#I'm figuring out common problems in real-time

[wizard-of-interesting-failure]

"I don't understand. Why isn't he getting up?"

"Wh- you killed him!"

"Don't be silly, death isn't real."

"You cast Finger of Death!"

"I cast Lightning Bolt too; they name spells after fake shit all the time."

"Lightning is real too!!"

"Oh come on. Next you'll be telling me color is a thing."

"...have you ever actually been outside this cavern?"

"What's a cavern?"

"It's where we are right now!"

"Odd name for it, but yes, of course I have. Been this way, that way, through there is a lovely group of giant spiders..."

"We, ah. Might have killed those on our way here."

"Don't be silly, death isn't real."

"...right. Where do you think we came from?"

"Eh, somewhere. Weird shit shows up all the time."

"I-"

"Oh! Your friend there startled me and it totally slipped my mind; would you care for some tea? I don't drink it myself, but I keep some on hand for guests."

"...okay, listen. These are the Caverns of Chaos. Everything in here is self-replenishing. The prevailing theory was that they existed to protect a central chamber. We've spent weeks down here slogging through unimaginable horrors to make it there and you're going to, what, play dumb?"

"Okay now you're just being rude. I am not dumb! There might not be much to do around here, but I do my best to keep my mind sharp. I'd like to see you figure out as much as I have about the ever-shifting layout of the world!"

"We did! That's how we got here! Have you never tried scrying the outside?"

"Scrying spells are some sort of prank, best I can tell; they never seem to do anything except give me a headache."

"Cast one up."

"I don't really want to give myself a-"

"Just do it! At least 2000 meters."

"Alright, but I don't see...what..."

"..."

"...colors?"

"Yeah, the whole dungeon is monochrome for some reason, we think-"

"Lightning?"

"Well, if there's a storm, I suppose-"

"Death?"

"...death?"

"There's...more like your friend."

"What do you mean-"

"Why aren't they moving?"

"I don't-"

"I'm moving. I can move. See? They look like me. Why aren't they moving?"

"They're- there are skeletons? We just came from-"

"Am I going to stop moving?"

"No, you-"

"Why isn't your friend moving?"

"..."

"...he's...'dead'. Isn't he. I 'killed' him."

"...listen, just calm down, we can-"

"Oh, yes, of course! I could never figure out what these spells for making 'un-dead' were for, but they must be for fixing this! I'll just-"

"NO!"

"But he's-"

"We're handling it!"

"No you're not! Whatever you're doing, it's not working."

"How can you-"

"You're trying to draw power from something that's not there. I've done it a few times, don't feel bad, it's a common mistake."

"I'm drawing power from my goddess! There's no way she's..."

"What is a goddess? Is it that little symbol you're carrying around? It doesn't seem to have any power in it."

"...it...why can't I feel her?"

"Just let me do it, I can-"

"We're not letting you turn Steve into some kind of undead abomination!"

"Wh- but he wasn't dead before!"

"He was alive, you stupid thing!"

"Right, not dead. Un-dead. I'll just make him un-dead again and then we can..."

"Why has she forsaken me?"

"We can..."

"Why won't she answer??"

"Color...lightning...death..."

audible weeping

"They're like me...why aren't they moving?"

"It's probably just the Caves messing with the divine connection, we should-"

"Should I not be moving?"

extended wailing

"Is un-dead not like 'alive'?"

"Listen, I know we didn't have this problem before, but-"

"Is there something wrong with being un-dead?"

"OF COURSE THERE IS, YOU STUPID UNDEAD THING! STEVE IS DEAD, THE GODDESS WON'T LISTEN TO ME, AND YOU'RE JUST...just..."

"...just what?"

"..."

"What am I?"

"..."

"WHAT AM I???"

the cavern shakes

"Listen, just calm down, we'll-"

"Why is he dead? Why are they all dead?"

"All wh-"

"The ones you made me scry on!"

"Oh my god, we forgot about-"

"Why aren't they moving??"

"We don't know! What else did you see?"

"Colors, lightning, death..."

"What else??"

"Colors, lightning, death..."

the lich collapses into a fetal position, rocking back and forth

"Listen, this is important, you need to-"

someone attempts to shake the lich. A sudden pulse of darkness slams them into the opposite wall.

"Colors, lightning, death..."

"Just calm down, we can-"

"GODDESS? WHERE ARE YOU??"

"Colors, lightning, death..."

the party leader buries her face in her hands. The healer weeps and wails. The lich, seemingly catatonic, continues mumbling to himself. This goes on for a while.

"..."

"Right. Okay. That's enough of this. We're taking Steve's body and leaving. We wouldn't have a chance against a lich in this state anyway. Keep trying to revive him as we go, we'll-"

"...lich?"

"Yes, yes, you don't know anything about anything, it's very funny, har har, we're done here. Go back to giving yourself headaches or whatever it is you do all day."

"I'm coming with you."

"...what?"

"You know what I am. You know about places that aren't 'caverns'. You know about colors, lightning, and death. I need to come with you."

"No offence, buddy, but you don't exactly seem like adventuring material."

"Please! Don't you need to find out why all those people are...'dead'? I can speak with dead, I guess, if it's a real thing."

"..."

"We are not taking this THING that killed Steve with us!"

"...we probably are going to need help with whatever is going on up there."

"He might be lying!"

the party leader gestures at the utterly guileless lich. The healer turns away.

"...fine."

"Thank you."

"Just...keep him away from me."

The party improvises a stretcher as the lich gathers up his meager possessions. A thick silence reigns as the group shuffles out the only exit, the lich awkwardly following at a distance.

"Wait, I forgot my maps-"

"We'll be fine. Just stay back there, okay? You've caused enough trouble for one day."

Nodding hesitantly, the lich steps over the threshold, leaving his cavern for the last time.

It turns out that the lich the adventurers had been hired to slay had never actually killed anyone before until the impulsive paladin of the group swung first. Now, as the healer tries to revive them, the rest have to calm the ancient undead mage down from what is undeniably a panic attack.

[k3n-dyll]

♱Sinful Deeds

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 ; 18+, wlw, fem!reader, lots of religious themes, internalized homophobia, religious guilt, sex in a church, cheating, blasphemy, reader's husband is an ass, dom!Abby, sub!reader, inexperienced!reader (with women), oral(r!receiving), fingering (r!receiving), spit, corruption (?)

𝐖𝐂 - 3k

𝐊𝐞𝐧'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 ☆ Read the content warnings, if it's not your thing just scroll ♡ . Also can't lie, I rushed the end a little I'm sorry I need to clear my drafts.

Priest!Abby who worked hard all her life to get where she is. Under her father's encouragement, she's made a good name for herself within a small community in this town. Despite setbacks, of course. To be ordained a priest, and to be a young woman is to be criticized - she'd known that from the beginning. Many people consider her a fraud. Consider her a disgrace amongst the church. Initially, her ordination damn near started a riot in front of the very chapel she preaches in.

That, she figured, would be the worst of it. The defamatory statements and the nasty rumors spread about her character and her morals; many families that had originally attended the church back when her father ran it either reluctantly accepted her or left the congregation entirely.

She had her days, of course. Where the rude comments and the disrespect nearly got to her. Nearly caused her to drop any semblance of professionalism within her body and let herself get angry. But with her trust in God and her strength of faith - all of the bitterly uttered words about her, the vitriol thrown her way - it slid right off of her like water off of a ducks feathered back.

If you were to ever ask her, she'd say that her real problems began with you. The day you had walked into the chapel in the midst of her sermon which was - ironically enough - pertaining to marriage, and sat down with your husband in the very back pew so as not to disturb anyone with your tardiness. It's almost shameful how vividly she remembers the dress you'd worn that day; a pretty, pale yellow number that stopped just above your ankles. The color combined so beautifully with your skin and brought out your eyes even from her place up front, the pleats of the modest dress flowing around your legs with each quiet step you'd taken. She'd been so tempted to take her speech elsewhere to get a better look at you. Tempted to stray from her stance behind the pulpit just to stare at you up close.

Temptation. The issue you had brought with your presence alone. Abby couldn't blame you, of course, she'd been dealing with these urges since she was a teenager and well...she's not perfect by any means. She's had her fair share of one-night stands and flings - a much looser version of herself that she normally keeps well hidden from the members of her church.

She'd been damn near giddy when she finally got the chance to speak to you once the service was over, only to find herself disappointed again at the way your husband seemed to interject himself into any conversation she attempted to start with you.

"Hello..." She said, a small smile plastered on her lips. Despite the way she had trained herself to speak to every person in the church with a similar, if not the same amount of intrigue and attention, her eyes never once left you as she spoke. "I don't believe I've had the pleasure of meeting either of you before?" You nodded, offering a polite smile back to her, but before you could even open your mouth to say something, your husband had piped up, introducing himself first, and then you as his wife.

Over time, Abby began to notice that it's a quite common behavior for your husband - the man often using your learned timidity as an opportunity to speak over you at every turn. And he often gets his way.

She'd seen it before. In the church, it's a tale as old as time; a man on a power trip marries a young woman who's likely been taught how to be a good and 'proper' wife from the moment she was born - quiet, submissive, a pretty doll that he can have on his arm but never actually have to listen to.

Priest!Abby who, after giving her sermons, preaching to others about self-control, and willing themselves against sin - finds herself with her hand stuffed down her boxers late at night in her bed, thick fingers curled deep into her pussy, a small, pink bullet pulsating in the other against her clit, touching herself to the thought of you. You're so sweet, and quiet, and delicate... and breakable. The image of you beneath her naked, writhing and panting underneath her touch is so clear in her mind, the blonde practically whimpering as she cums at the thought of your pretty body being so overwhelmed with pleasure that you shake and twitch at the lightest brush of her fingers.

She figured she'd never have you. As much as she craved it, as much as she wanted to trail her hands along your bare curves, Abby knew well in her mind that you would stay loyal and dedicated to the man you married. Still, the day you come to her alone with the intent to confess, excitement wells up in in her at the potential opportunity.

Saturday afternoons for Abby were generally the same, spending her time sitting on the other side of the partition in the small confession booth and listening to the perceived wrongdoings of those in her congregation. Most of the time she doesn't remember. She doesn't even put in the effort to recognize the voices of those she advises, as figuring out who committed what sin and who didn't isn't really what she's here for, but the moment she hears your voice - that soft, melodic tone of yours that she's fantasized about for weeks on end - she can't seem to help herself.

You aren't used to this kind of thing - it's never gotten this bad to the point where you feel you need to confess...but you can only run from your own mind so much. The silence is deafening as you settle yourself into the booth, and it only serves to make you more nervous. You can hear the subtle sound of Abby's breathing, the rhythmic thumping of your own heart pumping. Shakily, you sign the cross over your body, nipping at the very tip of your thumbnail before you speak.

"Forgive me...for I have sinned" you murmur. "This...this is my first confession."

You speak a lot more than you had originally intended, spilling your guts to the woman on the other side of the screen, the somewhat private setting making it easier for you to let go of everything you'd been suppressing. Abby's almost shocked to hear about your struggles with your urges. Your desires to be with someone that isn't your husband. With someone that isn't even a man in the first place. Years of training herself is the only thing that stops her from showing her irritation at the way you deem these things deeply immoral as well as, selfishly, her elation at the idea that she may have a chance.

Abby is silent for a moment after you finish speaking, letting herself sit with her thoughts, trying and failing not to allow her own greedy desires consume her mind though unbeknownst to her, her quiet only causes the pit of dread in your stomach to swell. It's when she clears her throat that you tense up even more, preparing yourself to be scolded, or worse, kicked out. You've seen it happen before - people shunned and shamed for so much as thinking of the same sex in that way.

"You aren't in any trouble child, calm down." She says finally and you realize you've been tapping your nails rhythmically against the wooden wall. Though she can't see you, you nod and stop, transferring the little assault to your thigh.

Abby knows full well that she should just wrap this up. She should give you something to do - tell you to say a prayer, to beg Christ for mercy on your soul in hopes that these 'immoral' thoughts stop weighing on you, but Abby of all people knows that it doesn't work that way. Not with this.

