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#who's ready for the final issue of spirit world...
tastycitrus · 6 months
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Steph: Hey Cass, it's me—the most important person in your life. Just showing up as the center of this group shot to reinforce that fact 😉
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Steph: Sup, it's me again. Just standing in the center of this group shot because I'm still the most important person in your life 😊 Love you, hit me up when we get a new ongoing series together 😘
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elizabethemerald · 1 year
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Son of the Red Hood: Part 2
Timely Conversations and New Fathers
Diana Prince strolled through the gardens of Themyscira enjoying the moment of peace in between missions for the Justice League. Flowers of all manner were blooming and flourishing in the gardens, small birds and butterflies flying lazily from flower to flower. She smiled to herself as she rubbed her fingers against one of the blooms, releasing more of the heady scent. 
“Diana!” A voice she recognized called to her from behind. 
She turned and midway through the turn realized something was wrong and pulled her blade as she completed the turn. Sophia, her dear friend stood a few yards away, her arm upraised in greeting, though frozen in place. The butterflies were similarly frozen in place, some mid flap of their wings. 
Diana turned again, keen eyes trying to pick out any threat. When she once again faced the same direction she had been walking in she saw a grandfatherly being with teal skin and a purple robe. She may not recognize the being’s face, but she could feel the energy coming off him well enough. She slid one foot back as she settled into a fighting crouch. 
“Lord Kronos.” 
“Peace God-Killer.” The being said. “I have no wish to cause harm to you, your home or this world. Besides, your work is already completed in my regard.” 
She stayed tense, ready for any attack but when none came she strode forward and thrust her sword into the being’s chest. Kronos looked down at the blade with a grimace but didn’t otherwise react. 
“You are a spirit.” Diana said simply before withdrawing her blade. 
“Yes I am. Among my kind I am known as Clockwork now.” 
Diana stepped back, but stayed wary of any trick. Spirits were just as known for trickery as Titans were known for aggression. She did not know what to make of the spirit of a former Titan. 
“Very well, Lord Clockwork. Why have you come? And what have you done to the inhabitants of Themyscira?” 
“I have simply frozen you and I in a single moment. When I depart things will resume as they were before. As for why I have come…”
Clockwork hesitated, and before her eyes aged backwards until there was a young man standing before her. His hand went to his chin as he considered the problem before him. 
“I have come to ask for your help in training the next king of my kind.” He finally said. 
Diana paused in confusion. Of the great many things she had expected to be asked, assisting in training was not one. 
“The next king of the Titans?”
“No. The next king of Ghosts. The last king, a tyrant by the name of Pariah Dark was dethroned in combat by a mere boy. A child, half of this world, half of the next. He has much he needs to learn before he takes up the crown and while I have given him as much time as I can he is still largely untrained.” 
There was a lot of information there. Diana felt for a moment that she was sitting in one of Batman’s debriefs. She settled back from her watchful stance to consider the issue. 
“If the boy-king needs training, why not train him yourself? Or have another of your kind do the deed?”
Clockwork sighed, Diana watched as he deaged again until he looked like a child himself. 
“While the boy is powerful, wise and just beyond his years, in my efforts to buy him the time needed to be the best king the Infinite Realms has had, I have made him vulnerable. If the ghosts who wanted the throne knew of his vulnerability they would take advantage. I am restrained in how much I can interfere. Besides all that he is of the world of men. He needs as much training in this world as he will in the next.” 
Diana considered his words carefully. Finally she nodded. 
“I will train this little king. Where may I find him?” 
“You may take your time to search your histories and consult with your sages, I don’t expect you to take me at my word. But you will find the boy-king in a city shrouded by darkness and cloaked in death, guarded by one to whom the shadows cling. When the time comes, follow the one who calls to you.” 
Diana blinked at the riddle and by the time her eyes were fully open again, Clockwork had disappeared and she could once again hear the sound of bird calls. 
“Di-Oh! Diana! Have you been training with those speedsters of the world of men? I’ve never seen you move that fast.”
She turned to address Sophia who seemed to be unharmed from her brief moment being frozen. 
“Sophia, were you calling for a specific reason?” Diana asked as she turned to her friend. 
“No reason, I just was wondering if you would be joining us for a celebratory dinner tonight.” 
Diana nodded. 
“I may be a little late. I need to spend some time in the archives. I have much to consider.” 
Sophia looked a little confused, but ultimately didn’t bother her, she knew Diana had many responsibilities from her work with the Justice League. 
“Very well, Diana. I will be sure to save you a plate.”
Diana smiled at her friend and strode quickly towards the Library of Themyscira.
.
 Jason swung through the city of Gotham from one grapple point to the next. Normally when he went through the city he took his bike. The grapples he stole from the bats just weren’t made to carry the amount of armor and weapons that he normally carried on his person as Red Hood, but sometimes, he just needed to remember what it was like to fly. 
Now he needed to fly because he was following a strange pull on the Pit. Anything that made the Pit sit up and pay attention was something to be concerned about, especially when whatever it was pulled him to a building just outside his turf. That seemed deliberate. Like someone was purposefully trying to draw him out of where he controlled. 
Jason hated the Pit. It was rage and hatred and vengeance, and he thought he had wanted that, but it was also blood and death and threatening his family, and fear in their eyes and their blood on his-
Now that feeling in his chest that burned and turned his vision green called like a siren’s song. He needed to find whatever was calling him. If it was a threat he would remove the threat with extreme prejudice. If not… then at the very least he would remove it from anywhere it could threaten the rest of the bats. No need for anything Pit related to be outside Hood’s territory. 
He landed in a crouch on the rooftop that had been calling him and stood cautiously looking around for any threat, or the source of the call. He didn’t have to look very hard. There was a child laid out in the center of the roof. 
A child. Alone. On a rooftop in Gotham. If Jason wasn’t seeing green before he certainly was now. He dashed forward, keeping a weather eye out, just in case one of his enemies decided to use a kid as bait. If they were he was going to tear their bodies apart. Their corpse would be unrecognizable as human. 
Jason fell to his knees alongside who couldn’t be older than five, a small collection of personal items next to the kid like they had been dumped here alongside the kid. Worst of all was the green glowing puddle next to the kid. It didn’t have the consistency of Lazarus Water and was closer to the thickness of blood. Jason’s hands hovered over the unconscious form of the child, their chest shallowly rising and falling with each breath. 
A crunch of gravel at the other edge of the rooftop made Jason whirl around bringing his guns up, his eyes blazing green. When his brain caught up to the fact that the person was Dick it took all of his self restraint not to squeeze the trigger anyways. 
“Dammit Dickiebird! You should know better than to try and surprise me!” Jason snapped, his voice harsh. 
“Oracle noticed you were out of your usual turf and I wanted to make sure-” Dick froze as he looked past Jason. “Is that a kid?”
“Yes, it's a kid! It’s a kid and he’s hurt and he’s barely breathing and for some reason I can feel him through the Pits!” Jason’s voice was hoarse as he whispered, he holstered his gun, trying to ignore the way his hands shook. 
Dick was immediately at his side, kneeling next to the kid. He looked over the other things, the hat, the gloves, a teddy bear dressed as an astronaut. That last one was actually kind of adorable. 
“Who just leaves a kid on a rooftop? In Gotham of all places?” Dick said. He picked up the teddy and looked at it closely as Jason returned his attention to the kid. 
“Someone who wants them found by a Bat I’ll bet.” Jason said softly. 
Dick examined the bear for a moment longer before he squeezed the bear’s paw. Both of them were surprised when they heard the voice of a young woman come from the space themed bear. 
“I love you so much Danny, no matter what.” The voice said. They were both just as surprised when the kid, Danny maybe? stirred and looked around. 
“Jazz?” The kid said as he sat up. 
Jason immediately put a hand on the kid’s back to keep him as steady as he could. 
Dick pressed the bear’s paw again and that same voice called out. 
“I love you so much Danny, no matter what.” 
Danny reached for the bear and Dick willingly handed it over. The boy looked confused at the beat before pressing his face to the bear’s fur. 
“Hey kiddo. Are you Danny?” Dick asked. 
The kid nodded his head. 
“Is your mom named Jazz?” Jason asked. It wasn’t the weirdest idea that the kid would call his mom by her first name, but Danny immediately shook his head. 
“No! Jazz is my sister!” Danny had the pouty voice of a toddler who thought the other person was being stupid. “She’s the best!”
Dick grimaced, but carefully hid his face before Danny could see it. A child abandoned on a rooftop and a sister missing in the wind. None of this seemed good to them. Danny made to stand on wobbly legs, but winced and held his stomach, falling back onto his backside. 
“My tummy hurts!” 
Dick and Jason immediately crouched at his side again, concern clear in their movements. 
“Hey buddy, tell us where it hurts.” Jason said, trying to keep his words soft past the voice modulator in his helmet. 
Danny grabbed his side, just below his ribs. Jason reached towards the buttons of Danny’s star themed footie pajamas with shaking hands. 
“Do you mind if we take a look? If you’re hurt we can take care of you.” 
The kid thought for a second before nodding. Jason helped him undo his buttons one by one. He could feel a burning rise in his gut as the top of a scar revealed itself. A few more buttons and he could see where the two up branches of the scar joined in the center of his chest and continued further down. Someone had vivisected this kid. 
Someone had VIVIsected this KID. 
sOMEone HaD cUT OpEN thIS KID
Someone had Cut open this KID
Green filled Jason’s vision and with the last of his self control he turned away and marched over to the edge of the rooftop. He was going to kill- he was going to tear them- Blood he needed blood- All he could feel was rage-
He felt a small hand take his own. 
His head snapped down to look at the hand with unnatural speed. Through the haze of green in his eyes he could see the little boy, pajamas still unbuttoned, had grabbed his hand. Danny was desperately tugging on Jason’s hand, trying to pull him down all the while waving his other hand in the air as if he was trying to waft away smoke or bugs. 
Jason crouched down next to Danny. Distantly he could tell that Dick was watching him closely, hands anxiously outstretched in case he hurt the kid, but Jason could no more hurt this boy than he could cut off his own hand. As soon as he was on the kid’s level Danny used both hands to wave around Jason’s head with an annoyed look on his face. 
“Go away! Leave him alone, green monsters!” Danny shouted, still waving his hands around in the air. He scowled almost as well as Damian at whatever he could see around Jason’s head. 
The green that filled his vision slowly faded. He could still see the vivisection scar on Danny’s chest and it filled him with rage, but the rage was his own and there were no murderous impulses. Jason took a deep breath and slowly released it, letting the tension and fury drain from his body. Eventually he would deal with whoever did this to a kid, but until that time he had different priorities. 
“Thanks kid.” Jason said. He could see Dick relaxing in the corner of his vision, but he stayed focused on Danny. 
“Of course! It’s why I’m here! To protect you from the green monsters.” Danny said proudly, jutting his little chest out. Then he sagged against Jason, wrapping his arms around his neck. “Now I’m tired.” 
“Go ahead and take a nap kiddo. We’ll get you somewhere safe.” Jason said. 
It only seemed to take a moment before Danny was fast asleep, his arms still wrapped around Jason’s neck. He picked up the kid easily and settled him on his hip before he turned to look at his brother. 
“Dickolas. This kid just ended the Pit Rage by asking nicely. I don’t know what happened to him before, but if anyone tries to hurt him I’m going to end their entire bloodline.” He sighed out. “Until we find his parents or his sister, Jazz, I’m going to keep him safe.” 
“Understandable, though he might be safer at the Manor-”
“If you tell B about him I’m going to blow your brains out.” Jason interrupted. He wasn’t going to let B get another kid killed. Dick put up his hands in surrender. 
“I’m just saying, how many guns do you think are currently on your coffee table at your place?” 
Jason wanted to growl in annoyance, but he couldn’t really deny that. 
“Could you come with me?” Dick could have only looked more surprised if Jason had asked to have a family dinner with Bruce. “Just come, keep an eye on the kid while I baby proof my apartment.” Jason grit his teeth for a moment. “Please.” 
He could see Dick’s eyebrow raise even with his domino, but he nodded all the same. 
“Yeah, of course. What are brothers for if not for babysitting strange children with mysterious powers over the Rage of the Lazarus Pit.” 
Jason scowled but the two of them still descended the building together and made their way into Crime Alley towards Jason’s apartment. He kept a firm hold on the sleeping Danny the whole way there.
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northoftheroad · 1 year
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Ten-ish panels to sum up Dick Grayson
@roma107 challenged me some time back: “10 Nightwing Panels That Perfectly Sum Up His Character. Your turn. Go.” It’s been hard to even get close, and in the end I couldn't quite keep it to ten panels... But, enjoy disagreeing with me all the same. 😉
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1. Robin vol 2 # 13 (1995)
Dick has issues with Bruce – they have had occasional problems with communication since the early 1940s – but he is loyal to a fault.
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2. Teen Titans vol 3 # 6 (2004)
Just about every one of DC’s heroes respects, trusts and is prepared to listen to Dick. Obviously, that's not because he's a nice guy – which he is, don't get me wrong – or because he puts in the work with relationships – which he does. That may make people like you, but it's not enough to get them to follow you into battle...
No, that's because he's smart, professional and competent. As you see here, he can also be intense and knows how to make a dramatic entrance...
