#Quest For Mar's Descendant

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Sigal Samuel at Vox:

There’s a dominant narrative in the media about why tech billionaires are sucking up to Donald Trump: Elon Musk, Mark Zuckerberg, and Jeff Bezos, all of whom have descended on the nation’s capital for the presidential inauguration, either happily support or have largely acquiesced to Trump because they think he’ll offer lower taxes and friendlier regulations. In other words, it’s just about protecting their own selfish business interests. That narrative is not exactly wrong — Trump has in fact promised massive tax cuts for billionaires — but it leaves out the deeper, darker forces at work here. For the tech bros — or as some say, the broligarchs — this is about much more than just maintaining and growing their riches. It’s about ideology. An ideology inspired by science fiction and fantasy. An ideology that says they are supermen, and supermen should not be subject to rules, because they’re doing something incredibly important: remaking the world in their image. It’s this ideology that makes MAGA a godsend for the broligarchs, who include Musk, Zuck, and Bezos as well as the venture capitalists Peter Thiel and Marc Andreessen. That’s because MAGA is all about granting unchecked power to the powerful. “It’s a sense of complete impunity — including impunity to the laws of nature,” Brooke Harrington, a professor of economic sociology at Dartmouth College who studies the behavior of the ultra-rich, told me. “They reject constraint in all of its forms.” As Harrington has noted, Trump is the perfect avatar for that worldview. He’s a man who incited an attempted coup, who got convicted on 34 felony counts and still won reelection, who notoriously said in reference to sexual assault, “When you’re a star, they let you do it. You can do anything.” So, what is the “anything” that the broligarchs want to do? To understand their vision, we need to realize that their philosophy goes well beyond simple libertarianism. It’s not just that they want a government that won’t tread on them. They want absolutely zero limits on their power. Not those dictated by democratic governments, by financial systems, or by facts. Not even those dictated by death.

The broligarchs’ vision: Science fiction, transhumanism, and immortality

The broligarchs are not a monolith — their politics differ somewhat, and they’ve sometimes been at odds with each other. Remember when Zuck and Musk said they were going to fight each other in a cage match? But here’s something the broligarchs have in common: a passionate love for science fiction and fantasy that has shaped their vision for the future of humanity — and their own roles as its would-be saviors. Zuckerberg’s quest to build the Metaverse, a virtual reality so immersive and compelling that people would want to strap on bulky goggles to interact with each other, is seemingly inspired by the sci-fi author Neal Stephenson. It was actually Stephenson who coined the term “metaverse” in his novel Snow Crash, where characters spend a lot of time interacting in a virtual world of that name. Zuckerberg seems not to have noticed that the book is depicting a dystopia; instead of viewing it as a warning, he’s viewing it as an instruction manual.

Jeff Bezos is inspired by Star Trek, which led him to found a commercial spaceflight venture called Blue Origin, and The High Frontier by physics professor Gerard K. O’Neill, which informs his plan for space colonization (it involves millions of people living in cylindrical tubes). Bezos attended O’Neill’s seminars as an undergraduate at Princeton. Musk, who wants to colonize Mars to “save” humanity from a dying planet, is inspired by one of the masters of American sci-fi, Isaac Asimov. In his Foundation series, Asimov wrote about a hero who must prevent humanity from being thrown into a long dark age after a massive galactic empire collapses. “The lesson I drew from that is you should try to take the set of actions that are likely to prolong civilization, minimize the probability of a dark age and reduce the length of a dark age if there is one,” Musk said. And Andreessen, an early web browser developer who now pushes for aggressive progress in AI with very little regulation, is inspired by superhero stories, writing in his 2023 “Techno-Optimist Manifesto” that we should become “technological supermen” whose “Hero’s Journey” involves “conquering dragons, and bringing home the spoils for our community.” All of these men see themselves as the heroes or protagonists in their own sci-fi saga. And a key part of being a “technological superman” — or übermensch, as the German philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche would say — is that you’re above the law. Common-sense morality doesn’t apply to you because you’re a superior being on a superior mission. Thiel, it should be noted, is a big Nietzsche fan, though his is an extremely selective reading of the philosopher’s work.

[...]

The broligarchs — because they are in 21st-century Silicon Valley and not 19th-century Germany — have updated and melded this idea with transhumanism, the idea that we can and should use technology to alter human biology and proactively evolve our species.

Transhumanism spread in the mid-1900s thanks to its main popularizer, Julian Huxley, an evolutionary biologist and president of the British Eugenics Society. Huxley influenced the contemporary futurist Ray Kurzweil, who predicted that we’re approaching a time when human intelligence can merge with machine intelligence, becoming unbelievably powerful. “The human species, along with the computational technology it created, will be able to solve age-old problems … and will be in a position to change the nature of mortality in a postbiological future,” Kurzweil wrote in 1999. Kurzweil, in turn, has influenced Silicon Valley heavyweights like Musk, whose company Neuralink explicitly aims at merging human and machine intelligence. For many transhumanists, part of what it means to transcend our human condition is transcending death. And so you find that the broligarchs are very interested in longevity research. Zuckerberg, Bezos, and Thiel have all reportedly invested in startups that are trying to make it possible to live forever. That makes perfect sense when you consider that death currently imposes a limit on us all, and the goal of the broligarchs is to have zero limits.

Vox has an insightful article on the disastrous vision that broligarchs like Elon Musk, Marc Andreessen, Peter Thiel, and Mark Zuckerberg subscribe to.

[digiflora]

𝐅𝐀𝐃𝐄 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔!