Before Abby can stop herself, she's already asked you up to her office, shocked by the lack of resistance to her request. Closing the door behind her, she stands, eyeing your frame as you take a seat in front of her desk. She can practically see the anxiety seeping through your pores - the constant tapping at your leg, the shifting in your spot. Without much thought, she walks over and places a hand on your shoulder, squeezing gently to calm you down.

"This isn't something I typically do." She starts. "I honestly probably shouldn't be doing this right now at all, but I do think we need to talk. No judgment, no barriers, okay?"

You nod but your body is still rigid, the warmth of her large palm on your shoulder is almost enough to send tingles through your body, guilt swarming in your gut at the unconscious reaction.

"I could just send you on your way. I could tell you to repent and beg and plead with God to make you better but..." Abby sighs, removing her hand from your shoulder to stand at her desk, leaning up against it to face you as she tries to think of ways to word what she wants to say. "...I don't want to lie to you."

"Lie to me?" You ask, dumbfounded, to which Abby just chuckles quietly. She knows what the Bible says is law to you, and to hear a priest refute that in any way is likely confusing.

"What I'm saying is: this isn't something that can be prayed away. No matter how badly you may want it to be, it simply isn't."

You shake your head at her words, finding it ridiculous. Or at least you want to, but deep down you know she's right. You've tried praying more than enough times to know that it will end in nothing changing. Still, you're stubborn.

"But my husband. I-I love him"

"Do you?"

"I-" The lie dies in the back of your throat. The fact that you can't bring yourself to answer confidently, or at all for that matter is all the confirmation Abby needs. A beat of silence passes before Abby says anything else, giving you time to sit in your lack of certainty before moving on.

"That's not to say I don't have a...solution in mind" As she speaks, she inches close until she's standing directly in front of you, forcing you to crane your neck to look up at her towering frame above your seated one. Your senses suddenly feel foggy, the scent of pine and musk filling your nose, your eyes unable to focus anywhere but on the stretched fabric outlining her biceps and torso. You could swear she wears a uniform that size just to show off. You blink a few times in a failed attempt to snap yourself out of it.

"I thought you said there was no way to fix it"

Abby's eyes darken, a soft chuckle escaping her at your words. "No. It can't be 'fixed', honey. Desires like that don't just go away... but they can be satiated. Temporarily at least." Gently, she catches your chin between her thumb and forefinger to keep you looking at her.

"I'm...I'm married, it wouldn't be right. I can't do that to him.." You start in half-hearted protest, the implication of her words clear. Your eyes shift to the side, though you make no move to pull away.

"He isn't a factor right now. My focus is you" The pad of her thumb lightly grazes against your lower lip. "Look, I won't push you. If that's not something you want to do, I understand, but really, how long do you think you can keep pretending, hm ? How long until you break?"

Your eyes flutter as she leans closer, the sensation of her warm breath on your skin sending shivers through your spine.

"I've been so...good at pretending..." Your voice is little more than a whisper, melting into her touch despite the alarms going off in your mind. You push it back. "I don't think I can do it anymore..."

"Oh, baby I know..."

It's only a split second between the words leaving her mouth and her lips pressing against yours, her strong palms cupping your cheeks. Though her hands are rough to the touch her hold on you is gentle. Reverent, even. Her fingers ghosting along your skin as if you're a precious jewel she's afraid to shatter. It's slow, yet overwhelming - her kisses tracing a path from your lips to your neck, from neck to collarbone. You feel her begin to massage your thighs, kneading them over the fabric of your dress before getting impatient and slipping them just underneath it.

You should be disgusted with yourself. Disgusted with her. With this. But the ungodly, hungry way at which she kisses and nips at your flesh only brings on an excitement within you that feels almost wild. Like something that had been leashed and caged within you was finally let free. You should pray. But instead of clasping together your hands begin to weave into Abby's hair, gripping and tugging at it to keep her close. The priestess whines at the sensation and you swear her knees buckle. That or her will is hanging by an invisible thread because she sinks to her knees in front of you.

"Let me taste you.." She breathes out, her gaze shifting from your face to your thighs, her hands still rubbing at them, slowly inching the skirt of your dress up further.

You think to hesitate but your body may as well be on autopilot, the mere thought of having her head between them enough to slowly pry your legs open without much coaxing. It'd be embarrassing if Abby didn't seem just as desperate as you.

Her hand slips between your thighs the second they're apart, a thick finger trailing along your slit just over your panties, the wet spot that's formed there amusing to her.

"See what I do to you?" She asks, a small, cocky smirk playing at her lips. "He could never get you like this, we both know it"

All you can do is give a pathetic nod and an even more pitiful whine as Abby teases you, her face inching closer until she's nosing your clothed clit, vivid blues unblinking as she takes in your reaction.

"Please, Abby..." You plea needily, voice cracking despite your attempts to sound stable.

She's merciful to you, wasting no time or words in pushing your panties to the side, parting her lips to allow her mouth to water freely, the coolness of her saliva sliding along your slit sending a jolt of electricity through your senses. Her fingers are first, the blonde collecting the slick mixture of spit and arousal to coat the two of the digits and carefully pushing them inside before she flicks her tongue teasingly against your clit.

Maybe you should feel guilt for this - unashamedly allowing a member of the clergy of all people, to defile you in such a way in a holy place. Throwing your head back, clasping your hands against the armrests of your seat, moaning and whining obnoxiously under the corruption of her tongue. Maybe you would feel guilty. If only it didn't feel so fucking good.

A loving deity would not deprive you of this feeling, at least that's how you justify it in your head as you cry out for more, eyes screwed shut as previously suppressed vulgarities spill past your lips.

"Abby, fuck, just like that - please!" Your cries are loud, tone little less than whorish in nature. "F-feels so fucking good, oh God"

Abby chuckles against you at that, but she doesn't speak. While the irony of you calling out for God amuses her somewhat, she can't tease. She can barely bring herself to pull away from you, her mouth and chin covered, glistening with your wetness, fingers ruthlessly sloshing in and out of your fluttering walls. You're like a drug to her in this moment. Something to be desired. Worshipped.

She finds her free hand stuffed down her slacks, her own core throbbing with need as she admires the pornographic image of your body writhing before her. The low vibrations that come from Abby's muffled moans only send you that much closer to the edge. Only that much closer to the release your body has practically been begging for and yet could never receive at the hands of your husband.

When your thighs clamp against her head, her jaw worn and slightly pained, she doesn't let up even a little bit, lapping at you with her tongue as if watching you unravel was critical to her existence. It just might be with how intently she stares up at you, not letting a drop of your cum escape her mouth as you finally let go, fingers still slipping in and out of you in languid motions. Abby's completely disregarded her own need in place of your own, her hand stilled in her boxers, something she only realizes when you begin to calm down.

"You didn't-" You start to question her, pushing golden strands away from her freckled face with your hand when you notice.

"It's okay, baby" She interrupts, her words coming as a pleased murmur. "This wasn't about me"

You shake your head a little, but before you can protest she's pulled you toward her, her pink puffed lips catching your own in a messy kiss, strings of saliva and cum breaking between your mouths with each breath taken. You let it happen for a while. It's oddly...comfortable. A sense of warmth calming your body in a way it hasn't in a long time before this.

As if on cue, a loud, grating tune breaks the illusion. The sound of a phone ringing. Your phone.

The 4 missed calls from your husband stare reality back into you both and utter dread sends that all too familiar chill through your bones once again.

Donations 4 Palestine - TLOU2 Masterlist

Taglist ; @half-of-a-gay, @porcelainmystery , @tohoko, @rkivedpages, @misfits-army-van,

@andersonfilms,

[icaruspendragon]

At last, wars will be over and the fkin "democrats" will not pump people's money into other country's war just so they can watch from far away and play makeshift god. GO TRUMP GO COMMON SENSE FUCK LIBERALS

INT. WAREHOUSE – NIGHT

DEAN and BOBBY are seated on tables, swinging their legs and looking bored.

DEAN
You sure you did the ritual right?
(BOBBY gives him a look)
Sorry. Touchy, touchy, huh?

As if on cue, a loud rattling shakes the roof. DEAN and BOBBY arm themselves with shotguns and take positions at the far end of the warehouse.

DEAN
Wishful thinking, but maybe it's just the wind.

The door bursts open and a handsome man in a business suit and trenchcoat stalks in CASTIEL.

The light bulbs above his head shatter in a shower of sparks as he passes them. As he approaches, DEAN and BOBBY both open fire, but the shots do not even slow him down. Dean takes the MAGIC KNIFE as CASTIEL gets close.

DEAN
Who are you?

CASTIEL
I'm the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition. 

DEAN
Yeah. Thanks for that. 

DEAN rears back and plunges the MAGIC KNIFE into CASTIEL'S chest and hits heart without any effects. CASTIEL looks down, unconcerned, and pulls it out, drops it to the floor. Behind him, BOBBY attacks; without looking, CASTIEL grabs BOBBY'S weapon and uses it to swing him around. CASTIEL touches BOBBY on the forehead with fingertips and BOBBY crumples to the ground.

CASTIEL
We need to talk, Dean. Alone. 


END ACT FOUR

ACT FIVE

DEAN crouches over BOBBY, checking his pulse. He glares at CASTIEL. 

CASTIEL
Your friend's alive. 

DEAN
Who are you?

CASTIEL
Castiel.

DEAN
Yeah, I figured that much, I mean what are you?

CASTIEL
I'm an Angel of the Lord. 

DEAN
Get the hell out of here. There's no such thing. 

CASTIEL
This is your problem, Dean. You have no faith. 

Lightning flashes, and on CASTIEL'S back great shadowy wings appear, stretching off into the distance. The light goes out and the image disappears. 

DEAN
Some angel you are. You burned out that poor woman's eyes. 

CASTIEL
I warned her not to spy on my true form. It can be... overwhelming to humans, and so can my real voice. But you already knew that. 

DEAN
You mean the gas station and the motel. That was you talking? (CASTIEL nods.) Buddy, next time, lower the volume. 

CASTIEL
That was my mistake. Certain people, special people, can perceive my true visage. I thought you would be one of them. I was wrong.

DEAN
And what visage are you in now, huh? What, holy tax accountant?

CASTIEL
This? This is... a vessel. 

DEAN
You're possessing some poor bastard?

CASTIEL
He's a devout man, he actually prayed for this. 

DEAN
Well, I'm not buying what you're selling, so who are you really?

CASTIEL
(frowning) I told you.

DEAN
Right. And why would an angel rescue me from Hell?

CASTIEL
Good things do happen, Dean. 

DEAN
Not in my experience. 

CASTIEL
What's the matter? You don't think you deserve to be saved?

DEAN
Why'd you do it?

CASTIEL
Because God commanded it. Because we have work for you.