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3. World's Finest Comics vol 1 # 200 (1971)
Dick is (often, but not always) ready with a smile and a joke. He loved being Robin as a kid, he wanted to do it forever (see, for instance, Nightwing vol 2 # 75). As Batman after Final Crisis, he smiled enough to convince Two-Face it wasn't the old Batman.
To what extent Dick jokes because he's in a good mood, he’s trying to keep his spirits up or he wants to annoy criminals enough to gaude them into sloppy mistakes – it varies between creators and Dick’s mood at the time😉
However, there have certainly been periods when Dick has not put on his best behaviour. He snaps at Alfred, he's unpleasant to close friends in the Titans, etc. I'd argue this is a sign he's not in a good place, mentally. Most of the panels of short fuse/asshole Dick Grayson you will find floating around are either from when he was leading The Outsiders (vol 3), and was struggling after the death of Donna Troy. Or from the almost five years' worth of New Teen Titans comics where his behaviour is influenced by being tortured and brainwashed by Brother Blood (New Teen Titans vol 1 # 22, August 1982, to New Teen Titans # 31, May 1987).
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Alternate panel: Teen Titans vol 2 # 12 (1997)
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4. Battle for the Cowl # 3 (2009)
Dick is prepared to change. Whether it's about a new mantle, getting a new job to pay the bills, or moving to a new city.
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5. The New Teen Titans vol 2 # 6 (1985)
Dick might drop everything when somebody asks for help, and he is open to asking for help and working with teams better than Batman. But he does have his own set of control issues. He wants to have a job instead of living on Bruce’s money; he wants to know how to cook etc so he can take care of himself. You could argue it's a response to being orphaned and losing his home at a young age, and then having several episodes when he doesn't feel secure about his place with Bruce Wayne (see, for instance Robin Year One, Batman plays a lone hand in Batman vol 1 # 13, Partner to Batman in Batman vol 1 # 65)
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6. Action comics weekly # 613 (1988)
Dick is uncomfortable with casual relationships/sex. When he had a fling with Huntress (Nightwing/Huntress, 1988–1989), he tried to start a relationship. It took him a long time to accept that he could live with Kory after she had gone through with a marriage of state on her home planet, and he felt strange living with her because they weren't married (see NTT vol 2 #48).
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7. Detective Comics vol 1 # 881 (2011)
Dick is a nice guy who chooses to be kind, optimistic and to give people the benefit of a doubt – but he's still sneaky and definitely not stupid.
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8. Titans vol 1 # 3 (1999)
Yes, Dick jokes a lot, and he enjoys hanging out with his friends. But he's also a workaholic and holds himself to a very high standard.
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Alternate panel: New Teen Titans vol 1 # 29 (1983)
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9. Nightwing vol 4 # 41 (2018)
He has a tendency to self-blame - and he is also very stubborn! Presumably, the tendency to feel guilty over things outside his control is partly survivor's guilt, but also related to the very high standards he holds himself to, and the very high expectations others have on him. And, I would argue, this tendency is a reason he sometimes lets friends an family punish him without fighting back.
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Bonus panel: sometimes, he can admit he has a problem with self-blame. The New Titans vol 1 # 57 (1989)
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10. Nightwing vol 3 # 29 (2014)
He wants to be a safety net for everyone. That's a good summary of Nightwing as a character, in my opinion.
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And... Nightwing vol 4 # 43 (2018)
Bonus. This one-shot is a good Nightwing story, but very unfair on Roy Harper/Arsenal. It touches on several things – how Dick is always ready to help, that he does not want to be like Batman, his tendency to blame himself...
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ride-thedragon · 24 days
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Nettles, Rhaenyra, Laena, Mysaria, and the Prize that is DAEMON TARGARYEN
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Now, I'm not going to sit here and police shipping. I'm also not going to act as though better writers and thinkers long before me haven't talked about the same phenomenon of centring men in women's narratives as a way to value the women. However, as a person in this fandom, I do want to apply this thought to the shipping discourse of Daemon Targaryen because it has become exhausted.
We treat this man as though he's the prize to gain when these women are in relationships with him. In the sense that when Daemon picks these women to have a relationship with they gain a value and devalue the women he leaves behind. We see this with him going:
from Rhea and Mysaria to Laena.
He finally has a Valyrian bride who matches his spirit and can give him Valyrian children. They get along and are of equal standing.
From Laena to Rhaenyra.
He moves on, finds real happiness, finds his true family, becomes the Targaryen he was destined to be with his Targaryen bride at his side, and their Targaryen children with his real family
From Rhaenyra to Mysaria .
Rhaenyra became mournful and wasn't as she once was. Him and Mysaria just have this connection, and Rhaenyra approves.
From Rhaenyra and Mysaria to Nettles.
Daemon finally found someone he could look past himself for. The singers say they end up together. He does all of this and leaves the Rhaenyra to her death because Nettles left. He's finally ready to settle down and grow old. She saved him.
All of this is an overgeneralised hyperbole of conversations I've seen, but they always centre Daemon choosing these women to be in a relationship with as their biggest accomplishment in the narrative. Him at their side is the biggest deal, and when he leaves them, they are discarded and replaced by his new love interest.
The issue with this
Prioritising a man, this man, as the main factor in these relationships, discredit the women who exist outside of him and make it seem as though he's the only thing that adds value to them. The language being used, in short, dismisses their personhood and equates them to something he can own, discard and replace at whim, and he alone adds value to them. It's icky language especially with his game card.
Lady Rhea: wasn't even her choice. She hated him and refused to give him an heir to inherit Runestone. In the show, she makes sure he returns and kills her by insulting his sexual prowess.
Mysaria: is complicit and involved in his worst action but always ensures she pulls herself up with it. Being his courtesan made her wealthy, almost made her his wife. Then she's complicit in blood and cheese and gets herself promoted to the Lady of Whispers to the Queen, eventually putting an end to him.
Laena: CLAIMED THE LARGEST DRAGON IN THE WORLD AS A TEEN. Is quite literally the mother of the girls that survived the Dance. Her blood inherits her house's seat.
Rhaenyra: Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. Had men avenge her death, and her son sat on the iron throne after her.
Nettles: created the religion that forged the most dangerous tribe in the Vale of Arryn. Claimed a wild dragon and committed alleged treason and escaped.
I'm not saying Daemon isn't important. I'm not saying he doesn't play a part. I'm saying that when we have these conversations about him and these women and the progression of his relationships with them, I hope we can reach a place where the idea that he leaves them isn't a jab or joke against one woman for the sake of the one he chooses. It's getting strange.
Women don't lose value because of a man. Ever.
This also applies to Baela and her adaptation in the show. She isn't uninteresting because she isn't a tomboy or like Daemon. They make her a political girl in the show and like Laena. That's not a loss. She's modelled after Rhaenys as well. She's just reflective of the women in her life. I'm sure she'll have a relationship to Daemon as well, but she's the Ward of Driftmark. That's quite interesting. We also have tomboys like Alysanne and Sabitha, so we aren't in a deficit by any means.
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sgiandubh · 5 months
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OK, I got it : Telegraph shitshow, anyone?
Oh, what the hell. I had no patience and couldn't picture myself fidgeting in a dull supermarket and ending up by forgetting half of the things on my list.
So, here it is, all of it.
Proof of buying:
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Yeah, "between Outlander's seasons nine and 10'. See how accurate the girl who wrote it is? How about a cobbled something to address the real issues at stake, of which there are three (more on this, in my next post)?
LOL? LOL.
Anyway, there goes. Passages in bold are marked by me:
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If anyone knows a thing or two about sex scenes, it’s Sam Heughan. Over the past decade, the 43-year-old Scottish star of Outlander, the cult-hit historical drama, has filmed hours of notoriously raunchy footage in his role as Jamie Fraser, the dashing 18th-­century Highland rebel, with his wife, Claire – a time-traveller from the 20th century, played by ­Caitríona Balfe.
Yet two years ago, Heughan, as one of the executive producers (with Balfe), introduced an intimacy co-ordinator to choreograph such scenes, which had been criticised by many as excessively violent.
“The industry’s completely changed since Outlander started,” Heughan says, sitting in a Soho bar on a visit to London from his home outside Glasgow. “Not just our show but also shows like Game of Thrones were very graphic, with no room for the imagination, in a way that’s quite jarring now. As young, keen actors, we were just expected to get naked and go at it. Caitríona and I formed a bond and trusted each other, but there were times when we were pushed too far.” He was especially troubled by a scene involving full-frontal nudity in ­season one, when Jamie was tortured and raped by his rival, Black Jack Randall (Tobias Menzies). “That really didn’t sit well.”
Everything changed following the MeToo scandal, leading ­Heughan to employ Vanessa Coffey to choreograph the sex scenes. “So now everyone knows what the boundaries are, like in a football or rugby match. It’s been so helpful and freeing, and it was because I didn’t want younger actors to go through what we’d gone through. Now, the scenes are sexually charged, but not gratuitous.”
Despite his heartthrob status, Heughan – who’s 6ft 2in, with the strapping physique his role necess­i­tates – is modest and thoughtful company. He also had Coffey enlisted to co-ordinate his latest pro­ject, Channel 4’s erotic thriller The Couple Next Door, filmed during the short break between Outlander’s seasons nine and 10, in which he plays Danny, a policeman living in a Leeds suburb in an open marriage with Becka (Jessica De Gouw).
“We didn’t want to make a salacious or seedy show about swingers,” Heughan says. “It’s about the psychology behind it – what is it to be in an open relationship where two characters love each other so much that they can invite people into that relationship? I think it’s possibly the greatest form of romance to allow your partner this, if it’s the itch they need to scratch. My character struggles with it.”
The couple’s (initially) strait-laced neighbours are played by Alfred Enoch and Eleanor Tom­linson, who in 2019 finished five seasons as Demelza in Poldark. With Outlander about to start ­filming its final season, she and Heughan compared notes on moving on from a huge, long-running costume drama.
“It’s emotional. For me, the prospect’s hugely bittersweet. It feels like getting out of an institution. Outlander’s like a family, it literally defines who I am.” After all, Heughan has created an empire of Outlander spin-offs, including books, television travelogues and his spirits brand, The Sassenach – named after Jamie’s nickname for the English Claire – not to mention his charity, My Peak Challenge, which has raised nearly £5 million to fund a variety of causes, including ­hunger relief and blood-cancer research. “I’m ready for new challenges, but also nervous about what it’s like in the real world,” he says.
Still, he felt now was the right time to wrap. “Outlander could have finished after the ninth season, but, personally, I felt we hadn’t quite got there. So now we have the problem of pushing the writers to do something that’s hopefully satisfying for the audience, but also exciting.” So Heughan doesn’t yet know how Outlander ends? “No idea, and it’s really tough because Diana [Gabaldon, the author on whose novels the series is based] has written so many books.”
The show has a vast international fanbase; VisitScotland has cited a 67 per cent rise in visits to the show’s locations, such as Culloden and Inverness. “I do feel like I’m an unofficial ambassador for Scotland, and sometimes I don’t think the show is given enough credit for what it’s done for Scottish tourism,” Heughan says. “I think the numbers are even bigger than they say, because reams of Americans are just making their own itineraries. Doune Castle’s numbers are up 800 per cent, it’s been completely renovated as a result.”
The show has also transformed the local film industry. “For 10 years, we’ve been employing ­people at over 200 Scottish locations, we’ve started an intern scheme, we’ve built a studio with five sound stages where there was nothing before. So it’s going to leave a legacy.”
The son of an artist single mother (his father walked out when he was a baby), Heughan spent his early childhood in the Borders, his teens in Edinburgh, before studying at Glasgow’s Royal Scottish Academy of Music and Drama, where his mentor was third-year student James McAvoy.
Having worked in London and Los Angeles, Heughan fell back in love with Scotland when he was cast in Outlander. Initially against independence, filming the first ­season in the run-up to the 2016 ­referendum transformed him into a vocal advocate. “Scottish politics right now is a bit of a mess, which is a shame, but maybe they’ll find a new rallying cry. We’re a great wee country with amazing resources, most of which are controlled by the British. Similar small European countries have great identities.”
Initially, Heughan is hesitant to discuss the issue, aware taking either side will provoke a social-media backlash, but then he decides: “Why can’t actors have opi­n­ions? The problem is you have to come down on one side, there is no room for deb­ate. Everything has be­come so aggressive and then social-media algo­rithms mean you only get to see one side of the argument.”
He had his fingers burnt when last month he signed an open letter from Artists for Palestine UK, alongside the likes of Tilda Swinton and Steve Coogan, which accused the Government of “aiding and abetting” Israeli war crimes, but failed to condemn Hamas’s terrorism. The following day, Heughan rescinded, saying he hadn’t “fully understood” what he was signing.
“I was maybe naively calling for peace, which is what we all want, but, unfortunately, that situation is so complex, I can’t understand it all,” he says now. “As an actor, you have a platform, but if you put your thoughts out there, you upset ­people, but you’re also damned if you don’t say anything.”
Heughan’s taking time to navigate a potential post-Outlander career path. “I’m a workaholic, but I have to be discerning. Whatever I do next, I have to feel really passionate about.” Possible plans include directing and exploring a different side to Scotland than misty heather and bagpipes. “I think that underbelly you see in [Ian Rankin’s] Rebus and Irvine Welsh is very interesting, there are still pockets that are very hard and gritty.”