ཐི♡ཋྀ featuring -> luocha, blade, dan heng, jing yuan, gepard landau, welt yang

ཐི♡ཋྀ contains -> soulmate!au, no warnings just fluff (?) and maybe a bit suggestive for welt. ALSO LUOCHA'S IS SO ANGSTY AND FOR WHAT IDK IM SORRY

ཐི♡ཋྀ gia's notes -> ok so you know that soulmate au thing where the moles on ur body are where ur lover in a past life kissed you the most? yeah. i opened star rail for the first time in like 2 weeks today cos i rage quit after getting silver wolf while trying to build pity for luocha and then i did the story quest thingy and brainrot happened. sorry for being gone for so long. have this <3 (ppl who requested stuff two months ago i see you i hear you i'm just a slow writer)

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★ LUOCHA has a particularly noticeable mole on the right side of his neck. with his high collar and serious expression, that remains another guarded secret of his that is privy to only his own searching eyes, a secret that raises colour in his cheeks at the insinuation of its placement.

having spent more time around the dead than the living these past few months, love and human connection is not exactly an occurence that can happen naturally within his profession.

and for the most part, that's alright.

yet there are some lonely nights where luocha finds his gloved fingertips grazing the dark spot on his neck, wishing that he could be graced with the same tenderness in this life that he had received in his previous one. if he closed his eyes and concentrated hard enough, he could almost feel the ghostly brush of a pair of lips against his cool skin, the feathery sensation sending a soft shiver down his spine, accompanied by the distant giggle of a past lover in his ear before it slips his grasp and he rolls onto his side in frustration.

that damned spot might as well be placed directly over his heart, considering the amount of influence it held over him.

he could only hope that his dreams tonight would reunite him with the figure that haunts his conscious mind too now, and continue his fruitless search to find them once again in his waking realm.

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★ BLADE has moles on his chest and back littered amidst the scars that mar his porcelain skin. always a skeptic, the man has never been one to believe in the fanciful stories of soulmates destined to be, sneering in the face of such notions as fate, preferring to keep his head resolutely on his shoulders and feet planted on the ground.

and in some sense, he's right.

because when he met you, in this current life, you joined him in his rejection of a perfect other half. and then, slowly but surely, you had wormed your way into his heart, and his insistence on not having any such thing as a soulmate seems like such a flimsy rebuttal to the way you gaze at him in adoration, fingers trailing in your lips' wake as they brush over each individual mark on his chest.

he tries not to shiver when he feels your warm lips descend upon the skin of his back, your fingers tracing the faded marks that depict his life story with a silent promise that you'll be there for him, and to count every mark on his skin with tender care.

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★ DAN HENG often finds himself staring in wonder at the moles which litter his arms. starting from his wrists, there is a dusting of them that creeps all the way up to his shoulders, placed upon his skin with such deliberate care that it's almost a foreign concept to him.

in the later hours of the night, he allows himself to muse over the possibility of a soulmate, a lover in a past life destined to find him again, trying to solve the mystery of their identity by peering at his arms as if their face is etched into them.

and when he meets you, he feels breathless all over again as your hands interlink with his own, clasping them so fervently that lightning practically runs up his spine as your lips reunite with his skin, once again staking their claim as you make your way from his wrists to the rest of his body.

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★ JING YUAN bears his mark with pride, the distinct spot residing comfortly underneath his eye, attracting his attention to it every time he paises to study his reflection.

he wouldn't call himself a vain man, so he appraises that one mole before continuing on with his day, but it's not until you have his face cupped in your palms, and your eyes study his features with an intensity he had not felt until now, that you mention that he has two other moles on his face, albeit fainter.

and you make a point of reaffirming their existence at every chance you get, with you and jing yuan's morning routine involving your lips brushing against the faint mole on the apple of his cheek and bridge of his nose before landing a last one underneath his eye.

those only serve as a mere guidline, though, as you do not hesitate to pepper the rest of his unblemished face with kisses as your symbol of affection.

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★ GEPARD does not know what to think of the moles that litter his collarbones. they're rather prominent, and if he lets himself think about them for too long, he'll start blushing.

even the thought of someone kissing him there makes his brain short circuit, so the sensation is definitely one that he will have to get used to with you.

the slightly sadistic part of you revels in the way his blushing face hides itself behind his hands when you kiss him on those marks, a muffled boyish giggle escaping his lips at the ticklish sensation of your lashes brushing against his skin when you lay your head against his chest.

you decide to place a few additional marks for his next life when you kiss the backs of his hands, until your lover relents and reveals his face to you once more, letting you place a final tender kiss to his lips.

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★ WELT finds the little triangle of moles on his hipbone more humorous than anything. there's a certain intimacy to their placement that surpasses the more innocent and easily visible marks a person may have been granted by their soulmate, and he fonds himself wondering what kind of person his soulmate is for there to be the most frequent place they kiss.

and it's a pleasant surprise, really, as to how right it feels when you see those marks yourself and giggle, continuing their tradition by dropping a kiss to each in quick succession before grinning up at him with a smile so endearing that welt finds himself desperately committing the scene to memory.

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 IF YOU LIKED THIS, TRY: bound 2 fall in love!

honkai star rail masterlist ♡⸜(˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝

[freemilkshakesposts]

Bathing In The Rain

⚠️Warning ⚠️: Sexual content (18+) MDNI

Levi x Reader (Smut)

Summary: A Marley soldier and the captain of the Survey Corps, a love deemed forbidden, a passion that you once believed to be genuine—a lie, a fabrication, an illusion. How could you not have seen it for what it was? Yet, perhaps, when you encounter Levi beneath the rain's relentless downpour, the true essence of your relationship will be unveiled. In other words...outdoor smut in the rain.

The night unfurled in a wild dance of grey and silver, the heavens erupting in a primal deluge to drench the world below. Rain descended in relentless sheets, soaking everything in its path, an unstoppable force of nature. Thunder roared in the distance, a feral, beastly echo shattering the fragile stillness. But in this world, peace is an illusion. There is no such thing. There must always be chaos to balance the order, a perpetual disruption to maintain the façade of equilibrium.

Levi stood outside bathed in the raw splendour of the nocturnal storm, surrendering himself entirely to it.

The rain was merciless, each drop a sharp lance of cold against his skin, like arrows piercing St. Sebastian. But while Sebastian’s torment was divine, Levi's was an earthly baptism by storm.

The stinging rain was his punishment, embedding into his flesh, each droplet tracing his face with a crystalline touch. It slipped down his form like ghostly caresses, drenching his uniform, transforming the fabric into a darker, richer shade, while his dark hair clung to his forehead.

Yet, amidst the sting and the chill, there was a purity to the moment—a delicate, immaculate tableau. He stood in solitary watch, consumed by the storm’s relentless embrace.

"Levi," a voice called out, shattering the serenity of the moment, its barely audible murmur struggling against the storm's fury. "We need to talk."