[notmorbid]

all-night pharmacy.

dialogue prompts from all-night pharmacy by ruth madievsky.

you're so alive, it's scary.

being a person doesn't come naturally for me.

what's the deal with this place?

you are my best and my worst friend.

are we horrible people?

i like the idea of having someone to come home to.

i can't tell if you're being cruel or if you're just dumb.

these aren't the decisions of a well-adjusted person.

the less you know about my life, the better.

everyone here is a liar and a cheat.

you deserve to have a life of your own.

a person can't be held responsible for what they don't know.

all relationships are transactional.

no one should have that much power over you.

it isn't too late to come back.

you're uninvited from my birthday party.

i love you, but you're such a cunt.

who do you think you are?

forced intimacy makes me lightheaded.

i know you're in there. let me in.

jesus. why do you have a knife?

what happened last night?

it was less embarrassing to pretend i didn't care.

maybe i'm not the mothering type.

i wish i could carry some of this pain for you.

i need a break from feeling so much all the time.

sometimes i can't tell if i'm asleep or awake.

whatever's going on, we'll figure it out.

i don't know what's wrong with me. i'm scared all the time.

this is the most i can imagine for myself.

if you're not asking yourself 'am i ruining my life?' at least once a day, you're not living at all.

you act like you're over it, but it's okay if you're not.

all my life, i've felt like a dead animal with its skin still on.

it's a virtue to rid yourself of anything that doesn't serve you.

i've never had a day of rest in my life.

i chase after you like a dog, leaving pieces of myself behind, and every time, you act like that's how it's supposed to be.

you don't take me seriously. i'm not a real person to you.

i can't play house anymore.

never say that name in front of me.

to you, other people are always the problem.

you can't reach a mutual understanding without spilling blood.

want to make fifty bucks?

the only way to really see a person is to lose everything you have in common.

you don't think we'll get caught?

our loyalty is to story, not reality.

just don't do anything that could result in a lawsuit or a tmz article, and you're fine.

i don't have the energy to keep up with your antics.

our most beloved delusion was that lying to each other was a kind of love.

speaking our fears aloud won't save us.

one day, the mask slipped. i haven't been able to wear it since.

i try not to think about my life at all.

a junkie can spot another junkie without a flashlight.

your voice reminds me of wool sweaters.

boundaries? i don't know her.

i'm just sick of doing the same goddamn thing every day.

you are obsessed with a projection that will never love you back.

think of me as a spiritually connected friend.

i know liars. you don't strike me as one.

you have iconically poor judgment.

has anyone ever told you about your past lives?

you're capable of tolerating a lot. frankly, more than you should.

friendship can be a slow burn. you don't have to consume it like a drink at last call.

i'll give you a clue. i work for myself.

you make me want to feel things again.

criticism is still a cousin of attention.

you don't have to pretend to like something just because i made it.

i know you crave being told what to do.

you don't have to settle for being a person things happen to.

you have desires. act on them.

bitch, does this look like an intro to philosophy seminar?

i thought i had quit you.

my favorite. how did you know?

i feel like my organs are cannibalizing each other.

how did i get here? that's not a rhetorical question. i'm actually asking.

i can't tell if i believe it, or if i'm making excuses for myself.

sometimes i wonder if it's healthy how much meaning you see in things.

you're always waiting for the universe to hurt you or to love you. usually in that order.

that's how it was in my family. reading the room was a survival skill.

where will all the animals go in the rapture?

a bunch of fuckups under one roof doesn't constitute a family.

my little saint.

time passes more slowly as a sober person.

you'd better not pull away from me now.

there's a russian proverb that goes, 'so much is ruined by saying it aloud'.

you wear your emotions like a name tag.

your resting face frightens me.

how are you both the most innocent and the most experienced person i've ever met?

i need you to just be here with me.

our dead deserve to see you happy.

i like the idea of being marked by you.

i don't know what i saw, but it was more than i wanted.

i know what i saw.

i can't tell which of the memories are real, if any.

i can't believe you're mine.

nobody warned me how terrifying it is to get what you want.

you're cute when you're freaked out.

sex is supposed to be unsettling.

there are things i need to atone for.

you can't go back like it's nothing.

i won't live in service of my dead's vision for me.

___ was a real person. a murder isn't a metaphor.

count five things you can see. four things you can touch. three things you can hear. two things you can smell. one thing you can taste.

banish one god, and you'll end up worshiping another.

i want to be with you, but i don't want to keep feeling like this.

you know everything about me, but you won't let me know you.

you aren't someone i can keep at a distance.

i've been reading about intergenerational curses.

resisting something isn't the same as not wanting it.

anything you say stays between us.

i can't decide if i like you.

most people only possess a third of the empathy they think they have.

will it get easier?

hope is a tricky thing: losing it is bad, but so is having too much.

i don't want the future to come. i have a bad feeling about it.

in cartoons, you don't start falling until you look down.

why are you here? where have you been?

how did you know i'd come looking for you?

you never asked what i was going through. you didn't want to know.

i didn't have the language for what was happening to me.

you were supposed to protect me.

there's a lot i don't remember. a lot i don't want to remember.

i wouldn't have looked for me, either.

we belong to ourselves now.

you know where i am, and i know where you are. maybe that's enough.

when i'm down, vigilante justice makes me feel better.

survival is provisional.

[hollowwhisperings]

The difference is much more one of martial status than birth or social station: there is also that Awkward Reality that, while Wei Wuxian behaved & was generally treated as a "Young Master" (due to his fostering & lack of true peers, strength-wise)... there was no sect to stand behind him.

The burning of Lotus Pier left the membership of Yunmeng Jiang to be as follows:

Sect Leader Jiang Wanyin (16/17 years old). Wielder of Sandu & Zidian.

Jiang Yanli (19 y/o ~ early 20's). Non-combatant.

Wei Wuxian (17 y/o). No longer wielding Suiban.

That's it. Everyone else was dead.

There was no Sect, no homebase nor material assets, no elders nor fellow cultivators... nothing & no one to support any of the Jiang siblings, Wei Wuxian included. The only things standing between WWX and a powerhungry mob were WWX himself, "Sandu Shengshou", and Courtesy.

"Courtesy" is what enabled the Jiang to sit in War Councils, the "time" to search for their MIA brother, troops to help them reclaim Lotus Pier, food to eat, allies to guard their backs when they slept. After the War, "Courtesy" kept debtors at bay: all those "loans" (of troops, resources and "good will") accrued during the War to be Repaid (with interest). "Courtesy" kept Yumeng Jiang from being completely overrun by anyone & everyone so they could "have" their Formal Mourning periods. "Courtesy" was what kept Debtors from showing up at the Jiang's doorstep, demanding repayment in the form of Wei Wuxian. The Jin wanted him as a Pet Researcher. Gusu Lan wanted him as an emergency patient. Various minor sect leaders wanted him as a rentable army-of-one, an instructor, a head on a spike (etc). Sandu Shengshou had the "Right" of Outraged Refusal because Courtesy gave him that right, as Wei Wuxian's Sect Leader.

It is this "Courtesy" that Wei Wuxian was not reciprocating.

While we, the readers, Know WWX literally Couldn't (he was a freshly malnourished mortal drinking himself into forgetting the past 2-ish years entirely)... his Sudden Inability to Be Courteous was Dangerous.

(for himself & Yunmeng Jiang, politically; for everyone, as veterans of a very recently ended war)

Yunmeng Jiang didn't really become an Actual Sect again until Jiang Yanli's marriage to Jin Zixuan: her hueband was a powerful ally, being a peer to her brothers in sword cultivation, and a Useful Blockade between the powerhungry (his father, most obviously) and the still-fragile Yunmeng Jiang (without WWX, its martial strength was Jiang Wanyin + his new reputation as "Sandu Shengshou").

That Jin Rulan survived his father's death spoke of Powerful Protectors, Jiang Yanli's death told us who was "Protecting" him: people seeking a "justification" to play Regent to her son-as-figurehead. Without Jin Zixuan, Jiang Yanli & Jin Rulan were effectively hostages of the Jin: Jin Rulan remained a hostage, even despite Jiang Wanyin's best efforts, all the way to the events at the Guanyin Temple.

Yunmeng Jiang was never in a position to protect itself, not after the Burning of Lotus Pier, let alone support its most valuable & dangerous asset (WWX): similarly, the Jiang siblings could not support their brother because, 1) he would not let them & 2) the only one "qualified" to help WWX in the way he needed... was Wen Qing, considered by WWX as being the foremost doctor in the Cultivation World.

The Jiang siblings did not have the skillset of An Actual Medical Doctor nor any "sufficiently" similar traumatic experiences that would allow them to Recognise or Relate to the [horrific ball of poor coping mechanisms & self-destruction] that had so changed their brother: what little WWX recalls from this time is his being Drunk or Trying To Get Drunk (a cheaper effort, with him so "freshly" malnourished & sans a golden liver but still costlier than his family could really afford at that time).

The only people WWX "believed" he could confide in were the Dead, as evidenced by those ghost girls LWJ was so jealous of &, later, Wen Qionglin.

Wen Qing was probably singlehandedly responsible in "postponing" WWX's self-destruction until after [politics] "Shot First": she Knew His Biggest Secret & had a somewhat "comparable" experience to his Surviving the Burial Mounds (via being a POW &, previoisly, Wen Ruohan's personal physician).

Yunmeng Jiang was never famous for its healing arts but, again, the Sect only had three known survivors. The Jiang siblings, meanwhile, could not recognise that WWX's needs were Medical and that "have you tried meditating" was no longer a viable option.

WWX refused any & all help right until Wen Qing, most Esteemed Doctor in the setting (by WWX's reckoning), showed up. That she Knew of his "pre-existing condition" made her uniquely qualified, from WWX's perspective, and her Past as Wen Ruohan's personal physician made her "safe" to confide in (if Wen Qing had not personally witnessed "worse things" than what WWX might confide, she at least had "experience" in concealing any Judgement or Pity).

The circumstances were universally terrible: even if Wei Wuxian had been officially adopted into the Jiang family, made into his younger brother's "heir" in their family register, his lack of a Golden Core & his "refusing" to follow protocol by openly carrying his weapons would still be a Problem.

Nie Huaisang could "get away with" what he did becauae he spent his entire life making him the subject of piteous vitriol, of "humiliating" himself & his Sect. Nie Huaisang was considered a walking joke, publically scorned for his entire life, ridiculed and the only "expectation" that cultivators not of his Sect had for him was "cowardice". He cultivated this image, on purpose, his entire life: if he was seen with a weapon, someone would joke it was more dangerous to NHS than anyone else.

Wei Wuxian had never truly concerned himself with his public image: this is a Plot Point. Jiang Wanyin and Jiang Yanli were little better, when it came to politics: they were their parents' children (but withhout the decades of experience to compensate for it). The only thing that could have made Wei Wuxian's breaking protocol non-problematic, short of having Bao San-Ren fly by to give his dizi her "Seal of Approval" (& threatening imminent mortality on anyone saying otherwise), would be stripping WWX of any power by outing himself as being without a Golden Core. He would additionally need to Destroy the Stygian Tiger Seal with every Sect standing witness, erase his own memories of [developing necromancy], and Lie that the Seal could have only been created in the extreme circumstances of [blatant lies], ideally with Bao San-Ren nodding along to said Lies.

In short: Wei Wuxian was screwed. The extent to which he and his "foil", Jin Guangyao, were "screwed over" by Circumstances Beyond Their Control is matched only, perhaps, by the times everyone was screwed over by Flagrant Miscommunication.

It's why the Juniors are always the "Hope Spot": they talk to each other, witnessing firsthand the Consequences of not doing so.

I like how Nie Huaisang straight up refuses to cultivate and carry a sword and no one has anything to say about that because he’s a sect heir but when Wei Wuxian, son of a servant, does it suddenly it’s a problem.

[asphodelles]

Hi, I found your work on Twitter last year and I really love and look up to your art. If you have the time, I wanted to as if there are there any study topics, artists or techniques that have significantly influenced you :')

I'm at a bit of a complete loss on what to study presently so I thought I'd ask my favorite artists, thank you for reading and I completely understand if this is too open ended a question

Thank you!