Back in 2005, he auditioned for James Bond in Casino Royale – the role that eventually went to Daniel Craig. Now, there’s a new vacancy. “I’ll throw my hat in the ring,” he says, grinning. “I’d be a brilliant Bond, I’m good at action and I’d bring a lot of ­emotional intelligence.”
There might even be space for a personal life. Heughan’s mystified by “facts” he reads about his private life online. “There’s so much ­nonsense that’s completely false – apparently, I have a daughter. News to me!” he says, flushing. The truth, he says, is that Outlander leaves no time for relationships.
“It’s insane hours and takes over everything. Caitríona’s carved out a beautiful family for herself that she protects very well, but I’ve seen how hard it is for her to do that. I want a cat, but I’m too scared even for that, how would I look after it? One day, maybe,” Heughan says, dreamily.
The Couple Next Door begins on Channel 4 on Monday 27 November at 9pm; stream all episodes from this date
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idkyetxoxo · 15 days
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One | Allure | The Last Kingdom
"Are you dead?"
"No, but you wish I was, don't you?"
───☆⋅☾⋅☆───
The day of my birth was shrouded in suffocating air, the night darker than the deepest abyss, devoid of stars but illuminated by an entrancing full moon.
In the arms of my father, the great Earl Ragnar, I took my first breath. His eyes, ablaze with paternal pride, reflected a sense of fulfilment as he cradled his final child, his youngest daughter.
While the world labelled me with epithets of darkness and irresistible allure, my father saw only the radiance of his beloved daughter, the beacon of light amidst the shadows. Despite the whispers of others and the ominous aura that seemed to cling to me, my father's unwavering love shielded me from the darkness that sought to define me.
──☆⋅☾⋅☆──
I rode alongside my brother Uhtred and the men sworn to him. Osferth, the young monk who joined our group recently, exuded a gentle warmth that seemed out of place amidst the harsh realities of our world.
Finan, bound to my brother after surviving the horrors of the slave ship, was a constant reminder of resilience and loyalty.
Sihtric, however, was a different story. Our first encounter ended in violence, a dagger buried deep in my leg, leaving behind a bitter resentment that simmered beneath the surface. Our relationship was strained, to say the least, defined by a mutual hatred that lingered like a shadow between us.
As we arrived in Alton, greeted by the sight of the devastated village, my attempt at levity fell flat amidst the grim reality before us "How fun" I said. Uhtred's scolding glance and Finan's chuckle only served to underscore the gravity of the situation.
"Rest your dark little mind," Sihtric remarked, his words dripping with sarcasm as I dismounted from my horse, ready to face the aftermath of destruction.
"You're next," I retorted, pointing towards a fallen man nearby and then at Sihtric, the weight of our mission pressed down upon us as we discussed our plan of action. Osferth approached the group of Danes, leaving me to murmur to Finan in frustration.
"What the hell is he saying?" I grumbled, only to be met with Finan's hand covering my mouth, a futile attempt to silence my impatience.
"Yeah, most, some of you might run away, hopefully. I've got.. I've got a sword. A very sharp sword but I'd prefer it if you surrendered." Osferth declared, and now I was grateful for Finan's hand over my mouth, stifling the laugh that threatened to escape.
"Be quiet, will you," Finan murmured, his expression a mix of amusement and exasperation as I responded with a playful lick of his palm, earning a grimace from him.
The chaos unfolded swiftly, the clash of swords and screams echoing through the air as the Danes fell before us. After the carnage, a figure emerged from the shadows of the church, a human heart clutched in her hand. Skade, the sorceress, exuded a chilling aura that sent shivers down everyone's spine, everyone except me of course.
The confrontation between my brother and the sorceress unfolded like a sinister dance, each step fraught with tension and menace. Their words clashed like swords in the dimly lit church, echoes of power and defiance reverberating off the stone walls.
"You now belong to me, and your spirit is mine to torment," Skade's voice dripped with malice, her words a chilling reminder of the dark forces at play. I couldn't help but roll my eyes at her theatrics, the veiled threats failing to evoke the fear she intended.
As Uhtred issued orders for Skade's restraint, I watched with a mixture of disdain and resignation. Her bindings served as a physical reminder of the danger she posed, a manifestation of the darkness that lurked within her soul.
"Brother, are you scared?" I whispered, my voice barely above a breath. His knowing glance spoke volumes, a silent acknowledgement of the peril that surrounded us.
"Not when I have my own little devil," Uhtred's words brushed against my ear, his nuzzle against my hair a gesture of reassurance. I couldn't help but groan at his jest.
Upon our return to Aescengum, Skade in tow as our prisoner, we regrouped with Alfred, Edward, Beocca, Aethelwold, and Steapa. To our surprise, Alfred expressed a desire to delay the impending battle. He wished to confront Skade himself, to see the witch who had wrought such havoc with his own eyes.
Uhtred escorted Alfred to see Skade, leaving the rest of us to wait in anticipation. "What, they're alone?" I asked, my curiosity piqued as I glanced back in the direction Uhtred had just walked from.
"Alfred wishes to hump the witch," Finan chuckled, his laughter infectious as I couldn't help but join in.
"What an unexpected turn of events," I remarked, sliding my arm around Finan's waist as he reciprocated by wrapping his arm around mine. "I don't blame him. I've always wanted to know what it would feel like to hump a witch," Finan quipped, eliciting a playful scrunched-up face from me.
"Maybe the one they call the devil will have to do," he added with a mischievous grin, prompting a gasp of feigned shock from me.
Before we could revel in our banter any further, Uhtred appeared behind us in a moment, his expression stern and unwavering. "Unhand my sister right now before I make sure you aren't able to hump another woman again," he warned, his tone laced with a hint of threat.
Finan, ever the jester, removed his hands and held them up in surrender as I pouted in mock indignation. "You can't blame a man for trying," he retorted, his tone light despite Uhtred's admonishment.
"I can and I will," Uhtred declared firmly, leaving me to sigh dramatically as the tension between us dissipated into laughter once more.
The night stretched on, devoid of sleep, as Skade's relentless cries pierced the darkness. Her ceaseless pleas for freedom echoed through the fortress, a reminder of the danger she posed.
"Someone shut her up before I do it myself," I grumbled, frustration seeping into every word as I pressed my hands against my ears, desperate to drown out the cacophony of her voice.
"Her screeching is deafening," Finan added, his head buried in his hands as he struggled to find respite from the relentless noise.
"Hah, she sounds like you then," Sihtric remarked, a sardonic smile playing at the corners of his lips as he pointed a finger in my direction. In response, I grabbed a fur and hurled it at him, the gesture a futile attempt to silence him.
──☆⋅☾⋅☆──
As the first light of dawn crept over the horizon, the eerie silence of the fortress was shattered by the arrival of the witch's keeper at the gates. This time, however, he brought with him not just a message, but hostages, women, innocent victims caught in the tangled web of malevolence.
"Fucking coward," I muttered through clenched teeth as Bloodhair callously slit a woman's throat before our very eyes, his demands ringing out like a twisted melody of despair. Two more lives were snuffed out in an instant, their blood staining the earth as a grim testament to the cruelty that permeated our world.
Uhtred emerged from the fortress, Skade in tow, the air thick with tension as he made a show of punching and kicking her before the assembled crowd. Skade's twisted encouragement to Bloodhair hung in the air like a poisonous fog, her words dripping with malice and venom.
With a steely resolve, Uhtred issued his ultimatum to Bloodhair, his voice cutting through the chaos with a chilling clarity. He had until sunset or each man in their fortress would take their turn with Skade. The fate of the hostages hung in the balance, their lives dependent on the whims of a man driven by madness and greed.
Bloodhair's gaze ascended to the fortress, and our eyes locked for a fleeting instant. The smirk that danced upon his lips as his eyes roved over my form prompted a roll of my eyes, he was too cocky for my liking.
"How exciting for you, Finan. You might get to hump a witch after all," I remarked, my voice tinged with sarcasm as I scrunched up my nose in disgust. Finan's light push away from me was met with a half-hearted shrug and a small smile.
"Heard the little devil here likes taking control, even uses her daggers when the mood strikes" Sihtric's voice oozed with a sly tone as he emerged from behind us, his smirk palpable.
Both Finan and I swiveled to confront his smug expression. "Is that so," Finan chimed in, his grin widening mischievously.
I seized the opportunity to turn the tables on Sihtric. "Why have you been questioning what I'm like in bed?" I interjected, my tone dripping with amusement as I watched his smirk falter into contemplation, a pleasing moment of triumph.
"I suppose that's the closest you'll come to satisfaction, given I wouldn't entertain your touch even in dire circumstances," I added, a smirk playing on my lips as I casually turned my head to the side, anticipating his response.
"Come on, Irishman, let's leave this rat to his fantasies," I declared, my voice laced with amusement as I beckoned to Finan. He burst into raucous laughter, effortlessly falling into step beside me as we sauntered away, leaving Sihtric in our wake, visibly flustered.
──☆⋅☾⋅☆──
The Battle of Fearnham unfolded like a meticulously orchestrated play, each move calculated, each action deliberate. From the moment the clash of steel echoed across the battlefield, victory seemed within our grasp. Bloodhair, once a fearsome opponent, revealed himself to be nothing more than a coward, fleeing at the first sign of adversity. The satisfaction that filled me as I watched him ride away, his retreating form a symbol of his defeat, was indescribable.
Collapsed on the ground, my body heaving with exertion, I clutched my dagger tightly in my hand. Bloodied and bruised, every fibre of my being screamed with exhaustion, yet I was alive. A voice broke through the haze of fatigue, kicking me lightly as I groaned, turning to meet Sihtric's gaze "Are you dead?" he asked.
He looked down at me with those same bright, two-coloured eyes, a glimmer of amusement dancing within their depths. Despite my hatred for him, I couldn't deny the undeniable allure of his rugged features. It was as though the gods themselves had sculpted him from the very essence of masculinity.
"No, but you wish I was, don't you?" I retorted, the words dripping with sarcasm as I met his gaze head-on. Sihtric feigned contemplation for a moment before nodding, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. 
In a swift motion, I kicked his legs out from under him, a fleeting moment of triumph before I scrambled to my feet and fled, his angry protests fading into the distance as I disappeared into the field.
The journey back to Winchester started light-hearted and jovial, but the mood quickly soured as Skade's incessant chatter grated on my nerves. "Shut your trap woman, I'm tired of your screeching," I erupted, unable to tolerate another moment of her relentless talking, yet she remained unfazed by my outburst.
Upon our return to Winchester, Hild awaited our arrival, her sombre expression signalling that something was amiss. Uhtred's crestfallen face confirmed my worst fears as Hild delivered the devastating news.
Gisela, beloved by Uhtred and cherished by all who knew her, had succumbed to childbirth. Even in death, she had given Uhtred another son, but the joy of new life was overshadowed by the weight of our collective grief. Days had passed since her burial.
My heart sank as I turned to face the others. The smirk on Skade's face, a cruel mockery of our anguish not gone unnoticed by me fueled the flames of my rage until I could bear it no longer.
Without hesitation, I lunged at Skade, my fury propelling me forward as I delivered a stinging blow across her face. Sihtric's swift intervention prevented me from inflicting further harm, his grasp firm as he pulled me back from the brink of violence.
"You little bitch," I muttered through clenched teeth, tears threatened to fall down my face but I remained composed, she wasn't going to get the satisfaction of seeing me upset. I pushed Sihtric away and stormed off in the direction of Uhtred.
──☆⋅☾⋅☆──
"Are you alright?" Sihtric's voice, tinged with concern, reached me from behind, his gaze fixed on the night sky above. "I don't have the energy for you right now, leave," I replied curtly, my words laced with a rawness born of grief and sorrow, before retreating into the darkness.
That night, as Uhtred mourned by his wife's grave, I found solace in comforting my niece and nephews, their innocent presence a balm for the constant ache in my heart. 
───☆⋅☾⋅☆───
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an enemies to lovers slow burn 🤭 ALSO had to be season 3 sihtric because like have you seen him???
25 notes · View notes
slashaer · 1 month
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like this for a starter from one of my d.imension 20 muses. specify muse (s) from under the cut, there's a little blurb about each to help:
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ayda augefort. half phoenix in her 3rd incarnation. autistic. logical / analytical. owns a library of spells on a pirate island. daughter to the dean of a magical high school.
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lady amangeaux. once queen of vegetania, her title was stripped from her once her husband, the king, died. caring, compassionate, and willing to fight for what's right. thoughtful and empathetic, she's trying not to become bitter with the war. has telepathy and can communicate nonverbally.
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king amethar. rightful king of candia. man made of rock candy. nearly assassinated. not very good at being king, but he's learning alongside his wife and daughters. good in battle.
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prince andhera. prince of air and darkness. awkward, hot, and muscular. done trying to make his mother proud - he's going to make himself and his friends proud, instead.
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barry syx. number six of the nine barry clones. lost all of his brother clones to barry nine, who killed everyone but syx. big himbo, but happy to be here. good with guns. cyborg.
