#< going to start using that tag because it seems like they're releasing the whole season in clips

[cuntylouis]

LESTAT IN THE CUCK CHAIR

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Hi !!!! I’m sorry if this is bothering you and if so you can totally ignore this but…

I’ve been thinking about how Ghost would react to reader gradually pulling away from him because she gained some weight and is self conscious and ashamed and doesn’t want to be seen by him, so sculpted and beautiful… but of course he’s feeling low because he wants to be close to reader and so he asks and she finally explains it to him (ready to be broken up with…)…. And I’d love to read your take on it !

You can make it female or gender neauteal I don’t really care !!!! Thank you anyway ❤️❤️❤️❤️

Wildflowers Grow in Ruins

(Ghost x F!Reader, word count: 5 k)

Summary: Reader tries to break up with Ghost because she thinks she's not good enough for him.

Tags/warnings: FLUFF, soft sensual smut 🔞, hurt/comfort, light angst, Jealous!Ghost, Soft!Ghost, self-loathing & self-body shaming. Good girl talk/praise kink. Reader is female and wears a skirt for smut plot purposes.

A/N: I hope you like this take & I hope you don't mind that I tweaked this request just a little bit!) Also: JFC I'm wordy. The "I need to explain why they're fucking!" meme comes to mind every time I write anything.

Wars are exhausting. 

You know fighting for something can empower people. Fighting against something usually just depletes your strength.

But waging a war against yourself… 

Now that is pure hell. 

It started somewhere in your youth. You thought adulthood would take it away; that reason and tolerance would take it away. You were supposed to feel more confident in yourself, more positive about life. And for a moment, you thought you might just succeed.

But standing beside a god of war is no easy feat.

He came into your life like a walking myth, swept you away, and you only laughed as you went. It was fun at first. He was supposed to be your savior, the solution to all your problems. If a man like him found you attractive, perhaps it was the world that was crooked and not you.

But then you got soft: you started to gain pounds. Meanwhile, he became even more magnificent. It reminded you that it had all been just a dream.

Perhaps it was his eyes that seemed to worship you, that seemed to look past your every flaw. Perhaps it was the hands which never seemed to get enough of your skin. Whatever it was, it was too much. And at the same time, never enough.

The day has finally come to let him go.

You think yourself heroic. It's like it should be: it's only right that you finally release him to someone better than you.

But inside, the noble feelings twist and turn and curl around your throat and stuff your stomach full of ice - the kind they fill glasses of mojito with. The drink you'll always remember him by because he teased you about it: that you wanted an ice-cold summer drink even in the middle of winter.

Now you feel cold all over, and wish he could warm you like he used to. 

You would forsake all the mojitos of the world to keep him. You would renounce the whole drink if it came to that; if you could make him yours.

But he's not yours. He never was: he was just on loan to give you a taste of what it would be like to have a man like him. That taste should be more than enough for a lifetime. You should feel grateful.

So why is it so hard to let go?

The key on the front door turns, and your heart shoots up your throat: you're supposed to settle this thing once and for all. You're supposed to let go of him today. 

And still, when he arrives, you can't find the courage to say what you need to say. The words are stuck in your throat, but tears are not. He should already be a memory, but you find yourself suffocating on memories as you cry. You've learned to do even that in silence, like the rest of your suffering.

You take a few deep breaths, wipe the tears away, shove the rest of them down your throat – you save them for later, later, when he's far away and you can finally curl up and cry your heart out without no one there to look. Fucking later.

Good. 

Good.

Great.

You put your heaviest armor on. It protects weak and soft flesh because you can't meet him all bare. Then you step forward with the knowledge that you’re a thoroughly wounded guerrilla while he is a seasoned, well-rested veteran. The fight is nowhere near even, but it's ok. You are not meant to be in the presence of immortals anyway.

The man looks at you warily as you finally enter the room. That haunted look has followed you for some time now as the distance between you has grown. 

It should be easy, what is about to come, because he hasn't touched you in weeks. You haven't wanted him to.

Or you have… But it's not easy to have his hands on you when your body is only a vessel you hate. How can you even think about pleasure when all you think about is how it must feel for him to caress something as awful as this?

The man is a vision, and he settles for a peasant. It should be against the law, but it's not… so you figured a some time ago that you should simply find the strength and grace to do ii: do what's right.

"I need to talk to you." 

Your voice comes out neutral, and it makes you more confident, if only for a second or two.

He lifts his chin: already knows what's coming, because he's not stupid. You've been shutting down for weeks, and he hasn't done much about it. But when the thunder rolls in, he doesn't flee. Probably because he fears nothing.

"Go ahead then," he says, equally as neutral, equally as icy. Got his armor on, too. 

This should be easy…

It's really not, so you decide to rip the band-aid off in one yank.

"I think we should go separate ways."

The following inhale from across the room pierces the air like a bullet. You can hear his breaths gain depth and speed all the way to where you're standing.

"Ok."

It doesn't look or sound like he's ok. If anything, he looks like he's trying to process the sudden storm. 

"Ok…" His eyes are on the floor as he rubs the back of his neck. Then he starts to pace around the little kitchenette you've shared for almost six months, just before you started gaining weight.

He stops to look out the window, then turns to you, and the hurt in his stare comes through like a thousand needles pushing through skin.

"Is it because of my work?" 

"No."

"What is it then?"

Your breaths are getting out of hand, too. He looks like a lost, tired creature in an abandoned animal shelter for a moment, and it breaks your heart. It squeezes the organ inside a flaming fist until it shatters like it has never been nothing more than ice.

Your lip starts to tremble, and he notices, as per usual. Nothing escapes this man, except perhaps the true reason for your anguish.

"Hey. Hey."

He comes to you and hugs you like it's the only thing that matters: to comfort you when he sees you're about to cry, no matter how crushed he's feeling himself. The sudden warmth, the intimacy after weeks and weeks of pain is knee-buckling. 

"Is there anything I can do to change your mind?"

His voice is soft, so soft… The tears rush forth now; there's no way of stopping them. What the hell can you even say to a question like that? That you wish he could grab a magic wand and turn you into someone gorgeous, the woman he deserves?

His embrace feels good, kind of. It also feels smothering because your self-hate makes you want to disappear from existence entirely. His eyes are equal to physical touch, a probing scan that sees every little flaw, not to talk about massive faults, the ones which make you feel like you're simply disgusting. His touch only reminds you how you must feel like to him: soft, too soft, weak.

And he must hate weakness.

"What do you need me to do? I'll do anything," he tries with a parched throat, then swallows. 

It's fucking horrible. This isn't going at all like you had imagined.

"It's not about you," you struggle out of his hold, and he lets you go with reluctance. You have to basically fight your way out of a bone and steel prison. Why would he even want to hold a pathetic woman who's on the brink of ugly crying on top of everything?

"What do you mean?"

He's slightly breathless – and restless as fuck. He's usually so calm; nothing can get to him, nothing can rattle the tower of raw strength. Now you've not only pierced some invisible armor; you can hear pieces of it falling on the floor.

"Have you found someone else?"

What the…

"No." You put as much weight on that word as you possibly can. To imagine that he thinks you are cheating… Fucking cheating on someone like him. "Jesus Christ…"

He takes a deep breath and sighs deeply, sighs out relief, perhaps. Then his razor-sharp stare fixes on you again, and you can see the fear turning into something akin to concern. You suspect you have to tell him the truth, otherwise he will dig it out of you. 

"I'm just…" 

Jesus, this is just humiliating. 

"I'm just not your type."

"What the hell are you talking about," he mutters, the impending fury giving way to momentary surprise. 

He gets intense sometimes. This time, the ferocity is born of barely concealed distress. He's broad and magnificent, even in despair. He’s just so fucking fine… The perfect man, someone you had never even imagined yourself with. Pulled down to the world of puny mortals, evidently stressing about losing one. 

Losing you.

"If you have someone new, you can just bloody well tell me."

"It's not that. You don't understand–" 

"Try me."

"I just…" A tear escapes down your face as you finally break for him. "I'm fat. Okay? And ugly. And–"

"Stop right there."

The look on his face is just… It's priceless, you suppose.

"Bloody fucking hell…" 

He looks at the floor, then runs his fingers through the short cut hair on top of his head. You've yanked those blonde strands more times than you can count, nearly every time he's been between your legs, and you miss it – you long for it, like fallen angels long for heaven. 

And if there was a time this man was rendered speechless, you would say you were witnessing that moment right now. His brows knit together, then he looks up at you again with blaring disbelief.

"You're serious?"

"Yes."

"This is the reason you wanna break up?"

Ugh.

"Yes?"

His voice grows rougher with every question until it resembles thunder, and you suspect this is the commanding tone his soldiers are used to hearing. 

But you're not: it's gravelly, harsh, and betrays the feeling of having been insulted. You feel even more devastated with yourself – it appears you can do nothing right.

"Where has this… idea even come to your head?"

"I don't know." 

"And you never thought to ask my opinion?"

"Would you please stop yelling," you whisper and blink back some putrid tears. His mouth is snapped shut, his head pulls back just a little as he realizes what he's done. 

"Sorry," he says with a half-whisper, and you catch the strain in his throat. You've never seen him cry, but now his voice is suddenly thin and frail. "I'm sorry."

He takes a step, then another, places fingertips on the counter as if to take the faintest support.

"Can I touch you?"

You don't really want him to do that, but you feel pity for the man. He's trying to find a way through this mess, and you want to help him.

"Yes," you whisper, and he immediately comes and takes you in his arms again. Hot tears disappear into his shirt, and you sniff a few times. He feels so good, so safe, even when you're about to lose him. His hold tightens around you, and the kitchen is silent; the whole world is silent. You don't know if you're being put to a grave or if you're in a deaf womb, waiting to be reborn.

"Now I don't know who's said this shite to you but ugly is the last fucking thing I'd call you," he declares above you. As if it was some bully whose fault it is that you were this way, a bully he could deal with with his fists or a gun. If only things were that easy…

"Have I said or done something? To make you feel this way?"

Then the blade is turned against himself. The man desperately searches for a culprit so he can deal with them.

"No," is the only thing you can say because it's true: he has never done a thing to make you feel like you weren't good enough; quite the contrary. But then again, he doesn't have to. It's enough that he exists and resembles a god.

"Then why do you think you're not my type?"

"Because you're so perfect," you hear yourself wail, no, cry into that shirt that smells of sweet safety and familiar musk – his scent, another thing you have missed like it's the only way to heaven.

"That for sure ain't true."

"But it is."

He seems to have the utmost difficulty in grasping what the issue here is. You can almost hear the wheels turning in his head with a rusty, laborious creak.

"Can't believe you wanna break up because of this," he finally says. You've chipped his pride, the ego that lives off of pleasing the ones he loves: the few chosen ones who he wants to give his whole life to. 

"To me, you're perfect," he then says, and you simply… You stop breathing. "You're like… my dream woman. Ever thought about that?"

It can't be true, even if you vehemently, desperately want it to be. You reach out to his words like they're precious food after years of famine. Like they're sun and spring rain after being buried in the cold, dark soil whole winter.

"No…?"

"Never occurred to you that I might find you fucking beautiful?"

"Stop," you whisper, because it's too much to take in. He sounds so serious, so sincere.

"No, I don't think I will."

He pulls back a little and cups your face. Brushes away a tear, looks at you with so much love that it physically hurts; you feel like it's a lance that slowly drives through your heart.

"How about I kiss every part I love about you?"

You let out a soft little whimper. Fuck, that you want him to… 

It would also be uncomfortable as hell. To try and let him love you and your body, which you have grown to loathe.

"It's gonna take all night, though. Wanna be as thorough as possible."

"Simon–"

"Love. I want you. Thought I'd made it pretty clear, but apparently I haven't. If you only knew how much–"

He sighs deeply. The man is frustrated with his shortcomings, thinks that this is all his fault. You cry a tear or two just for the sake of how absurd it all is. 

"I don't want you to go. I fucking love you. Everything about you."

For the second time this afternoon, your lower lip starts to tremble as if this was some stupid, romantic movie. He can be so soft when he wants to, more romantic than the soft-spoken gentlemen in Jane Austen's novels. It doesn't even require any effort: underneath the cynical surface, there's fiery emotion, so powerful and raw that it almost bleeds out of him. Fuck… Does he even know what he's doing to you?

"I love you too," you whisper back, and the warmth that starts to bloom in his eyes is an entire sun on its own. It's hope, and you believe him, almost believe him.

"Then I'd say it's a bloody bad idea to break up."

You chuckle while few more tears push through to the surface.

"Simon…" You sigh and look back up at him, your armor falling to the floor too. "I feel like a wreck."

You allow him to see the pain, all of it. His breath is sharp as it hits him, but he still doesn't waver.

"Then let me help you."

The arms around you gain more strength, and you're crushed against a chest made of power. He tries to turn shit to gold, and threatens to succeed. You allow yourself to soften in his hold. How good it feels to be supported – no, loved.

"You don't even let me touch you anymore."

It's a filed complaint, but also heart-rending, soul-wrenching longing. You have evaded him for weeks now – hell, this shit began months ago and has escalated gradually, stealthily, until the moments together were a rarity, the space between you was full of frost; and not the crispy, happy summer drink kind.

"I thought you'd found someone else. Could've found out if that was the case in minutes, but honestly, I didn't wanna know."

Oh my God…

Has he lived with a growing suspicion and dread all these months? 

That would explain why he has avoided you too…

He has allowed you to go to your supposed lover, has given you space to be alone and without too much attention. The man has shielded himself from pain. 

Jesus fucking Christ.

"I'm so sorry," you say with a strained little breath. "I swear it's nothing like that. I just… I feel like a mess."

"Never seen such a gorgeous mess." 

He speaks on your skin, the kiss on your forehead feels like an absolution. 

Then you notice it's not only his words which try to assure you. He's growing harder by the minute against your stomach, just from a simple hug. Just from being pressed against you like this, after weeks of dry, bitter longing.

"Miss your taste," he murmurs to your skin, his voice like sand wrapped in burning velvet. "The sounds you make when you want it hard."

Oh God–

"Miss your smile when we go to shower after."

"Hmh…"

"Don't wanna live without that smile."

You don't have to. 