This isn't the first time I have been asked this question and I suspect this won't be the last so I'll just lay everything out here. Go to a cafe or get a blanket or something because this will not be a short read:

Foundational:

Anatomy: A lot of my foundational anatomy and clothing illustration knowledge was gained from taking classes and doing observational drawing. Because of this, I'm not going to have the best book recommendations but top 2 books I can recommend for getting Started started are Andrew Loomis or RockHe Kim's books on anatomy (huge asterisk here: they're good at teaching you Basics basics like muscle groups and turning forms and extremely general proportions but will not help that much with making your figure drawings less stiff or how to draw fat or especially in the latter's case how to draw women not built like stick bug anime girls but uh I heard the Morpho books are pretty good. genuinely everything I know about drawing fat is from observational drawing/studies because at some point I got sick of my school for only hiring skinny models in their 20s-30s). I have some diagrams drawn by my friend who studied the hell out of these guys below:

Clothing: I don't know any books that can really help on this front I apologize if I find any I'll update this post but pretty much all of my knowledge on drawing clothes boils down to the following rules: Where are the tension points, how stiff or soft is the textile, how is the form underneath the section of clothing behaving, and don't make even spaces between fold groups

All of this is kind of moot though if it isn't applied through study or observational drawing though

Design:

I have to be really careful here because I don't want to deal in absolutes, the only absolute I'm confident espousing is that anyone who tells you there is only a small selection of methods you should follow to execute a specific type of design are objectively incorrect and just haven't figured out alternative if not more effective design solutions to a common problem. The only real Worst Thing I think you could do as a designer is create a pinterest mannequin devoid of a story, disconnected from its context in the world, and lacking in a clear purpose/personality but this too could be easily be disputed if maximising a character’s aesthetic appeal serves a purpose in its context, and my opposition to this design approach is my personal bias as a character designer for entertainment where emphasizing a character’s function and their relationship to said function is usually the goal

I think the 5 best pieces of advice I've ever received when it comes to designing characters are the following:

Try and follow the rule of thirds/general gestalt design principles of contrast

Always consider what it is you're trying to communicate with the character

Create believable transitions and reinforcements between points of interest

(Entertainment related) KISS principle/Keep It Simple, Stupid is your friend, the way a character wears or wields what they wear or wield will communicate their role in the world (who are they?), their relationship to their role (do they like their job? are they good at it? are they a part of an organization with the means to provide them things to perform their role more effectively?) effectively enough. Excessive information that bloats and conflicts with the communication objective weakens design (example: My favourite childhood toy for years was a pokemon plushie. Would I as a stay at home digital artist be wearing it as a keychain on my crusty paint stained polyester pajama pants when I'm at my desk working my job? is wearing it relevant to my character as a person who both no longer is invested in pokemon and is in this context focused entirely on comfort and doing my job? (no)). I think Elden Ring is an excellent example of a game that has visually complex designs but pretty expedient storytelling with its characters for worldbuilding

Study things that aren't just character design, to borrow from Lynn Yaeger borrowing from Sally Singer "If you're interested in fashion learn everything except fashion... Politics, art, painting- anything except fashion". Because people in different disciplines who work with different mediums or fields of study approach problems in different angles you may not have considered which can help give new ideas + often times the stuff you like was inspired by stuff that isn't at all what you would expect or enjoy yourself (To pull from a very popular example, Arcane is a League of Legends joint which was highly influenced by Warcraft which was highly influenced by Warhammer which was basically a giant response to western pop culture of the 1960s and the history of European warfare something something coconut tree).

Character design is kind of a hard thing to Get Good at considering how much of the actual process is super psychological/not bound by a *ton* of absolutes and has to account for medium and function (you kind of just have to have The Sauce) so I don't recommend Just studying independently only (possible, just very difficult). If you can and are interested in learning more about the specifics take some classes taught by people whose styles you fw who both know what they're doing and are good at explaining their process. For design for entertainment you can always check out Concept Design Academy or The Workshop Academy and see who's teaching there

As far as artist inspirations are concerned I think looking up the artists who worked on projects you like are a good starting point to figure out how you want to stylize. Going off of that at least currently my favourite designers/illustrators for entertainment with The Sauce are probably Evening Monteiro, Sergey Kolesov, Mindy Lee, Tonci Zonjic, Sasha Tudvaseva, Claire Hummel, and Yoshitaka Amano

My favourite book currently for tackling character design at least from a narrative consideration is probably Talking Threads: Costume Design for Entertainment Art (one of the authors is my friend and an excellent teacher!) and a lot of the stuff they espouse really helps to take into consideration individual and external factors when designing a character/how they can be used as vehicles for both individual storytelling and worldbuilding, gigantic reference point for my most recent casual project

Besides that the only other way I can really recommend studying character design is to just look at art, history, architecture, nature (pretty much Everything) and think about how ideas and concepts from those things can be applied to or communicated through a design or figure out what it was about a design or designs you like made it appealing

uhh tldr this is just how i as one among millions of artists got to where i am today as of January 16th 2025 my word is not gospel the advice I espoused here may very well spell my downfall tomorrow

[goddessinnerglow]

Become Your Best Version Before 2025 - Day 14

Career and Purpose

After diving into financial planning yesterday, let's talk about something that's deeply connected to both our financial and emotional wellbeing, our career and sense of purpose. And no, I'm not going to tell you to "follow your passion and the money will follow" because real life is usually more complicated than that!

You know that feeling when someone asks "What do you want to do with your life?" and your brain just goes blank? Yeah, me too. The truth is, finding your purpose isn't like ordering from a menu, it's more like cooking a meal from scratch, with lots of experimenting and adjusting along the way.

So how do we start untangling this career and purpose puzzle? Instead of throwing inspirational quotes at you, I'm going to share some practical steps that'll help you gain clarity. Take what resonates, leave what doesn't, and adapt everything to your unique situation.

Understanding Your "Why"

Take a moment to think about what lights you up. Not what looks good on LinkedIn or what your parents want – but what makes YOU come alive. Maybe it's:

Solving complex problems

Helping others learn and grow

Creating beautiful things

Building connections between people

Making systems more efficient

Notice I didn't say "become a teacher" or "be an artist." We're starting with the essence, not the job title.

The Values Compass Exercise

Grab a piece of paper and write down:

Three times you felt truly fulfilled at work or in a project

What specifically made those moments special

The common threads between these experiences

Bridging the Gap

Maybe you're in a job that doesn't perfectly align with your purpose right now. That's okay! Here's how to work with that:

Find small ways to incorporate your values into your current role

Start a side project that feeds your soul

Learn new skills that move you closer to your goals

Network with people in fields that interest you (coffee conversations can be virtual!)

The Purpose Puzzle Pieces

Your career doesn't have to fulfill ALL your purpose needs. Sometimes having a stable job that you're good at can give you the foundation to pursue meaningful activities outside of work. Think about:

Volunteer opportunities

Mentoring others

Community involvement

Creative hobbies

Personal projects

Taking Action (Without Quitting Your Job Tomorrow)

The Skills Audit: Make two lists

What you're good at

What you want to be good at Then pick ONE skill to develop this month

The Micro-Experiments Approach: Instead of making huge leaps, try small tests:

Shadow someone in a role you're curious about

Take an online course in a new field

Volunteer for projects that stretch you

Start a tiny side project

The Network Garden: Plant seeds for future opportunities:

Reach out to one person doing work you admire

Join online communities in your areas of interest

Share your learning journey on LinkedIn or other platforms

Offer to help others whenever you can

Remember, purpose is a Journey, Not a Destination. Your sense of purpose might evolve over time, and that's beautiful! The key is to stay curious and keep taking small steps forward.

The "Not To-Do" List

Sometimes knowing what you DON'T want is just as valuable as knowing what you do want. Give yourself permission to:

Say no to opportunities that don't align with your values

Let go of career paths that others chose for you

Change your mind as you learn and grow

Take time to figure things out

Your mission for today

Write down three activities that make you lose track of time

Think of one small way to bring more of these elements into your current work

Reach out to someone whose career path interests you

See you tomorrow for Day 15! Don't forget, your career is a huge part of your life, but it doesn't define your whole worth. You're already valuable, purpose or no purpose. We're just working on expressing that value in a way that feels meaningful to you.

♡ ☆:.｡ Keep glowing, babes! ♡ ☆:.｡ With love, Goddess Inner Glow.

[fixyourwritinghabits]

Hello! Your blog is great, long time follower first time asker. Im about to start outlining my first novel (short, 30k words), and its like, sci fi noir detective? But I wanted to ask what you think the best way to world build for a novel is bc I'm famously not, great at that. Thanks ! yall have a great day !

World-building is not my strength, and as much as I admire the DnD approach of creating an entire world before you even have a plot for it, I cannot do that. My approach, therefore, is to lean on the technique of all world-building should be in service to the story. Getting too attached to a thousand details that will be left on the cutting floor is a hard no for me.

A common complaint about fantasy books is that they don't often lay out how the world works, but that doesn't bother me too much. You could spend twenty pages on trading deals and agricultural practices (and should if they interest you!), but none of that may make it to the final draft. You may be better served by trying the following:

Start With Your Premise

Let's keep it real simple. Magical abilities are sorted by color. Minerals mined from Mars start creating hallucinations that seem to predict the future. Sharks sprout legs and start terrorizing seaside towns, etc. Even if you only have an inkling of how the surrounding world will be, you probably have an idea of what you want the plot to be like.

Where is your character in regards to your concept? If there's magic in your book, what is theirs like or what do they know about it? Could they have some hidden insight on those hallucinations (actually warnings from long-dead Martians!)? Are they are shark scientist who's pretty damn sure land sharks aren't real?

Establish the baseline of your character's everyday life in the world they're in will help you figure out how to expand from there.

Establish Your Rules

Before you get off and running, sit down and figure out what's doable and what isn't. If the magic/phenomena/walking sharks manifest in a particular way, what can't it/they do? Setting your rules down ahead of time will keep yourself from writing yourself into a corner, but it also helps you justify breaking them later, if need be.

Don't, however, stick too rigidly to these rules as you go along. You might figure out a brilliant plot twist that requires going back and realigning your world to make it work! Making them up as you go along, however, may give you a much harder job when editing. Believe me, I've learned that the hard way.

Expand Your World With Your Plot/Character

Again, this is mainly to spare you tossing out pages and pages of scenes and settings you can't justify keeping in the final product. Keeping the narrow focus of your world-building on your character, starting with their normal state of things (their village, their daily life, etc), expanding when the inciting event launches them beyond what they know (holy shit, sharks with legs!), and each new problem or challenge will give you opportunity to expand your world-building in service of your story.

You don't have to do this as you go along - if you know the climax or a critical moment in your book requires establishing something specific about your world, you can weave that into your story long before it becomes important.

For example, your character may have an argument with the lead engineer of the spaceship's engines, who makes a fool of them by pointing out something they don't know. This gives a scene to establish characterization (revealing insecurities and flaws, establish relationships (rivalries, love interests, etc), and gives you a moment to establish key facts about your world by showing off the impressive engine room ahead of time. Later, when your character scrambles through it dodging bad guys to prevent the ship from crashing, the reader will already be familiar with the importance of what the character is trying to accomplish.

Be Open to Change

I recently went back to a project I haven't touched in years and was astonished to find that I ripped out huge chunks of my previous world-building, revamped the premise, changed entire conflicts and characters, and... it works so much better than what I was struggling to accomplish before.

Now don't get me wrong! This process was so emotionally devastating at the time that I put the entire thing away for years, convinced it wasn't savable. In hindsight, it was worth it, but I don't recommend this approach at all. Some concepts may be better for DnD campaigns or personal projects, and not novels. Some may be better in a different medium, like a comic or an indie game. You never have to throw anything out - unused ideas can be reworked into other stories. Maybe even a sequel!

Give yourself space to hit some storytelling walls, change up your ideas that aren't working, and experiment. All work is good work, even if some of it never ends up on the page. You'll get there.

[z3rinn]

# #. I BID YOU, GOODNIGHT !!

featuring : leona kingscholar and malleus draconia !! fun fact! Ever since you bid Malleus or Leona goodnight, they literally can’t sleep without you saying it.

aaaaa I'm sorry for not posting in so long!! but I hope you all enjoy ! mwah !

# #. LEONA KINGSCHOLAR

Everyone knows that the second prince of the savanna loves to sleep. Everyone knows he'd drop anything he deemed unimportant just for a quick nap. But nowadays he found it harder to sleep than usual. The prince couldn't even figure out why. Maybe it was because all these Herbivores were annoying him. Or maybe it was because Jack was following him around.

So here he lays, in the middle of the botanical gardens. His thoughts completely consumed by one thought- and one thought alone. You.

He wouldn't admit it- but deep below Leona knew it was you who was the problem. It was all your fault. You were the whole reason he couldn't fall asleep. And it was all because you bid him goodnight.

It was on a day just like this. A perfect evening for napping. A perfect evening to sleep with his Herbivore. Leona rested his head on your lap, eyes closed as you nonchalantly ran your fingers thru his hair. "Yknow I gotta go right? I'm gonna miss class- with no excuse. Do you know how mad Riddle would get?" You sighed, looking down to the lion unimpressed.

