Although Suguru might be considered your closest friend (in Gojo's mind at least), it was Gojo you instinctively reached out to. Ironic considering how long you've been trying to emotionally avoid him.
If my memory serves me right, the traditional act of sharing a bottle of sake signifies a union among individuals, and for this particular chapter, it felt more like the forging of a soulful connection, a merging of three souls into one. You could even liken it to a form of matrimony.
The consistent theme remained that open communication was a challenge among the three of you. You rarely delved into meaningful discussions, each holding back in your own way. (Communication may be key, but understanding is the door.)
The heart beats are a reference to another Episode, but I don't remember which. Oops.
Gojo didn't throw the bottle at Suguru because he was genuinely tired of fighting with the bestie --- he just wanted you and Suguru back.
Yaga being the silent observer says A LOT. You just don't realize it.
What was the meeting about?
Were you talking to your continually fracturing mind or someone else?
And what exactly did you mean when you said you saw scenes in the shattered glass?
Drop a comment!
Feel free to donate me a🦩
Hope you enjoyed!
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mochimooon · 6 months
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distractions - jean kirstein x reader
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pairing: Jean Kirstein x gn! Reader word count: 700+ summary: Jean really is a good listener. He just gets distracted by the person he's supposed to be listening to. author's note: in a fluffy mood today, and after writing my previous piece, i wanted an excuse to write more jean. this piece was written on the fly, drabble, no real plot. established relationship. reader is a conspiracy nerd. warnings: reference to conspiracy theory, reference to injuries, and fluff ☻
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You ramble on, recalling the details of yours and Sasha’s debate. “She swears it was an avalanche that took out the hikers. But how?” 
The pitch in your voice sharpens, though Jean doesn’t even flinch. He’s quiet, watching the myriad of expressions play across your features as you fill his head with your conspiracies of Dyatlov…something. 
The details are vague despite hearing about the topic a few times from you already. He feels a little guilty that his focus slips from your words, but he can’t help admiring the way your brows crease, refusing to believe Sasha’s theory, or how your eyes light up with a counterargument you’re convinced debunks all other speculation.
“Weird orbs captured on camera,” you continue without pausing for breath. “Missing tongues. Running naked, in the snow—” Your spiel is cut short, like an axe thrown on a log. “Jean, are you listening?”
Jean blinks. “Mhm.” He struggles to keep a straight face at your narrowed eyes. You’re not naive, you know when Jean’s guilty. 
“Name the last thing I said.” You raise your chin, arms folding together. 
“Naked in the snow,” Jean says, a little smug when you blink in mild surprise. “Tragic. They should have brought a blanket."
And the flicker of forgiveness is gone from your eyes, replaced with an annoyed scowl. 
You shrug, arms lifting in defeat. “Fine, fine, fine.” You sigh, rising to your feet. “I’ll just find someone who cares. Eren and Armin are downstairs, they don’t mind listening—”
Jean’s long arm reaches out. Fingers wrap around your wrist before you can get a chance to walk away. Nor does he give you a chance to pry him off. Nope, not allowed because he’s pulling you back until he’s got you sat on his lap. 
“Who and who?” Jean scoffs, wrapping an arm around your waist. Just in case you’re still thinking of leaving. He grins. “I’m listening. Swear.”
Or at least he’ll try to. It’s not like Jean doesn’t care about your interests, he just gets so lost in how excited and passionate you get about them. He’s never cared much for conspiracy theories. 
By contrast, it’s what you love to discuss the most. He still remembers your opening line to him when you both matched on Tinder. 
Hey! Are you familiar with the Aquatic Ape Theory? :)
Since then, Jean’s learned so much that he never would have thought to discover on his own. All thanks to you and your tin hat theories. 
It was all endearing the stuff you liked to talk about, and he did his best to remember every detail, because he did want to. But times like right now, was a challenge, because whenever you dive into another monologue of theories, all Jean could think of was how cute you were. He can't help it, he's smitten.
Lovesick—his roommates, Eren and Armin often teased him of being.
Maybe, and what about it? Jean couldn’t care less. And would it be so wrong to interrupt your musings to pull into an embrace and shower you with affection just for being one-hundred percent yourself?
You fold your arms again, eyeing him with suspicion. “You're lucky you're pretty."
Jean cracks another grin, rubbing his hand up your back. “Or what?” At your deadpan stare, he says your name affectionately. “I promise. Tell me more about missing tongues and Dyatlov…?”
You roll your eyes, shifting to get up. “Bye.” 
But Jean’s too quick for you, wrapping his hold along your waist and plopping you on his bed. 
Hovering over your form, Jean’s arms root themselves on either side of your head. He gives you a sincere look. “You’ve got my attention. I’m all ears. You can give me a pop quiz after."
While you're Jean’s weakness, it’s twofold, and Jean is smug as you relent, smiling up at him to let him know he’s forgiven. 
“Anyways…” you drawl at first before launching into another rant on why Sasha’s conclusion of an avalanche does not explain the inconsistencies in the Dyatlov—thing. “Their injuries were all different, some speculate that a yeti…”
Jean nods, soaking in your presence that never feels like enough. He hums to acknowledge that he’s listening, lowering his lips to kiss your jaw.
“Jean…” There’s the switch in tone again, and Jean smirks against your skin. 
“I’m listening. Just making sure I hear you better.” He kisses your cheek, then your earlobe. 
“I’m two seconds away from—hey!” 
Jean bears his weight on top of you, just enough to keep you from escaping. “Hm? Why’d you stop? I want to know more about the mountain story.” His lips travel to your neck, tickling you with the scruff on his chin.  
You squirm beneath him, a medley of complaints and laughter filling Jean’s ears. 
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