God, you don't have to…

"How about we make a deal," he draws fingers down your chin, coaxing you to look up at him. His eyes are stripped from the cold distance that greeted you just moments ago: now they are filled with warmth that spreads to your chest and belly and bones. You drink him in like summertide.

"You come to me every time you feel bad and I'll make you feel good. Alright?"

"...Ok." 

He tilts his head a little to the side, not entirely satisfied with your shy little answer.

"Come on. Make me believe it."

"It's a deal," you say with more grit to it, even if you're nearly crying again, this time from relief.

"That's my girl."

Oh fuck…

He knows exactly what strings to pull, the good girl talk being one of the things that instantly makes your legs feel like jelly. 

And why does he always have to use that voice when he calls you a good girl or his girl, that sultry smoke that makes you want to swoon until he catches you and carries you to bed?

The man seems to be a mind reader as well, because he sweeps you off your feet and does exactly that: carries you to your bed which has mainly seen silent tears and painful sleep last months.

"Poor thing doesn't even know how lovely she is."

He sounds amused in the face of your darkness: sees it in full and still doesn't fear at all. He's ready to battle your demons for you, and you feel like shaking: from his touch and that voice, from the stress and loneliness that starts to release as he lays you down on the bed.

He looks so different from the man that has haunted this place for the past months, the complete opposite of the reserved soldier retreating into the shadows.

He moves to kiss you, and it's been – what? Weeks since your last kiss? And even that was only a quick peck, nothing like this… Wet, and desperate; a devouring. It makes you clench around nothingness, and you finally surrender. 

No one can fake such fervor.

You try to accept it: accept the fact that even if you hate yourself, he does not. For some reason, he adores you. His breaths hit your face hot and urgent, and he can't keep his hands to himself anymore. They wander over your waist and hips, they even risk to steal a feel of your breasts, and then he groans in your mouth.

"I've missed you. Fuck, I've missed you..."

You taste notes of burning leaves; tobacco, his only weakness. You fantasize on the thought that you might be another weakness, too.

"Remember when I fucked you in my office?"

"I've missed you too," you utter softly in between the kisses that threaten to turn into a sloppy mess. "So much..."

He smiles at that, and it makes you weak, even when lying down like this.

"Yeah…?"

"You were so loud I had to put a hand over your mouth."

His voice is thick as he laughs a short chuckle. Your inner walls clench again at the sound, you throb among the warm syrup surrounding you.

"Never seen you so wet. Almost dripped all over my gear."

"It's that stupid mask you wear," you hear yourself breathe like you've just been underwater. Feel yourself throb some more, feel a burning sensation in the nether areas from the scorched desert turning wet again. You want him so much that it actually hurts down there.

"Knew you'd like it. That's why I kept it on."

If this man keeps talking, your underwear is going to be utterly ruined. And of course he does; of course he continues to pour more love in your ear.

"Everyone looked at you like you were a queen," he grunts in your ear, sounding almost… pissed.

"Don't be ridiculous," you try to form sensible words. It's only a faint breath, really, but he huffs at your modesty. 

"You don't have eyes in the back of your head, love."

Wow… He is a bit pissed.

Had they checked your ass out when you visited him? 

It was the first and, what you thought, the last time you got to visit him at his workplace… but you never would have guessed the reason for him not asking you to visit again would be jealousy. 

"Don't worry. I put those fuckers in their place after you left." 

Whoa. 

Ok…

First, he had fucked you senseless in his office – a highly inappropriate move for a man in his position – then got jealous because some soldiers had checked you out as you left with his cum practically dripping from your cunt.

You put yourself in his shoes for a moment: he's had to live with thoughts of you running to some other man's arms when he's not home, and then watch you waltz around his workplace after making what was supposed to be the last effort to make him love you… When he has loved and adored you this whole time, has watched the sway of your ass with the rest of those home-deprived, horny soldiers, thinking you had fallen out of love and were on your way to go see some other guy.

Had he invited you there to try and win you back, too? By showing himself to you in all his puffed up, masculine glory? A desperate man in a skull mask, hoping to get love from you…

There's so many misunderstandings; they rip your throat. A sob escapes, and he stops his caress.

"Love… Tell me to stop if you–"

"No. No, I don't want you to stop." 

Your request comes out with such demand that he hesitates only a second or two. Then he moves on top of you and tugs your skirt up. You don't even have time to realize what is happening before he has worked himself out of his pants.

He's hard and heavy between your legs, and your eyes go wide as you realize he's not going to bother to take your briefs off. He just slides a hand under the skirt and draws the fabric aside, and the fat tip of him is pushed in the middle almost clumsily. It's hot, and slips down to your opening with ease.

Oh f–

"Been jerking off to you nearly every night at the base," he says just before he pushes himself in. 

"Uh–...."

Your thighs spread wide as he fills you slowly, inch after inch. The sound that leaves him is starved: a dry, painful sigh. He's been waiting for this for god knows how long, and you're just as hungry to take him in. He seems endless, the way he finally works himself fully inside, spreading you even wider as the thickening base of his cock reaches its end. 

"Thought you were getting railed by someone else while I only get to fuck my hand."

"Oh god…"

There's really nothing else to say as his balls press against you, heavy and taut. He's not going to last long.

"Yeah. Imagine that," he admits, breathless like you. 

You look at him with what must be the most helpless stare of longing in your eyes. Then he moves, and you want to grip him to keep him inside. The first thrusts are divine, they're pure heaven, and your head sinks deep into the pillow as you try to get enough air, try to not scream from pleasure already. Somehow, all you are able to utter is a desperate little whisper.

"Simon–"

His cock is good enough to bring tears to your eyes. You're starving too, you're pulling him in with fierce hunger, and he groans, then nearly falls forward, his weight pressing against you, swallowing you, until you feel like you're an idiot for thinking that you're too big. The thickness of his chest rubs against you as he makes love to you with passion that echoes the first times you did this.

"Just wanna adore you, love." He's panting desperate somewhere above you. A god and a man, both furious and gentle. "I wanna adore you. Just like this."

You answer him with what must be those sounds he told you about, the sounds you make when you want it hard. 

You want him to fuck you, to wreck you after weeks of loneliness and hate. To love you until you break into a million pieces.

"Simon," you whisper. "...Love me."

He halts, huffs in your neck. It's almost a sob. There's so much emotion and desperation in the air that it could be scooped up and sold in the streets.

"Always," he rasps in your ear, then moves to kiss you again. "Always."

The promise echoes around you, it coats your lips as he loves you with all he has. It's been so long, and he feels so good that you nails dig into his shirt, his shoulder, you try to hold onto him even though he's the wave that rocks you.

"You feel that?" He goes deep; he's out of breath and desperate, even more desperate than you. "That's love. You feel it, yeah?"

"Yes," you sob in his shoulder, tears trying to escape your waterline as you're going dumb from the pure sensation, the sensuality of it all. 

"That's it, love. That's a good girl," he turns to your neck and gruffs in your ear as you whimper and moan. "Always such a good girl."

Shit…

"I, I'm gonna…"

Your legs wrap around his middle, your muscles twitch and your hands reach and grab – they claw and yank and tug everything they can: his back, shoulders, shirt, something sturdy to keep you from drowning in a glorious orgasm.

He laughs in your neck and continues to grind you through your climax even when you're shattering, sighing, moaning, writhing under him. He just laughs, the man who never laughs: from witnessing you respond to him calling you a good girl.

Fucking bastard…

Lovable, infuriating bastard who knows you to your core. 

You're an overstimulated heap by the time he comes as well, not long after you, but long enough to make you feel like you're only a tender bunch of nerves. Your legs have fallen to the side, he has open access to take what he needs: you, your love, all of it.

His whole middle goes tense as he cums, he groans and swears somewhere deep into your neck, rolls his hips over and over again like it's a must that his balls press against you with every thrust that shoot his load. 

Then he falls slack, nearly collapses on top of you, reminding you of what it feels like to be small under a giant like him. You're throbbing together, you're full and fulfilled, and he is still lodged deep inside you, panting and broken in a sweat.

"Jesus Christ…" 

He sounds dazed. 

Relieved. 

"Should've done this weeks ago."

You laugh at seeing him so done – a man in love, torn by jealous yearning, finally taking what's his. You stroke his neck, his back – it's so good to have him finally there… So close, with no barriers in between.

"I should've talked to you weeks ago..." 

"Yeah. You should have."

"Are you going to punish me?" You giggle a little – the flirt is light and frees your heart further from its recent jail. He moves to look at you with all the tenderness there is. It's too much... His love is too much. But you won't run from it anymore.

"Nah. Think I'm gonna spoil you some more."

He spoils you right away with a kiss. You surrender to his treatment with happiness: happy tears, even. 

The medicine to your anguish has been the exact opposite to what you had first tried, what you had originally thought. The true remedy for your sickness is mercy. Perhaps some spoiling…

And love.

[voidarchivefiles]

Ancient void practices

I went through some success stories and tagged the ones that entered the void through yoga nidra and lucid dreaming cos these two ancient practices have always fascinated me since they're deeply centred around our state of consciousness and are also known portals to out of body experiences/shifting/the void. Read them if you need some motivation! Also see my recent post on lucid dreaming if you're interested in entering the void through that.

Anyway, if you have doubts about the void, I think a great anchor is leaning into practices that have roots dating back to ancient times and researching them and of course, reading more widely than just Tumblr. When you do this, you'll know that this state isn't something that was invented by Tumblr and has existed since.. forever because well, it's pure consciousness lol. And the void/turiya/samadhi has been known way before Neville's time. From my research, it's the main goal of yoga practitioners as well but they pursue it for the purpose of enlightenment and peace as opposed to manifesting desires.

The rest of this post is a dump of interesting excerpts from my research on yoga, samadhi and turiya and its links to manifesting, reality shifting and the void state. You can also do your own research although there's no need to overdo it :)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This extract seems to be talking about reality shifting/manifesting/instant creation. I am curious on where we could learn more about yogis doing this!

Trapped in Your Own World Many yogis have created their own worlds and been trapped in realities like this. I am going into an area which is a twilight zone, but there are many yogis who have created their own world around themselves. A yogi goes into a cave and actually creates his own universe and lives there. This is not a joke. He creates everything that he wants – his own kind of planets, his own kind of earth, his own kind of everything – and lives there very happily. A universe is contained inside the cave. You can create a whole universe in an atom’s space because “here and there” and “this much and that much” are a creation of the mind. There are many yogis like this, but they are no closer to realization than you. He lives in a different world, that is all. He is probably more caught up than you, because he is also the creator. He has learned the art of creation. This does not become an ultimate release. This just becomes a different kind of action, a different way of doing things. An artist draws a new world on a canvas. A yogi actually creates it. The artist’s creation is two-dimensional, whereas the yogi’s is three-dimensional. This is more deceptive. An artist can get so involved in the world he is creating that he starts believing it is true, and it is true for him. A poet believes that whatever he writes is the truth. Similarly, a painter deeply involved in what he is doing believes what he is painting is the truth. When two-dimensional things are like this, if you create three-dimensional things around yourself, you are definitely going to be more caught up with them. Source

To be honest, I have no idea what the difference is between samadhi and turiya in yoga terms. I tried looking into it but it's still not clear to me. If you research into both terms, they come up with very similar definitions.

Yoga nidra and the void (turiya)

By means of Yoga Nidra, skilled practitioners seek to access Turiya, not just when in meditation or absorbed samadhi states, but in all variations of consciousness- encompassing waking, dreaming and deep sleep. They seek lucidity in all states. Yoga Nidra is a powerful practice that guides us beyond mind and in fact turns mind upon itself where its obscuring nature is dissolved to reveal the inner Light that is perennially Bright, with eyes closed or open. Source

What is turiya?

Source: Radiant Rest: Yoga Nidra for Deep Relaxation and Awakened Clarity by Tracee Stanley

Turiya is not a state apart from the grosser states but pervades all levels of reality as superconsciousness. Ramana Maharshi interprets turiya as the natural state that permeates the other states, the only whole reality. The Mandukya Upanishad discusses turiya as pure consciousness, which is indescribable, incomprehensible, and unthinkable by the mind, but ultimately realized as the one true self. Source

The four states of consciousness are jagrat, svapna, shushupti and turiya. Jagrat is waking consciousness, svapna is the dream consciousness, shushupti is the deep sleep consciousness and turiya is higher consciousness which is beyond all previous states. Entering the state of turiya requires inner silence. It can be achieved when the mind is free of mental blocks and bondages with time and space. The goal of yoga and meditation is to achieve turiya, where oneness is felt with the universe. Source

There are three states only, the waking, dream and sleep. Turiya is not a fourth one; it is what underlies these three. But people do not readily understand it. Therefore it is said that this is the fourth state and the only Reality. In fact it is not apart from anything, for it forms the substratum of all happenings; it is the only Truth; it is your very Being. The three states appear as fleeting phenomena on it and then sink into it alone. Therefore they are unreal. Source

[stillbeatingheart]

thought about burning the past

Also on Ao3

Harringroveson AU: Billy is a cat, Eddie is a bat, and Steve is just trying to keep everyone alive now that they're back to being that way.

Fic under the cut (I don't see any warnings that would apply, but this would be established poly relationship, post Upside Down)

A big orange cat paw stretches out and pins the chirping bat to the carpet.  

“Knock it off,” Steve warns as he kicks off his shoes.  When he walked up to the door it had sounded like a herd of buffalo in here.  He’s been amazed more than once at how much noise these idiots can make, even in forms that should be quiet and agile.  

The bat squeaks and the cat reaches out with his right paw to whack the bat before he releases him.  The orange cat sprawls out on his belly in the strip of sun on the floor, licking his paw and running it across his head before laying both paws out in front of him, kneading the carpet and kicking out his back legs.

“Are you proud of yourself?” Steve wonders towards the cat.  The cat flips his tail in response, rests his chin on his paws and closes his big blue eyes.

“Of course you are,” he mutters and he stoops down to offer the bat his open palm.  The bat looks disgruntled but unwounded as he hops up into Steve’s hand. “Don’t act innocent in all this either,” he warns the bat, “I know you most likely started it.”

The bat squeaks in response, shakes like he’s flicking the dirt of the afternoon off his coat, and then tucks his wings in close to his body.  