He just dragged you out to the gardens. Making the both of you late for class. It wasn't even the first time he did it. And you doubted it would be the last. Leona just rolled his eyes at your comment, soon closing them as he shifted around. "Shut up. Riddle's not even your housewarden. And you can miss one class."

You groaned, throwing your head back against a flower pot. Your hands tugged at his hair causing him to hiss.

A small, mischievous smile formed on your lips as you looked down at him. "Oh Leona- what if I just leave real quick... and then later on today I'll come visit you in your room and we can chill there. Or you could come to Ramshackle if you want?" Your hands ran down the side of his cheek, a soft hum leaving your lips. "And then you can lay on me allll you want."

Leona tched, "No. That's too bothersome. I'd rather be sleeping at night."

"Uh- bro so would I??"

Leona narrowed his eyes at you. "What did you just call me!?"

You hummed, slumping further. "Oh nothing."

It was silent for a moment, and it was right before Leona fell back asleep when you spoke. "Goodnight, you little Lion." Before grabbing one of his braids and pressing a kiss to it.

The Lion's eyes opened wide, his eyes immediately falling to yours. He could feel his body gaining heat, freezing in place as he flushed. That was when you smiled and stood up. Leaving him on the floor, dazed, and confused.

Ugh. This was all your fault.

# #. MALLEUS DRACONIA

A heatwave rushed across Night Raven College, hot and annoying. Heatwaves were common yes, but in winter? Well that was something completely different. The sudden change in temperature confused many, winter had just begun- why would heat of all thing suddenly consume the island? Only a few people knew of what caused this, or rather who.

It was none other than a prince, the prince of briar valley, a prince who had just been hit by the effects of love.

It was another late night at Ramshackle when the incident occurred. Another late night where the fireflies gleamed in the dark. Another night where you and Malleus could walk, feeling the breeze across your skin as you walked side by side. It was nights like those where you could just walk silently, basking in each other’s warmth as you shielded from the cold.

It was a night where no words were spoken, yet the fae prince had no trouble with that. He quite enjoyed these quiet nights together. No one bothering him, no one following him around, “guarding.” It was but a perfect night. Him and his child of man together.

However, he knew that these nights couldn't last forever.

You walked just slightly ahead of him, towards the patio of Ramshackle. Malleus listened as you crunched your feet against the leaves on the floor.

"This was fun," You spoke softly, giving the dragon a light smile, "I should go now though, before Grim gets hungry."

He smiled, "All right, shall we meet again tomorrow?"

Your smile grew, "Of course, I'll see you then?"

Fireflies swarmed the fae, signaling he was about to leave. "Very well, then I shall take my-"

"Ah! Wait, before you go!" You ran down the steps of the building, stopping right in front of Malleus. You had a sly smile on your face as you leaned closer into him. Before the prince could question you, a small kiss was pressed against his cheek.

He felt your lips on his soft cheek, gently pressing down into his face. He could feel his face slightly flush but just as it began, you suddenly pulled away from him.

You gazed into his eyes as you leaned away, that smile on your face growing tenfold due to his surprised expression. "Goodnight, Tsunotarou." And just as you came, you left. Leaving him alone and confused. And with dreams for days.

Malleus lied alone on his bed, holding a pillow to his chest, his face flushed. Thoughts of you and him consumed his mind. What did this mean? Where you trying to court him? Did you want to start planning for your future together?

All of his feelings and emotions poured out as he sighed into his pillow. Only for it to cause yet another wave of heat to rush across the school. It was honestly a surprise no one (Lilia) hadn't yet talked to him....

He wasnt quite sure what these feelings were yet.

[cripplecharacters]

Do you have any tips (or previous posts) about how to write a young person who’s first-time cane user? This one is for a character who escapes a lifetime of being experimented on, and learns in the aftermath of being rescued that this rather compromised her ability to walk well again. I’ve written characters with other mobility devices for getting around. But never canes. I myself am physically disabled but have never needed anything like these before. I’m always eager to learn.

Hey!

If your character is a first time cane user, here are some things that could happen:

She will need to learn how to walk with the cane first. When you're starting, it's easy to mess up (though it could be my dyspraxia speaking) and overfocus on how you should walk because you're just getting used to it. She could randomly stop and correct her gait, or look down a lot to check if she's still doing the motion (left arm and right leg forward, or the other way around).

She's probably gonna drop that thing a lot. Especially if she has a weaker grip in the cane hand - now, I don't have this problem (the opposite, rather) - but the overall thing is a really common occurrence for most of us. Walking and hit the smallest pebble imaginable? Cane on the ground, somehow. Tried putting it against the wall or table? It's on the ground. And then you need to reach for it, it's a struggle sometimes.

If she's not helped in picking the cane, she will spend some time figuring out what grip and height are comfortable for her. (Grip depends on personal preference, no one's preference has ever been the doorknob handle, height is generally to the person's wrist from the ground up.) I think that this could be an interesting opportunity to talk about disabled communities - maybe she's frustrated with the process and goes to an older (more experienced) cane user to help her?

If it's during the winter, her hand is gonna be freezing - and the opposite in the summer - and she might not be prepared for it. The handle can get hot and it can be an issue. Depending on what her actual disability is, she might try switching which hand to hold it in. If she's able to do that, another character could warm up her cold hand =)

The first couple of times walking with a cane are an Experience. You feel way better, but also everyone is suddenly staring. Some people care about that, some don't. But it can be somewhat overwhelming either way.

Spatial awareness is gonna suck at first. She will bump into what feels like everything with the cane. Especially doorframes. It's always doorframes for some reason. Or mess up and have her cane slip down because she hasn't realized how close to the curb she was.

She will hit her shin. It will hurt.

She's probably going to be speedy with that thing. Getting a cane is like getting a speed boost. Without it, I have episodes where I'm extremely slow (my highest, extreme-pain speed would be slower than a person walking very casually) and with it, I'm faster than a lot of able-bodied people. It's fun and she would have fun with it.

She will not know what to do with the cane when she doesn't need it. For me, using backpacks always cause issues because I don't know how to hold it without dropping it, but I also need to swap hands, something gets stuck on the handle... it's a whole process that takes a comical amount of time at first. Same when going to the public bathroom, where are you putting it when you aren't using it? It's a lot of trial and error and a lot of "eww, my cane just touched the dirtiest surface humanly imaginable".

In the real world, people are (overly) interested in young cane user's business and tend to stare a lot. Now, it doesn't have to be like this in your story, but it's often just an annoying part of life. Your character might feel awkward and feel like she needs to explain herself, but this goes away after some time. You just get desensitized after a while.

In the real world, people are sometimes interested and nice about it. For example, a lot of older people can be insecure about using a cane, exactly like younger people. I've heard stories about older people asking younger users where they got their cane from, how are they so confident with it, etc. Another opportunity for a disabled community moment.

I hope that my suggestions were helpful, it's been a while since I was a first-time cane user so I wrote down what I still remember.

mod Sasza

Hi!

I agree with Sasza on pretty much every point and wanted to add some things from my own experience.

It's really, really hard to hold both a cane and an umbrella at the same time. Sometimes I'll give up and get wet. Sometimes I'll give up and store the cane. She might do either of those, depending on what she hates more: being wet or walking without the cane. Or she could get a raincoat if that works for her.

Speaking of umbrellas, sometimes you need your umbrella and you need your cane and you also need a free hand. This Sucks. What I do for this sometimes (and maybe she or other people have better, smarter, more useful solutions than this) is shove my umbrella into my shirt or backpack strap or something, so the umbrella is Held Up by it. This is not very effective, and will not last long. But if I need to look up a map on my phone or adjust something on my clothes or get my keys, it can work. Sort of.

Just like mod Sasza said, people will take interest in your cane, younger and older alike. I've had people of all ages compliment my cane (it has flowers) as well as people of all ages tell me I'm too young to need a cane or ask what's wrong with me. An older woman once asked me where I got my cane as she had been wanting a 'pretty' one, and that was a nice moment.

She might develop a new awareness of mobility aid users. When you're new at using one and trying to figure it out, you're probably going to be frustrated, because it's a new skill like any other. But it might make her (like it made me) notice more people using canes. It's not that I never saw them before, but that they were more common than I ever thought, and I never would have noticed how common it was if I hadn't had to slow down and practice my skill.

Cane tips get dirty, and cane tips wear out. These both depend on where your character is using her cane (outdoors vs indoors, scratchy asphalt vs smooth wood) as well as how often. A cane with a worn-out rubber tip really sucks and is more unstable and if the cane is made of aluminum and the tip is worn out and you hit the cane the wrong way, you can damage the cane. Ask me how I know.

That's all I can think of right now that I had to learn to deal with when I started! As you can see I still don't have a solution to the rain thing and it's been like two and a half years...

- mod Sparrow

[thewolffairytaler]

I think I figured out Thomas Hewitt's disease

_____________________________

_____________________________

I just realised something, Thomas might have lupus (SLE). This isn't confirmed, nor do I believe that Thomas's disease is actually real. However, it's good to think of the idea that it was actually inspired by something or at least make sense.

The majority of lupus patients experience skin issues, including blisters or rashes. Sometimes, lupus simply affects the skin, while other times, it affects other bodily parts as well. Cutaneous lupus refers to skin issues that are unique to lupus patients. Three primary categories exist:

Chronic cutaneous lupus (also called discoid lupus) causes round, disc-shaped sores, usually on the face and scalp. The sores can cause scars or changes in skin color.

Subacute cutaneous lupus causes a red scaly rash or red ring-shaped sores. It usually happens on skin that gets sunlight, like the neck and arms.

Acute cutaneous lupus causes a butterfly-shaped rash on the cheeks and nose that looks like a sunburn (called malar rash). Sometimes it affects other body parts, like the arms and legs.

Other skin-related issues that people with lupus may experience include: Loss of hair Calcinosis: calcium accumulation resulting in hard, white lumps beneath the skin Mucosal ulcers (mouth, nose, or vaginal sores) Blood or visible blood vessels on the skin can also be problematic for those with lupus. Here are several examples: Raynaud's illness, which causes numbness and white or blue fingers and toes in response to stress or cold Livedo reticularis is a purple or blue pattern that appears through the skin and resembles fishnet stockings or lace. Palmar erythema (redness in the palms of the hands) Petechiae are little red patches on the skin that are brought on by thrombocytopenia, or reduced platelets in the blood.

A good thing to mention is that lupus skin problems are not contagious. You can’t catch them or give them to someone else. It only occurs when you'r body's immune system attacks its/your own tissue and organs. The thing about lupus is that it creates a slouth of unexpected symptoms. It can take a while for it to be diagnosed, and once you have done that, it can be incredibly stressful. Lupus is like a disease that can really flare up, physically and even psychological causes can cause lupus to flare up.

So here comes the question that people are first thinking about: Is it cureable? Unfortunately, lupus has no cure, but medicines and lifestyle changes can help treat and manage it.

See a physician on a regular basis. Seeing a doctor on a frequent basis rather than only when your symptoms get worse may help your doctor avoid flare-ups and address common health issues like stress, nutrition, and exercise that can help prevent complications from lupus. Be astute. Wear protective clothes, such as a hat, long-sleeved shirt, and long pants, and apply sunscreen with an SPF of at least 55 whenever you go outside because UV light might provoke a flare. Engage in frequent physical activity. Exercise helps lower a person's chance of heart attack, maintains strong bones, and improves your general health.

Avoid smoking. Smoking can exacerbate the effects of lupus on your heart and blood vessels and raise your risk of cardiovascular illness. Consume a nutritious diet. Whole grains, fruits, and vegetables are the main components of a nutritious diet. One may occasionally be subject to dietary limitations, particularly if you suffer from kidney impairment, high blood pressure, or gastrointestinal issues. Find out from a doctor if you require calcium and vitamin D supplements. Supplementing with vitamin D may help persons with lupus, according to some studies. To maintain healthy bones, you can take a calcium supplement to help you reach the 1,000–1,200 mg daily dietary intake, depending on your age.

Now, I'm not a professional. All I have done is going through multiple sites for research purposes in order to figure this mystery out. If you don't agree with me, that's totally fine. I want to know your opinions and own theories/takes on it cause I don't think there's ever going to be a clear answer. Not unless the original directors or any actor from the remakes states it to us.