He pivoted towards the voice, the rain continuing its onslaught, each drop slicing into his skin with the precision of tiny, cold blades. His gaze shifted, a nearly imperceptible softening in his eyes as he took in your disheveled state.

Your hair, plastered against your face in limp, damp strands, resembled wet seaweed. The drenched fabric of your shirt adhered to your form like a second skin, highlighting the curves of your breasts. Harsh creases marred your long, black coat, revealing the frailty of your soaked clothing underneath. You were utterly drenched, the rain's relentless, unyielding assault rendering you a sodden, vulnerable figure in the storm.

As you approached him, heavy droplets cascaded down your cheeks, blending seamlessly with the tears you fought to mask.

"Why did you come out here? Shit, look at you, completely soaked." His voice was low, edged with a chilling steel. "You might as well come inside to dry off; can't have you catching a cold." His grip tightened on your wet, cold shoulder, steering you towards the entrance with an unsettling calm.

You shoved him back instantly, your hand pressing firmly against his chest, eliciting a shuddered gasp from his throat.

“N-no,” you stammer, the quiver in your voice betraying the fortress of your resolve. You gasped internally, catching a glimpse of his eyes—eyes ablaze with a malevolent inferno, scorching your skin with their crimson heat. The raw power of his gaze almost consumes you, drawing you into submission. But then the cold rain, relentless and unforgiving, lashes at your face, a brutal reminder of the grim necessity of this act. Fuck it. You've bled and suffered, lost everything on this deranged quest for him, for this twisted mirage.

Drawing a deep breath, you force the truth up from the depths of your being. "Our whole relationship was nothing but a lie."

Levi's eyes narrowed, the rain beating down on his furrowed brow. "What are you talking about?"

It all became clear. The pieces had fallen into place: his sudden interest, the probing questions—questions you’d never answer to anyone else—and the frequent absences. Your heart tightened with the realisation that the man you had come to love had seen you as nothing more than a tool.

"You know exactly what I mean," you hiss, taking a deliberate step closer. "All this time, you've been using me, haven't you? Gathering intel, manipulating events—whatever fits your agenda. I'm nothing but a pawn for the Corps, a worthless rag for you just to squeeze dry for information on Marley."

The rain fell harder, each droplet crashing against the ground with such force it felt as though the world itself was convulsing, on the verge of disintegration, crumbling into a void.

Levi's gaze wavered, a flicker of something-guilt, regret?-crossing his features.

"I did what I had to do," he replied, his voice betraying a slight tremor as he struggled to maintain a veneer of control. "For the sake of humanity. For the mission."

You shook your head, the rain blending with your tears, searing your eyes with an almost exquisite agony. "Was any of it real then?" You asked, your voice trembling. "The nights we spent talking, the moments we shared...did your ever care for me, or was it all just a part of your elaborate scheme?"

The silence that followed was a deafening void, punctuated only by the storm's unyielding wrath. Rain hit against the trees with relentless brutality, flooding their limbs in a cascade of ruin, submerging the leaves in an unforgiving torrent. The once-refined petals of fragile blooms wept in mournful surrender, their fragile beauty annihilated, petal by petal.

Levi stepped forward, his hand extending to brush against your faintly reddened cheek. The chill of the air clung to his touch, an icy whisper that sent a shudder rippling through you, urging you to instinctively draw back.

"I never meant to hurt you," he murmured, his voice barely audible above the storm, tenderly tracing the contours of your face. "But this world... it doesn't allow for love. Not for people like us."

His words sliced through your chest like a precision-honed blade, extracting the vibrant, pulsing crimson of your heart until only void remains.

He's correct.

In this world, all that is beautiful is inevitably marred, unable to endure the unforgiving verities of our existence. This brutal equilibrium.

But inside, a primal urge festers—to be selfish, one last time. Selfish enough to annihilate that equilibrium. That's what you crave, what you deem necessary: obliterate the balance, reclaim and preserve that elusive beauty once more.

Without hesitation, you surged forward, seizing his cold, wind-battered face, pressing your lips to his in a desperate, punishing kiss.

He matched your intensity, his arms ensnaring you, yanking you closer.

The rain, now a relentless deluge, crashed over you, submerging your entwined forms on the sodden earth, both of you consumed by the downpour.

Your lips clashed, battled, and devoured each other with a ferocity so violent it was as if you were each other's last meal, a sacrificial communion.

You broke the kiss, gasping for breath, your eyes searching his. "Tell me this is real," you pleaded. "Tell me it wasn't all a lie."

Levi’s eyes softened, and for the first time you saw the man behind the soldier, the vulnerable soul beneath the hardened exterior. "This," he said, his voice quivering ever so slightly as his icy hands gripped yours, "this is real."

From those words something fractured deep within you, the final vestige of restraint, utterly incinerated.

Your shaky fingers wrestled with the buttons of his shirt, the rain turning the simple act into a battle against the elements. Frustration built within you, but Levi was there, his hands guiding yours with unspoken urgency, and soon his shirt lay discarded on the slick ground. In a swift motion, Levi began to yank the long coat from your shoulders. His hands slid beneath your own shirt, tearing at the buttons and pushing the fabric away, leaving you exposed to the relentless storm. As the cold air hit your skin, he shoved you against the wall, the icy stone biting into your back—a brutal contrast to the searing heat of his form.

His fingers began to glide along the curve of your spine with a soft touch, each touch a stroke of reverent artistry, like a painter spellbound by the sublime beauty of their subject, consumed by an all-encompassing need to possess it. As your body arched into his touch, the warmth of his mouth followed, tracing a burning path down your neck towards your chest. His lips found your left nipple, sucking gently, drawing soft gasps from you as his hand moved to massage your other breast, kneading it tenderly with each rhythmic pulse of his thumb.

It was clear that all semblance of propriety was swept away in the torrent.

He tore his mouth from your left nipple, lips now seeking yours again with an almost predatory hunger. The kiss that followed was desperate, devouring-his lips demanding, yours eager. It was a collision of mouths, breath mingling in a frantic exchange.

Your hands wandered without grace, pulling him closer, as if to meld into one being. A low groan escaped you, lost in the wet heat of the kiss, as his tongue probed beneath your teeth, slipping past your lips with audacious confidence. Fingers gripped your hips, digging in with a fierce possessiveness, as if this moment were the last chance to claim you. But then, he withdrew from the kiss, leaving only a thin, glistening strand of saliva bridging the distance between you both.