“You won’t dignify that with a response, then?” Steve sighs, brings his hand up to his shoulder to let the bat climb on.  

“I’m out there all day earning money to pay the bills, working my fingers to the bone, and here you two are just playing a game of tag.  It’s like you don’t even care if you ever go back to your human form.” 

The bat squeaks, nudges against the side of Steve’s throat with his face.  The cat opens one eye, his ear twitches and then he closes it.  

“What if I kicked you out?  Would that change your drive to figure this shit out?”

Eddie squeaks again, Billy flops over to his side and flips his tail.

“I suppose no one cooked dinner either,” Steve says as he makes his way towards the kitchen. “What’ll it be tonight? Insect soup with a mouse chaser?”

Eddie makes a coughing noise right next to Steve’s ear and Steve snorts.  He reaches for a can of soup and dumps it into a pot, firing up the stove, he crosses his arms over his chest and leans against the counter.  Eddie’s body weight is shifting from foot to foot on Steve’s shoulder and he knows he wants to tell him something but they’ve yet to figure out a way to communicate.  

Sure, this whole thing seems a little like Steve’s fault but he doesn’t regret it.  He’d been asking the world in general for his boyfriends to return from the Upside Down and reiterating plenty of times in his most distressed states that he didn’t care how they came back or how they’d changed, just that they came back.  He tried witchcraft in his more desperate hour, and well, it worked he supposes because now they’re back.  And not really human.  It’s not like some Pet Cemetery thing or whatever, they aren’t zombie animals, they aren’t blood thirsty or taking any opportunity to bite Steve and eat his flesh.  They’re actually kind of really fucking adorable, but he’s not going to say that to either of them.  At least not yet, not until they figure out if his foray into spell casting fucked them over for life or if it’s something they can control and shift like a werewolf.  Fictionally speaking.  Steve’s never met a werewolf and used to doubt their existence but in the last couple years he’s decided to just never doubt anything.  If he never doubts anything then he can’t be surprised anymore.  

He hasn't told anyone about this just yet, it seems way too complicated to explain to anyone, including Robin.  Though he feels guilty every time he’s around her and his mind wanders back to home, back to wondering what Eddie and Billy are up to, if they’ve killed each other yet being cooped up inside all day without anyone else for entertainment around. Then again, they did just spend months in the Upside Down with nothing but each other, so they’re probably pretty used to it.  

He also knows the first thing anyone is going to ask is how exactly he knows it’s them.  It’s just some random cat and some random bat that have come into his home and he’s crazy enough to believe it’s Billy and Eddie, like the truth is he’s fallen into some kind of delusional state and he’s truly just building his life around a feline and a mammal.  He can’t really take the chance that he end up in a mental facility and Eddie is put down, Billy put in a shelter.  

Steve’s gaze flicks over to Billy, he’s flipped over to lie on his back.  Showing his belly.  Steve never had pets, so he did a little research at the library.  He knows they aren’t actually animals, so it’s not like he can follow pet owning as a golden rule, but he figures it doesn’t hurt to know about dietary restrictions and body language as much as he can.  So he knows that Billy showing his belly doesn’t mean he wants to be pet there, it just means he’s in a place where he feels safe and he trusts the people he’s around.  Yeah, there’s no way he can allow this cat to end up in a shelter.  Billy would end up getting put down after he bit every single hand that reached for him.

And Eddie, well, he’d either be set free to go live amongst his own.  Or they’d deem him incapable of survival in the wild after being domesticated.  Steve reaches a hand up, scratches Eddie’s tiny furry head.  Eddie leans into it and when Steve drops his hand to get the soup off the stove, he drops from his shoulder.  It’s not enough height for Eddie to actually fly, but he can use his wings to slow himself down and cushion his landing on the counter.  This was something that took some trial and error and a whole lot of Steve catching Eddie in his palm before he could hit the ground and hurt himself.  

Steve pours the warmed soup into a bowl, spoons some of the veggies and chicken out onto a plate.  He calls out towards the sleeping cat, “Billy, food’s ready.”

For Eddie, he cuts a few chunks off an apple and lays them out on the counter beside him.  He squeaks what sounds like thanks, so Steve responds, “You’re welcome.”

Billy’s ear twitched, so he knows the asshole heard him.  But he hasn’t bothered to get up yet. “Well, I’m not bringing it to you, so if you’re hungry eat before it gets cold.  Or eat it cold later, I don’t care.”

Billy stays still, like he hasn’t listened to a word.  Until Steve pulls the stool out at the counter and sits down to eat his own bowl of soup.  Then he’s getting up, stretching long, yawning and sauntering over to rub against Steve’s ankle.  He stands on his back legs, reaching up with his front paws to Steve’s knee.

“Yeah, except that I know you come up here all the time and lick the plates in the sink.  So…” Steve reaches down anyway.  If Billy is seeking touch, then he’s not going to deny him.  He just needs to make it clear that he’s onto him without so many words.  He lifts Billy from under his belly and sets him on his leg, pushes his little china plate over close to the edge so Billy can eat without getting up on the counter.  There's a bat already on the counter, so it’s not like Steve is trying to impress anyone, but it’s kinda nice to have Billy keeping his thigh warm under his fluffy vibrating weight.  

Steve talks them through his day, gives them any theories he has about how to get them back to their human states, while they eat.  Eddie is making it clear he’s listening by giving Steve eye contact and doing this cute little nod thing every so often, squeaking softly like a hum when there’s moments between Steve’s words.  Billy is not offering anything, he’s chowed down his soup and curled up on Steve’s lap.  His tail flipping in a steady rhythm against Steve’s hip the only thing proving he’s even awake anymore.   

When Eddie is done eating, he hops across the counter, climbs his way up Steve’s arm and settles in on his shoulder.  As much as he loves cuddle time, it’d be a lot easier if they’d wait until he was done eating and sitting on something more comfortable than a kitchen stool.  He tells them as much, Eddie nudges his neck and Billy flicks an ear.  Neither of them bother to get up.  

“Isn’t this what you two do all day already?” Steve wonders when he’s done eating and Billy is allowing a head scratching.  Billy sighs and Eddie chirps.  

“Alright,” Steve says after a few moments.  He lifts Billy off his lap and instead of being still and trusting Steve to deliver him to the couch, he jumps down, digging his back claws into Steve’s thigh on the way. It startles Eddie when Steve stiffens under the pinpricks of pain, he dives off Steve’s shoulder and hits the counter with a thump.  Billy hit the ground, went off like a shot and Steve is pretty sure he’s going to hide under the couch all evening.

“You alright?” He asks Eddie, laying his palm out for him to step into.  

Eddie does so, and eagerly accepts the lift to his perch.  The tips of his wings tickle against Steve’s neck when Eddie lays on his belly, using his wings to balance his weight.  

“If this lasts much longer, I’ll have to clue Robin in on it so she can help me mend my wardrobe appropriately.  Little pads on my shoulders for you.  A sling to carry Billy in.”

Eddie squeaks his approval as Steve starts working on the dishes.  

^~^

Steve is already in bed, with Eddie hanging off the curtain rod, by the time Billy makes his way back out from under the couch.  He’s silent on his way into the room, the dim light from the hall slanting across the floor when he pushed the door open.  Steve hears it when he jumps up to the foot of the bed, feels his weight on the mattress.  He’s careful when he puts one paw out to test the waters.  Laying it on Steve’s ankle like an apology for clawing him earlier.  

Steve pats his chest, the place that’s become Billy’s favorite place to spend the night.  Which is equal parts comforting and uncomfortable for Steve, but his warmth and purring outweigh the pressure of his body on Steve’s sternum.  Billy carefully walks the length of Steve’s leg like a balance beam, keeping his claws in and making every footfall light.  It’s impressive even with the careful stepping just how much weight is on each paw.  It’s not like cats are heavy, Billy is kind of a brick of a cat, but he’s still a cat.  

When he walks across Steve’s belly, Steve tightens his muscles to protect himself and to give Billy solid footing.  Also, he can just imagine Billy’s voice saying, “Getting a little soft in the middle Harrington,” if Steve didn’t pull his abs taut for his crossing.  

With all four paws on Steve’s chest, Billy headbutts Steve’s chin.

Steve lifts his hand and strokes Billy’s head, then follows the curve of his spine to his tail before he starts over at his head again.  Billy arches into it, purrs so loud it might as well be the only sound in the room.  It’s always been easier for Billy to offer affection in the cover of darkness, Steve’s not surprised it’d be any different in this form.  

It’s really not hard to fall asleep with Billy’s soft warmth under his hand and against his chin, with that weight on his chest chasing the nightmares away.  By morning Eddie has made himself comfortable tucked into the juncture of Steve’s shoulder and neck.  His tiny puffs of breath tickling Steve’s ear and the undeniable feeling of being stared at are the things that wake him.  Opening his eyes, he’s met with Billy’s big blue ones giving him the unblinking stare that only a creepy ass cat can dole out.  As soon as Steve blinks at him, he’s launching himself off the bed and scampering out the door like his mission has been accomplished just by startling someone out of a deep sleep with only his eyes.  

“Asshole,” Steve mutters, reaching out to slap his alarm before it can go off.  The motion wakes Eddie, who immediately clambers up into Steve’s hair. “Not the hair, man, c’mon,” he grumbles as he pulls himself to seated on the bed to scrub at his face, “Why do I even put up with this?  I gotta get you changed back before you both drive me insane.”

Chapter two

[sixth-light]

WoT 2x08 thoughts

WoT s2 really, I haven't got to blog the season like I would have wanted because (checks notes) everybody in this household has been sick for a month and counting (do not recommend). No order here, just things as I think of them, full series book spoilers possible:

They really did stick the landing on this season for me, as well as line everything up so neatly for next season. I think S2 is really going to reward a rewatch.

Particularly re:Lanfear. I literally choked when she walked up to Bayle Domon and started talking about the pieces of cuendillar she'd sold him. I know the Dark Prophecy is probably still legit because we flashed back to Ishamael reciting it as he released her BUT ALSO I am now imagining her lying on her bed surrounded by screwed-up drafts as she tries to make it sufficiently ominous.

The Forsaken shenanigans this season have just smashed it out of the park and we only had two of them. I presume we're going to highlight one or two a season for practical purposes (and ofc TSR/TFoH are the Moghedien-Nynaeve books) so I reckon next season we mostly get Moghedien and...I guess Asmodean if we're doing that plotline at all?

Man I so liked my "evil Seanchan/less evil Seanchan" theory but the way they ruthlessly killed off every named Seanchan character this episode (yes we didn't see Suroth and Alwhin's bodies, but that seemed pretty fatal, they explicitly did NOT show any ships getting away) says to me that they want to put that plotline on ice until the Corenne and Tuon arrive. It could still work but we'd have to introduce more Seanchan nobles to make it happen...or...they could make the whole Extremely Dysfunctional Imperial Family dynamic real by having one or more of Tuon's siblings tag along. That was a very tell-not-show element of the books and then rendered irrelevant by Semirhage murdering all of them at once.

Extremely out-there theory: the way they're focusing on Moghedien being 'insane' and having Lanfear refer to the rest of the Forsaken as 'the boys' and being visibly wary of Moggy...what if they merge Moghedien and Semirhage? After all, Moggy goes after the Sad Bracelets first even if Semirhage is the one who uses them...

THE POWER OF FRIENDSHIP as that gifset going around demonstrates, this really was the theme of the season. I continue to love how much these kids love each other (and the lingering fear the show has planted that it won't matter, because look where Lews Therin and Ishamael and Lanfear ended up...). Totally bought that they would all just roll with running into each other like that when there was a clear and present threat.

Rand is still so much in his 'just trying to protect my friends' era, poor kiddo, we're going to see that get more and more worn away as the Pattern forces him into bigger and bigger confrontations.

MAT, goddamn, his story took a bit of time to get moving but looking back all the pieces are there. Everything about the knife-on-a-stick sequences was just. fjlkfsdjklfsadjlkfsd. Amazing foreshadowing AND a funny and effective piece of storytelling in the moment. Particularly enjoyed the use of the dagger to open the box with the Horn.

Re: Min's vision: I'm thinking that at some point next season someone will report back to her what actually happened and we're going to see an arc with her learning about her own power and realising that her visions can be partial or metaphorical.

Man I hope Egwene gets lots of nice things next season because this one has been (not unexpectedly) brutal. Completely on board with her killing Renna. I wonder if they're getting rid of the 'sparker/learner' distinction in the show, given what she said to Renna about sul'dam just being very weak in the Power. I also wonder what 'very weak' actually means coming from Egwene, who canonically in the show can hold up against a Forsaken for some length of time (another change I am fine with).

Fascinating to think about Perrin in 2x08, straight-up killing Geofram Bornhald for killing Hopper, vs Perrin in 1x08 deliberately choosing pacifism. I don't actually mind that they gave him some unquestionable culpability here; in the books it was always SO obvious he wasn't in the wrong that it felt silly.

Relatedly, I think what's going on with Nynaeve (to the extent that anything is, she certainly didn't suffer for screentime this season) is that like Perrin her PERSONAL plot actually stalls out around book 8-9 - they're slowburning her block storyline for the same reasons they're slowburning his Wolfbrother one, I reckon. I wouldn't be surprised if she doesn't heal stilling until much later in the show than the equivalent of book 6.

I didn't even notice that we left all the White Tower-related plotlines behind entirely this episode until I got to writing this post. FASCINATED to see where we pick up with Verin, Alanna, Siuan, et al next season...not to mention Liandrin

I haven't even talked about Aviendha! She hasn't had a lot to do beyond be introduced/introduce the concept of the Maidens and the Car'a'carn but it was solid set-up for next season and in line with how much she actually had to do in TDR.

My one big lingering question for this season is whether Ingtar isn't a Darkfriend on the show or whether he IS and they decided that his verbal confession wouldn't happen/work in the show and left it as a subtextual easter egg for book readers. I think both positions are arguable from the text, I'm curious what the intent was.

[batmanfruitloops]

Alright, onto the Joker, given he's very important to this au and diverges the most from cannon typical.

The biggest difference is that first; he's a hero in this alongside Batman, and two; he's autistic. I know there have been some versions that the community autism claims in DC's official content, such as "Batman: The Enemy Within", (anything else?)