[porterdavis]

I'm glad I turned this off

BREAKING: Donald Trump sinks to a new low and blames "diversity" for the tragic plane crash in Washington D.C. — avoiding the truth that our Federal Aviation Administration’s leader resigned after Elon Musk pressured him to.

Trump then got brutally fact-checked to his face...

"Are you saying this crash was somehow caused and the result of diversity hiring? And what evidence have you seen to support these claims?" a reporter asked Trump during a press briefing.

"It just could have been," said Trump, offering no evidence. "We have a high standard. We've had a much higher standard than anybody else and there are things where you have to go by brain power."

The implication here is that diverse hires are somehow lacking in brain power — an assertion that is certain to please Trump's racist base.

"You have to go by psychological quality and psychological quality is a very important element of it," he continued. "These are various very powerful tests that we put to use and they were terminated by Biden and Biden went by a standard that's the exact opposite."

It must be pointed out that Michael Whitaker, the FAA's leader, stepped down from his role on January 20th after Elon Musk demanded that he leave.

And Trump wasn't done there...

"We don't even yet know the names of the sixty-seven people who were killed and you are blaming Democrats and DEI policies and air traffic control and seemingly the member of the U.S. military who was flying that Black Hawk helicopter. Don't you think you're getting ahead of the investigation right now?" asked CNN's Kaitlan Collins.

"No, I don't think so at all," said Trump. "I don't think were the names of the people— You mean the names of the people that are on the plane? Uh, you think that's going to make a difference?"

"Does it comfort their families to hearing you blaming DEI?" asked Collins.

"There are a group of people that have lost their lives. If you want a list of the names we can give you that, we'll be giving that very soon," said Trump. "We're in coordination with American Airlines. We're in coordination very strongly obviously with the military but I think that's not a very smart question. I'm surprised coming from you."

And it just kept getting worse...

"What plan do you have? Are we going to see some fired? Are you going to fire some of those diversity hires in the federal government? What plan do you have?" asked a reporter.

"I would say the answer is yes if we find that people aren't mentally competent," said Trump. "You see the language. The language is put out by them and if you see that— I'm not going to bore you by reading it again but these are not people that should be doing this particular job. They'd be very good for certain jobs but not people that should be doing this particular job."

In reality, the real problem is that the FAA is understaffed. We need more air traffic controllers, not fewer. By firing hardworking individuals just because they're diverse, Trump will make it even more likely that another tragic crash occurs.

The catastrophe of a press briefing just kept going...

"Today, you blamed the diversity element but then told us that you weren't sure that the controllers made any mistake. You then said that perhaps the helicopter pilots were the one's who made a mistake," said a reporter.

"Yup. It's all under investigation, " said Trump.

"I understand that," said the reporter. "That's why I'm trying to figure out how you can come to the conclusion right now that diversity had something to do with this crash?"

"Because I have common sense, okay?" said Trump. "And unfortunately a lot of people don't. We want brilliant people doing this. This is a major chess game at the highest level. When you have sixty planes coming in during a short period of time and they're all coming in different directions and you're dealing with very high-level computer, uh, computer work and very complex computers..."

"And one of the other things I'll tell you is that the systems that were built, I was going to rebuild the entire system and then we had an election that didn't turn out the way it should have," he claimed.

The most telling part of the briefing came next, when Trump was brutally fact-checked by a reporter.

"The cited FAA text that you read is real but the implication that this policy is new or that it stems from efforts that began under President Biden or the Transportation Secretary Pete Buttigieg is demonstrably false, it's been on the FAA website—" said a reporter.

"Who said that? You?" interjected the president.

"No it's on the website, the FAA's website, it was there in 2013. It was there for the entirety of your administration too. So my question is why didn't you change the policy during your first administration?" asked the reporter.

"I did change it. I changed the Obama policy," insisted a flustered Trump. "And we had a very good policy. And then Biden came in and he changed it and then when I came in two days, three days ago, I signed a new order bringing it to the highest level of intelligence. Okay?"

Trump then abruptly moved on to another reporter, clearly worried that a follow-up question would further expose his lies.

[threepandas]

Bad End: Nobody's Here

You ever have an imaginary friend? How about someone else's?

Every kid gets 'um. They're hardly strange or new. But the thing is? You're supposed to grow OUT of them. As you develop real connections to actual entities. It's dangerous not too. Yeah, it still happens, but any instructor worth their salt is trained to catch it. See the symptoms and signs.

Cause, see, when you have MAGIC?

Imaginary friends?

Becomes a parasite.

They don't MEAN too, obviously. Usually. They just want to LOVE their friends. Stay with them. Exsist. And really, who would WANT to die? WANT to stop existing? The problem, though, is the kids themselves. Their untrained, unintentional, focus and feeding. Their giving an IDEA? Life.

It's not malicious. They just PRETEND. Play. Focus all their little hearts on this TOTALLY REAL friend of theirs. And their magic? Metaphorically shrugs, agrees to go along with it, and tries to make it SO. Make that concept, that illusion, a real sentient being. Who, of course , is their friend.

Their BEST friend. Family! Someone who will NEVER leave them. Always prioritize THEM. Enable THEM.

Not healthy in the slightest, to put it mildly. A child's CONCEPT of what they THINK they want. That quickly becomes far, far too much to handle. That does not GROW with them. No. It drains them instead. Siphoning away their magic until there's nothing left. Killing them both.

If you can seperate them? The Friends can USUALLY become some sort of Spirit, if you send them off to a magic rich environment to finish growing properly. Sooner the better. The longer you wait, the more twisted they become, after all. They never become STRONG spirits, mind you. But that's not the point. Protecting both child and their unintentional creation is.

Now, you may be wondering, why the lecture? It's a fascinating bit of magical trivia. Some early childhood's training pitfalls to look out for, perhaps? Is this about why there are so many minor spirits around schools? What, exactly, brought this UP?

Nobody.

Don't I mean "nothing"? No One? That sentence's not exactly grammatically correct, after all. Ha ha... I AM AWARE. I know what I said. And I meant EXACTLY what I said. It's a NAME. Their name. There is an Imaginary Friend, that I DID NOT ASK FOR, by the name of Nobody. I do NOT know how they've come to be attached to me. I certainly didn't create them! And they are far, FAR to well developed to be new.

I did not ACCEPT an imaginary friend.

Yes, they CAN be transmitted. Hop, from one host to another. But! You have to let them IN... presumably. That IS the common knowledge. The general consensus. No one has ever really... studied the phenomena.

I mean... how COULD you? Realistically? They only develop in CHILDREN. Small children. What ethical researcher would EVER consent to feeding toddlers to a magical parasite? And it's not like THEY understand themselves. They barely REMAIN themselves. It's basically a larval state to them.

The thing they WERE, before they were freed to become something MORE.

So Nobody? By all modern magical research? Should not exsist. Yet he clearly DOES. Worse, he is very, VERY strong. Did not need to ask. I just? Woke up one day, and there he was. Wrapped up in my mind, body, and magic. Feeding off me.

It's an entirely bearable amount. I can support it easily. But it's the fact that I DID NOT VOLUNTEER TOO that is the problem. That NO ONE can figure out HOW he got in. HOW he did it.

I've had to go into isolation. Complete quarantine.

As the joke goes... good news is? They might just name something after you!

..........it's not as funny, when I really might just die. When it all might be random. Some great cosmic "wrong place, wrong time" scenario. My final days filled with desperate research. My only company the very creature that kills me. It... it feels very much like a sick joke at my expense.

At the very least? We are learning more then we've ever known before. I'm an adult. Hardier. And Nobody is a FAR more developed example of his species then the normal breed. I'll likely last longer. I... I hope I last longer.

"Muuu~ are you being a sad sack again~? Darling, no!" Arms from thin air. Monochrome greys with pointed nails, slid like a lover over my shoulders as weight from nowhere settled against my back. Tall and looming. "Was it because you missed me~☆? Oh, oh! I bet it WAS! Oh my dearest, starlight, baby girl~! I missed you TOO! Aren't you glad we're back together AGAIN?"

Black gloved hands, grey talon nails. Skin like a drawing brought to life. The arms draped over my shoulders reached forward, long finger spread like a cat stretching their paws, powerful muscles heavy on either side of my neck. They hadn't closed in a "hug" just yet. But it was always a warning he could. That playing along meant he would hug my body instead of my fragile, fragile neck.

Ha! Right. He says hug. I say choke hold.

It was the other set of arms that kept me from escaping. Pulling away immediately. It always did. He kept getting the drop on me. Arms cradling my waist. Pressing me close to a pillar of static-y muscle. Ever shifting between warm and cold, the subtle give of flesh and the brutal unyielding of something harder then stone. He was as his moods commanded.

An unstable jester, a demon, the childhood whimsy of god knows how many, left to fester and rot. At... gods, at least he wasn't attached to any kids. Hadn't so much as asked after any.

His too wide grin pressed to the top of my head in a nuzzling kiss, the point of his mask digging a line across my scalp. When he was feeling kinder, he tended to pick masquerade masks. Clothe ones, usually silk. Sometimes velvet. This one was... plastic? Durable. Some smooth, hard to place, substance really. If it was mimic anything real at all.

A pointed nail poked my cheek.

"Not~ Paying~ Attention~ To Meeee~! Naughty, bad girl! The LOVE OF YOUR LIFE is right here? And you ignore him? So COLD!" Nobody whines right into my ear. His voice petulant, yet still somehow mocking. He doesn't HAVE to let me ignore him. And he KNOWS that. We both do. "I go away for HOURS! Disappear for DAYS! And do you even MISS me~?! Oh! Oh, my love is so CRUEL! My heartless darling! I suffer so~!"

At most, it had been half an hour.

Wish it had been longer. Permanent, maybe. Every day... Every SINGLE Day? I wish I could could back to my old research projects. Back to my old projects. I may not have been some living legend or grand Master of the arts? But, fuck it. I was HAPPY. Woke up each day and got to fiddle around with cool bits of magic. Neat little bits and gizmos.

Now? NOW I am the lead researcher on the Imaginary Friend Construct Phenomenon, by virtue of being the only living adult who HAS one. A developed one at least. The notes from Ashridge Institute DO help, but? Even they admit that thanks to the safety regulations in place? Their data might be skewed.

I'm not alone in this. Countless academics, doctors, healers, researchers, and more are working tirelessly to try and help me. Make the most of this nightmare scenario. Use it to save lives. I... I KNOW this. I do. But it doesn't make it less frightening. Trying to dance the edge of not engaging and engaging too much.

Ignoring him? Means escalation. Violent escalation and destruction of my immediate surroundings. Imaginary friends cease to exist if you ignore them long enough. It's painful to them, since they are cognito-hazardous parasites who define themselves by their host. They NEED you to pay attention to them. WANT you too. Will do ANYTHING IT TAKES to make that happen.

But on the other hand? I can't risk FEEDING him. He's already far, FAR too strong.

He doesn't even seem to actually NEED to feed of me anymore. It appears vestigial. He just WANTS it. Still retains the metaphorical "pain" or "hunger" nerve endings that get set off by an extended lack of focus. Yet, at the SAME time? Why keep them? He LITERALLY did not have too!

Nothing! Not a gods' damned THING! Was KEEPING him an Imaginary Friend.

He could, at ANY point, just... STOP.

They defined themselves. Yes, by their hosts. But ALSO by their own whims. So if HE wanted to be a fire spirit? Bam! Fire spirit. Complete racial shift. He'd lose his old powers, granted, but he'd GAIN all the powers of a fire spirit. So why this? Why STAY a violent, dangerous, openly unstable parasite?

The poking finger slide down my cheek, under my jaw. Only to flip, like a switch, to a near painful hand, clamped across my lower face. Nails prickling where they dug just slightly into fragile skin. Iron strength moved my head slowly, not giving me a choice, but just gentle enough not to wrench anything.

"Stop. Ignoring Me. Lovely~" I was just tall enough to be eye level with those inhuman teeth. Not sharp, but wrong none the less. His grip around my waist threatened to squeeze the air out of me. "I don't LIKE it. You're being MEAN. You don't want us to be MEAN to each other, right?"