“Tell me you want this. Tell me,” he implored, his voice now laden with a desperate yearning that mirrored his pleading gaze.

This time you reassured him: an immediate breathless "Yes" slipping from your lips.

Levi suddenly swept you off the wall, causing you to gasp as he effortlessly spun you around, laying you gently on the damp grass. The cold ground stole the searing heat from your body, turning it into mist as you gazed up at the dark sky, breathless and captivated.

He moved to hover above you, his presence a cocoon of warmth that drew you inescapably into his orbit. Levi's eyes were dark and enigmatic, locking onto yours with a fierce intensity, a hunger that shattered any illusion of restraint. It was almost frightening, yet you couldn't deny that he was the very essence of seduction incarnate.

Rain clung to his lashes, falling onto your face like tiny, cool kisses. You were utterly enveloped by him, the sensation of wet mud against your skin fading into insignificance. In that moment, nothing existed but Levi.

His lips resumed their journey across your skin, each kiss upon your collarbone a jolt that stirred a ravenous need within. The cool droplets of water clinging to your flesh starkly contrasted with the searing heat of Levi's kisses, eliciting a sharp gasp from you. As his mouth wandered downward across your chest, his hands gripped your hips, steadying you. He knelt before you, his lips charting a slow, torturous path to the edge of your abdomen, lingering tantalizingly close to that aching desire that you yearned for him to sate.

"You look beautiful like this," he murmured, his voice low and husky.

His hands found the waistband of your trousers, seizing them and stripping them away with deliberate slowness, savouring the anticipation in the air. With the same fervent urgency, he tore away your black knickers, now damp with a delicate sheen, casting them aside to join the scattered remnants of your clothing.

He seized your thighs with a firm grasp, prying them apart.

"Already so wet for me," he murmured, the words seeming to reverberate off the tender skin of your inner thighs, as his thumb traced a lazy circle around your clit, the wetness amplifying in your ears.

His lips trailed a path down to your exposed core, each touch worshipful.

As his mouth closed around your swollen clit, a delicate gasp escaped your lips, the sensation verging on the unbearable. His tongue teased and flicked, coaxing moans from deep within, as his hands pressed your thighs back, exposing you completely to him.

You didn't care if anyone caught you; the thought of exposure was as thrilling as it was irrelevant. Your own comrades witnessing you submit to Captain Levi? It didn’t matter. This felt right—inevitably, perfectly right.

Within mere seconds, another moan tore from your lips, your hips arching instinctively toward his face as he administered a pleasure so exquisite it bordered on torment. His touch was a maddening interplay of fierce and gentle, each caress sending electric jolts through your every nerve. Your hands, almost of their own volition, ensnared his dark hair, fingers tracing the starkness of his undercut.

The swiftness of your approaching climax was both disconcerting and shameful like a delicate thread stretched to its breaking point, teetering on the edge of an inevitable rupture.

Then, the sudden warmth of his mouth vanished entirely, leaving behind an emptiness, a fullness that dissolved into nothingness.

An immediate chill settled over you, the void left by his absence creating a gaping abyss. It seemed to siphon away the invisible warmth that had enveloped and protected you from the rain, intensifying the bite of the night air against your exposed skin. Cold raindrops began to pelt your body with an unforgiving rhythm.

"Levi..." you murmured, a plaintive note edging your voice.

He drew his face from your thighs, returning it to yours, and gently placed a single finger upon your lips. His expression had taken on a wholly illicit quality. His lips were smeared with the glistening evidence of your desire, the damp sheen of your arousal staining them.

"I don't want you to cum like this. I want us to be selfish together. One more time. Will you allow me that?"

To be selfish. One more time. The notion, steeped in cruelty, dances on the edge of immorality—a siren call to greed. To be so selfish as to betray Marley, to find pleasure even with the enemy. Yet, how could one deny him now? His eyes, frantic with desperation, and the rain draping his skin in a luminous veil. He appeared insatiable. And, of course, you craved your own release... that sharp, intoxicating crescendo of pleasure only he could provide, a singular, forbidden ecstasy no one else could replicate.

You quickly nodded, finding yourself unable to form words, as your body instinctively leaned towards him again. Your legs parted with a kind of silent urgency, beckoning him closer.

Levi's lips curled into a knowing smirk as he observed your needy demeanour. He began unzipping his trousers, revealing his ardent desire, pulsing with the anticipation of being freed from its confines by the allure of your blossoming beauty.

"So tight..." He grunted, his determination palpable as he fought to penetrate the walls of your defenses, striving to reach that sacred, long-abandoned sanctuary within you-a place where he once found peace but had neglected in the name of duty and humanity, as he had so conveniently excused himself.

How much he lamented his neglect; in this moment, all he wanted was to shower you with the love you deserved, a desperate attempt to redeem himself and reclaim what was lost.

When he finally entered you, it was not mere pleasure that consumed him; it was something far more profound. His eyes dilated, and the veins in his neck pulsed beneath the pale strech of skin. This act was not a simple indulgence in physical desire; it was a dark, sacramental rite, a pursuit of redemption. To the unknowing observer, it might have seemed a mere spectacle, a cunning performance crafted to ensnare your affection and pry information from your lips. But you knew Levi too well.

The pounding rain formed a cacophony in your ears, drowning out everything but the sensation of Levi-his touch, his breath, each gasp and moan. Every thrust was a fervent prayer, a plea for more,as he surged into you with an exquisite ferocity. His movements were deliberate, forceful, each one reaching deep, pressing against the tender boundary of your cervix. His hands traced a delicate path across your skin- stomach, chest, face-a whisper of tenderness against the merciless rhythm of his thrusts. It was an intoxicating equilibrium, and you relished every moment of it.

"I'm sorry..." Levi purred into your ear, a groan lacing with his words.

Those words pushed you over the edge, sending you to your peak. The rain seemed to intensify, as if it were a baptism, washing away every ounce of the past, pain and betrayal. Your cry pierced the air, your nails digging ruthlessly into the wet earth, your body responding, convulsing around him. Levi was right there with you, his grip on your hips tightening, his breath a scorching whisper against your ear. In that moment, all restraints disintegrated, and his seed flooded into you, filling your garden. The long-barren soil of your existence was finally rejuvenated, and the once-withered flowers of your soul exploded into vivid, riotous bloom.