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cody 'night angel' walsh. works at hot topic. into black clothes, satan, and kickass rock music. has a good heart beneath all the spikes and dark colors.
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colin provolone. born of the dairy isles. daddy issues. a very loyal himbo who tries to do what's right. did not want to be a part of a war, but destiny had other plans.
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delloso de la rue. mistrex of ceremonies at the bloom for over a millennia. needs everything to be perfect. has never enjoyed any of the festivities. has been hiding themself for too long - they're finally ready to show who they really are, and start living.
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evan kelmp. wizard going to school for magic, and staving off the dark monsters and magic within him. orphaned, homeless, and a sad boi. bad at making friends, and has a bad temper, but a good heart.
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fabian seacaster. son of a famous swashbuckler. pompous and very wealthy. acts as if he's above everyone else, because that's how he was raised. cares about his friends, even if he doesn't say it. has a talking, demonic motorcycle. loves to dance.
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garthy o'brien. anasimar pirate and impresariex of the gold gardens. they trade in a lot of fine goods, especially magical items, and are known for their ability to break curses. nonbinary and badass. calm and pretty much unshakable. everyone wants to be with them. a bit of a flirt.
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prince gerard. the frog prince. turned human when he married his wife, but cursed to turn back because of his cowardice. has anxiety, but learns how to fight and overcome his fears. still has his frog powers when he's a man once more.
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gorgug thirstlespring. half orc. adopted, by gnome parents. emo teenager who likes music. trying to fight better. became an athlete with two of his friends. kind of sad. just wants to belong. now an artificer and builds great stuff, just like his mom and dad.
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kingston brown. the man who knows everyone. protector of new york city. do no harm, but take no shit attitude. loves his parents. slow to trust, but loyal once he does. magical. vox populi.
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kristen applebees. grew up in a religious home, now constantly questioning her faith and deities. recently found out she's a lesbian. laid back and chill, most of the time. philosophical in nature. smart, but a little clueless. absolutely built. worships the goddess of doubt. running for class president.
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kugrash. 5 foot tall rat who travels through the subways of new york to help people struggling with homelessness. friends with santa claus. cares deeply about people and wants the world to change. has the mouth of a sailor, but means well.
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pete conlan. also known as 'pete the plug' because he's a drug dealer. uses a lot of his own drugs because of a bad breakup. trans man who is estranged from his family. just learned magic and is absolutely tripping out.
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pib. trickster spirit. familiar trapped in animal form due to his keeper dying. mischievous and always ready for a scheme. likes money. loyal as long as he likes you. good heart underneath it all. will change back into a human when he finds someone new to serve, or frees himself.
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pinocchio. not a real boy, and never will be. warlock who gets his magic from his strings. used to lie a lot, but he's trying to be better. likes to tell jokes, but isn't the best at it. not very serious. drinks whiskey and eats bubblegum.
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riz gukgak. wants to be a detective, so he's always investigating. carries a briefcase wherever he goes. acts too old for his age. drinks a lot of coffee. is always willing to take the stress off of his friends.
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ruby rocks. one daughter of king amethar. twin to jet rocks. princess, but would rather perform in the circus. wants to be a part of the people and help them. has wild ambitions. practitioner of magical tricks.
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sandra lynn faeth. fig's mother. has issues keeping partners. brave and willing to protect the kids at any cost. 100% mom coded, down to the mom jeans. great with a bow. has a griffon familiar.
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theobald gumbar. a giant, pink gummy bear. knight of candia. loyal to the house of rocks. good in battle, not the best at casual conversation, but he's learning. will fight until the death, if needed. needs to relax a little bit.
19 notes · View notes
seravphs · 2 years
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ੈ♡˳·˖✶ — GOJO X FEM READER
Tradition dictates that your friends visit the lake during the first day of summer. Tradition does not dictate that you go skinny dipping with Gojo Satoru, but you do anyways. 
wc — 4.5k 
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Tokyo summers burn. Like its own personal firestorm, the atmosphere of the city seems to form an oppressive dome that traps warmth. Heat rises and brings oxygen with it, leaving a devouring void behind that makes each breath a laborious fight. 
Summers are still your favorite, anyways. Non-sorcerers spend their whole year clawing their way to a break, and the relief that washes over the entire city when they finally make it brings the appearance of cursed spirits to the lowest it will be annually. 
Even when your back is damp from sweat and cicadas buzz incessantly outside your window, nothing feels better than this. This summer, however, brings with it a tension that didn’t previously accompany the years prior. 
Entering your third year at Jujutsu Tech feels like a door unmistakably closing shut behind you. It’s entrapment to a brutal world that demands your allegiance to protect non-sorcerers, yet claims the bodies of your friends one by one. Everyone can feel it. With the desperate strength of a drowning man who knows his fight only prolongs the inevitable, you cling to your last days before you’re thrust out into the viciousness of jujutsu society for real. 
Technically, Jujutsu High students graduated at the end of their fourth years, but by that time, they were already functioning sorcerers. Their education was in name only. The school only existed as a command center, of sorts. They slept in the dorms, but in every other way, they were true sorcerers, already working on missions. Gojo was viciously jealous of Utahime and Mei Mei, but you dreaded the day that would be you. 
You missed Utahime. She transferred to Kyoto last year on account of familial issues, but she’s been offered an opportunity to return this summer, combined with a stipend and a dorm. In exchange, she’s supposed to shadow Masamichi, ostensibly in the name of preparing her to become a teacher. 
You know privately that Masamichi just wants his favorite student back, and to keep everyone out of trouble. There was no need to pay for a babysitter if Utahime was there. With her presence, Gojo’s rate of unsalvageable collateral damage due to his sheer existence went down by 20% and Utahime’s blood pressure went up by 65%. 
A knock on the door startles you even when you expect it. Sliding open the screen door, you nearly walk into a wall of black fabric. 
Gojo and Getou both hit growth spurts last year at around the same time. Where once you would’ve at least been able to ruffle his hair without tip-toeing, now you stand eye-level with his chest. He’s ridiculously tall, lanky in a way he’s only just growing into. All his pants had to be thrown out and replaced with new clothes, not that it was difficult with the funds he has. Trust fund baby, you think affectionately. 
His glasses sit delicately on the bridge of his nose, those famous eyes peering down at you over the top of them as he grins, a flash of canines that’s too sharp, too much. “You ready? Poor Utahime’s going to be stuck there for hours if we wait any longer. You know the traffic sucks at 5:00.” 
Instead of answering, you steal his sunglasses off his face and slide them onto your own, leaving him to catch up to you as he walks down the hall. It only takes him three steps before he’s next to you, slinging his arm around your shoulders. 
Utahime looks pristine despite the sweltering heat. All around her, children are crying, parents are complaining, and conductors are trying desperately to pacify irate customers. People are more irritable than normal. Utahime, however, is as warm and personable as ever. By the time you reach her, she has just sent a child off with a lollipop. He promised her to be more careful in public, brushing off the dust on her nearly spotless skirt from running into her. His grateful mother thanks her again before she ushers her son off. Utahime was just sweet like that, easy to love, hard to anger. There was only one person that could infuriate her. 
Gojo reaches over and flicks her forehead, “Utahime!” He draws out her name, making it sound like Utahimeeeee. “How does it feel to be back in Tokyo?” 
She turns and looks at you. “I want to go back to Kyoto now. This was a mistake.” 
You laugh and lean forward to hug her. She smells like green tea and orange blossom and white chocolate, a curious mixture of the natural and artificial, but so homey and comforting. She smells like familiarity, and you drink it in, resting your cheekbone against her shoulder for a brief second before you pull back. Utahime gives you a surprised look that melts into tenderness. “Missed me, huh?” 
Gojo gags. “Get a room, you two.” 
When you smack his shoulder, he doesn’t even flinch. “Shut up, Gojo.”
You give yourself one more five second hug with Utahime. “It’s just good to have you back.” 
You don’t know how to explain how you feel. Having Utahime back means everyone is all together again, all the people you love most in the world collected in one place. They’re not too far out of reach, never more than an arm’s length away. You’re not clingy to the point where you can’t stand it when somebody has to leave, but it just always feels more right when the seven of you are together. Something settles back into your place under your breastbone, a feeling of mild but perpetual discomfort that had been present since she left melting away. 
“Come on,” Gojo calls. He’s already ahead of you, those long, long legs striding through the crowd with ease. There’s more than a few eyes on him, men and women alike watching in appreciation. “Everyone’s waiting in the car.” 
A man bumps into Utahime, nearly spilling her luggage. You steady her, and Gojo is already heading back. He shoots the man a nasty look as he takes her suitcase, and after giving your own purse a considering look, grabs that too. 
You laugh. “It’s not heavy, I don’t mind holding it.” 
“Oh,” he says. “I’m not doing this for you. It matches my shirt.” 
You and Utahime share a look. Narcissist. (You love him.) 
Utahime nearly slaps Gojo when she sees what he’s decided to drive today. It’s sleek and silver, a gorgeous beast built for luxurious speed. On the way here, you didn’t feel a single bump in the road, some ridiculous technology built into it prevented it. For all its beauty, it is, however, way too small. 
Utahime gives him a disbelieving look. “Are you serious? Are you an idiot? Are you insane?” She jabs a finger into his forehead and twists it.
He bats her away. “It’s fine, it’s fine, look! You can just sit on Nanami’s lap, and we’ll throw your luggage in the trunk with Haibara and he’ll keep it safe. It’s a win-win!” 
“You put Haibara in the trunk?” 
Gojo knocks on the top of the trunk instead of answering. 
“Yes, Gojo?” Comes the dutiful answer. 
Utahime looks horrified. “None of you said anything?”
Getou laughs. Everyone seems to forget that he and Gojo are best friends for a reason, and for all that he hides it, they’re just as bad as each other. Shoko wouldn’t expend her precious energy on something like this. Nanami’s making a face that says everything he doesn’t need to: would Gojo even listen to him? Utahime raises an eyebrow at you. 
“I called shotgun,” you say in lieu of an explanation. 
“Ugh,” she shakes her head. “Thank god I’m back.” 
She’s exasperated but smiling as she walks to the other side and pops the door open. Nanami’s hands hover over her hips when she gingerly climbs into his lap, clearly torn between keeping her secure and trying to be respectful. 
Gojo cackles. “Look at his face!” Nanami’s turning red, either from lack of oxygen because he’s holding his breath, or embarrassment. 
“First time you had a girl in your lap?” He jeers. 
“Stop that! I know you planned this just to tease him,” Utahime says. 
“Yeah,” you chime in. “Eyes on the road before you total your nice car.” 
“As if I couldn’t afford another,” he grumbles, but he does as you say. 
Shoko pulls out an earbud. “Oh, Utahime!” She hadn’t even noticed. “We picked you up! Wow, I was so sure Gojo messed up again and got the wrong station-“
“Hey!” 
“What are we doing now?” She continues, ignoring the driver’s protests. 
“Lunch,” Getou suggests. 
“I’m hungry!” Echoes Haibara, voice muffled. 
“Sure,” Gojo says, and the car accelerates a little more, the engine a smooth purr. “I’ll get us a reservation.” 
“Actually,” Utahime says. “As much as I love abusing the Gojo connections, I’m kind of craving breakfast right now.”
You check the clock on the dashboard. 6:15. 
“Where the hell do you think you’re going to get breakfast at 6:15?” Gojo asks, echoing your thoughts, though not as politely. 
Getou looks up from his phone, open to twitter. 
“There’s a chain restaurant nearby that serves 24/7 breakfast. It’s back there, though.” 
Gojo groans, but it’s Utahime’s first day back. He puts the car in reverse. 
Gojo’s car stands out in the parking lot when he pulls in. It’s purposeful, especially the smooth loop he does before he parks. He’s watching the group of teenagers outside gawking at the expensive vehicle. Everyone shares a long-suffering sigh. 
You all climb out and are halfway into the diner when Utahime shrieks. “We forgot to get Haibara!” 
A family of four gives you a terrified look when you pop the trunk and finally pull Haibara out.
“Don’t worry, I’m not kidnapped!” He hollers at them. You think it makes it worse. 
Surprisingly, he doesn't look like he’s been kept in a trunk for an hour. His collar is a little rumpled, but Utahime smooths it out for him. True to his word, he kept her luggage secure. 
The booths aren’t small by any means, but there’s eight of you. Gojo and Getou are over six feet already and Nanami’s shooting up like a bean sprout. At least Haibara’s still your height. 
“The little ones should go first,” Gojo teases, and  earns a kick in the back of his knee for his efforts. Still, Shoko obligingly crawls in, followed by Haibara, then Utahime. Getou and Gojo sit opposite each other, on the outside as always, which leaves you and Nanami to fill in the other side. It’s a cramped fit. Nanami is leaned as far into the wooden wall as he’s physically able, but you and Gojo are still shoulder to shoulder. To make more room, you nudge his stupidly long legs shut. He slouches further in protest. 
Getou orders for all of you and Utahime cuts up the meals. Everyone has their own idiosyncrasies. Gojo piles his waffles with powdered sugar and berry jam. Shoko, by contrast, hates sweets, and is wolfing down a smiley face made out of bacon and eggs. Haibara steals a bite from Nanami’s healthy, balanced plate of greens and protein. He receives no rebuke. 