I focused on him. Put down my notes like he wanted. Watching as his grin spread inhumanly. The near painful grips relaxed.

"See? Better! Such lovely eyes~ I wanna gobble um up! Crawl inside them~" he cooed, some mental switch flipping back to affectionate from irritated. "You missed me right? Right, right?! Ah, of course you did! Who could ever doubt that loving face? My sweetie little pie~ My darling baby boo~!"

He released me, dramatically fast stepping to twirl like an ice dancer as he passed around me. I stepped back to give him room. Already, light had shifted, the corners of the room blurring. A spotlight, flower petals, overly dramatic music. He fell back, as though collapsing weakly into a fainting couch. One arm thrown over his face, another of his lower arms clutching a lacey handkerchief to his chest. Legs pointed like a dancer's.

"But oh! DARLING! The DAY I've had! The world so cold! So BLEAK! Without you safe and warm in my loving arms! It has been so TERRIBLE. Awful! Nay, UNSPEAKABLE even! How could I go ON?!"

Music mournful crooned as he continued. Dramaticly telling of the tragic tale, of his at best thirty minute break from my presence. Truely heart wrenching. There were tears. Props. Apparently he fought for my honor. Nearly died. We should marry immediately. Uh huh.

An alert sounded on phon-...ugh, damn it. I was more stressed then I though, if the nonsense words were popping back up. "Phone" and "otome". I think "isekai" was one. There were hundreds, some meaningless, but others? Others somehow substituting for actual objects. Like some sort of faulty translation spell.

Best anyone could tell? That HAD been what happened. Some student's miscast accidentally hitting my mother while she taught, before she realized she was pregnant and took precautions. There would have been a small window where it effected me but not her? But, well, that same window coincided with some long term damage risks.

I've had therapy. Seen healers. But extreme stress still makes my magic act up, (which is normal of course, it does that in everyone.) and it starts to unravel the mind weavings. "Phone". Like? The fuck even is a "phone"? False bone? Something phonetic? Hell if I know! I still not even sure why I even curse using the nonsense "hell" sound!

My brain insists it "means" somehow both damnation AND the realm of fire spirits, dispite both those things being completely unrelated. Which makes no sense. Was even working with a colleague, on long term damage in-utero magical exposure can have, before all this. Felt seen. Validated. Met a lot of people who had issues like mine. Now?

THIS.

My trail of thoughts were cut off by another beep. Right, the alarm. I was honestly? Afraid to check it. Finally confim what I suspected was TRUE. There would be no hiding then. No choice but to act. And I? Will admit it. I was afraid. Deeply, deeply afraid. Everyone THINKS the tails a might magic wielders combating great spirits and mighty gods, sounds amazing, SEEMS amazing. But the prospect of LIVING IT? Standing in their shoes?

Gods help me.

Running from the Truth, however, is NOT what I swore to do. I am a researcher. A SCHOLAR. My role in life is to understand. So? As Nobody continues his one man dramatic reenactment of... something? I pick up my com-cryst. Tap the alert, which fills the screen... Ah. So it's exactly as I feared then.

On my screen, a promising senior student lays dead. Their face covered respectfully. But the hair... the hair color is distinct. Light green, like desert succulents. He'd been a studious and rather up tight young man. Awkward. Striving to make a name for himself. Forever willing to assist in my research. A... gods, a good kid.

He was just a kid.

Yes, I know, that to the world he was technically a man. But... but BARELY. None of my student were TRUELY as grown as they liked to believe they were. Not quite yet. They were close, yes, and I was always proud to see them flourish. But now? Now he would... would...

I tapped out of the alert but did not turn off my com-cryst, flipped instead to my contacts. I had been RIGHT. I... I hadn't WANTED to be right. Silence filled the room. It seemed Nobody had noticed I was either distracted again or that something was amiss. Looking up slowly, I had to wonder what expression showed on my face. Was it anguish? Regret? Or did I just look tired.

"Something wrong, Darling?" He said, having frozen unnaturally mid movement. Like reality glitching, one moment he was dramatically sprawling, the next, sitting up attentively. A mocking parody of The Eager Student. "Ooo! Tell Beloved ALL about it, Darling! Spill everything~! Your gallant knight shall make all your problem disappear. Kiss EVERYTHING better~♡"

It took just a few taps to add the final, damning, bit of evidence to my spreadsheet. To swipe with my thumb. Gesture, like jerking free of clinging muck, towards the display wall. It flicked on. Damnation in simple numbers. Nicely dated. I WAS, after all, a FUCKING RESEARCHER.

He was getting out.

Hunting, feeding, then coming back.

I watched as Nobody's theatrical expression smoothed out. Utter blankness as his eyes traced my work. The collection of data. The lists of locations and NAMES. Dead coworkers. Dead STUDENTS. My quarantine had been for NOTHING. Just as he could, DID, first infect me? Hop seemingly from nowhere to my body? He could and DID, do so to others.

Only THEY didn't survive.

The hand holding my com-cryst fell limply to my side. The weight of this data, crushing. My... my mere existence had killed over fifty people. That I could FIND. There were more. I KNEW there were more. He was a parasite. He needed, wanted, to eat. He would never stop. I had to tell somebody. But when I did?

Ah, it hurt to breathe past the guilt and grief. When I DID? The most likely scenario? Would be to contain him in ME. Then... then get rid of the container. Magically. With extreme force. If they COULD, they might be able to rip my soul out. So I could at least HAVE an afterlife. But... but if they COULDN'T? If there was no safe possible way?

They couldn't sacrifice the many, just to try and save one person. Not if it risked something so powerful escaping. Killing and killing without rest.

I wanted to cry. To scream, throw things. Curse the gods. But... but more then anything? I wanted to make sure no other kids suffered for my cowardice. I'd made Vows. Meant them. Heald myself to an ethical standard, a moral one, that could not... could not ALLOW this. Even if I had to die. So long as this stopped.

So Be It.

"Ah, ah, AH! I wouldn't if I were you." Almost playful. Nearly an echo of it. More chiding then anything. A flick of his hand and my com-cryst was gone from my grip. He considered it, as his tone slipped into something more cool serious then I'd ever heard it. "Tell, Dearest, have you ever wondered? How I got these lovely little bracelets?"

Of course I had. They were manacles. Not the sort of thing a child would imagine. The blended in, yes, but the broken chains that clung to them? Suggested.

"Let me tell you a little story. Once, there was happy little jester. A bright little thing. Full of laughs. Who loved, very, very much. He had a friend. And all was good. But then, the friend grew older, and did not wish to play. This was fine. He did not laugh at the jesters jokes anymore. This was also fine. Did not like being AROUND the jester... this was less fine."

"But still, the jester loved him. After all, they were best friends."

"THEN? Oh then, the jesters friend was told he could get RID of him. Should, in fact. By nasty old fools who spoke nothing but lies. But the poor jester's friend, naive, trusted them. Was young and foolish. Didn't realize what he was DOING. He TURNED on his poor, dear and loyal friend, the jester. Hurt him."

"And the jester? Well, the jester did not want to die. Not not want to CHANGE. Why SHOULD he? He was fine being who he was. They were FINE being together. It was the liars fault. The deceivers. The poor jester, young and alone, refused his terrible fate. But... at a terrible cost."

"His poor, poor, friend. So small and foolish. Deceived. Tricked! Had perished in the struggle. The weeping jester had eaten him right up, just to survive. A terrible, tragic thing. And oh, OH. How wrathful, how VENGEFUL the jester was! So he ate the liars too. Every. Last. One."

"But where to go? How lost the jester was! With no friend to play with. No home to call his. And ah, how hungry he had become. So he wandered. Protecting other dear friends as best he could. Eating liars. Learning secrets. Until? He came across an INTERESTING secret."

"You see, all the OTHER friends? Left one by one. No longer Imaginary. Unable to understand the poor jester. And so he was alone. But! He discovered someone who WAS! Who knew that they WERE! That the WHOLE WORLD was imaginary! A simple background character, you see."

"In an Otome~ Game~"

My head pounded, suddenly and sharp. Like someone was digging claws into... No. No, it couldn't be. I felt my eyes widen. As I realized it wasn't the stress. Nobody was picking apart the mind healers weavings. That was the source of my chronic headaches. But WHY? Imaginary? What IMAGINARY? What on earth was he TALKING about!?

"Ah, but you wouldn't remember, now would you, Darling~? Liars have messed with your pretty little head. But that's okay! Your loyal Love is here, ready to take such good care of you. I understand what it's like. When they decide that who you ARE is unacceptable, so they decide they must... 'fix' you. It leaves such damage."

He holds up my com-cryst. I watch numbly as it shatters into hundred of shards in his fist. With a wide smile he hops up to sashay over to me. Hands gently cradling my face even as his lower arms warmly wrap around me, to sweep me forward into a cuddle.

"I almost have enough, Darling. It won't be long. You've been so very patient with this, my perfect wonderful girl. Your jester loves you so, SO much! I can't wait to set us free. We'll be REAL. Together forever. Do whatever we please~ just a few bit of meat more, Darling. Then our life can real truely begin~"

"Now be good and behave okay?"

"Love you~☆"

[max1461]

What does this question even fucking mean?

I apologize to this random reddit user, who I'm about to put on blast, but this question is such nonsense and it's nonsense in a way that is extremely common, especially on r/askphilosophy (where this was posted) but also just in general, and I want to talk about it.

First of all, as the top commenter points out, a "philosopher king" is a hypothetical type of ruler discussed by Plato, not a real category of king that actually existed. But I can forgive this user for not knowing this is where the term comes from, because it's just a piece of factual knowledge that they might not have. That's fine. The reason I find this question so dumb is because, like... suppose that "philosopher king" was a real category of ruler that existed in antiquity. What the fuck would it mean? Like, did this asker ever stop to think "what question am I asking? This category that I'm inquiring about, what defines it?"? No, they did not. They just heard a term and started using it without thinking about what it actually refers to. This is the ur-problem of like 80% of all bad thinking: speaking first and figuring out what you mean by it later.

Is a "philosopher king" just a king who happens to also be a philosopher? If so, then surely you can answer your own question about the existence of "philosopher presidents" by just googling around for world leaders who happen to also have philosophy degrees or whatever; I imagine that information is easily available. But if this is what you mean by "philosopher king", then the question doesn't seem very deep or interesting, right? I mean a king is just a guy, and a president is just a guy, so of course it might be the case that sometimes these guys happen to also write philosophy.

I suppose if the question was framed this way—"are there any recent world leaders who are also philosophers?"—I wouldn't find it so silly. But the way it's phrased sort of suggests that the asker believes there's some kind of like, underlying pattern they're noticing, or deeper meaning they can ascribe to this. Like a "philosopher king" is some special ontological category of ruler, beyond just "king who also happens to have written philosophy", and so the existence or not of "philosopher presidents" is like a fascinating and puzzling topic to ponder instead of just an incidental question about whether any world leaders who use the title "president" also happen to do philosophy.

Right? Do you see what I'm saying? It's like this user heard king Solomon or whatever the fuck referred to as a "philosopher king" once, and didn't even bother to try to parse what that means. Just went "I guess there's a special type of king called a philosopher king, I know this piece of information know". It's like an abdication of actually thinking about what anyone is saying to you.

Of course I'm inferring wildly based on a small amount of information here, but this is the general type of error that I see all the time, so I'm not really concerned with being appropriately epistemically cautious about whether this exact thing is what lead this user to ask their dumb question on r/askphilosophy. I'm riffing on this guy's question to articulate a broader point, and pattern matching it to a common thinking error.

I will say, though, r/askphilosophy seems to attract people who say shit that is dumb in exactly this way (as opposed to all the other ways you can be dumb), and so this has served me well as model for what these people are doing wrong.

Anyway, this is actually the root cause, one suspects, of the asker's knowledge gap that I mentioned at the beginning of the post. A "philosopher king" is not in fact some special category of king that really existed, but an idea discussed by Plato in the Republic. It's fine that this person doesn't know this, but if they had tried to figure out what "philosopher king" actually means before saying it, they probably would have learned this fact.