I know that Bruce has autism as well sometimes, but given that I don't have autism myself and identify with my own version of Bruce, he's not on the spectrum. That said, Fluffy, my friend who I share this blog with, is autistic, so she's my best example for Joker's behaviors. I'll still try my best to adapt anything if it seems wrong, but it is a spectrum, and I feel alright with what I have so far.

My biggest inspiration for my version of the Joker is the one from "Batman: The Enemy Within", and is also the reason I remembered just how much I love Batman and wanted things to turn out for the better. I found the idea of you being able to help the Joker instead of just letting him be hurt and descend into madness, especially since clowns are meant to be fun and silly! He's by no means perfect, but I found the character development so intruiging.

That was a very long intro, but it's necessary to properly explain Joker as a whole.

The Joker was originally born with the name Arthur to his parents, the Flecks. They didn't treat him very well for being autistic, as well as his own personal beliefs. He loved old movies and circuses, especially the clowns, from a young age. They found that strange. Even more so when he had an interest in wearing makeup. Men can't do that, absolutely not. John also really liked red lipstick specifically, but his mother found the color whoorish and beat him for wearing it, more than just for getting into her makeup. Arthur also couldn't understand why he couldn't like both girls and boys, since they're both nice and attractive. Needless to say he stopped bringing it up after he got in trouble for that too.

Arthur also used to visit Cobblepot park to get away from his parents and be outside. While there, he became friends with Eddie, and they began to visit more often to see one another.

However, when Arthur turned 16, his parents decided that they were tired of dealing with him. After Arthur returned home from school, his parents were waiting for him on the porch. Confused, he asked what was going on, and his father told him to get into the car. Arthur listened, but the knot in his stomach grew as he realized they were driving closer and closer to Arkham. When they parked, he begged and tried to run, but his father grabbed his wrist and yelled at him worse than he ever had. This wasn't a choice. The staff were waiting, and Arthur was promptly handed over to them, and into more tight grips.

Having given the Arkham staff enough money, Arthur was affectively a Fleck no more, instead referred to as John Doe. It became clear pretty quickly that John wasn't going to leave, and the staff had no sympathy for his pleas. Over the next 9 years, John got used to the harsh environment of Arkham. Getting beat up by inmates and staff, not being taken seriously, and still not being given a reason for not being allowed to leave besides "poor behavior" for participating in fights to defend himself. Some of the staff was a bit nicer and offered to give him some kind of reward for behaving well. He chose to have them dye his hair green, since it's his favorite color. Soon after this, John is finally released because he's an adult and the staff has no real reason to keep him there anymore.

It's at about this point that the au starts, since Bruce meeting John is crucial to the beginning.

This one was much longer than Bruce's. His will probably end up being the shortest. I also tried to word things are carefully as possible, but I would appreciate any comments or tags on if I should flag this with any content warnings. And again, I can answer any questions if this was at all confusing.

- Sarsee

[sizzlingpatrolfox]

Hey but jk did say his music is gonna come out after yoongi...and seeing how the company is literally rushing everything it was expected. Jimin did not even got time to promote his music for more than a mere 2 weeks, yoongi came in; yoongi just started with his promotions, now a pic of jk with producers and bang pd came in with a big bold "making history" written on it 🫠 I don't understand how come a company this humongous can make stupidest of decisions. Oh and also hybe is fully ready to make jk the harry style of bts so things are gonna get worse. If the company is behind all this then I hope and wish jk will not break jimin's record and get that bbhot100 #1. Then only it will be a true slap on hybe's face.

That's true, last year he said it would be after Yoongi. But right now it's impossible for me to ignore the timing of it all... The words used when they posted those photos, and the implied "I'll do all the work for Jungkook" that comes with it. They also tagged it as "SBProject" which means Scooter Braun Project. He's pretty much Jungkook's manager. And they're giving him a song that they'll invest in and put out on radio and playlists and all of that. He's getting the western celebrity treatment. I can't not be bitter about it all happening amidst the shitshow that was Jimin's album release. How do you expect people to feel about it after they've spent two whole weeks endlessly asking the company and everyone they could think of to send Like Crazy to radio or to give it playlisting; to suddenly see Jungkook with fucking Scooter Braun and BangPD literally thanking him for making "this" happen.

Mind you, radio is the least hybe could've done for Jimin. It honestly seems like they didn't think he'd chart so well everywhere. Because it was literally everywhere in the world, not only in the USA. Jimin never was the member they invested in, even after all the years seeing him deliver amazing results. Everything Jimin always had was the people who supports and loves him unconditionally. People who saw him as the incredible person and artist he is and have been betting on him from the beginning.

They certainly acted stupid with Jimin's debut, but it was so clearly on purpose. Looking back on it, the timing of Jungkook "making history" with Scooter Braun of all people makes so much sense. Okay, it was planned that he'd do promo for a week and stop because of Yoongi or whatever. It was planned for years that they'd push Jungkook as their breakout artist; but even before the #1 was announced, they knew that Like Crazy was going to be top 10. They could've already started arranging a couple more activities, at least an interview. They knew what was coming but they refused to dwell too much on it because hey, we still have Jungkook, we'll put him out there so he'll give us the next #1. Jimin's time has passed.

Oh, he will get that #1. All he needs is radio and he has that secured with Scooter Braun. They saw that it was possible for a BTS member to have that kind of success and they said let's get immediately on it with Jungkook. If Jimin can do and be all that with no support at all, imagine what we can turn Jungkook into with the proper tools any company should provide. It's disgusting, I'm sorry.

All I can hope for is that Jimin knows about everything going on (he most likely does know) and will ask for proper treatment his next release.

[apocalypticavolition]

Wheel of Time Season 2 Episodes 1 - 3 Thoughts

In my reread - which I won't be doing today, or probably any day that a show episode comes out in the immediate future - this is the part where I'd have some sort of snark warning about spoilers to shoo away the viewers who might not have blocked the relevant tags for some reason. This is about the show, but I will be discussing a few things that will be spoilers to show-watchers only - and if you haven't caught up at all then obviously I'll be spoiling the show.

After seeing Apple TV's Foundation blossom into this beautiful and entertaining show that had almost nothing to do with its source material, I figured I could come to Wheel of Time's second season with an open mind. And hey, episode 1 of the show made me think that we were over the rough part. Yeah, I had to meet its plot changes in the middle, but if I was willing to do that, the show seemed to promise that I would be rewarded. After the three episodes released so far, I'm not quite sure. I want to love the show, but I'm not a show lover.

And yeah, it starts with the opening. Jordan's world is one in which evil doesn't prosper and makes no illusions about being an alternate system of morality that good guys just besmirch because they're meanie pants. Having a little girl pet a rape-and-murder machine that's purring at the prospect of human contact isn't a great start for me, and frankly there's just something about Ishamael in this scene that feels like Nandor from What We Do in the Shadows, which isn't a worthwhile comparison.

Nor does the new show intro excite me. The previous season's over-focus on the Aes Sedai felt to me like a mistake overall but the concept of the opening sequence was still strong. I wanted to see it change and evolve over the course of the eight seasons, but now we're just given a few seconds of a snake devouring itself. It's a major step backwards.

But these are quibbles. I know they're quibbles. If they were the biggest kinds of complaints I had against the show I'd move on. Things get a lot stronger from there, showing us some great TV! Let's break it down:

Moiraine and Lan: Moiraine is not taking being shielded well. This is a legit reaction. Her misery is clear and the bath scene is a great contrast. Lan's attitude isn't much better. It's well-acted, well-set, and seeing changes like Verin being folded into Vandene is good! Like I said, I get that it's TV, I get that there have to be changes, and this little change works. Heck, Bayle Domon showing up works. He's fun, Moiraine fucking him over is fun, it's good TV. It's a little frustrating that we still don't know what the poem is (I mean, I know as a reader but still), but that's all in good fun.

But I do have problems with the division forming between Lan and Moiraine. Not that it's happening at all, under the circumstances it makes perfect sense. However, the characters and narratives taking the stance of, "Moiraine is suffering trauma so she's allowed to be as cold to her best friend of twenty years as possible and he just has to take it" does not work for me at all.

Then there's the Fade sequence. In the next episode, Lan will apologize for not sensing the Shadowspawn coming, which raises the question - why didn't Moiraine sense them coming? She's shielded, not severed. Why did the first Fade go down so easily? Why is Lan so terrible at fighting Fades when he spent his whole life training to do so? At least Verin saves the day. Really, Verin is awesome in general and I have no complaints, she's everything she should be for this adaptation.

And then comes the double dose of cruelty. First we get a summary of how Lan and Moiraine met, based on the New Spring novel, but we leave out the coolest part, which frankly only does Moiraine dirty. Though, they do Lan dirty too by making the sexual assault he suffered something to laugh about as a funny cultural affectation instead of the rape that it clearly was.

And then things go downhill. Book Moiraine might have been cruel in setting up the transfer of her bond to Lan, but she didn't make it happen right away and she didn't explicitly tell Lan she never thought of him as an equal. Her behavior is abhorrent and unheroic and while Moiraine's always been on the utilitarian side of things, this is just more than I'm willing to deal with. It also only makes Alanna feel skeevier as a character, which is impressive considering all the rest of the stuff she pulls. And that's it. They're gone - and frankly, for show Moiraine all I can say is "good riddance".

Wondergirls: Egwene is overall good, Nynaeve starts well enough. I don't really like Nynaeve's getting to skip the novice phase taken away from her - I feel that Rafe's love of Egwene consistently tears down the characters around her and now that she's chiding Nynaeve that she should be happy I feel very vindicated in this belief - but I can live with it. Nynaeve choosing to suffer rather than address her block is good. The Aes Sedai politicking about how to train Nynaeve and who should be her mentor is great! Egwene's jealousy is in-character.

Nynaeve training with Alanna's Warders though, while impressive, feels like mostly an excuse to give those two a few extra lines. And Alanna feels genuinely skeevy in this incarnation; I had thought her advice to Egwene was just inappropriate metaphor until the characters clarified, and at that point I'm just wondering why Alanna is supposed to be a positive representation of polyamory if she's clearly trying to groom Egwene on the side. Like, at least Liandrin being a bad mentor and person overall is clear from her interactions with Nynaeve. Of course, much less about Liandrin is clear in general. She steals medicine as if an Aes Sedai wouldn't be able to obtain such things without question)

And then we meet Elayne. Book Elayne is a sweetheart, only stuck-up in the most basic of ways (taught to walk around with her nose in the air). Show Elayne makes several faux pas and doesn't seem to present much reason for Egwene to want to be her friend. "I haven't seen a soul", she says, surrounded by servants. She says she spent six summers in Tar Valon but her attitude screams six summers in Seandar. Sheriam at least seems like she's gonna beat some sense into her, but I shouldn't be rooting for that outcome, should I?

Meanwhile, Nynaeve follows Liandrin out of the tower and discovers her dark secret, a son dying of old age. At first my associate and I thought it was all going to be some kind of ploy to impress Nynaeve and influence her ajah choice, but it's all legit. I thought that Liandrin having a son was fine, but my friend is less convinced and there's something to be said for that. Liandrin's attitude doesn't scream, "son she's outliving", and it adds to the sense of incoherence to her character.

Elayne just barely manages to recover as a character during the drinking sequence when she chews Egwene out, which also sets her up nicely for her bullshit. Not sure what I think about the convenient drama of Nynaeve overhearing Egwene bitching about her, but at least it kind of goes places. It helps explain why Nynaeve's so vehement about the testing, anyway.

Her testing is... where things start really going downhill. The beginning is fine (though the whole "attacked by bandits" thing doesn't work for me at all for the Two Rivers - not in the last season, not in this one), and the middle is a good adaptation, but then we hit the end. The fake out's good, but then... Ugh. In the books, Nynaeve wills the portal back, but that's not what happens here. Further, Liandrin's motivations remain incoherent: if she's a Darkfriend working to bring about these peoples' downfall, Nynaeve's death (a huge loss for the Light) shouldn't be something she's this upset about. Like yeah, corrupting her would be more fun, but a win's a win. But the Shadow doesn't want wins in this episode. It wants to lose as hard as it can.

Sheriam is also a bit odd here but since she may not know Liandrin is Black I can buy her behavior as being generally shitty while covering for herself. I mean, "your grief is your own" is so unnecessarily cruel that it's clear that she's Black. That said, not sure why she's discussing arches with the girls when my impression is that the test was supposed to be something of a secret until the novice was ready to advance. Nor do I think Elayne is done any favors with her absolutely hollow condolences - Sheriam was more believable as a sympathetic ear.

Egwene confronts Liandrin, which leads us to yet another situation where somebody on the Shadow could easily eliminate one of the five ta'veren but absolutely refuses to do so because... it wouldn't be sporting? She then tries to save Nynaeve while Elayne talks her out of it, but makes absolutely no difference whatsoever (ah well, at least she isn't personally responsible for bringing Nynaeve back). Then Nynaeve... does come back. For no apparent reason. Apparently every other woman who entered this segment just killed themselves after missing the first door out. At least book Nynaeve forces the arch to reappear - show Nynaeve only forces the scenario to stop being scary and the arch shows up anyway.

Perrin: I thought that Marcus was the weakest actor last season, and while he's grown quite a good deal, it also feels like he's been given the least to work with. He's with mostly new characters bar Loial, who doesn't get the love and attention he deserves. Everyone in his sequence exists to push him along, and he doesn't have much going on just yet as he's reacting to what goes down. I do like how they're representing his power, and again combining Elyas and Hurin is the right sort of choice for TV, but I feel like Perrin was meant to be bouncing off of at least Mat at this point. His writing is very on the nose when he and the Shienarians are burying the Darkfriends, it feels very much like we're just being told what he feels instead of being shown it.

But hey, while the woman in the house horror sequence was not remotely something Perrin went through, and it was pretty changed, I honestly didn't expect it to show up at all, so I'm calling that a win for him. It's well-acted too, he doesn't have too much dialogue telling us how he feels so it works. That said, his place in the world gets a lot less certain as we go on - I assumed he was in the east like the books, but he seems to have crossed thousands of miles to go west considering what happens. Why are the Seanchan here? Why is Perrin where they are? This isn't a coincidence, it's blatantly forced.