You’re easily the loudest table there. Gojo and Utahime argue nonstop, while Haibara tries to break up the fights when he’s not busy pilfering everyone’s dishes. Shoko is fiddling with her phone, trying to find the right song, and one of her earbuds is out, sharing the tinny sound of the cheap speakers with everyone else. You’re a naturally attention drawing group, and even more so now. 
You leave a couple hundred dollars worth of a tip as an apology. Gojo’s bank account won’t feel a thing, anyways.  
Piling back into the car after it’s been baking outside under the summer sun is an ordeal, even though it’s night and the air is cooler. Gojo rolls down all the windows and the sun roof. The wind combs through your hair like the fingers of a lover, bringing the sweet smell of summer with it, burnt sugar and caramel. The radio is playing. Utahime leans over the console. Nanami makes a choked noise. Gojo’s eyes slide over to you, amused. Getou laughs outright. The seven of you play off each other so easily.
Utahime switches the station to something American, the soft strains of a melody achingly beautiful floating through the car. It’s some blonde pop singer, her voice strong and clear. Soon enough, you and Utahime are singing along to the chorus, not worrying about making it perfect. Off-key, scratchy, and hoarse, it feels good regardless. You reach through the sunroof to let the air resistance of Gojo’s car on the highway bat against your hands, letting the wind carry your voice away with it too. 
Utahime throws one leg over Shoko’s lap as she tips her head back, out the window. Nanami’s hand goes out, spooked; he settles it between the crown of her head and the outside world, as if to protect it. Eventually, Gojo joins in. He’s flawless, as always. The perfect pitch he discovered he had in violin class leads him to hit every note. 
“Stop!” Haibara calls out. Gojo breaks so hard the car squeals. You swear you can smell burning rubber as the tires spark against the tarmac. 
“What?!” Utahime’s already halfway out the door, distressed. In a minute, she would say that she told you so, it was a bad idea to let Haibara stay in the trunk no matter what he said. 
“I see a convenience store on Google Maps! Can we get ice cream? Please?” 
Everyone not in the trunk lets out a collective breath of relief. 
They scatter once inside, you included. Nanami and Haibara, joined at the hip, head for the ice cream. Shoko, Getou, and Utahime make a bee line for the slushy machine. Gojo disappears into the thin air. 
At first, you’re tempted to go for the slushy machine too, but you spot the snack aisle. Although you came in planning to get one or two items, not even five minutes in and you have to grab a basket. Whatever, you were planning to have a beach bonfire tonight to celebrate Utahime returning anyways. 
Someone presses up against the small of your back. Fingers dip into the curve of your waist. You flinch, but the flash of snow white hair out of the corner of your eye relaxes you. It’s just Gojo. You keep forgetting how much he’s grown now. 
He looks startlingly attractive under the fluorescent lights that wash everyone else out. His eyelashes are frosted in the cold glow of the blue tinted light, and his skin is perfectly poreless. Gojo is always the exception. The world would roll over itself to do him a favor. 
“What are you looking for?”
“Getou sent me a Tik Tok last night of these limited edition heart shaped chocolates.”
“These?” He pulls it off the shelf. 
“Yeah, thanks.” You make a grab for it. 
He holds it just out of reach, over your head. 
“Gojo!”
“Ask me for it.”
“Are you serious? How old are you?”
“Come on,” his voice drops an octave, becoming soft, quiet. Something for your ears only. His words feel like a caress. You’re tipping dangerously close to something the two of you have been dancing around all year, ever since Masamichi sent you two together on that overnight mission in second year. You’d shared a house, played at a family - or at least Gojo had. He liked to tease like that, sneaking up behind you and placing his hands over your eyes to announce he was home like a husband returning from work. But that wasn't the problem. 
The problem was that you’d caught him half naked, fresh out of the shower, in your shared bedroom, only a towel slung low on his hips. 
“I forgot my clothes,” he stammered uncharacteristically before you had jolted back to life and slammed the door shut. That image of him, hair damp, water trickling down his hip bones, had been seared into your memory. 
That makes this, whatever this is that he’s doing, dangerous. For both of you. 
Fighting to avoid his demanding eyes, you snatch a box off the shelf yourself.
“Guys,” Utahime’s voice calls, vaguely annoyed, “are you done yet?” 
“Coming!” Gojo calls back. He doesn’t pull away from you, in fact, he pulls you closer into his side as he tugs you towards the register where everyone waits. 
As you turn to leave, you spot a group of three boys watching you, clearly interested. Your eyes dart between them and Gojo, sudden understanding dawning as you place your items with the rest. 
It’s past midnight by the time you get back to campus. Everyone piles into Utahime’s room, too small for the mass of bodies inside. It’s a cramped, tight fit, but you’re all used to each other. A leg in a lap here, someone piled half on top of someone else there, and you make it work. Gojo and Nanami trade insults idly as Utahime unpacks, Shoko digging through her suitcase for souvenirs. She spots a bullet of maroon lipstick and snatches it up. 
Though it’s late, no one’s tired. The steady thrum of energy throughout the room is sustained by seven bodies. The minute someone flags, another is there to prop them up, almost as if Gojo’s perpetual six eyes now extends to the rest of you as well. This is how it always is, the first day of summer, and now it’s time for another tradition. 
Getou starts first, of course, everyone following his lead. “It’s hot,” he complains, and he means it, but he’s saying it just to say it. It’s the first act in a play that’s become routine. 
Shoko hums in agreement, then pulls a bikini out of Utahime’s bag. She yelps in embarrassment and tries to pull it out of her hands, but Shoko gapes and clings on to it, then presses it to Utahime’s body. 
“Uta! My god, that looks incredible on you!” 
Utahime blushes, the white strappy fabric falling as neither she nor Shoko make an attempt to hold it up. 
“It’s hot,” Gojo says again. 
Utahime pauses. “Lake?”
“Lake.” Nanami agrees. 
Just like that, everyone’s off to their own rooms, grabbing bags of clothes and towels. 
The lake is only a short walk from campus, surrounded by a dense crop of trees with an opening one has to know to look for. Above the lake is cloudless and starry, the moon’s gentle light making things appear as through a filter. Gojo’s white hair glows in the night, so he goes first, picking a path through the trees, easy to spot. He carries Shoko on his back. Utahime goes after, Haibara at her side, and Nanami on the other. One steep step in, and she’s already kept Haibara from twisting his ankle once. Getou insists on bringing up the rear, so you follow the rest, making your way towards the singular earth-bound star of bone white hair in the distance. 
The lake looks like another universe, reflecting the sky back at you, perhaps an otherworldly portal, if you were imaginative enough. Gojo steals a marshmallow from the supplies Utahime is setting out, meant to be reserved for the bonfire later, and is slapped in return. 
Everyone’s following an easy rhythm of old traditions falling into place, scavenging for wood or unpacking supplies. Gojo alone stands still in the chaos, an isolated island. There’s a wicked look in his eye that never bodes well for anyone. 
“Uh oh,” Shoko says warily. “What are you thinking of now?” 
“Let’s go skinny dipping,” he suggests. 
Utahime rolls her eyes. “Cute,” she says blithely, returning to her skewered marshmallow. 
Getou shrugs, his hair slipping off his shoulder. He’s already pulling his swim trunks off, unashamed of his body and the clear strength in it. The terrible two, always backing each other up. People seemed to forget they were two sides of the same coin. 
“Why not? Come on, Uta. It’ll be fun. Take a risk now and then,” he says, heading towards the dark waters. 
Utahime stammers, fingers toying with the edge of her bikini. Shoko goes next, undoing the straps of her top and sliding the bottoms down her pale, creamy legs. She goes to help Utahime with the ties of her own swimsuit, slipping it off the other girl, who’s blushing, but participating nonetheless now that Shoko’s clearly in. 
Nanami makes an expression of oh-what-the-hell and starts undoing the strings of his own trunks too, tugging them off. He runs down the dock and jumps into the water, submerged for a moment before he comes back for air. 
He gestures for Haibara, who follows him like a puppy. He shivers, but he climbs into the water, slipping his trunks off once he’s in and tossing them back on shore. Nanami shakes his head, trying to get the water out, slicking his hair back from his face. 
Gojo and you are the last ones left. You’re a little surprised by this fact, assuming it would’ve been you and Nanami or Utahime. Gojo has made no attempts to hide his body before, all lean muscles and sharp angles. 
Gojo looks over at you and arches an eyebrow. “You coming?”
You laugh, still thinking it’s a game, but you should’ve known better. Gojo takes it as a dare, because being the savior of the Jujutsu world comes with having an ego bigger than the moon. Very little genuinely gets a rise out of him. He thinks he’s above it all, and how could he not, when he so often physically is. But he picks the oddest moments to take offense to his pride, and somehow, your laugh provokes it. 
His hands slink towards his shorts, thumb dipping under the elastic waistband with a quiet snap. You know him. He never backs down from a dare. 
“Gojo.” You’re not sure how to continue, shrinking away from looking directly into his eyes. His were a peculiar white-blue. In a monochrome photograph, they would be a true negative, an empty space, a vacuum. 
It’s always hard to hold eye contact with him. You preferred him with longer hair. It softened him. Blurred out the edges and made the innate violence of his existence almost palatable. Last winter, Getou had convinced him to grow his hair out into a mullet. He had looked good, he always did, no matter what he did to himself. But for summer, he had cut it shorter. It was still long by most people’s standards, and soon his bangs would fall into his eyes, but it wasn’t enough to protect you from the piercing ice of his gaze. 
“You don’t want to come?” His voice is as if you’ve rarely heard it, speaking as softly as to a wild animal he doesn’t want to startle. He only ever uses this tone when he’s alone with you, too shy or embarrassed to allow the others to catch him like this. 
In a sudden burst of courage, you demand, “Only if you do it with me.” 
As he peels off his trunks, you shed your own swimsuit. This is more Gojo than you’ve ever seen in your life, swathes of moonlight pale skin that remains completely unblemished. Every sorcerer has scars, but not Gojo. 
You stand shivering, arms around yourself as the two of you face each other. 
“Come on,” he says, reaching out to touch your arm. “The water’s warmer.” 
You’re not shivering from the cold, but you obey. Utahime and Nanami are the strongest swimmers, and they’ve made it out to the middle of the lake, where they paddle in circles, testing each other. They race for the dock, then back out. Shoko and Getou remain on the edge, passing a cigarette between each other. They refuse when Haibara wants to share, too.
No one notices when you and Gojo slip into the lake a little further down, in a secluded area shaded by trees. 
He wades in just enough for the water to lap at his waist, his hips, the angular bones leading lower. Under the light of the moon, his skin glows with an ethereal blue that makes him look like he climbed out of a fantasy, highlighting his hair. You look away. 
You think this often: Gojo’s violently beautiful. Everyone knows it, most of all him. He’s difficult and terrible to look at, but his face calls for attention like a siren. In the water, more than ever the analogy rings true. 
“Why aren’t you looking at me?” He asks. 
The heat and exhaustion make you honest. You’re tired of fighting whatever unnameable force is pulling you and Gojo together like magnets. “You’re pretty.” 
He swims closer, his hands ghosting up your sides, or perhaps those are fish in the lake. The water ripples with his movements as he breaks the surface. He has nice hands, you notice, pretty like a pianist’s. He cups your cheek. 
“Am I?”  
“Don’t fish for compliments,” you murmur into the steadily disappearing space between the two of you. He’s too close. It makes it difficult to breathe. Gojo was always greedy. 
His technique manipulated space, made him capable of acting larger than life itself. When he walked into a room, he sucked all the air out of it, drew every eye. 
Now, in front of you, he blocks out the moon. All your senses are overloaded with Gojo and just him, superseding anything else you would have noticed. Your body catalogues what belongs to him and prioritizes it. His smell, his touch, even his taste when he finally leans in and brushes his mouth across yours delicately, only for you to lean forward and kiss him harder. 
He hoists your legs around his waist, still dripping water as he angles his head. He kisses like he’s got fever in his veins, burning and consuming and needy. He’s not careful enough. His teeth nick your bottom lip once, to your surprise, it feels good. You bring your arms up over his shoulders, pressing closer, closer, chest to chest. If Gojo’s a greedy god, you’re a willing sacrifice. 
“Gojo! Get back here, the s’mores are ready!” 
“Utahime,” he groans. 
In the distance, a bonfire glows. Your friends are waiting with marshmallows and chocolate, and yet, a part of you doesn’t want to leave this space with Gojo and lake water. It feels separate, somehow, from the rest of the world, almost as if Gojo’s technique is active. 
It’s a Tokyo summer, and the air is stifling. You can spare a few more minutes to cool off.
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Republicans clueless as to why they don't have the youth vote . . .
climate protection reproductive health student debt gun safety affordable healthcare LGBTQ+ rights interracial marriage contraception voting rights marijuana money in politics police standards workers’ rights teaching accurate history, science and biology strong public schools support of teachers immigration issues
* * * *
The Summer of Climate Collapse
[That's Another Fine Mess :: TCinLA]
Fifty years ago, I decided that a Master of Public Administration degree would be useful in my expected career in government. In 1975, I obtained on of the first MPA degrees in the field of “Environmental Management.”