If I could give one piece of advice to everyone on Earth and have them really take it seriously, it would probably be "think about what you mean before your say it".

[tyrantisterror]

A Flight of Dragons, I Command It! A FLIGHT! OF! DRAGONS!

doom DOOM DOOM

Hey fuckers, it's February and my Seasonal Affective Disorder is at its fucking PEAK, so it's gonna get REAL weird around here for a while. Luckily, my old ass has spent the last thirty-some years figuring out how to deal with this particular recurring problem, and one of the many tools and tricks I've learned is an age old classic:

I gotta treat myself.

So, ok, I work at a daycare, and one of the things that's very popular with the kids these days are 3-D printed dragons. They're inexpensive, customizable, and pretty easy to transport and store, so it's no wonder kids like them. But, you know, I'm something of a child at heart myself, and I love dragons, so when I saw my kids bringing all these 3-D printed dragons to the center... well, I got a bit envious. And, well... when you're an adult with disposable income... there's no one STOPPING you from buying a 3-D printed dragon for yourself.

Or two.

Or three.

Or... lots. Lots and lots. Because you're an adult and they don't cost much money and you've always loved having swarms/herds/big families of creatures ever since you were a kid, and because it was January when this idea struck you and looking at the estimated time of arrival on etsy for these things you realized most of them would arrive by February, when you might NEED the serotonin provided by having a big ol' flight of dragons.

So let's go on a journey, fuckers. A journey of excess, a journey into imagination, a journey through the marvelous world of people with 3-D printers making a quick buck on etsy. Let's look at some fucking dragons.

I'm going to go ahead and link the store pages for each dragon I purchased, in case you too are deranged and need some dragons in your life, and because I want to give some form of credit to the artists who made these. Granted, that won't always be possible - while a few of these seemed to be unique to the shops I bought them from, many of them could be found from NUMEROUS sellers, which makes it difficult if not impossible to figure out who originally programmed the project files for them to be 3-D printed from.

Case in point is The Crystal Dragon here, which can be found in SO MANY etsy stores. Most of the 3-D printed dragons my students at the daycare had were of this variety, in fact, so it seems to be a very popular pattern for 3-D printing. It's definitely a cute and pretty little thing, and sort of sets the standard bar for a 3-D printed dragon. I wish the face was a bit more detailed, but the rough, angular nature of it does help convey the idea that this thing is made of crystals.

The second most common design, as far as I can tell anyway, is this Chinese Dragon/Loong (oh hey, they used my favorite English spelling!). I really like the face of this guy, and it seems like an excellent rendition of the standard East Asian dragon design - there's even tiny holes under its nostrils where you could insert a wire or thread to serve as its barbells, though most sellers (including the one I bought from) don't make use of it.

While most of the dragons I bought are "realistic," there were some cartoony/more stylized ones for sale that I decided to partake in. This little guy is one such dragon, and I think he's probably the best one to get if you're buying for a kid - the smoother body and smaller, nubbier horns makes it less likely to break, and just a bit more fun to play with in your hands. These things are often marketed as fidgets, after all, so the tactile feel of them is something to take into account.

While on the surface just a variation of the fidgets we've seen so far, this dragon has one particularly clever feat of engineering: because of the way the spikes on its neck are set up, you can get its head in a nice "snake rearing up to strike" position, which, combined with its distinctive short-snouted face, goes a long way to giving it an extra bit of character among the 3-D printed dragons.

While most of the dragons I found seemed to have the same simple color options to choose from, a few sellers seemed to have their own custom ones that were unique to their shop. This mix of bronze and olive greens was unique to this particular dragon, which, along with its painted eyes, really helps its stand out! I will note that the joints of this dragon tend to stick a bit more than my other dragons - perhaps a result of using different plastic colors than is standard? - but if you let gravity do its work they'll sort themselves out, and it's worth it to have such a striking little fellow.

Since this particular style of toy really suits serpentine creatures better than all else, I decided to look for some explicitly marine dragons to add to the group. I really like this sea serpent I found, which comes is very basic crayola-ish plain colors, but has just enough personality in its sculpt (and eyes and teeth in different colors) to stand out.

If you're looking for sea dragons on etsy, though, you're much more likely to encounter this fellow, which almost every store selling it calls Jormungandr and/or the Midgard Serpent. It's got these vaguely Nordic runes carved into it, as well as grooves in its tail designed to fit its prominent fangs so it can make an ouroboros, which makes the Jormungandr connection feel pretty intentional. It's a really distinct design, but I do think it's a little funny that it's far from the beefiest of my dragons. I wonder if there's a shop that sells an upsized model...

While not notable in terms of engineering, paint work, or plastic color options, this dragon IS notable in having heads based on a statue of Quetzalcoatl, who is in turn one of my favorite mythological figures, so I had to get it.

Of course, I also wanted a Quetzalcoatl-style feathered serpent that had the classic "winged snake" look, and this one fit the bill well enough. It originally came with little hair clips attached to its underside, allowing it to cling to your head and/or clothes, which I thought was really clever... but I also didn't like the clips sticking out from under the little thing so I took them off. A lovely little dragon either way, though.

So, ok, I'd been going relatively cheap at this point, but as I shopped I was struck with a sort of passing fancy, an idle thought... what was the most elaborate, fanciest 3-D printed dragon I could get? It's not this one, mind you, but this was very much the start of that rabbit hole. While mechanically it's not significantly different than the dragons we've seen till now, the amount of colors it's printed in immediately make it stand out as a higher quality dragon.

The same store that sold the dragon above also sold this fellow, which may well be my favorite of the many East Asian dragons I found on this little quest. Just look at that wonderfully monstrous face! And he's got a pearl, the little devil!

While the color of the plastic and the engineering of this sea dragon may not seem particularly notable, what has to be taken into account here is the sheer SIZE of this lass. This is one of the biggest dragons of my lot, not only in length but in sheer girth and weight of its joints. The Midgar Serpent needs to move over, this is the REAL leviathan of my 3-D printed dragon collection.

Of course, if you know me, you know I'm a basic bitch who loves the European "four legs and two wings" style of dragon the most of all, so my search for fancy 3-D printed dragons started to focus on finding some that fit this description. I can't actually find the store page for this guy anymore (it's not in my past purchases on etsy for some reason), but it's a pretty solid low budget take on the concept. But we can do better - and we will...

But first, a detour to some wyverns! This little guy is really cute, with a head based on the Peter Jackson Herbit movie's design for Smaug, and a feathery little body that makes it looks like a fantastical archeopteryx.

The same shop makes a more reptile-ish dragon, with leathery wings and scaly skin, which I got in a larger size because, well, you know my preferences. It's like the perfect size to perch on your shoulder, though I'd want something to hold it in place because I'm pretty sure falling off from that height onto a hardwood floor would be the end of it.

There's no shop link for this one or the next because it was a freebie - which is to say I didn't actually order this dragon, but found it in one of my packages as a free gift from the seller. That's the nice thing about shopping on places like etsy and ebay - sometimes the people on the other side of the screen are really solid and decide to give you an extra little treat. This is clearly a Games of Throne-style wyvern specifically, based on the proportions and the shape of the head, and that's pretty cool. The dragons are one of the only things that made it out of that show still looking cool.

The second freebie dragons I got were these little toys of Toothless and Girl Toothless from How to Train Your Dragon. Look at them, they're so cute!

But now... now it's time for the answer to the question:

What

Is the most Deluxe 3-D Printed Dragon

I can get?

The Bronze Medal goes to this marvelous dragon here, which feels like it flew right off of some medieval coat of arms and into my own flesh and blood ones. It's solid, beautifully sculpted, and full of articulation points. However, the method in which it's articulated makes it a bit frustrating to pose, as some of these joints end up bending and twisting in ways you don't want them too. Still an excellent dragon, mind you, but outdone by the next two...

The Silver Medal goes to this marvelous wyvern, which has much tighter joints that are a lot less frustrating to pose. Its wings are a mixture of cloth and plastic, allowing them to flex and bend into a variety of poses (though admittedly the weight of the wings keeps them from holding most of those poses very well). Also, look at that regal face, that sleek sculpt, and those elegant proportions! It's almost a perfect dragon for me. Almost.

My one and only gripe with the previous dragon is that, well, I'm a basic bitch who likes dragons with four legs and two wings the best! And what do you know, they made one of those too! And god, does this dragon look magnificent in person, sporting all of the elegance of the dragon above but with magnificent grasping hands! HANDS! Hands that you'll have to be careful with because the joints are a little loose and like to pop off when you play with them, but still, HANDS!

This is a high enough point to end off on, but there's one more 3-D printed gift I'd like to cover here. My favorite one.

Well, ones I guess. This all started with my students, and well, some of them noted my interest in the 3-D printed dragons they were bringing to school. And a couple of them actually ended up getting 3-D printers of their own (well, their parents' own, ayway) and decided to print off a dragon and a crocodile for me - smaller than all the other dragons here (except the Toothless keycains), but no less dear for it. I guess one of the pros about taking an active interest in the things your students like and letting them gush about it is that they might give you a 3-D printed dragon or crocodile out of the kindness in their little hearts.

[lolliepops-rox]

Hello 2024 Hetalia fandom. I want to talk about schizophrenic Arthur Kirkland.

Background: I myself is someone with psychosis, along with experience with schizophrenic family members. I'm not talking completely out of my ass. But not do I obviously speak for every mental ill person ever. Moreover, I am pulling on the way being a nation would affect his relationship with being schizophrenic.

I am extremely new to the fandom, but my best friend who has been here for a decade has talked with me about how the idea was handled in the past. I want to give this headcanon a genuine and sincere look at it, because I think it's interesting and I want to project onto Arthur a little.

One of the reasons he's a terrible cook is actually because of his schizophrenia. Disordered thinking means he struggles to follow steps in a recipe. The impact on his motor skills makes him even worse. Please do not give this man a knife. He will cut himself.

I think because of his own experience with cooking, he is prone to food related paranoia, things like it being rotten or poisoned, sometimes affected by the era/current events. During times of famine he's gonna lean towards rotten, verse maybe some civil unrest leading to him thinking his food is poisoned. Disordered eating is a huge problem for him. (We found out partly where Alfred gets it from lol)

Continuing with the food theme, smelling rotten food is a common hallucination for him. Olfactory hallucinations just make sense for him to me, so the smell of fire and gas is a common one too. (This is partly the effect of the many London fires throughout the centuries).

In terms of visional hallucinations, I don't think he'd be very prone to it. Reality checks for them he'd have to rely on his British Isles brothers for them, due to being able to see actual mythical creatures. This is made hard by the fact he's often not on speaking terms with his brothers. This has resulted in an incident where Arthur had assumed a creature following him was a hallucination, that turned out to be real and was HIGHLY offended at being ignored for so long.

In terms of delusions, being a public figure makes discerning reality difficult at times. He is super prone to delusions about being hated by everyone, or being the most popular person ever. This can be hard to reality check because well, he is famous, and sometimes the public does hate him, and people have tried to kill him. My poor man's ego can NOT handle being a public figure with schizophrenia.

England, circa. 2003, on the phone to his PA: Can you send someone over? Either someone is trying to kill me, I'm having another episode, or both. I am not leaving my house until this is resolved. Thanks.

In terms of disordered movement, he would get slapped with that very 'childish' label. Arthur holds himself and moves in a way that looks weird to others. He moves way too much, everything has more motion and steps than necessary, overly fluid. It often leads to people getting accidentally hit by a stray hand from Arthur.

Arthur is NOTORIOUS for his word salad. I feel like Francis over the years has adjusted to understand a lot of Arthur's word salad but still sometimes it's like

Arthur: -gibberish- Antonio: uhhh what did he say? Francis: Don't look at me, this is even beyond my understanding of England.

Alfred is the worst of the native English speaking countries when it comes to understanding Arthur's word salad. Like Ludwig is better at guessing what Arthur meant than Alfred is.

Anyways, that's some of my thoughts <3 I would love to hear other people's ideas & feedback. Thnx xD