You both collapsed onto the grass, utterly spent, each breath ragged. Levi's head rested against your chest, his breaths shallow and feverish, their warmth searing your skin.

Glancing up at the dark sky, where menacing clouds hang like an impending judgment, fear is absent. Instead, a surge of life more vibrant than ever before courses through your veins.

Levi's restless shift upon your chest caught your attention, his head lifting languidly from its repose. Then, as if the storm itself were holding its breath, the silence was ruptured by his murmur: "I'm sorry," he whispered again, his voice scarcely rising above the tempest's roar. "For everything." In response, you extended your index finger tracing the contours of his face with deliberate tenderness, guiding from the curve of his cheek to the rigid edge of his sharp jawline. You lingered there, gently massaging the tip of his chin with your thumb.

"I don't know if I can forgive you," you whispered, your gaze heavy with somber intensity. "In this world, beauty and duty must always be in balance. What we share is beauty—rare and fragile. But duty remains, unyielding. I am a Marleyan soldier, and you are the captain of the Survey Corps. To disrupt this equilibrium continually carries profound consequences."

You sighed deeply, the weight of your decision pressing heavily on the air. "Yet we are all permitted one indulgence to disrupt this fragile equilibrium, one fleeting moment of self-gratification. I have elected to be selfish with you now, to forsake duty for this transient beauty. I chose you. But forgiveness, that would mean succumbing to the chaos that inevitably follows. I want you safe... for if we transgress, we unravel the equilibrium."

Levi remained silent, his eyes steadfastly locked onto yours, yet you could discern the unspoken acceptance of these truths within his mind. He nestled his face against your chest once more sighing into it, his arms encircling your form, drawing his body ever closer, as if seeking to fuse his very body with yours.

Both of you knew this brief peace was destined to shatter, as inevitable as a raindrop meeting the earth. Yet, for now, you chose to remain entwined, savouring the warmth of your bodies pressed together. Even the rain, once a curse, now felt like a gentle caress.

As your fingers traced the sharp lines of Levi’s undercut while he slept against your chest, you understood this was the moment—the singular truth you craved, the only reality you sought to possess.

[legendofmorons]

Percy jackson au

Four

Greek child of hephestus

Loves stocking CHB armory, and he's literally the best

Probably wins the scavenger hunts

Hyrule

Greek child of Apollo

Joins camp at 5 and is sweetheart

Healing powers

Glows

Legend

Roman Child of Fortuna (luck godess)

Joined the legion at 8.

He's so jaded He's had too many quests and too many magic items

Sky

Roman Child of mercury

He's good at picking up languages and traveling

Time

Roman Child of mars

Joined Lupa at 7, joined the legion at 9

Becomes praetor at 16 and servers for 8 years

Marries Malon (daughter of demeter- yes greek. She keeps her secret)

Uses a sword mainly

Epona is a pegasus

Twilight

Roman descendant of Mars (and also demeter)- posses superior athleticism

He was horn and raised in camp jupiter

Joins the legion at 12

Warriors

Greek child of aphrodite

Charm speak baby

Wild

Roman Child of Bellona, descendant of Jupiter

He joined the legion at 8, and became right hand man to Zelda at 12

He's expected to be perfect- so he stays silent.

He becomes Prawtor with Zelda at 18- they serve 10 years

Wind

Greek child of Apollo

Archery and sword!

Has sunlight manipulation

Also is really good with music

Please stop him from haikus

More to come probably

[gnomeonamelon]

I was trying to design a daughter of Neptune for my au (the currently unnamed one with Ash Tornin) when I came to the realization that she was looking a lot like Ana Dakkar from Daughter of the Deep.

Ana is the demigod daughter of Neptune and a descendant of Salacia (the Roman goddess of the sea). She was raised in San Alejandro, California (a beach town just north of Santa Barbara) with her stepfather (a son of Mars) and older half-brother, Dev. When Dev turned 13, he left to train and join the Legion up north.

While her parents had already served their ten years, they were summoned by the gods on a quest to retrieve the Golden Eagle. They both died on this quest. With nowhere else to go (and heading off soon anyways), a twelve year old Ana made her way northward. Several months later, she would join the 5th cohort on account of a lack of combat skill and her father being generally seen as less important.

When he was 17 (the same year Ana would finally arrive at New Rome), Dev was elected praedor. Little did anyone know; he was a traitor working for Saturn and the Titans. He would die two years later in the final battle on Mount Othrys, where Jason would supersede him.

While Ana isn't the best when it comes to combat, she is an excellent tracker, scout, seaman, and communicator. She is able to speak several languages including (but not limited to) English, Latin, and Bundeli, as well as knowing sign language.

Powers wise, she is an incredible swimmer, can breathe underwater, and understand with sea creatures. Hypothetically, she can also generate earthquakes but is reluctant to do so due to the abundance of fault lines in California. She's only tried it once and is.... unwilling to do so again.

[felassan]

this post is under a cut in case anyone would consider it to be DA:D spoilers. (the things it mentions are not new information and it's minor stuff only)

a few weeks ago it was noticed that on this website, a new VA was listed as the voice of several named characters in DA:D - 'Olen', 'Marek’, 'Lord Borgiani’ and 'Templar Captain'. [source] like I said in the tags on that post, I'd guess that these are more minor-type of characters, like sidequest chars or quest-givers, -type of deal. (so this is overanalyzing for sure ik, its just a bit of fun). I was thinking about this again today, wondering what type of characters (e.g. what race, where are they from etc) they are, and also got to looking up the names online. disclaimer: I was just poking around on Google here, if anything here is incorrect or you're familiar with the names/words and know better, pls lmk! ^^

none of the names return any results on the DA Wiki.

Lord Borgiani - Borgiani seems to be a surname that originates in Italy. the nations and groups in Thedas have multiple inspirations/influences from irl (not just the one) ofc. one of these for Antiva is said to be Italy. Borgiani sounds like it could be an Antivan name, so I'm wondering if Lord Borgiani is Antivan. "Lord" implies they are a dude. their Lord status could imply that they're human nobility. Lord/Lady is a noble title in Antiva (not only there though, ofc). thinking of characters like Lord Otranto from Josie's romance and Lord Enzo of Rialto. putting "borgiani" into Google translate, it detects Corsican as the language and advises "bourgeois" in English, which, you could easily make a link from there to a character who has some form of status.