One of the books we read was “The Limits to Growth,” published by the Club of Rome, which detailed current enviornmental problems and forecast where they would be in 30 years of no action was taken, some action was taken, or effective action was taken. I rediscovered that book in a box in my garage 25 years ago and re-read it with the benefit of hindsight, since their 30 year period had just ended. In every case, no action had been taken, and in every case the current situation had been accurately forecast by the contributors to the book.
In 1967, historian Lynn White Jr.'s prescient "The Historical Roots of our Ecological Crisis" was published in "Science" magazine. His thesis was:
"In Antiquity every tree, every spring, every stream, every hill had its own genius loci, its guardian spirit. These spirits were accessible to men, but were very unlike men; centaurs, fauns, and mermaids show their ambivalence. Before one cut a tree, mined a mountain, or dammed a brook, it was important to placate the spirit in charge of that particular situation, and to keep it placated. By destroying pagan animism, Christianity made it possible to exploit nature in a mood of indifference to the feelings of natural objects."
Perhaps it’s fitting that during this summer of climate collapse - and if you think it’s something other than that, consider that June was Earth’s hottest month on record since the Permian Collapse - the event that brought on the Age of Dinosaurs after killing off 70% ofr species in the ocean and 80% of those on land - until the end of this month when the record will be broken by July, a record that will likely last another 31 days to the end of August. The atmosphere is warmer now than it’s been in 125,000 years, when our species was a few thousand individuals living a precarious existence on the edge of extinction in what is now South Africa .
That we are all transfixed not by this news but rather by the prospect of the United States falling to the machinations of a tenth-rate failed circus clown demonstrates the problem.
The initial success of Christopher Nolan’s “Oppenheimer” suggests Hollywood is finally ready to portray the American development and use of atomic weapons during World War II as something other than an absolute necessity. Unlike past movies, Nolan’s film points out that J. Robert Oppenheimer and many of his contemporaries knew they were ushering in an era where eradicating civilization had never been so easy
The parallels to climate change may not be obvious to people who don’t sit around pondering the end of the world, but I see them. Both climate change and ever-looming nuclear catastrophe are willful human creations driven by “progress” - one by scientific theory and research turbocharged by limitless wartime government resources, the other by oil-fueled industrialization. Both rationalized as necessary evils; climate change as a consequence of endless convenience for the human species, and nukes as guarantor of fragile world peace via “mutual assured destruction.”
It only took nearly 80 years to get to the point that National Mythology can be questioned in a commercially-successful film In all the time scientists have tried to focus our attention on climate change, they’ve had nothing as visually arresting as a single bomb instantly wiping out a city.
That has changed this summer.
We now have a global heat wave few could have envisioned even ten years ago, while the fossil fuel companies driving this destruction are coming off a year of record profits.
I wonder how this will be portrayed on screen 80 years from now.
The World Meteorological Organization expects temperatures in North America, Asia, North Africa and the Mediterranean to be above 40 Celsius (104 Fahrenheit) "for a prolonged number of days this summer." It also expects more frequent heatwaves, spread across the seasons.
The ocean around Florida hit a record temperature of 101 degrees this week. Warm water like that will produce a hurricane that could wipe Miami off the map, the equivalent of a nuclear bomb.
While the Southwest swelters under a heat dome, Vermont saw its second 100-year rainstorm in roughly a decade. Early July brought the hottest day globally since records began, a milestone surpassed the following day. Yesterday there was flooding across the northeast from Wisconsin to Maine.
As these temperature and weather records fall, Earth may be nearing so-called tipping points. A “tipping point” is where incremental steps along the same trajectory could push Earth’s systems into abrupt or irreversible change, leading to transformations that cannot be stopped even if emissions were suddenly halted.
If these tipping points are passed, some effects such as permafrost thawing or the world’s coral reefs dying - both are already happening in Siberia and the Central Pacific - will happen more quickly than expected. We don’t really know when or how fast things will fall apart.
Some natural systems, if upended, could herald a restructuring of the world. Take the Thwaites Glacier in West Antarctica: It’s about the size of Florida, with a protruding ice shelf impeding the glacier’s flow into the ocean. Although the overall melt is slower than originally predicted, warm water is eating away at it from below, causing deep cracks. At a certain point, that melt may progress to become self-sustaining, which would guarantee the glacier’s eventual collapse. That will affect how much sea levels will rise; 80% of humans live near the ocean.
When melt from Greenland’s glaciers enters the ocean, it alters an important system of currents called the Atlantic Meridional Overturning Circulation. The AMOC is a conveyor belt, drawing warm water from the tropics north. The water’s salinity increases as it evaporates, which, among other factors, makes it sink and return south along the ocean floor. As more glacial fresh water enters the system, that conveyor belt will weaken. Right now it’s the weakest it’s been in more than 1,000 years.
The Atlantic Ocean’s sensitive circulation system has become slower and less resilient, according to a new analysis of 150 years of temperature data — raising the possibility that this crucial element of the climate system could collapse within the next few decades.
Consider that: Paris and London are at the same latitude as Hudson’s Bay, yet Europe has the climate it does because of the AMOC - we commonly call it the Gulf Stream - which brings warm water in contact with cold air, resulting in the clouds and rain that provide for all living things there. If that collapses, life in Europe could soon resemble that of northern Canada. Right now, Europe can grow enough food to feed its 740+ million people; if the AMOC was to die, the continent could be plunged into famine in a matter of years.
The study published this last Tuesday in the journal Nature Communications suggests that continued warming will push the AMOC over its “tipping point” around 2050-2080. The shift would be as abrupt and irreversible as turning off a light switch, and it could lead to dramatic changes in weather on both sides of the Atlantic, leading to a drop in temperatures in northern Europe and elevated warming in the tropics, as well as stronger storms on the east coast of North America.
If the temperature of the sea surface changes, precipitation over the Amazon might too, contributing to deforestation, which in turn is linked to snowfall on the Tibetan plateau.
A new study published in Nature Communications last week titled “Warning of a Forthcoming Collapse of the Atlantic Meridional Overturning Circulation” reports global warming forced by all the CO2 and methane in our atmosphere - if we action is not taken immediately - could shut down the AMOC as early as 2025 and almost certainly before 2095.
We may not even realize when we start passing points of no return—or if we already have.
James Hansen, one of the early voices on climate and the founder of 350.org, says measures to mitigate the crisis may ironically now contribute to it. A working paper he published this spring suggests that reduction in sulfate aerosol particles—the air pollution associated with burning coal and the global shipping industry—has contributed to warmer temperatures because these particles cause water droplets to multiply, brightening clouds and reflecting solar heat away from the planet’s surface. Hansen predicts that environmentally minded policies to reduce these pollutants will likely cause temperatures to rise 2 degrees Celsius by 2050.
This adds to a growing body of alarming climate science, like the one published last year in the Journal of Climate titled “Sixfold Increase in Historical Northern Hemisphere Concurrent Large Heatwaves Driven by Warming and Changing Atmospheric Circulations,” which indicates we’re much farther down the path of dangerous climate change than even most scientists realized.
That study essentially predicted this year’s shocking Northern Hemisphere heat waves. The lead researcher’s first name is Cassandra.
Perhaps most alarming was a paper published eleven months ago in The Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences of the United States of America (PNAS) titled “Evidence for Massive Methane Hydrate Destabilization During the Penultimate Interglacial Warming.”
It brings up the topic of the “Clathrate Gun Hypothesis,”which is the absolute worst case scenario for humanity’s future.
Across the planet there are an estimated 1.4 trillion tons of methane gas frozen into a snowcone-like slurry called clathrates or methane hydrates laying on the sea floor off the various continents. When they suddenly melt, that’s the “firing of the gun.” An explosion - in the context of geologic time - of atmospheric gas that’s over 70 times as potent a greenhouse gas as CO2. The Clathrate Gun.
The PNAS paper mentioned above concludes that 126,000 years ago there was an event that caused a small amount of these clathrates to warm enough to turn to gas and bubble up out of the seas. The resulting spike in methane gas led to a major warming event worldwide:
“Our results identify an exceptionally large warming of the equatorial Atlantic intermediate waters and strong evidence of methane release and oxidation almost certainly due to massive methane hydrate destabilization during the early part of the penultimate warm episode (126,000 to 125,000 y ago). This major warming was caused by … a brief episode of meltwater-induced weakening of the Atlantic meridional overturning circulation (AMOC) and amplified by a warm mean climate.”
The researchers warn we may be looking at a similar event in our time:
“This week, sea surface temperatures along the coasts of Southern Spain and North Africa were 2-4C (3.6-7.2F) higher than they would normally be at this time of year, with some spots 5C (9F) above the long-term average.”
This has never happened before while humans have existed.
The least likely but most dangerous outcome scenario is that the warming ocean might begin a massive melting of those methane hydrate slurries into gas, producing a “burp” of that greenhouse gas into the atmosphere, further adding to global warming, which would then melt even more of the clathrates.
At the end of the Permian, 250 million years ago, this runaway process led to such a violent warming of the planet that it killed over 90 percent of all life in the oceans and 70 percent of all life on land, paving the way for the rise of the dinosaurs, as cold-blooded lizards were among the few survivors. That period is referred to as the Permian Mass Extinction, or, simply, “The Great Dying.” It was the most destructive mass extinction event in Earth’s history.
As the scientists writing in the Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences noted:
“The key findings of our study add to a growing body of observational findings strongly supporting the ‘clathrate gun hypothesis.’ … Importantly, the interval we have studied is marked by a mean climate state comparable to future projections of transient global climate warming of 1.3 °C to 3.0 °C.”
We just this year passed 1.3 degrees Celsius of planetary warming: we are now in the territory of the Clathrate Gun Hypothesis if these researchers are right
The last time our planet saw CO2 levels at their current 422 parts-per-million, sea levels were 60 feet higher and forests grew in Antarctica.
Meanwhile, we’re pouring more CO2 into the atmosphere right now than at any time in human history.
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caring prompts | not accepting @cvrseduser
it takes a moment to change someone's life; that's a truth yuuta knows too well. a string of these moments had gotten yuuta to where he was today: shadowing his mentor—his savior—at the temple to free people of their stressors—cursed spirits, as geto-sama had called them.
for the first few people who had come in, yuuta attentively watched as the older curse user had kindly heard them out, noting the spirits idly hanging from the people in different places, in different ways. yuuta made a mental note that none of the people were even remotely aware of the clinging creatures. non-sorcerers only knew the pressure and the negative emotions they felt.
when a young woman walks in and states her own issues, geto-sama's welcoming hand gestures to the woman as he encourages yuuta to try it now that he's seen him exorcise a few of the small curses plaguing the lives of these harmless people. the teen is hesitant at first, never having dealt with such small targets, never having worried about another person when it comes to eliminating cursed spirits. he'd usually just fight curses under the supervision of another member of the organization and weaken the spirits enough for rika to bring back to his mentor for his consumption. it was better geto-sama stored them rather than let them roam japan unattended and risking civilian lives.
yuuta relents after his mentor reminds him of his great progress during training, his nonstop practicing, his new ability to release rika at will—his beautiful connection to his lost companion. yuuta feels silly for doubting his own abilities, sheepishly scratching his head with a smile.
"i guess you're right, " he says as he steps up to the lady, who they have learned is a freshman in university and stressed from the ongoing exams. she is also experiencing intense back pain that doctors were unable to treat or diagnose, attributing it to the nonstop studying. yuuta's eyes don't miss the serpent-like spirit wrapped around her waist, possibly flirting with the idea of crushing her entirely one day.
"rika," yuuta calls, his own curse appearing, ready to heed his orders as she always had. "let's help her out, alright?" he asks softly, nodding to the girl with a thumbs up. his smile from earlier finally reaching his eyes.
with this, rika slashes at the cursed spirit, ripping more than just the spirit from the girl. rika had stricken too strong; more than the curse is exorcised. a chunk of the young woman's midsection is gone; her body thuds as it hits the ground. however, with the threat eliminated, rika retires, leaving the scene in just a moment.
for a second, yuuta can't move. he watches as the blood begins to pool around his shoes, white sneakers sullied by red liquid. his breathing is even—silent almost—until it's not.
it dawns on him that the stains are a consequence of his own doing, another innocent life taken by him. the sight of red is his reminder of his crimes against his classmates—his reminder of rika, her lifeless body, her mangled corpse drowned in a puddle of blood. it's too much for him to bear.
silence is soon replaced with panic as his heart begins to pound against his ribcage, his eyes widening as he fixes his gaze beyond his shoes to the woman, now missing a chunk of her body. his arms raise to grip at his own hair, yanking a few strands out in his alarmed state as though bringing pain to him will pull him from some sort of dream—nightmare.
it doesn't.
oh god. this can't be happening—he'd been on such a roll with training. bringing out rika had gone so well over the past month. he'd been able to wield her without casualties among geto-sama and the other members of his organization.
geto-sama!—he'd spent much of his time trying to prove to him and the other curse users—jujutsu sorcerer, as geto called them—that he wasn't just some murderer, that he was someone whose gift would help change the world.
his eyes dart from the woman to his shoes, geto's feet visible in the corner of his eye, red soaking the fabric on his feet. his eyes briefly glance up to his mentor, before returning to the floor as guilt begins to consume him. he thinks he saw the remains of a smile on his teacher's face, but yuuta assumes it's from when he sweetly encouraged the teen to put what he'd learned in training into practice. that thought makes the 16-year-old all the more distraught. he was not making a good case for himself.
yuuta's knees hit the floor as he pushes his hands against the woman's open flesh, a futile attempt at stopping the outpour of blood from spilling any further.