Also sorry not sorry but the damane outfit isn't dehumanizing like it should be, it's just dumb. The damane in Perrin's arc is, as far as I'm concerned, named Little Miss Binky. Speaking of LMB, it bothers me a bit that she can sense all these channeler women when in the books the testing required the use of the a'dam. This is a random-ass village, there shouldn't be two sparkers. And Uno should not be fucking dead and no amount of Suroth's nail batons is going to make it okay for me (okay actually there is an amount but the season isn't going to run that long so same thing).

We end Perrin's arc in these three episodes with him waking up in a carriage with Ishamael, being stabbed to death as part of the Shadow's plans to bring about-- No wait, that would be competent. Instead, Ishamael is super interested in Perrin's character development (why bro?) and lets Perrin escape with Elyas while the two ditch Loial (unforgivable).

Mat and Min: Being imprisoned at this point works based on where the story ended up, but Liandrin is just kind of a cipher throughout his story. She's clearly relishing the opportunity to be evil editing him out of the letters she reads, but this is about as evil as she gets beyond the wrongful imprisonment. Why does she give him cakes in the next episode? Why is he being kept alive for months on end? There's no clear motivation for her character - if she's being a villain, she should have offed him long ago. If she's following Tower procedure in some fashion, it should be clearer.

Mat manages to make contact with Min - no one noticed his efforts, which is fine, but it stretches credulity that none of Min's captors notice that her wall is suddenly damaged after this. They're great friends and I love this for what it is, or rather what it seems to be. It really helps their relationship - though not her characterization - that he's not interested in having her read his future. Shame, considering what she sees.

After some more time, Nynaeve's apparent death prompts Liandrin to set Mat free. He almost goes to help Egwene, but then decides to ditch her because fuck Mat's character, amirite? One actor ditched us so all Mats have to be shitty now even when it's a central facet of who he should be. Then he doubles back to Min - why is he doing things in this order, this is the least logical order - but it turns out that this whole thing is staged by Liandrin and that Min is working with her. What the actual fuck?

Rand: I'm not loving how little attention he gets in the first episode, but whatever. The main problem is that his motivations are obscured to us for such a long period, and we aren't really given a clue as to how he figured out this was an option in the first place. At first I simply thought it was weird that he'd go to Cairhien when he knows he's a time bomb and that being a nurse-type made sense considering his overall sense of altruism.

Really, most of the hospital stuff works in isolation. The soldier suffering from PTSD is a nice touch and it helps build up the Rand as Aiel foreshadowing that the show hasn't had much time to get to yet. I don't like that Rand is cheating on Lan with another teacher but TV shows I guess.

Then we jump into a darker Rand. He stalks the asshole orderly and assaults him, in part with the power (though this seems to be unwilling). I thought this might be madness coming on early, but the truth isn't much better. Of course, before we find it out we get to see Rand hook up with Lanfear. Book Rand was clearly compelled and overwhelmed by a hottie being interested in him, but this atmosphere is gone here as well. Rand took one look at the slippery slope and said, "Watch how fast I can get to the bottom!"

And meanwhile, Lanfear is bizarrely self-aware! "I pretend you're Lews Therin," she all but says. "Go ahead and think of other women while you're having sex with me, your crazy and obsessive stalker!" The Forsaken are cartoonishly evil people because only someone cartoonishly evil would sign up to work under Satan. They shouldn't try to argue that they're actually good guys and they shouldn't have healthy standards in their romantic relationships!

So Rand's secret plan was to get close to Logain, which just... Why is he here? He's a war criminal who had an army of loyal fanatics! Even with the severing, he's way too much of a risk to toss amid the general populace for exactly the reason we see: a young man who can channel goes to him to learn how to carry on his traditions! Logain being Rand's teacher might be a good way of combining book characters, and he's certainly an awesome actor, but there's not enough of this stuff.

Rand learns more about the hunt being called, which is just going to raise further questions. I will note "Queen of Illian" and thus have to ask: have they relocated Berelain in this show? Have they just gender-flipped the king? These books don't need gender flips like they seem to like doing with her and Farstrider.

Then Rand and Lanfear end up at a fancy party. There's no clear explanation for how they got in, nor why the royals would be confused about Rand and Lanfear's identities. She lives at the Foregate, people! He's renting a room! The foreign prince thing doesn't work in this context! Then Rand gets an awkwardly designed infodump about the cruelty of the royalty and the reveal that the Hunt is a fake. Presumably the whole thing is supposed to be a fake that isn't happening outside of Cairhien, but that's not actually clear - and after a long sequence of Rand's arc being well-written if objectionable for his hunting down a man and beating him half (?) to death to steal is job, it's just a low note.

But hey, we get to see Logain be psycho and Lanfear be psycho, so that's pretty fun. Not really sure where Logain's gotten the impression he's the descendant of a man that is most famous for having killed his entire family, but that's crazy for you I guess. Rand also burns down the inn, an incident which everyone treats as no big deal despite the general flammability of everything in the vicinity.

Closing Thoughts: The TL;DR of all of this is, "Just as I got comfy with it, it got weird." Rand is darker than he should be at this point, Mat continues to lack the loyalty that defines him, Moiraine is awful to Lan in ways that the narrative gives no hint it disagrees with and past and future sexual assault is on the table for him, Nynaeve loses the behavior that justifies her being special and just survives by fiat, Elayne is way too awkward and rude, and the Darkfriends pass up every opportunity to eliminate or properly capture Mat, Perrin, Egwene, and Nynaeve, all of whom should be high priority targets. This season started strongly and I hope it can recover from these hiccups, but I'm worried that little details will continue to fail to add up like this.

[litcityblues]

The Mandalorian Season 3: Do We Need A Movie?

(Yes, I know I'm late getting around to this. No, I haven't watched Ahsoka yet. I'm getting there, all right?)

I don't think Star Wars has quite the problems that the MCU does. We're not being drowned in a firehose of content that merely by the sheer amount of it degrades the quality of it-- no, Star Wars has a slightly different problem: it's in a galaxy far, far, away and can't stop showing us the same characters and/or planets.

Thankfully, Star Wars at least seems to be somewhat aware that it has this problem as a franchise and while they might not be taking too many concrete actual steps towards fixing the problem, shows like Andor and The Mandalorian at least suggest that they're trying to remedy that a little. They're trying to acknowledge that not every story needs to end on Tatooine and involve a member of the Skywalker Clan- they've got a whole galaxy to work with and they're at least thinking about how to do that. It's refreshing.

But, having watched Season 3 of The Mandalorian and heard the news that Season 4 is apparently going to be released as a movie, I'm left tilting my head slightly to the left, screwing up my eyebrows, and thinking: Do we need a movie?

Don't get me wrong: Season 3 of The Mandalorian has a lot going for it. First of all, the return to Mandalore itself was a really interesting choice for this show to make. There was really no other place for it to go, as Djarin needed to be redeemed for removing his helmet in violation of the creed of the Mandalore-- but returning to the ruins, him diving into the waters of Mandalore and then bringing back Bo-Katan (Katee Sackhoff) to show her that surface was still habitable after all this time was a great choice.

If I have a weakness, it's probably for side characters that are far more interesting than the story intends them to be. (In House of the Dragon, for instance, you can keep Daemon, Rhaenyra, Otto Hightower, and Alicent-- Rhaenys (Eve Best) is the most interesting character in the show.) Here, that title is shared by Bo-Katan and to some degree by Carson Teva (Paul Sun-Hyung Lee.)

Bo-Katan is interesting because she's got an agenda. Whether she admits it or not, she wants Darksaber back so she can set about reclaiming her rightful place on the throne of Mandalore, restart the Great Forge, and reunite her people. The fact that Djarin just randomly ends up with the Darksaber (I mean, he does earn it by defeating Moff Gideon), makes her character a little... twitchy, in a way. She's kind of giving Djarin some side-eye, trying to figure out if she can take back the Darksaber and how and when he's pulled under in the waters of Mandalore, she does go and save him, but she also thinks about it for just a second. This was an aspect of this character that the show could have played with more-- there's a conflict within her over power and honor and she's reluctant to help Djarin, not believing that Mandalore is habitable again, but once she sees that it is-- it's game on. She also has to deal with her past (and the fact that surrendered to try and save her people when the Empire took them down) and that's another interesting thing we don't get to see. What happened on the Night of A Thousand Tears.

Carson Teva is back as the X-Wing pilot who is trying like heck to get the New Republic to actually do something for once. There's a whole-ass show centered around not just this character, but the New Republic of it all. How does the Rebellion go from rag-tag Rebel Alliance to an actual government? How come they're so effective at rehabilitating former Imperials but can't seem to protect systems from pirates? How come the New Republic still exists at the start of The Force Awakens, but there's also The Resistance as well? Like... how does it all work, post-Death Star?

(Also: what's up with The Armorer? Mysterious character. Suddenly is down with Helmets being removed? I'm... curious.)

There are a couple of standout moments for this season: the first is a delightfully unexpected detour to the planet Plazir-15 (Episode 6, 'Chapter 22: Guns For Hire') where Bo-Katan, Djarin, and Grogu go to get Bo-Katan's now mercenary army, the Axe Wolves back to go and retake Mandalore. They are currently in the employ of Captain Bombardier, the Duchess (played by Jack Black and Lizzo respectively), and the head of Planetary Security, Commissioner Helgait (Christopher Lloyd.) Three people I would never have expected to see in an episode of this show and it works. It's just delightful. It's fun. It's great.

The second moment comes courtesy of a vision Grogu has in Episode 4 ('Chapter 20: The Foundling') where he recalls his rescue from the burning Jedi Temple by sympathetic members of the Naboo Armed Forces and Jedi Master Kelleran Beq, who is played by Ahmed Best. Best, of course, is known for playing Jar-Jar Binks in the prequel trilogy and he has gotten an incredible amount of abuse and stick for it over the years. Whether this was a deliberate choice by the showrunners or just a happy accident, I don't know- and it definitely floated around my TikTok feed a lot when this first aired, but seeing this moment and seeing this actor get a shot at, if not redemption, then certainly a chance to be seen as someone else in the Star Wars franchise was fabulous. A+ work.

Here's where I'm at with this show: the ending is perfect. Gideon is defeated, and his Force-Sensitive clones are destroyed. While you can quibble about Djarin just giving the Darksaber to Bo-Katan, he does and she gets to restart the Great Forge and the Mandalorians get to be back on Mandalore. Djarin formally adopts Grogu, they take up Greef Karga (Carl Weathers) on his offer of a bit of land on the outskirts of Nevarro's capital and Djarin goes to Carson Teva looking for some more honest work while he raises Grogu.

So, let me ask the question again: Do we need a movie?

I mean, there are some aspects of the story we can still explore. Bo-Katan and getting Mandalore going, Imperial Shenanigans and whispers of Grand Admiral Thrawn, Carson Teva, and the struggles of the New Republic. I'm not disagreeing with the notion that there's more story here, I'm just saying- in terms of Djarin and Grogu: do we need a movie? This is perfect. You couldn't ask for a better ending to their story. That doesn't mean they can't show up again at some point, but man, this felt like the perfect bow to tie on top of this show.

I'm probably going to watch Season 4/The Movie or whatever it winds up being, never fear-- but sometimes it's okay for things to just end, you know. And I almost wish they'd just put this down and walk away for a bit.

Overall: It's great. The action scenes work. They don't get stuck on Tatooine or some other planet we've seen before- in fact, we get to go back to Mandalore! That's rad. It's got awesome moments for all the characters, a trio of excellent guest stars, and a nice moment for Ahmed Best tucked away in here. If it's got a fault, it's that it doesn't go as far as it could with some characters (I think Bo-Katan could have faced far more of a struggle over Djarin having the Darksaber, for instance) but I can't complain about the ending either. My Grade: *** out of ****

[nebulous-bitch]

To Stay and Let Go

"I don't know what to do with it,

with all the love I have for her.

I don't know where to put it now."

Why am I still carrying it all?

("where can I put it down?")

My hands are overflowing but they're bleeding, too,

and I've bitten my nails down to the quick

but you'll have to pry it from my cold, dead hands

because I can't seem to make my fingers release- what?

"I'm afraid I will spend entire years trying not to need you."

(I already have)

And you say that you're a cringey poet now

but my thoughts have always been poetry around you

and I feel like i'm trying to scrub it away so that

we might get to somewhere where it didn't actually happen

but I can't unwrite the words that you carved into my heart

with soft touches and goofy laughs.

("I just want to make you laugh.

can't that be the whole poem?

I just want to make you laugh.")

And Jesus you're so beautiful

that it makes my chest hurt sometimes

and I feel like a failure because somehow

I stopped holding on

even though I've forgotten how to let go.

And I'm lying in a bland hotel room

reading Anne Carson and looking out the window

at the rows of rooms on the building next door

and I think I read something once

about cutting open a heart and finding only love instead of blood.

I don't think you're all that I am

and I'm certainly getting better at living without you

but I'm still debating if that's just because

I've successfully scaffolded the gaping hole inside of me

into something that can be ignored for the most part

aside from the continuous thoughts of you that

keep slipping through the gaps.

And you wouldn't even let me blame myself. Of course.

I hate you (no I don't).

I couldn't even bring myself to do that

and I'm getting worse and worse at faking it.

I always thought that it would kill me to lose you.

I am somehow disappointed that it hasn't yet.

And to be honest this doesn't really feel like getting over you

more like circling something over and over again

hoping that it will get blacked out.

My hands keep shaking and

I wish I could stop you affecting me like this

because I keep thinking that if I'd only known you better

if I'd only noticed sooner so you didn't have to tell me

if I'd only never met you so I wouldn't be standing here

heart ripped open like a pair of old jeans

knowing you won't even beg for it.

Knowing that you'd never ask me to stay.

I told you not to, you see

and I was always too good at asking and

you were always too good at doing

but of course none of that

applied to the things that mattered, in the end.

Maybe we never should have been here

but neither of us were ever very good at

controlling ourselves, were we

because it's hard to judge where to cut from this angle,

and now the knife's slipped and i'm spread open

because you always did know me better than anyone else.

I would’ve thought you’d have put a bit more effort

into not hurting me, then.

(Who let the fire start though, honestly?

Maybe we'll never know)

And you know what hurts the most is that

somehow, even after all of it,

it seems that the fact that you lied

still doesn't fix the fact that I love you

and you are so well woven into my life

that I wouldn't even know where to start trying to cut you out.