Marek - a "West Slavic (Czech, Polish and Slovak) masculine given name", like "Mark" in English. it's also a surname. allegedly the name means "warlike" or is ultimately derived from Mars, the Roman god of war via, e.g., "Marcus" (name sites are quite unreliable though in terms of the info on them sometimes). Czech, Polish, Slovak, Slavic & so on names in DA World crop up quite a bit as the names of dwarven characters, so I wonder if Marek is a dwarf?

Olen - a given name and a surname. it's also a place in Belgium and Russia, and Olen was a legendary early poet from Lycia. this page gives Olen as being a name related to the name Ole, "a Danish and Norwegian masculine given name, derived from the Old Norse name Óláfr, meaning "ancestor's descendant". this page gives it as the "masculine form of Olena, a name ultimately derived from Ole." hmm, maybe someone Fereldan, Avvar, dwarven or from the Anderfels?

Templar Captain - as a character without a specified given name, surely they are a minor-minor/background character like e.g., "Templar Guard" from Lake Calenhad Docks (DA:O). self-explanatory. likely human.

[context, two]

[rinasunny]

Canon details of Eros and Psyche tale often missed out by the retellings [Part 3]

During her sea vacation Aphrodite/Venus completely abandons her duties, probably due to the fact that she wasn't worshipped for a while. A seagull comes to her and says there is neither friendship nor love amongst humans, though she is not the only culprit. It informs her of rumour of Eros/Cupid having a girlfriend. Psyche isn't Aphrodite's first guess. She thinks of Nymphs, the Hours, or the Muses, or the Graces instead. Even these suggestions make her angry and when she learns the identity she is obviously furious but not only at Psyche.

Upon reuniting with her son Aphrodie is NOT kind or caring towards him. She goes on full rant about him being naughty and disrespectful towards everyone, especially gods. She rants about him making her cheat on Hephaestus/Vulcan, but at the same time the fact that Ares/Mars has lovers besides her. Calls him names, expresses her anxiety about becoming a grandmother (I guess she forgot that Aenaes had descendants). On top of that threatens to take away his equipment (the bow, arrows, his torch and even wings) and give to one of her slave boys (that she would adopt). Eros doesn't respond.

Upon exiting their palace she stumbles upon Demeter/Ceres and Hera/Juno, who heard her rant. She expects their support but they take Cupid&Psyche's side and try to reason with her, but as we all know do not succeed.

After tricking her sisters into falling off a cliff Psyche searches Eros/Cupid and accidentally finds an abandoned temple of Demeter/Ceres, it's quite messy but Psyche doesn't leave it as is.

It was heaped with ears of wheat, some woven into wreaths, and ears of barley. There were sickles, and all the other harvest implements, but scattered about in total disorder, as if left there by the harvesters escaping the summer sun. Psyche sorted them all into separate piles, thinking she should not neglect the temples or rituals of any deity, but rather appeal to the kindness and mercy of them all.

Demeter comes to her saying that Aphrodite is looking for her and she's pissed. Psyche begs her to allow her to hide in the temple for a few days until Aphrodite forgets about her. Despite sympathy towards Psyche Demeter rejects her.

5. Psyche seeks refuge in Hera's temple. She does more or less the same thing she did in Demeter's temple to the same result. In Roman Empire if you hide a slave (Psyche) from his/owner (Venus/Aphrodite) you bring them back with your own slave + monetary compensation.

6. Aphrodite decides to seek Psyche with Hermes/Mercury's help, gives him the then equivalent of wanted poster. The one arrests her should bring her to Mercury by her shrine in the Circus Maximus. The reward is seven kisses from Aphrodite and "one more deeply honeyed touch of her caressing tongue".

7. Everyone searches for Psyche though she pretty much comes herself.

8. Upon meeting with Psyche Aphrodite beats her up and laughs at her, then goes on another (quite sarcastic) rant. Here's an important thing Aphrodite claims Psyche to be her slave and the marriage between Eros and Psyche was illegitimate (back then the Roman law required weddings required witnesses and consent from a groom's father i.e. Zeus/Jupiter). Thus Psyche's child would be a bastard, though Aphrodite suggested she might not let the child to be born.

9. Right after Psyche gets whipped and tortured by Aphrodites servants Anxiety and Sorrow.

10. This context pretty much frames Psyche's labours not as quests to get Eros back but punishment and torture from Aphrodite. Starting with second labour they are designed specifically to kill Psyche off. That's why she tried to kill herself at the start of every new labour except the first (she just froze).

11. Since retellings tend to describe the labours quite accurately I'm not gonna go into detail, except for the fact that after completion of each labour Aphrodite accuses Psyche of cheating, that it was her secret lover who helped her do all of these.

To be continued...

[thelordofgifs]

Obscure Tolkien Blorbo: Quarterfinal

Urwen vs Eldacar of Gondor

Urwen:

Also known as Lalaith, she was the elder daughter of Húrin and Morwen and died age three of the Evil Breath from Angband.

MY SWEET LAUGHING DAUGHTER SHE DESERVED SO MUCH BETTER

In response to her death, Hurin says this "Marrer of Middle-earth, would that I might see you face to face, and mar you as my lord Fingolfin did!' His love and subsequent loss of her is definitely a motivator, I think, for his later valiant defiance of Morgoth! So she may have died young but she had a big impact. (I mean if we want to apply the butterfly effect she kinda caused the fall of Nargothrond: motivated Hurin to deny Morgoth, got Turin cursed to give really bad advice about bridges, no more Nargothrond.  How many 3 year olds could claim that? Also more seriously, a lot of the deaths in the Silm are violent and awful. But we little of mundane, quiet deaths from sickness. A young child dying in this way stands out in its more realist tragedy. And it shows the subtler ways Morgoth sowed despair in middle earth and also that he knew the Edain were a threat. The 'evil breath' mostly killed 'the children or the rising youth in the houses of Men.'