"i—" yuuta begins, voice shakey, yet loud at the same time. tears begin to well in the corner of his eyes. "i didn't mean to—rika just—she missed. she didn't mean to—i didn't mean to kill her."
"i'm sorry; i'm sorry—"
his plead abruptly stops as he feels a gentle squeeze on his shoulder. he jerks up at the sudden contact, reflexively peering over his shoulder. his mentor's calm voice breaks through the turbulence.
❛  it's okay. i've got you. you're safe now.  ❜
this time, yuuta doesn't hesitate to look up at geto-sama. yuuta is not exactly calm, but he does feel relief that it seems as though his mentor understands that it was a mistake and isn't mad. although he is reassured, it doesn't stop yuuta from trembling as he presses against the open wound. "it's not. i just hurt her. she's bleeding—she's gone," he explains quickly, as though geto has the solution to this situation.
yet, at the back of yuuta's mind, he knows any advice doesn't change what happened at that moment.
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Writeblr Re-Introduction
I never did this quite right the first time. Get ready, cause this may be a long one. May be oversharing, but hey no character limit and I feel like being super in depth in my soon to be pinned post is on brand. -Ahem-
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Hello! You can call me Denise. I use she/her pronouns and I am 32 years old (ancient for Tumblr, I know) with a love for writing fantasy and romance with a lot of dark elements and intrigue. My characters can be messy and sweet and that makes them good to me. I have a lot of bad things happen to my characters, but I like a triumphant tale in the end where at least most people are happy or things turn out alright. I really have fallen for each and every one of my characters and feel the world in general needs some hope in conflict. I am bisexual/biromantic, demisexual/demiromantic, and polyamorous, so a lot of my characters are queer in some fashion. I love writing demi characters and polyam relationships the most so far, though it's taking a bit of build-up to get my first series to that point. My partner (married) is non-binary and I have trans and token cis-het friends and more, so I feel I have a good group helping and reading my books so that my characters come off the page as they should, even if I'm writing a label not my own. I'm also disabled, and in two of my three current projects there is a disabled character present. I only found this out a few years ago, slightly before the pandemic (wooo) and I still have no idea what's causing most of my issues even though doctors have proven something is wrong. I may have an undiagnosable condition with no name yet, so please be patient if I'm not quick to respond or post a lot. I have chronic pain, fatigue, GI issues, and migraines. Going to rattle off some ending facts about myself here. I love playing DnD and have an over two year campaign ongoing right now where I play a sorcerer. I adore cosplaying when I can afford it. I'm addicted to Final Fantasy 14. I still play Pokemon. I have been watching anime since I was about eight years old, which was at the same time I began writing my own stories, so I've been in this for a while now. I hope to always keep improving. I have a BA in English with emphasis in Creative Writing, and though it hasn't served in finding me gainful employment, I hope it helps me in entertaining with my words, which is what I always longed for anyway. All of my works have dark themes, and if you buy my books there will always be a specific trigger warning section in the front so you can make an informed decision. So with that out there, let's talk about my works!
Published Works
Arigale: Spite in the Spirit (Aug. 2021)
Status: Complete and Published
Genres: Epic fantasy, Romance, Action and Adventure Audience: Adult, maybe YA Length: Around 170k words
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(gray morality, friends to lovers, exploring a new world, critique on religious extremes, multiple ships to sail, magic galore and a practical armory, apparently a hot villain, LGBTQIA+ Rep (still building on in book two), found family, humor and at times dark humor, Multiple POV ensemble cast)
Judith and Chit are called to the lonely tower outside their city with little explanation. The one who summoned them is an old, elven wizard named Maleth, who will send them on a quest to lower their floating city of Arigale to where it once resided. Maleth is intrigued by Judith’s strange form of necromantic magic, yet he is also certain of the anxious young man in training to be a spearman and scholar.
Judith, a bubbly yet mysterious young woman, is eager to accept. Chit remains withdrawn and cautious, a remnant of being raised by the Order that presides over their land. Soon, both discover their meeting with the wizard carried dire consequences. Can they accomplish what has been asked of them and save Arigale by exploring the land below, no matter the lengths they must go to?
Available at: Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Apple, Indiebound, and Kobo.
First five chapters are available here on Tumblr for preview! Chapter One - Bonds Chapter Two - Blood Chapter Three - Beseeched Chapter Four - Brazen Chapter Five - Betwixt
I also have a book trailer for this one on Youtube and Tiktok.
Works In Progress
Arigale: Bond in the Blood (WIP)
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Aesthetic placeholder for now. The cover is in progress!
(Many of the same tropes as listed above, but more darkness and trauma themes than book one had. Another added romance that is friends to lovers to enemies to ??? You'll have to read to find out!)
Status: Drafting (60%)
Genres: Epic fantasy, Romance, Action and Adventure Audience: Adult, maybe YA Length: Not yet complete - Coming 2023
Judith and Chit's journey across the seas to Galavarn was not as smooth as they had hoped for. The standard of living here is much different than what they encountered on the mainland, and the newfound bond between them will be tested. Enigmas run rampant here, along with a woman from Maleth’s past who claims to hold the key to defeating them for good. Unfortunately, this woman has an unruly and strangely apathetic nature to her, along with a profound hatred toward their distant companion on Arigale. 
Meanwhile, back on the mainland, those left behind must bear their own struggles as a stranger appears and insists on taking one of their number with him. This man with red, sunken eyes bears a sharp grudge against Stemoss and worse obligations to a certain deity. 
Secrets of the past will come to light on this desolate isle, and the friends left behind will struggle to not become a cog in a plan devised long before they were even born.
Made to Taste (WIP)
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Made this placeholder cover in Canva, may or may not be final
(critique of racial relations and capitalism, LGBTQIA+ Rep, monsters and mayhem, dark boy and maybe not sunshine but optimistic girl, meet cute, Terrible CEO villains, small business owning woman protag, magical races in modern day, first kiss, ferris wheels, cute confessions and fluffy moments mixed with helping one another during awful ordeals, they were roommates)
Status: Possible series in the works. Book one draft is complete and editing begins soon. Book two draft in progress as well.
Genres: Urban fantasy, Romance, Paranormal Audience: Adult, maybe YA Length: Not yet complete - Book One possible in 2023
When Lyra Morley accepted a rough and tumble new hire from her bar, she didn't think he would end up her new roommate in a week. Noel Akatash brings his own debts, and the people holding the accounts aren't to be trifled with. Magical home invasions aside, Lyra is more worried about her business serving the city nightlife any food she can handle all made to order.
Cooking with a halfbreed's sense of smell comes with its perks, and one of them is that she can hide her skills in the kitchen so no one is any wiser about her true nature. The night-only diner called Made to Taste is meant to be a haven for those the city would rather keep buried. Lyra, the pacifist and abstinent dhampir, would fight to keep it safe. Good thing Noel knows a thing or two about being scrappy.
Dream Escape (WIP)
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Another aesthetic placeholder for now, but I have a cover in mind
(dreams vs reality, learning to cope, TW: suicidal themes are major part of this book, disenchantment, finding your purpose, joy in the little things is better than no joy at all, painting and artistry used to convey these themes, portal/dreamscape fantasy, Alice in Wonderland vibes, enemies to friends to lovers) Status: Plotting stage
Genres: Urban fantasy, Romance, Drama Audience: Adult, maybe YA Length: Not yet complete - No determined release YET - Standalone novel around 80k words
Emma Reed, 26, has a Master of the Arts and no place to put it but in her desk drawer. Once proud of her accomplishment, the lights quickly dimmed when she ended up living back in her old childhood bedroom at her parents place and flat broke. Helping Adrien with graphics for their streaming or Sarah with banners for her pet business is all well and good, but it's not at all how she imagined scrapping by. When her newest piece is rejected from the gallery she had finally convinced to give her a chance, Emma hits a downward spiral.
When she awakens, she finds herself in a strange new world with a strange man hovering around her. He calls himself Jasper, a dream painter, and quickly proves his prowess at sculpting others' dreams. Emma was in his care, but though he's petitioned her to wake up, she can't. Neither knows how she ended up in this place, but surrounded by the dreams of others quite literally brought to life around her, Emma makes the decision to stay.
Jasper won't let her. For one, if she stays there is no telling how badly that could go for her, or for his hopes of a promotion. Emma goes along with his plan to cart her across this new place, more as a sightseeing tour than the arduous task he finds it to be. Along the way, a bit of the light comes back into her eyes, and he can't help but remember how bright they both used to shine. Dulled and muddied palettes that they both became, can they start over?
Links & Socials
Find out all the info you need for Arigale, with pages for my other works upcoming when they are closer to release dates at my website.
You can support me with my illness and with saving for promotion, editing, and artwork for my writing over on Ko-Fi.
You can also find me being a struggling writer, but also a huge geek who loves DnD, anime, cosplay, RPGs, Otome, and more here on Tumblr and over on my other socials at Twitter, Tiktok, and sporadically on Instagram.
My Tags
I haven't been great at using these, but I'm going to try and be better.
#Arigale - for anything related to my Arigale series
#Made to Taste - for anything related to Made to Taste series
#Dream Escape - for anything related to my standalone titled such
#Writer Woes - for rants or jokes about how hard this can be
#Writer Advice - to take with a grain of salt please
#Mental Mess - when I have a bad mental health day
#Physical Mess - when I have a bad physical health day
#Free Commentary - When I reblog with additions in tags
And I'll of course be using #Writeblr #Booklr and other necessary tags as well when called for.
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lilyginnyblackv2 · 2 years
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Thoughts on “Buffy The Last Vampire Slayer”
Note: This post is not spoiler free, though I don’t dive too much into plot details overall. Also, it is both long and image heavy. These are just my thoughts on the mini, please feel free to add and share your own! Now, on to the post!
I know that the “Buffy the Last Vampire Slayer” comic is non-canon, but I really loved this scene:
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Joyce (Spirit) : “You know what real honor is? Being sought for your wisdom, using your experience to help others. Living out your final years, beloved by the family you’ve built.”
Buffy (Spirit) : “I haven’t done much of that.”
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Joyce (Spirit) : “It’s not too late.”
She says this to Buffy as they look at Buffy’s physical form lying in Spike’s arms. Not only do I like this because it is Joyce showing approval of Buffy and Spike being together, but also because of how it ties back to the idea of family and more specifically, found family. It’s a theme that really starts to become prevalent in the series in the seasons after the high school years. And Spike has always been apart of that family, with him being the core of it here in this short mini.
I’ve only read the first few issues of the Boom!Buffy comics, so I don’t know if this AU here is following that storyline (though, it is obviously not following the world of the TV show and Darkhorse comics). But something that I did notice was that Dawn doesn’t seem to exist in this world. 
In the TV show verse, Dawn’s existence forced Buffy into a parental role long before she was ready, with Spike being one of Dawn’s main protectors and caretakers. Now, here we are seeing something similar happening with Willow and Tara’s daughter, Thess. She is, in some ways, placed into a similar position as Dawn - her existence is one that will cause others, bad others, to come after her, and she has sealed magical power. Thess’ is innate magical power while Dawn’s comes from having been the Key, but it’s similar enough.
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Often Dawn is seen as one of the major, key factors that brought Buffy and Spike together in Season 5. She’s a character who constantly connects them. But in this mini we see another possibility where they still hold a connection even without Dawn’s existence. And what a connection it is!
I love how Spike is shown acknowledging that Buffy is older now, different in that respect, but how that doesn’t change his feelings and attraction to her. It’s such an important thing too. Seeing older women being depicted as desirable (without making her character look ridiculously youthful for her age or something of the like): 
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Strong and capable:
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And still being good enough and able enough to build a family, regardless of their age or abilities:
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is so incredibly rare in fiction.
While I had some small issues here and there with this mini (mostly with Anya’s “voice” - it sounded like her at times, but other times the writing missed the mark), but everything surrounding Buffy as an individual character here, as well as the bond she is shown to have with Spike here is great. 
There were great call backs to things, like Spike’s poetry:
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And I really liked how Buffy herself became “the sun” for a brief moment. It’s something that ties in so well to the themes of fire with the Spuffy relationship. In Season 7, Spike basically becomes the sunrise and obliterates the enemy and whole town.
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Here, Buffy doesn’t do quite the same level of damage, but she becomes the sunrise, just like he did. But here, spike gets to hold her and kiss her (I love how gentle the head kiss here is).
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After all, to him, Buffy will always be a beautiful, glowing existence, whether she becomes the literal sunrise or not.
Bringing this back to the family theme that I started this post off with, I like how we see the characters that existed on the periphery of Buffy’s family (Anya, Tara - who is implied to be alive still in Issue #4, and Spike - for the TV show run) being the key characters to make up Buffy’s new family in this mini. Or, at least, that is the implication I got. 
Family and the love, trust, and communication that is supposed to come with it, is something I feel Buffy really struggled with through the whole series. In the TV show and Darkhorse timeline, I feel that Buffy finally worked through all that, and got to a place of comfort and true found family in Season 10.