------

@gaslight-gaetkeep-gayboss thanks for bullying me into this ig

@florida-preposterously words!! (idk if you'll appreciate the tag but i hope so)

@not-perry-the-platypus i don't think you've seen this one yet

[sada-siva-sanyaasi]

I posted 1,686 times in 2022

That's 1,615 more posts than 2021!

400 posts created (24%)

1,286 posts reblogged (76%)

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I tagged 502 of my posts in 2022

#desiblr - 252 posts

#rrr - 116 posts

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Longest Tag: 103 characters

#i returned to tumblr after almost a whole fucking year and this is the best thing i found gnfkdksskdmdm

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

capture you headcannons (3):

Masterlist

Sarojini was a true combination of her parents, literally.

She had her father's smile, her mother's eyes, walked like her father and talked like her mother.

She was insanely intelligent like both her parents, knowing local and foreign languages, danced like her father, took pictures and painted a little like her mother did.

She also got her father's anger and her mother's dry humour and sarcasm, which made her impossible to deal with during arguments.

Sarojini, or Bujji like her Bheem Babai and Jenny Pinni called her, Chinna Rakshasi like her Seetha Atta called her, or Chinnamma and Saroo like her parents called her, was the apple of everyone's eye.

And she knew it. She enjoyed it a lot too.

In the beginning, Saroo loved falling asleep on her father's chest as he read her from her mother's vast collection of books while Y/N watched from the other side of the bed with a soft smile.

As she grew, Saroo started going to her mother to sleep in her lap, curled in her saree because of how comfortable it felt.

Ram would crawl into bed and press a kiss on her head gently, massaging her legs because she ran around the house the entire day.

Saroo got pampered insanely by her aunts and uncle and the rest of the village, much to Ram's chagrin.

"See, I'm not saying she doesn't deserve it because I know my chinnamma deserves everything in this world," he mumbled into Y/N's stomach once as she gently ran her fingers through his hair. "I just... they're spending too much time with my daughter. She belongs to us, right?"

"She belongs to herself, my big baby. Let her grow as she pleases."

Ram was such a strong man, so brave and ready to face every challenge in his life, but it seemed to him that the biggest challenge after falling in love with his wife was watching his little one grow.

Bheem seemed to have gotten a lot softer after Saroo was born, keeping every possible harmful thing out of her reach.

Once when he and Jenny were playing with Saroo, she had crawled into his chest and snuggled closer, yawning as wide as she could which didn't release a sound.

Bheem almost stole her and ran away that day. Jenny had to stop him.

Another time when all five of them sat together for lunch, eating, Saroo crawled to Bheem and giggled, grabbing his nose ring.

She placed a clumsy slobber-filled kiss to it and fell on his chest, instantly falling asleep.

Bheem was stopped by four people that day, and only returned Saroo when Y/N promised him "Saroo will spend every alternative weekend with her Bheem Babai and Jenny Pinni, okay? Now give me my daughter."

Seetha loved brushing her hand over Saroo's head, petting her gently as she slept in her lap.

As Saroo grew, Seetha would be the one she went to for braids, because despite everything Y/N knew she couldn't braid Saroo's hair without getting scared she was hurting her and sending her to her aunt.

Jenny spent time with Saroo when Bheem would leave to help Ram with work, and by the time he returned they'd be giggling together about something, cuddled into each other.

Saroo grew up on Bheem's shoulders, after she kicked his chest while trying to learn to stand and winced in pain.

Along with the extreme love she got from everyone, she got other things too.

Seetha dragged her out of numerous fights with boys much larger than her because "Atta, they were being mean to other kids/animals/me! Do I just sit and watch it?"

Jenny had to buy new books because Saroo finished the ones she had, and was soon running out of books to buy for her to read.

Bheem refused to fight with her because "Anna, your daughter fights like you and Y/N combined. I can't deal with it so I just give her what she wants."

Saroo also had a knack for pranking people.

See the full post

150 notes - Posted April 22, 2022

#4

ours // ramaraju-bheem

Masterlist

(a/n- this was a requested part, and also has dark themes head so read with caution.)

When Y/N woke up again, her body was bound to a chair, a gag in her mouth and blindfolded, completely unaware and terrified about what was happening to her. She sat up straight, wriggling in the chair and twisting her hands to loosen the ropes around them, muffled cries leaving her. “Struggling is pointless, my love,” a soft voice next to her ear made her freeze, all thoughts leaving her brain.

Ram.

He pressed a soft kiss to the shell of her ear, carefully slipping the blindfold off her eyes as he moved to sit in front of her. Y/N blinked, her eyes slowly adjusting to the light flooding around her as she saw Ram loosen the ropes around her wrists and legs a little, massaging the sore areas with a soft look on his face. 

If it weren’t for what he had done to her, her heart would have raced at the way he was touching her, her blood rushing to her face. But the only thing she could see at that moment wasn’t her best friend, or the man she had begun to slowly fall for. The man in front of her was a monster, and she didn’t know him at all.

“I loosened the knots, you should be able to move your arms and legs much more than before,” Ram spoke softly, as if to a child calming after their tantrum. He moved to her face, not looking into her eyes even once as he reached to remove the gag cloth from around her mouth, moving her hair out of her face and moving back, beginning to braid it.

“Let me go,” Y/N tried to sound strong, she really did, but the fear gripping her throat only let her voice come out as a shaky plea. Ram paused, the silence around them allowing him to assess how she was shaking, how her lips were trembling and sweat went down her neck from the anxiety that she was going through.

Ram finished braiding her hair and pinned it up into a bun, picking a cloth to wipe the sweat on her back and all over her neck. She shivered as she felt his touch, tears welling in her eyes. “Ram, let me go.” She said again, her voice shakier than before. “I need to go to Bheem-”

“You don’t have to go anywhere.” His cold voice cut her off, making Y/N gulp in fear as he sat in front of her, observing the look on her face. “Ram, this isn’t you, please just-” “This was always me, Y/N,” He sighed, sitting back. 

“Always. Desperately in love with you, worshipping the ground you walked on, hanging onto every breath that left you like it was my only source of air, finding joy in your very existence. This has been me ever since I met you, and so long before that.”

Y/N watched in confusion, seeing how he still refused to look into her eyes. “I’ve seen you for the first time almost three years ago, Y/N. You’ve bewitched me quite literally, sitting in a library and reading books imported from England with interest unlike anything I’ve seen before, little sounds of excitement and despair leaving you as you turned the pages,” Ram chuckled, rubbing his face and looking at the ground. 

“I’ve never known feelings so strong, love so binding till you, and met you that day in the temple, became friends with you, made you a regular part of my life, became a part of yours and everything was going so well until you fell for him.” The air suddenly seemed to heat up as Ram finally looked into her eyes, the fire burning in his eyes making her shrink away.

“You fell for Bheem, Y/N. My Bheem, my brother. You fell for him. And I couldn’t stand the thought of not having you.” Ram wrapped his fingers around her hand, rubbing circles as he spoke with urgency and desperation. “Do you even know what it’s like? The fear of losing someone you love more than your own life? My life was never mine, but you made it worth it to live on and fight, and you just wanted to leave me?”

“Ram, I was never going to leave you, I just-” Y/N tried again when he scoffed, looking away. “You loved him! Of course you were going to leave me! How could I marry you when you loved him?!” She cried at this, the tears flowing down her face as she shrunk further into her chair, her heart racing seeing him slowly lose himself.

Ram stood up, kicking his chair away as he yelled, punching the wall beside him. Y/N watched as he kept punching, her breath stuck in her throat when she saw blood on his hands and cracks slowly form on the wall.

Y/N looked away, unable to watch as she noticed how loose the knots actually were, making her lean forward a little, tugging at one with her teeth. Soon enough, it came loose as she untied the rest with her free hand, jumping up to grab his hands. “Please stop!” She cried, gripping his shoulder with both hands as he froze, hand millimetres away from the wall.

Ram looked at how she held onto him and cried, her body shaking as her tears drenched his shoulder. He put his hands down, a sigh leaving him as he wrapped his arms around her trembling figure, shushing her. “It’s okay my love,” he cooed, stroking her hair with his bloodied hands. He cupped her face as he pulled away slowly, wiping her tears.

“When we get married, it will all settle down. Everything will be just perfect.” He murmured as her breath stuttered, looking at him with panic. “Hold on, maybe now is not the right time.” Y/N tried as she tried to get away from him while Ram just pulled her into his calmly, shushing her. “And wait till you fall in love with me? Y/N, it’s just marriage, I’m sure you’ll learn to love me later on. Maybe not as much as I love you, because that’s impossible, but you’ll learn.”

He backed her into a wall as he lowered his face into her neck, pressing sultry kisses there. “You’re mine, and you’ll remain mine forever.” He murmured into her skin as Y/N closed her eyes, hands against his chest as her mind spinned. She knew she didn’t want this, and yet a small part of her did want to be with him, and she was lost in not knowing what was right for her and what wasn’t.

Y/N’s hands crept up Ram’s neck slowly as he moved to her face, and pulled him away from her, a pleading look on her face. “Ram, please.” She begged as he sighed and pulled away completely. He caressed her cheek, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead as he walked away from there silently, leaving her by herself.

Y/N slid down the wall as sobs racked her body, hiding her face behind her knees. Her pitiful cries for help echoed through the house as Ram kept punching his bag, blood spilling everywhere. She would soon realise that this was for the best, she had no other choice.

—

Y/N read through a book, humming to herself as she felt Ram behind her, bent as he set her saree. She lost track of the number of days she spent with him, and it had gone to a point where he had become her only anchor. She began to slowly seek him out for everything, despite the voice in her head screaming at her to not do so. 

Ram had welcomed her with open arms, ready for everything she was going to throw at him for however long it was, because it meant she would be right with him and at least talk to him. She initially showed nothing more than fear and hatred to the man that he really was, which slowly melted into hesitation, and settled as comfort and acceptance.

Y/N didn’t know what she felt for him, but knew it wasn’t any less than the love she had for him before because he still treated her exactly how he did the very first time they met. She knew he had clipped her wings but at the same time was the only thing she had left, with Bheem gone too.

Bheem.

The name brought tears to her eyes and pain to her heart every time she thought of him, knowing he died that day when Ram took her from him. He had died without the ones he loved with him, and for that she could never forgive Ram. But maybe one day she’d learn to like this new life she was given, where she was the star Ram’s world revolved around and he was the only one in her universe.

She turned to scoff when she noticed Ram still kneeling next to her, her saree long forgotten as he just admired her from there, a dazed smile on his face. She pushed his face away and smirked when he fell back, looking at her with a mischievous smile. “You shouldn’t have done that, you disturbed me while I was busy.” Y/N rolled her eyes as she sat down, putting her book away as she looked at him. “Oh really? What were you so busy doing?”

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150 notes - Posted May 2, 2022

#3

chandamama // part 3

Masterlist

Ram tossed and turned in his sleep, finally waking up and walking out to his balcony as he looked at the night sky, watching a few stars blink weakly, the moon hiding. It’s not even amavasya, but why was the moon not there? Ram hadn’t realised how much he depended on the moon for comfort and peace, and without her guidance he felt his heart sink.

After he put his books away, Y/N had seemed… off. She stared at him blankly, her face ashen, and when he leaned to kiss her, the sound of a car made her jump away from him, rushing out. “That… that’s my father here for me, Ram,” she avoided his eyes, almost looking relieved as she stared at the car. “I’ll come back later, alright? Good night.” Ram watched her leave, his heart twisting uneasily. Had he done something that made her stare at him like that?

He looked on as she stopped before getting into her car, looking up once to see him. He waved, smiling as she raised her hand a little, jumping in and leaving. Something definitely happened while he was away, otherwise she wouldn’t look at him like he was wrong, like he was a monster. “Jabilamma, why are you hiding?” He whispered into the night, the stars staring back emptily. “What went wrong?”

Y/N stared at the sky from her house, tears swimming in her eyes as she muffled the cries that left her. “Everything went wrong,” she whimpered as the empty sky sighed back painfully. “Why did I have to fall in love with him, with Ram, of all the people? Why did he have to be the officer hunting my family?” 

She fell back into her bed, tears slowly falling as she buried her face into the pillow. “What if he gets to him before I do? What if I can never find him and never return with him?” She stopped for a second, her heart freezing. “What if the one here is Bheema? What if my brother is here and I’ll lose him before I get him?” She shivers as the air gets colder, wrapping her blankets tighter around herself, trying to calm the storms raging within her heart.

She knew she had to do something, just didn’t know what to do.

—

Y/N sat with Jenny, watching the decorations being put up all around Governor Scott’s house. “So Akhtar visited today,” Jenny began, making Y/N’s head shoot up in excitement, “And he stayed for a while but he seemed distracted, you know? Sort of like, he was looking for something. I don’t think he thought I would notice, but it was a little concerning, Y/N. Do you think something happened?”

Y/N frowned, shrugging, when she sat straight, everything seeming crystal clear. A mechanic in Delhi she hasn’t heard about, his sneakily good knowledge of southern foods, he could be it. Akhtar could be her family, looking for the girl Scott stole from her people.

“I heard about the girl in your mansion, what was her name again?” “Malli,” Jenny answered, happy at the mention of her name. Y/N watched as she gushed about her. “Oh, she’s such a sweet child. Akhtar found me a bangle for her too, in the market. He denied it but I think he made the bangle, and she absolutely loved it!”

Y/N sat back in her seat, Jenny’s words fading out as the feeling of relief and despair set into her chest. She would now have to tell Akhtar- no, her family, however he was related to her, that the man he considered his brother was in fact sent to get him. She set her tea aside, getting up. “Jenny, I am so sorry, but I think I will have to leave now-”

“What’s the hurry?” A voice said as the both turned around, Lady Scott watching them both with narrowed eyes. Y/N swore she hated this woman more than her vile husband. “I’m sure you don’t actually have anywhere to go, stay here for a while. Convince your friend, won’t you Jenny? The dear girl seems to travel a lot these days.”

Y/N closed her eyes, clenching her fists as Jenny grabbed her hand, pleading. “Please, you barely stay anymore! I miss my friend a lot, Y/N. At least until you see how the party looks, please stay!”