Eldacar of Gondor:

The twenty-first King of Gondor, also known as Vinitharya. During his reign the conflict known as the Kin-strife occurred and he was forced from his throne for ten years.

The blorbo of all time actually. He’s the protagonist of one of the most interesting stories in the LoTR appendices, the Kin-strife, and everything about his life story is so fascinating! His father was the crown prince of Gondor and his mother was the princess of Rhovanion so not a Númenorean. As a result all the racist nobles of Gondor made noises about how Eldacar was of “lesser race” and wouldn’t live as long as a “true Dúnadan”. One of the most fascinating examples of fantasy racism in Tolkien’s works imo – the bigotry is awful but the bigots have a shield to hide behind! Obviously their concerns are actually valid because they just don’t want their king to die young! (Their concerns aren’t valid. But I think the worldbuilding here is great.) Anyway Eldacar was born in Rhovanion and given the birth-name Vinitharya, but when he returned to Gondor aged five he was obliged to take up the Quenya name Eldacar, presumably to pacify all the racists in Gondor. He’s the EMBODIMENT of mixed-race/immigrant child trauma my beloved. Eventually his father died and he ascended to the throne of Gondor, but then his shitty second cousin Castamir (all my homies hate Castamir he’s the worst) started the civil war known as the Kin-strife and usurped Eldacar’s throne. Eldacar was forced to flee north to Rhovanion but Castamir captured his eldest son Ornendil and had him cruelly put to death which is SO SAD. But Eldacar, being brave and resourceful and clever and extremely cool, put together an alliance with his mother’s kinsfolk in Rhovanion and after ten years reclaimed his throne, which turned out to be slightly easier than expected because Castamir was The Worst and all his subjects hated him. And Eldacar PERSONALLY fought and killed Castamir HIMSELF and AVENGED HIS SON which is extremely important when you consider all the cringefail elves in the legendarium whose quests for revenge didn’t really go anywhere at all. Then he lived to be 235 proving that all the idiot racists who were worried about his lifespan didn’t have any idea what they were talking about, as is par for the course with racists. Also the Kin-strife itself has such far-reaching consequences for the history of Gondor! The Corsairs of Umbar, Gondor’s long-standing enemies, are actually followers of the descendants of Castamir. And during the Usurpation of Castamir Osgiliath was sacked and burned, leading to the beginning of its decline as Gondor’s greatest city. Even though Eldacar’s story is, to me, ultimately hopeful, it’s also such a fascinating turning point in the history of Gondor. Also ALSO he’s explicitly surrounded by textual ghosts which is really fascinating. His father Valacar has “children” plural – so Eldacar had siblings!! What were they like? How did they react to it all? And his son Aldamir is described as Eldacar’s second son and third child, meaning that he had a daughter too. Who was she?? What happened to her? He’s such a blorbo and there’s so much interesting stuff to dig into around him and he has to win this entire tournament please please please❤️

Quarterfinals masterpost

[thebibliomancer]

Universe X #5

We’ve got some Micronauts. I’m still surprised and alarmed that they’re part of Universe X’s big picture.

Although, here they are called the Ant Men.

Huh. Weren’t Scott Lang and his daughter stowed away in Tony’s refurbished Red Ronin armor? I guess they died when he tried to fight the Celestials. That’s depressing.

So red guy is Ant Man, son of Marionette and Arcturus Rann. I guess he named the team after himself.

Bug is the green one. Fun fact: the 616 version was in the Guardians of the Galaxy. Marionette is glowy, golden light woman. Neutron is the one who has the tall, conical head. Proton is the egg shaped one. Spartak is orange and has the crested helmet. And Spidra is upside down woman with all the hair.

Did you need to know their names? No and neither did I.

You’re welcome.

We’re following up from the Cap Special here so we start with Captain America’s funeral, held in the ruins of Washington DC and the grave of American democracy.

Wyatt Wingfoot, Cap’s former partner Redwing, gives the eulogy, calling Steve an unknown soldier, not really understood by the people he spent his life protecting.

So things are grim.

Not helped by funeral drama.

Redwing blows up at Lil Mar-Vell when various heroes offer to take up Cap’s role in guarding him on his quest. As far as Wyatt is concerned, Mar-Vell caused Cap’s death. By dragging him around on some weird quest and not being able to save him despite saying he has cosmic consciousness.

Also, Unpersoned Loki tries to start off on a new page with Thor but of all approaches chooses a flirty one.

I kind of want to roll up a newspaper and give Loki a smack.

The Tong of Creel attacks Windsor Castle to claim another piece of Absorbing Man.

King Captain Britain has impressive forces to throw at the problem. Himself, riding a Dragon Man. The Union Jacks. The Iron Avengers. Medusa. The new Black Widow, on loan from Russia. The new Black Knight/Prince of the Inhumans.

King Britain is more than equipped to kick the Tong of Creel’s ass in a straightforward fight. But while he’s doing one of those, someone sneaks behind the lines and just swipes the chest of Absorbing Man.

Dammit but that’s embarrassing. You know these guys are after the pieces. You know that they tend to swipe them in the chaos of battle. You should have prepared a better place for it than a glass display case! Throw it into the Sun!

Meanwhile, Mar-Vell and new protectors Venom, Thor, the circus X-Men, gorilla Hulk and child Bruce, and half-on-fire Namor go to HELL.

The Human Engineering Life Laboratory.

Acronyms are fun.

Home to the Prometheus Pit, once the entrance to the Microverse or Subatomica.

Mar-Vell needed to come here to get Psycho-Man’s Emotio-Caster. And he finds that the Prometheus Pit is clogged with some weird, organic matter.

The Ant Men are finally relevant to the story because they pop up to exposit everything. Well, Nighthawk got the opening exposition dump about Microverse stuff, too.

In the far off future, Prince Wayfinder finds a sentient sword embedded in a star that leads him to Earth of the distant past and created the subatomic world for him and his people to live on. The sword also imbued him with the Enigma Force, making him the first Captain Universe.

When Wayfinder died, the Enigma Force passed down to his descendant Arcturus Rann. But when Psycho-Man got tired of the Fantastic Four kicking his ass, he conquered his own home the Microverse, using his Emotio-Caster to fill people with fear, doubt, and hate. He even influenced Marionette to kill her own husband Rann.