In this timeline, with this Buffy, I feel that she never got there. So now we are seeing her finally reaching that point. Her actively choosing to live and live as a non-Slayer, but with a family and life that will be decidedly not normal, is really beautiful too, and adds nice closure to Buffy’s constant struggle for “being normal” that we saw TV show! and Darkhorse! Buffy consistently being conflicted about. 
As I’ve stated, I know that this a non-canon comic, and that it is short piece that kind of just drops us into this AU, but I like that aspect and think it packed a lot of interesting themes and ideas into just four issues. Unlike Season 12 (Darkhorse), which was also only four issues long, the series doesn’t allow itself to get bogged down by focusing on too many different characters and plotlines, and the plot itself is kept rather simple and teasing (in the “there is more that could be written here, but we are just going to leave the rest up to your imagination). 
By keeping the plot self contained, it really allows for a strong focus to be placed on Buffy herself, and to get more of a deep dive into her thoughts, feelings, and mental state of mind/being. Basically, this short mini complements the series very well, even though it takes place in an AU world.
I would absolutely recommend it! Especially if you are a Spuffy fan. Angel is briefly mentioned, but not much time is spent on that relationship or character, and the reason for why that relationship ended up not working out is left unknown (I do have a personal guess, but I won’t post that here, this post is long enough as it is and I feel that would derail things a bit).
Anyway, like I said, I really enjoyed this little mini comic. It’s short, but overall well put together, with a nice look at Buffy as a character herself, and with some great messaging about growing older (especially in regards to a female character). 
I’ve been a bit disconnected from the Buffy comics scene for a bit, so I don’t quite know what’s going on in regards to all that anymore. But I would totally be down for more stuff like this. The Buffyverse is one where AUs naturally exist, so having comics that explore different ones is so fascinating to me. There’s so much potential there! (Pun not intended, I mean it, lol).
Source for Images: Buffy the Last Vampire Slayer, Issues #3 and #4. Written by Casey Gilly and illustrations by Joe Jaro
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angelicgaming1007 · 5 months
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Ophelia and Astarion
If you don't know who Ophelia is check this post
This is my headcanon for her Adventure Act 1
When Ophelia met Astarion she knew right away what he was because of the stench of death on him. Or she knew he was some sort of undead she wasn't certain what kind.
When he revealed his vampiric nature by trying to bite her it was just a regular tuesday for her, she wasn't even surprised, a bit offended that he'd try to do so when they barely knew eachother but not surprised.
When they met the Gur Ophelia was ready to kill the Gur in a heartbeat, She didn't see the undead as monsters, she seen them as family she always had so she didn't like Astarion being in danger.
Ophelia had no issues feeding Astarion because she seen him like she seen her ghouls and zombies, someone to take care of, family, a friend. She wanted to pamper him.
Ophelia would get Astarion random books everywhere they went just to pamper him and gift him things, she would save the fanciest and most elegant clothes when they were pillaging closets and chests just for Astarion.
She banned Garlic from the camp the one time Gale tried to bring any into the camp she tossed it in the nearest river and threatened to shove it up where the sun doesn't shine next time he brings garlic. (Dont worry she loves Gale and isn't mean to him except that one time)
Everytime Wyll makes comments on Astarion, Astarion has to pull her back before she throws a punch because she gets so annoyed with him over it. (She warms up to wyll only when he stops making comments on Astarion)
Sometimes the group would randomly find her eyes glowing talking to spirits and it'd freak them out in the middle of the night. Astarion took amusement in the others reactions and would stay up with her just to watch everyone get spooked. It never failed to be amusing.
The first time she raised a corpse Astarion was upset because he thought the corpse had no free will but she proved she lets her undead think for themselves. (Shes no Cazador)
She trusted him with the necromancy book when they found it wanting him to have a piece of her world delighted he took interest in necromancy because of her.
Act 2
The shadowlands are terrifying for the others but for Ophelia its nothing, she navigates it with ease and takes joy in studying it
When Astarion confesses to her Ophelia has no idea how to take it and resorts to hugs, she has feelings for Astarion too but doesn't realize it. She goes along with it wanting to provide him companionship incase they all die anyways, knowing she cares about him wanting to protect him.
Ophelia confesses that she sees Astarion as family and cherishes him, however she doesn't confess her own love because she hasn't yet realized it.
Act 3
Ophelia finally realizes her feelings and confesses them late. Astarion already knew by how she acts that she has feelings for him but is relieved when she verbalizes them.
They become one of those sickeningly PDA couples
When Astarion and Ophelia confront Cazador, she makes sure this is what he wants. When he asks her for him to Ascend she helps him because she knows from her old Necromancy masters, how horrible it is to be under someones control from the way the Ghouls talked about their masters back then. (She killed her own teachers to free the ghouls and took them as family. Back where she used to live the ghouls are living)
Ophelia eagerly agrees to be a spawn happy to join the world of the dead where all her family is. To be like her ghouls, her zombies, and Astarion. To her its the necromancers dream life.
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allmightydepression · 2 years
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JJK CHAPTER 200 SPOILERS
1. Suguru's retaliation was because of how jujutsu sorcerers were exploited because of their abilities that was given to only the limited few, and yet were treated like shit for all the hell they were put through.
2. Satoru's revelation of changing the jujutsu society from within through education and his students being the same with having not a single ounce of care for the higher ups.
3. Maki's rebellion against her clan of oppressive patriarchal assholes who see them as nothing more than objects to harasss and when they engulf mai is when she finally snaps, from trying to become the leader of the clan to change the clan to becoming a God by killing them all and putting an end to a whole bloodline ,influencing noritoshi of the same of not being a slave to his clan.
4. Nanami's retirement from the corporate world because he knows he's going to be exploited in either worlds, so he might as well work at a place where he could directly ensure that his work is helping the ones who he's close with.
5. Yuki's resolution to eradicate the root cause rather than to kept within the same cycle of fighting curses by the higher ups at the expense of shamans being put through hell.
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And now kenjakus resolve to distribute jujutsu sorcerers as an energy resource for the the rest of the countries to exploit from, because he knows humanity's greed.
To simply see cursed energy is a resource that is inately there within the shamans, and cursed spirits are born out of humanity's negative emotions, and the only reason they're ready to take out the last barrier protecting them is because of the greed of few without even the consultation of the jujutsu sorcerers, much like how the environmental crisis works.
Gege represents the real life issues of the oppressive societal system that people are currently living through as a continual theme of the series, not only stopping there but showing how the sanity is driven out of people because of the same unapologetically and truthfully, and I love him for that .
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thatonebirdwrites · 4 months
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Finally! this chapter took longer than I meant to take. But it had a lot of working parts honestly.
Excerpt from halfway through the chapter:
Mako smiled. “I hope so. But what about you? Why did they call you in for a tribunal? Everyone’s being hush hush on it.” 
Asami sighed. “You know the Blue Spirit?” When Mako nodded, Asami continued, softly, “I made the suit. A few days ago the Blue Spirit rescued Prince Wu, who was being held captive in his own palace drugged up. Kya spent the last few days detoxing him.” 
“Spirits, that’s…” Mako shook his head. “Wow. Okay. So do they think you did it?”
Asami shrugged. “Does it matter? I made the suit. I don’t regret my actions. Prince Wu needed help. He’s seeking asylum right now.” She jerked her thumb toward the doors. “I’m waiting for my turn, I guess? I found very little information on what a tribunal consists of, so I’m entering this blind.” She grimaced, annoyed and frustrated. She preferred to research the issue and be prepared for anything they could throw her way. But the tribunals described in Tenzin’s library failed to give her any useful clues as to how Republic City would handle them. 
“It’s new still. Recently passed law to help with potential crimes due to high profile individuals. That’s all I know.” Mako gave her a wan smile. “I'm sure you’ll do okay. You always know what to say in tough situations.” 
“I usually am well-prepared with plenty of research. If I cannot research in time, I at least had Korra or one of you at my side.” Her thoughts drift back to the World War, where much of her talks with the Senate had Korra at her side. It felt strange and unnerving to be here without her girlfriend. “I really miss her,” Asami admitted softly.
“You’ll see her soon, right?” Mako reached out to squeeze her shoulder. “And she keeps in touch with you. Wish she’d write me back, but she hasn’t yet.” 
“It’s hard for her to even do our check-ins,” Asami said with a heavy sigh. “She’s doing better though.” At least she hoped so. 
The doors to the Senate’s chamber opened and a clerk dressed in red and gold tunic stepped out and bowed at Asami. “The Senate is ready for you. Please follow.” 
“Good luck,” Mako said. His smile was tight, his arched eyebrows scrunched with worry.
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bapydemonprincess · 1 year
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"There is no power in this world which can stop me from taking you away. All you have to do is say yes."
with whatever ship you'd like <3
(Hope you don't mind I not only chose Sebagrelle but actually only did part of that prompt for uhhh.. the sake of making sense.. to me, of course. hetrjdyfk 🙈 But I hope despite maybe some typos and confused wording you'll be happy @cangrellesteponme! )
Grelle glowered at the same droll bright white bland walls she'd had to stare at for the past three hours..
...Had it been three hours?? Maybe four...
Damn she was really losing her mind here, and not in a good way!
The red haired reaper had found herself truly trapped this time; though there were a few small instances her fighting spirit returned and insisted there must be a way out... It was beginning to truly look all for naught this time around.
Of course this was what the Higher Ups considered "Just" Punishment for Grelle's recent "misbehavior"..
Which had happened to include tearing two reapers to shreds that had personally gone after Sebastian Michaelis, on a foolish attempt at a demon hunt!
What lead those little dumb bastards into thinking they could try getting the upper hand on Sebas-- and not only on him, but him with Grelle at his side at the time --was beyond her.
To be honest she still thought they deserved their demise!
However..
That didn't solve the current issue at hand which was now that Grelle was well and truly caught like a rat, to be watched day and night by guards this time, to make sure she well and truly stayed put.
And certainly didn't think to go gallivanting off to see demons in secret like she had been.
But oh, no matter how long Grelle was in here, no matter how long she'd find herself pinned into a corner, squirming under scrutiny..
It had been worth it.
For that last lovely date with her dear dark dove had been absolutely divine.
Nothing but them and the stars above.. fields of flowing grass rustling in the wind.. a blanket... some wine....
"Oi, come on then, guys, pack it up. It's a shift change!"
There was a small commotion happening right outside the little self contained make-shift jail cell, two new reapers arriving to apparently change guard shifts..?
Wait a minute...
A second into the yammering of the one explaining this change, Grelle recognized the voice!
Ronald???
Ronald Knox was dressed just as the guards he was arguing with, looking very serious business about this, despite the very idea that a reaper who was such a low level rank and the former kohai of the reaper currently being jailed seemed all a bit suspicious.
Despite that even being an odd thing to Grelle herself, she had to give him kudos for pulling off.. whatever this was.
And.. who was this other fellow apparently beside him? Also in a guards uniform, but looking extra.. off...
His head was tilted downward, his guard cap hiding his eyes mostly, but just beneath the rim, Grelle could see bits of black bangs framing his pale visage.
Must be a serious customer, ready to actually do this whole guarding thing...
At least, that's what Grelle assumed....
Until the two old guards finally gave in with a little confused huff and left, and Ronald and the other fellow marched in single file, and were in the room for about fifteen seconds as the thick solid metal door slowly groaned shut.
And then suddenly the handcuffs on the imprisoned reaper were off.
Grelle only had a few seconds of time to process the new, tall dark fellow had instantly destroyed them some mysterious way, before she suddenly also processed...
He was in front of her instead of standing at the door.
He was kneeling down to her sitting level.
The gloved hands that had somehow eliminated those handcuffs were on her hands.
Grelle stared at first into a cap-shielded face, before the man finally actually looked at her.
And all Grelle could see was the relieved but harried red vision of Sebastian Michaelis.
"I am here to get you out of here.. Rufina.."
"Sebastian...!" Grelle couldn't see then, her vision fogged by her own blasted tears, but she felt his warm, smooth face in her hands as she'd finally lifted them to touch it.
"So, we're bailin' right now, right??" Ronald practically barked, eyes shooting from the two reunited lovebirds at the bench to the door, knowing there was likely only MINUTES before this would be ruined if they didn't GET OUT NOW!!
"I.. I suppose... B-But, Sebas, they'll try to get you-"
"You think I'm worried about more of those fools trying to take me down? They can try.."
"Oh Bassy, you're so stubborn, you know! I love it but you shouldn't underestimate them!"
"Grelle," Sebastian said firmly, suddenly cupping her face in his hands and making her look into his gaze as well as she could.
"There is no power in this world which can stop me from taking you away. I'll always find you."
Grelle found herself losing her ability to see again, all she could do was hear her own voice sobbing out the demon's name, as well as Ronald yelling again.
"Let's go," Sebastian was purring practically as he'd stood, and lifted Grelle right up too, proceeding to carry her bridal style.
Then Grelle saw the lovely colors and sparks of a Reaper portal, knowing it was indeed Ronald, her kohai, opening it to help them.
And in they went, to somewhere back to Earth, and away from those droll bright white walls, those black suits, and those laws.
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