As Lady Scott laughed and walked away when Y/N finally nodded, she sent a vicious glare at the woman’s back, praying some chandelier would break and fall on her that instant, ridding the whole world of infinite evil.

Y/N sat back, Jenny holding on and talking about how wonderful Akhtar was and how lovely the party would be, wishing she was instead warning him about what was to come.

—

The clock struck 10 when Y/N reached Akhtar’s house, gasping for breath. The door opened and his sister looked shocked when she saw her, opening the door wider for the rest of the family to see her. Y/N shook her head, wiping her face. 

“Akhtar, where is he? I know he’s the man from Adilabad sent to get Malli back, but please, his life is in danger.” She pulled her hair into a bun, lowering it for them all to see the mark. “I’m one of them, please tell me where he is.” She begged, slipping down as they all stared at her in shock.

“You’re one of us?” a voice came from behind her, and she turned to see the old man she spent her early childhood around. Y/N rushed to him, grasping his hands in hers as she looked at him pleadingly. “Peddayya, it’s me, Y/N, Bheem’s little sister.” His eyes widened as he hugged her to his chest, crying. 

“Inni dinalu nee munde tirigade mee anna, ninnu tana kandla mundu pettukoni nee eduru chusade mee anna*,” he sobbed, Y/N gripping onto him as she cried too. Akhtar was her Bheema all this time, her brother, her shield from this entire world.

“Where is he?” She gasped, pulling away and looking at him. “His life is in danger, where is he?” “At Ram’s house, he’s treating him because he got bit by a viper, but-”

Y/N took off, running to Ram’s house as fast as she could. How could she tell any of them that he was the danger Bheem’s life was going to face? 

When she got to Ram’s house, she saw Akhtar- no, her brother leave the house, and crashed into him, all the years of staying apart rushing back to her. Bheem stumbled, confused, but hugged her back, comforting her instantly. “Anna,” she cried, making Bheem freeze as her tears stained his shirt. “Anna, why didn’t you come for me sooner? I waited so long for you that night.” 

“So many years away from you and everyone else, why didn’t you look for me, Anna? Why didn’t you come looking for me like you came all these years later for Malli?”

Bheem touched the tattoo on her neck and tears sprung in his eyes, his arms tightening around Y/N as they both crumpled to the ground.

“Nannu manninchave*,” He caressed her hair, pressing gentle kisses to her forehead as she slowly pulled away. “I saw the marks, and the blood on the ground, we all thought you died that day. Not a day goes by when I don’t miss you, cry for you looking at the moon. Had I known you weren’t dead but taken, I would’ve searched the world for you.”

He looked at her and smiled, pushing the hair gently out of her face. “But look at you, the only one from us all who is educated, who knows and understands this evil world. I’m so proud of you.” He helped her up, steadying her on her feet and pointed to Ram’s house.

“Stay with him and protect him, he needs you right now, more than ever. Once we get Malli, I’m coming back for you. Take care of yourself, I can’t lose you again.” Y/N gulped, looking at the door as Bheem hugged her one last time, leaving her there. 

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182 notes - Posted April 25, 2022

#2

red // ramaraju

capture you \ green \ blue

@manwalaage @lil-stark @thewinchestergirl1208 @contemporarykafka @gauri-vishalakshi @maraudersfansassemble @idrinktea-darling @itsfookingloosah @rambheem-is-real @adrakchutneyofficial @nerdreader @mayuriebubblie @darlingletshurttonight @samairathewriter @redirection04 @reallythoughtfulwizard

(a/n- this went so so different from what I thought lmao. Enjoy folks, feedback is appreciated!)

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"Come back to me and we will spend every second of our lives with each other, come back and I'll tell you everyday that I'm in love with you, more than anyone has ever loved anyone."

She knelt down too, bringing his face closer as she pressed a kiss to each tear that slipped out, before a final kiss to his forehead, her lips staying there.

"Come back to me," she whispered.

Ram woke up with a start, looking around wildly as he felt the ground around him. His fingers finally found the idol and he brought it close to his chest, breathing heavily. Y/N gave him an anchor without realising when she handed her idol of his namesake to him, the same idol that saved him from the storms brewing in his heart and the longing that clouded his mind. He stared at the idol as memories flooded his brain, a sense of comfort filling him as her voice rang in his heart.

Flashback

“I didn’t know you’re devoted to Shri Ram,” Bheem said, trying to make conversation with Y/N who was still upset with Ram. “Oh well, I was originally much more devoted to Lord Shiva,” she mused, stirring the pot as the aroma filled the air around them. Ram paused, looking up from his book as she looked into the pot, frowning, before taking some spice and putting it in, stirring once and offering a taste to Bheem. Bheem tentatively put a spoonful in his mouth, his eyes lighting up as he surged forward for more.

“Not now Bheem, I’ll save extra for you later.” She chided, smiling to herself. “As I was saying, I loved Shiva a lot more. I think I still do; he feels real and grounds me a lot. But Shri Ram,” she spared a glance at Ram before looking back at Bheem, “I fell in love with him recently, and I really like the feeling.”

End

Ram’s uncle walked into his tent and sighed, looking at Ram’s state. He had been waking up panting and sweating ever since he left his heart in Hyderabad, and everyone could see how it had been affecting him. 

Ram walked slower, talked less and got more agitated than before. His eyes lost the glow, looking more and more like those of a sick tiger unlike the sharp ones they were before. More than anything, he looked scared all the time, his grip on the idol she gave him growing tighter each passing day.

“Ram,” he began, watching his nephew sit straighter and look into the fire burning, not acknowledging him. “You’re just killing yourself for no reason, and you know it. She wouldn’t want you like this Ram, none of us do.”

Ram rolled his eyes and stood up, dusting himself. He knew what he was doing, better than anyone else. But he also knew that everything felt absolutely pointless without her looking at him, sitting beside him, talking to him, just being near him. It all felt like it meant nothing. “Remember your promise to Baba, Ram.” His uncle tried again but Ram snapped. “Well I’ve fulfilled it, haven’t I? I did everything I could and got a gun in every villager’s hand to fight for our freedom. Baba never said I had to give up on love for freedom. He didn’t ask me to kill my spirit and live lifelessly for this fight for freedom, Babai.” Ram sighed, wiping the sweat off his face as he turned to his uncle.

“I will fight with every ounce in my being, with my last breath I will fight to do whatever I can in making sure the British leave our land and we get back everything that rightfully belongs to us. But for me to fight, I need her. I need her beside me to be able to breathe the way I did before. I just,” he sat back down, looking into the fire with hopelessness. “I want her, Babai. Nothing else.”

Ram’s uncle rubbed his face as he sat down beside his nephew, looking into the fire. “Then go get her.” Ram looked up from the fire, staring as his uncle patted his back reassuringly. “I can take care of things over here, Ram. You go bring my daughter-in-law home.” Ram turned back to the flames as they reflected in his eyes, and after a very very long time, his uncle finally saw his nephew again.

–

The Sun was just rising in Hyderabad when Ram finally got to Y/N’s house. The first rays of light hit Ram’s feet as he gazed at the mansion that belonged to his lady love, somehow completely dull. Something was wrong, he could tell as the mansion hollowly looked back at him, and he ventured in, looking for anyone at all. Since it was too early in the morning, maybe no one was around, Ram reasoned with himself as he looked around the spotless house.

A door creaked open and Y/N’s little brother walked out, rubbing his eyes. He was fully clothed in white, not any sign of the grand clothes he wore the last time Ram saw him, and panic began to set into Ram’s chest. The white clothes, no sign of people around, the talk of a plague going around in the city as bad as when Quli Qutb Shah ruled over centuries ago rang in ram’s brain as he staggered back, making Y/N’s brother finally notice him.

“Baava*!” He exclaimed, rushing to hug him, and Ram hugged the young boy back, tears already collecting in his eyes for multiple reasons. The boy pulled away and smiled wide at Ram, but frowned immediately, noticing his state. “Baava, what happened? Are you alright?”

Ram looked at him and ruffled his hair a little, turning around to the house. “Where’s everyone?” The kid sighed, sitting him down and offering a glass of water. “Amma went on a religious trip to Varanasi to pray and celebrate, and the house help will be here anytime soon.”

“Celebrate?”

“Yeah,” he looked up at Ram with nervous eyes. “Akka got infected by the plague, and was suffering all alone for almost two weeks. She was in a lot of pain, baava, and none of us could do anything to help her out. She kept saying that nothing will happen to her because she still hasn’t seen her Ram even while her health deteriorated drastically.”

Ram stopped breathing, fear gripping him tight at the thought of losing Y/N. he had nearly lost her and he didn’t actually know, what if she-“Thankfully she recovered all by herself, the physician who came to see her said it was a true miracle.” The boy smiled wide. “I think you kept her alive baava, wanting to see you made her fight even death. Today is Holi, which is why I’m dressed in white, and- oh look, the house help got here too.”

Ram looked up as people filled the house, and sighed to himself, leaning back. “Baava,” Ram looked up as the boy held out a set of white kurta pyjamas for him. “Get ready for Holi, it's Akka's favourite festival and I'm pretty sure she’s sleeping right now. She will wake up anytime soon and rush to get ready, so you should too. Wouldn’t want to miss your first Holi together, right?” Ram grabbed the clothes gratefully and began walking away but stopped at the last sentence. 

“Also please cut your hair and shave your beard, you look horrible. Akka likes finely groomed men so much more, trust me.”

“Yeah right, she likes me anyway.” Ram grumbled, but still scratched his beard thoughtfully as he walked to shower. Maybe the kid wasn’t wrong after all.

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231 notes - Posted April 18, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

yeah alcohol is cool but have you ever had your father look at you with sheer pride?

me neither, pass the bottle bitch.

1,013 notes - Posted September 29, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[petrichoraline]

oh god i feel so much anxiety when i have to rush to watch an episode live i just can't do it! so then when i'm mentally prepared everyone has talked about everything and i get overwhelmed by how many posts there are on the tag... it's a whole thing wish i could be normal about these things but alas

i'm sorry you feel that way too :') it's a very common experience whether you create content, so to say, or not - trying to enjoy things with everyone else but the everyone else in question seems to always be there first. everything that could be said already said and everything that could be created - shared and done with. sometimes it's like going to a party an hour late and realising everyone present had actually been camping in front of the house and entered the second the clock struck 7:00. by the time you arrive everyone has danced to all the best songs, eaten all the good snacks, discussed all the fun gossip and is just chilling while you are standing in the middle of the room bursting with energy.

or something.

other times it feels like a race where you were taking a sip of water and suddenly all the other runners are nowhere to be seen - you start running but they teleport right behind you as they're already on their second lap - then disappear just as quickly. alternatively, you're supposed to be doing a marathon for fun together with the same goal in mind but suddenly you're on the ground. you try to ask for them to wait but all you're doing is breathing in dust.

something along those lines.

the good thing is the content is there for you to enjoy and people are always happy to discuss the things they are passionate about!! i'd recommend focusing on a few blogs whose stuff you like, maybe asking them to tag you when they post if they do this sort of thing or asking for their thoughts on certain things you're curious about. as for the tag, honestly considering most shows release an episode per week, i think going through the tag and scrolling for a bit every day is the easiest way to get as much content in as possible, maybe keep a tab open and scroll from the bottom upwards and open new ones occassionally?

i know it's overwhelming and it's a bit tough to deal with but at the end of the day we consume as much content as we can and with popular shows it's often going to be more than we can take in, especially when following multiple ongoing series at once. don't take it to heart and don't give in to the feeling of missing out - it's not something to stress over, it's supposed to be fun and when you take fandom too seriously to the point it mkes you nervous you should take a step back. i'm currently on tumblr way less, not because i've gotten a life but because the site feels like it's sucking the remaining life out of me. don't rush, watch things when you want to, enjoy however much content you can whenever you feel like it and just fuck it! have fun!!! nobody is paying us, no one is threatening us, prioritize FUN above all else when it comes to fandom, okay? it's not that serious, it never was <3 sending sm love and many hugs 💖

[nemesis-is-my-middle-name]

Somehow I had forgotten that bibarel was a water type and not just a normal one. I do like the idea that Iscan has an qwilfish, the fact that it has such a prickly body and personality matches the irony of him having a ghost type noble when he's scared of them. Cyndaquil being used as a portable heater, probably pretty much from the start since nights seem like they'd be colder in the fieldlands than they are in the mirelands, is so cute. It's gonna be a lifesaver once she gets up where it's cold. The real reason the go to the icelands last and the highlands second to last is that she wants to put off being that cold for as long as possible and they have no reason not to accommodate her lol.

She's so eager to do hair care for pretty much anyone that when she sees him start brushing Sneasler, who is very happy to sit there and let him groom her, she offers to help. She's surprised by how much she likes it, and how much the all of the pokemon like it because so few people are willing to let her play with their hair. Lol, the Ginkgo Guild spreads the word about all the neat things they're doing in this place called Jubilife and suddenly they've got an influx of tourists and have to expand.

Makes me wonder if being around Lilligant would make him feel a kind of loss and nostalgia, or if he'd unconsciously start to mirror that, becoming a bit more talkative and getting a little of his pep back. I've seen it a lot before where people have Sneasler as not really being interested in battling, so I think it'd be fun if Lilligant loved fighting, but because she's a noble she doesn't really get to. But Ingo and his team are more than happy to! And as that's the time when he's at his most lively I can see that being when they most mirror and feed off each other's enthusiasm.

Pokemon rabies! Good going Volo, you introduced rabies into Hisui. That'd actually be kinda cool to explore as part of the whole "seek out all pokemon" thing, since the one surefire way to break it is to catch them. Arceus was being literal, seek out and capture all of the pokemon in Hisui in order to break any traces of the frenzy "virus" growing in them. It'd be very catch-and-release, like feral cat neutering programs lol, though they'd have to find a way to tag them to know they were already caught before.

From the original premise you wrote, Giratina tearing rifts open all over the place is continually breaking the hall of origin, which sounds really bad. It probably means that Arceus couldn't leave even if it wanted to, because it has to be there it mend things as they break. So stopping the distortions would be a priority, but the problem is how they would know that. Ingo also needs to go to the hall of origin to retrieve the part of him that's stuck there lol. So in order of urgency: 1. Close the distortions and find out what's causing them to stop them for good, 2. Catch all pokemon to stop the spread of the frenzy (if we go that route). 3. Get Ingo and the protag into the hall of origin to fight Arceus, get Ingo's missing piece back, and secure them a way back home. Not sure how we could fit the massive mass outbreaks into this, though it'd be nice if we could. If we wanted to deviate even more from canon, we could also say that the distortion bubbles, while not as common as they are in the game, are worse because not all of the pokemon leave when it closes, so now you have disoriented, violent, infected, potentially non-native pokemon running around wherever they were. But that might be too much.

YEAH shkjshjkh everyone else is like no offense ingo but your home/clan's home is too cold and it sucks and we don't want to go there until we absolutely have to. and he's like no that's fair i get it it's my least favorite thing about it also. and yeah, i think even the fieldlands are fairly chilly depending on the season so arezu Will very much appreciate cyndaquil. maybe that's even why she was given it in the first place? bc she's just like, cold constantly?

kamado's so mad he's like STOP BRINGING POKEMON INTO THE VILLAGE but nobody else is listening, sorry, they've been lured by the siren song of income. jubilife is The pokemon destination now and he can't stop it. but yeah, pokemon do probably enjoy being groomed i think! especially ones who can't do it as well themselves and don't already have a trainer/warden to baby them. so arezu will have plenty of happy customers

i wonder if it's more like, seeing her like that suddenly makes him hyperaware/self-conscious of how much he's changed? bc like, yeah, a lot of it was in that initial fall, but then a lot of it is also just from existing in hisui and being like... adrift without much human contact and vaguely purposeless. and also the decay from the hall of origin, that's not helping. but then he sees lilligant and has that moment of oh, that used to be me, and now has to confront that he's... not. anymore. and that's probably not a great sign. sneasler not being into battle is, interesting? if anything i feel like it'd be the opposite and battling is like, the only part of being a noble she is vaguely interested in. but still, i think calaba says lilligant's been looking forward to another battle if you rechallenge her in the postgame (i think?) so it would make sense that she enjoys battling, too

yeah lol. and then it's not even that the nobles are specially targeted, it's just that they're susceptible, so all it takes is a bad exposure and suddenly they're falling prey to it, too... mmm i do like that, just vibeswise. and then lol, yeah. have them wear the pokeballs like the bell collars for cats

ooh, what if, to expand on what you said—the distortions aren't just leaving pokemon behind, but they actually won't close at all until the protagonist does something to them? maybe they need to catch all the pokemon inside them or like. point the arc phone at it. or something. point is, it mirrors the breaking/mending of the hall of origin bc hisui itself is also getting the constant rift cracks. and maybe part of the protag's job here was to fix them, bc if they accumulate too long, reality will start to fray and it'll mirror into the hall of origin and the whole edifice will start to collapse. so instead of just defrenzying the noble of a region and leaving, job done, they're constantly running around between all the regions as the rifts appear and resealing them? idk, it's a thought

[rebelwhodoesntknow]

NOO I AM TOO I HAVE TOO MUCH TO SAY LOL it's been super fun chatting abt it!!!

Resellers are also insane like... the SH Figures costed about $40-50 dollars when they released, which is still a ton but htat's typidal for that brand of figures since they have all the artciulation and stuff, but yeah the prices now are insane!!!! any aikatsu stuff is like so impossible to get here 😭 I've had the angely bear plushie on my wishlist for ages

the cards are so funny because most of them are just printed from the arcade machine itself when you would win them by playing, people would sell one single PR set for like $100. for shiny cards that were so so easy to get for the cost of playing like 5 rounds lmao

Hmm I don't think that the games would help with learning dances though, shot for shot they're the same as the stages in the anime. But there are also a toooon of dance covers out there if you want something with a clearer angle!!

I wish they had done some of the photokatsu songs in Parade, but they did do one in one of the recent movies so maybe if they ever do more stuff someday they'll adapt more?? I want to see the dances!!!! Espescially kindan hide & seek!

I agree about Raki, I think it's fine that she wasn't that much of a character but literally what did they gain from just not having the wings later/transforming her jeweling dress from her own PR... I don't even know how it would cut costs much they just Did That

I occasionally still see the sh figures at 50 dollars, but they’re usually missing some pieces. It seems that the market for Aikatsu things is small but extremely expensive. The cards are so funny to me because it seems like they function in price almost exactly like Pokémon cards. Are they shiny in some way? More money! I’m seeing these girls pajama shorts on Mercari being sold for *checks listing* 66 DOLLARS? Dear god… they have the tag on them too for like 1500 yen you’ve got to be kidding

I have used some dance covers to help out with learning and filling in the gaps! The camera angles the stages use are very pretty, but also very confusing. The hardest part for me now is stamina. Singing and dancing at the same time like that is freaking exhausting (I am a singer but not a dancer) but I’ve nearly got Idol Activity perfect! I think I’m going to do Start Line next but that may be a very bad idea considering how impressive it is vocally on top of the dance.

I haven’t listened as much to Photokatsu due to lack of performances, but I’m just getting into it! Dramatic Girl my beloved. I hope they will add performances to those! That reminds me, do the songs without performances in Aikatsu get them in the game? Like Lovely Bomb was used as a background song, but is it featured in the arcade games? If it is I need to learn it immediately I’m obsessed with that song

As for Raki, I guess they saved on transformation animation…

Don’t worry I also have a whole fucking lot to say about this! We are just vibing

[batwritings]

I know I sent in something earlier- but I can't stop thinking about this (also if this makes you uncomfortable I apologize- you don't have to write it)

Dream and Sapnap and they're sharing the reader and theyre degrading and praising the reader, giving them commands over a video call- slowly making the reader their slut- and so it slowly becomes a regular thing where they all call and just go at it

being shared over a call by sap and dream > literally anything else

there's just something about being shared by them just seems so hot to me- is that bad?????also I apologize again for having sending in alot of asks- I just have smut brainrot (specifically sapnap)

-🦔

....hot damn! You’re on fire today!! Legit if you ever want to simp over this man, hmu my discord is in a previous ask (or you could message me on here but only if you’re comfortable!). Enjoy~!

Warning! There will be some degradation and talk of subspace in here! Please be careful when reading!!

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Your breath came in heavy pants as you followed the instructions from the two men in your ears. You’re watching the two men watching you back as your one hand was rubbing furiously over your sex. Your other was stroking along your neck, pretending it was Dream’s. You were so, so close to your orgasm you could almost taste it.

“Slow down slut,” came Dream’s voice, hard and commanding. “Not going to have you cumming this early, or without permission.”

Reluctantly, the hand that was touching your sex slowed to an agonizing pace. You knew the punishment you would get if you disobeyed, and while it was honestly so damn tempting, you knew better.

“So good for us,” sang Sapnap’s praise. “So sweet and obedient.”

“Th-thank you sirs,” you slur out, getting delirious from how much they had edged you over the course of the better part of an hour.

“As they should be,” Dream spat, watching you intently for any sign of deviation. “Whores like them only know how to beg and obey. Isn’t that right Y/N?”

You whine at his words, adoring the degradation along with the praise. “Yes Sir,” you respond weakly.

Dream smirks and nods. “Faster.”

Immediately your speed picks up, hand tightening along your throat. You could feel your orgasm tingling along your spine. It was taking all your mental capacity for you to even find the words, but you eventually sputter out, “Gonna cum. Please. Can I?”

Dream hums in fake contemplation. “That’s all that’s on your mind isn’t it?” he says with a disgusted tone. “Pathetic. But I suppose it can’t be helped. What do you think Sapnap?”

“I think we should let them,” he says, slowly stroking his own member. “They’re so pretty when they cum. And they have been pretty good.”

You’re barely holding on at this point, forcing your climax back by sheer will.

Finally, Dream clicks his tongue and looks you dead in the eyes over the computer screen. “Fine, fine,” he sighs. “Cum for us you stupid whore.”

Your end hits you like a freight train, nearly knocking the wind out of you as you cry out in pleasure. Your whole body tightens in on itself in your computer chair as you ride out your orgasm, barely having the mind to follow Dream’s instruction of tightening your hold on your neck. The praise from Sapnap is a mere fuzz in your ear as you collapse back, panting heavily.

“I hope you don’t think you’re done,” Dream’s harsh words cut through the fog in your brain and you lift your eyes to look at him properly. “That was round one. Go get the present I so kindly got you.”

You nod, shakily standing from your chair to retrieve the box that had come earlier that day. Inside was a lovely little vibe, but no remote. You pulled the tag keeping it from being tested and brought it back to your desk.

“Put it inside for us sugar,” Sapnap asks kindly and you do so.

Before you can begin to question them you feel the toy turn on, at what had to have been the highest setting. All the air feels like it’s pulled from your lungs, a bit of pain mixing with the pleasure. You tear your bleary eyes open to see both boys fiddling with their phones on your screen. Oh. There’s the remote...er, remotes.

“Surprised?” Dream asks with a knowing smirk. “We figured you’d deserve some form of reward, for a lowly slut that is.”

You moan loudly at his words, babbling out a string of curses mixed with “thank you sirs”.

“Aw,” Sapnap coos, breathing a little quicker now. He lowers the setting from his end to watch you squirm as he strokes himself. “You’re so cute Y/N. Love it when you get to feel good because of us.”

You whine from the lack of friction only to nearly screech when Dream turns the toy back up again. They keep you like this for a while, letting you ride the waves of overstimulation and pleasure as they turn the levels up and down. Finally your second climax starts to creep up on you and you beg in a mess of words for your release.

“Cum for us babe,” Sapnap says this time, breathless. “You can cum with me, yeah?” Sure enough the two of you hit your orgasms nearly simultaneously, you nearly bending over with how much pleasure was drilled into you as Dream cranked the level on your vibe.

You’re incoherent when you feel it still going, so you tap on your table twice. All at once sensation stops and even Sapnap’s heavy panting slows to a near halt. “If you can talk, can you give me a color baby?” you hear Dream ask quietly.

It takes a few beats, but you finally mutter a soft, “Red”.

All sternness and venom is gone from Dream’s voice then, him working with Sapnap to praise you on how well you did for them. They’re so quiet and gentle with their words you just might cry as they work you out of subspace slowly. You really were lucky to have them.

[vaspider]

I guess I should give a little update on our local crow family (and tag@neil-gaiman as well because why not).

When we moved to Oregon a couple of years ago, I realized that, oh, shit, there are a million crows in our neighborhood, so I started trying to make friends with them, because one should at least not be enemies with one's local murder.

So I started leaving out food & the like, going out at around the same time every day to put out healthy crow snacks like peanuts. The same mated pair started showing up a lot, and one of them -- the male, I'm assuming, bc he's bigger and the smaller one sits the nest -- started yelling outside our front window if I was 'late' on bringing out breakfast. My spouse started calling him Your Boss, and we decided to call them Crowley & Azirafowl, since this was 2019 and Good Omens had been released not too long before, and this pair fussed over each other constantly.

Anyway, their 2020 shenanigans were a main source of enjoyment for us during quarantine, and we did plenty research on the things we were permitted to feed them and so on. They started bringing that year's fledglings by (they had 3!) and we called them Pepper, Brian, and Adam. They all had very outsized personalities but Pepper was also the spiciest, with a very distinctive croak, and as it turns out, she's the girl, and has stuck around this year, as female crows often do until they pair up themselves. Brian and Adam fucked off, so I'm guessing they were indeed boys. Or possibly they died, but since I have no proof of that, I'm choosing to believe they're out their living their best crow lives.

This year we seem to have one surviving fledgling from a nest that initially had (from what we could hear) 2+, which is pretty normal. Last year was very outsized in terms of how many chicks made it to fledgling stage. Crowley and Azirafowl have started bringing the baby by, but we don't know them well enough to name them yet. They live in the pine tree south of our house, which we can see from the front porch.

There's an oak tree north of our house, which is where Odin and his mini-murder (Freyja, Baldr, and Tyr, who has a broken beak) live. This has led to quite a lot of squabbling when we put out food in the mornings, or when we refresh the cold water in the dish in the backyard, but it's just fussing, and everyone ends up getting fed.

The last few weeks have been pretty exciting in the corvid world, actually, with the following events:

1) Crowley and Pepper chasing a hawk away from the pine tree in an extremely dramatic fashion while Azirafowl hunkered down in the nest and covered the fledglings with her wings. Luckily I had just stepped outside onto the porch and got to see the whole thing. It was a true battle, with the crows divebombing the hawk aggressively and repeatedly until after its third attempt to get in to the nest, it gave up. Seriously, don't piss off crows, especially if you're a hawk. They will kick your ass.

2) When I go outside to put out Approved Crow Snacks in the feeder in the backyard & clean out the water bowl, I always whistle in a way that doesn't resemble any native bird & always in the same way, so they know it's me & have time to get the fledgling up off the ground if I didn't see him before coming outside.

Yesterday, I whistled even though I was 99% sure they weren't in the backyard. They weren't, when I came out, so I set about refreshing the crow snacks & washing out the water bowl so I could put in the ice water. (We're in PDX, so ice water was a definite must.)

While I was in the process of rinsing out the bowl with the hose, I heard a flutterflutter overhead, and casually glanced up a moment later. Crowley was sitting right overhead, staring down at me, perched in the ash tree in our backyard. "Hey, buddy," I greeted, which, again, is the same way I always greet them. Consistent behavior = crow friends. Then I went back to working, and just sort of casually talked to him, and he -- for the first time -- started 'conversing' with me, making little 'crrk!' noises when I finished a sentence, or paused in talking during my tasks.

I chatted with him until I was done, put out the ice water, and went most of the way back inside, pausing where I was as far away as I could be and still be outside. He moved as if he was about to take off, then realized I was still outside, and cawed once and loudly at me, so I took the hint, and went inside. He waited until he could see me in the kitchen window, so I was well and properly inside, and then came down for his snacks and sips.

So I guess now the crows know that when I'm whistling, that means there's about to be clean water and fresh food.

Also, Crowley had to come supervise and make sure I was doing things properly.

To close, here's a picture of Crowley giving me a Sassy Look while perched on the water bowl. The weird wire in the picture is the grape vine trellis the original owner put up, which is across the whole back of the house.