The Enigma Force that was in him passed into the Realm of Death instead of choosing a new, living host and chose Dead Mar-Vell.

That’s the big inciting event for Mar-Vell’s side of the plot. That’s why he’s suddenly making moves despite having been dead for a long while.

When all hope was lost to save the Microverse from Psycho-Man, Ant Man and his Ant Men chose scorched earth. They evacuated through the Prometheus Pit and then had Man-Thing clog it up so nobody else could escape. Literally scorched. All who know fear burn at the Man-Thing’s touch.

The Microverse was on borrowed time. It was created and sustained by the Enigma Force. When that Force died with Rann, the world it created began falling apart.

The last of the Enigma Force that had been in the Microverse then went back in time and empowered the last survivor of the previous universe.

Yes, that’s right. In Universe X, Galactus and the Microverse share the same origin.

It gets betterworse, depending on your tolerance for this arc welding. Aaron Stack, the new Watcher, speculates that it wasn’t the sword that gave Wayfinder power and created a world for him, it was the star the sword was stuck into. And Galactus’ ultimate fate was to be turned into a star. Therefore, we have a bootstrap paradox time loopy.

The Enigma Force creates Galactus who gets turned into a star which creates the Enigma Force and the Microverse, which eventually collapses and sends its last energy back in time to create Galactus.

I don’t have to like it but I do have to respect Earth X and its sequels conspiracy board with yarn between various things “it’s all connected!” approach.

Neutron yanks the Emotio-Caster out of the mess for Mar-Vell, which finally collapses whatever remained of Subatomica and Man-Thing.

Venom asks what Mar-Vell needs the emotion controlling device for and he says he wants to make people happy.

Nobody seems to find this alarming or ominous!

Maybe because he bolded happy. I feel that given the device in question the emphasis should have been on “make people happy.”

So much of this quest is Mar-Vell gathering up dangerous items and going “just trust me, bro” and people do!

Also, Mr S (Cyclops) realizes that he can communicate with Phoenix in the Realm of the Dead through their psychic rapport.

In perhaps the only significant characterization that the new X-Men have gotten so far, Charmer is upset about that because she has a crush on Scott.

And while pondering the Galactus-Enigma Force ouroboros, Aaron Stack goes and digs up the Supreme Intelligence from beneath the surface of the Moon, like he’s been talking about doing for a while, and sits on him.

Five issues, an issue 0, and three specials in. And still not a really concrete idea of where we’re going with this.

Aaron at least decides to go talk to Nighthawk soon. I’m glad for him. Going out and talking to new people instead of pondering the multiverse and letting Uatu yell at him.

[ahb-writes]

Manga Review: 'The Valiant Must Fall' #1

The Valiant Must Fall #1 by Yu Aida

culture studies

fantasy

historical fantasy

historical drama

historical fiction

Meiji Japan

samurai

My Rating: 4 of 5 stars

Japan is changing. Regional alliances have been winnowed into nothing. Historical family dynasties have been felled by their own blades. Federated police units enforce strict new public codes of conduct. A new government for a new era.

Also, the samurai is functionally extinct.

THE VALIANT MUST FALL v1 pulls readers into the travails of a purpose-driven warrior out of time and place in the age of the Meiji Restoration. Oniuda Haruyasu is ill-fated; he is one of a handful of lingering survivors of failed rebellions and who brandishes a now-outmoded loyalty to a decapitated household. Haruyasu is a talented swordsman. In battle, his nickname was onikuro, or "black demon." Now, however, he has no master, no goal, and no purpose. He has no one to fight for and no one to defend.

Enter Kyuko Shino, a child of mythos. She is a woman in need of a soldier, an ally, and a conspirator. She is also, incredibly, reluctantly, immortal.

THE VALIANT MUST FALL v1 is part historical fiction and part urban fantasy. Readers encounter beautiful, period-accurate renderings of busy street markets, clothes, buildings, and more, alongside dark and clever variations on humankind's perilous quest for eternal youth and power. Tales of a new government seeking to validate its influence over a curious populace collide and merge with inscrutable legends of a people, retainers, descended from mountain-folk who cannot be killed. Japan is changing.

The samurai is functionally extinct. And a wandering, masterless swordsman falls into favor of an immortal woman with vengeance on the mind.

This manga is remarkable but patient. The plethora of period comics, and samurai content in particular, often shy away from the stoic and transcendent darkness of unyielding loyalty. Not so for this book. THE VALIANT MUST FALL v1 is an unsparingly serious and particular manga: swordsmen are not afraid to kill; corruption and abuse are rampant; madness is around every corner; and kindness and fealty are luxuries often afforded to those incapable of believing in themselves.

Haruyasu enters the employ of the young Miss Shino and is tasked to steal a darkness-infused blade from the Imperial Palace. The reason? Shino desires to end the lives of she and other immortals. Why? Because when blessed with ephemeral beauty or eternal youth or self-healing abilities, the garish faces of the government will surely find a way to mar such gifts. Haruyasu ponders this imbricated torment of torments, but agrees to help. And once more, he is a warrior with a purpose.

This is what a samurai manga looks like when its characters aren't effervescent goofballs, when the creative team actually studies the hand placement and footwork required to deftly wield a katana or wakizashi, and when the narrative is directly influenced by the politics of the time, rather than conveniently standing apart from or ignoring it. This is what a samurai manga looks like when taken seriously, and likewise blended with the steady, unblinking wonderment of a secret hidden in plain sight. Stories of immortal protectors of the palace? Held against their will? And of the humans who serve them as well? Also, perhaps, against their will?

THE VALIANT MUST FALL v1 is for readers who pay close attention to how the wrist bends when a sword is swung (e.g., Haruyasu is quick, but he also knows his limits). It's for readers who enjoy meeting characters who don't dither when circumstances demand quick action (e.g., Shino doesn't hesitate to command the death of a relative who interferes with her cause). And it's for readers who are tired of the impracticality of modern storytelling taking precedent (e.g., the comic focuses on older characters: Haruyasu is 33 years old; Hachiro, an old friend of Haruyasu's and a former shogunate retainer, is 31 years old; Shino, though she looks young, is between 29 and 44 years old). This is a samurai manga with the potential to pull readers into an insightful, new and dark direction.

❯ ❯ Manga Reviews || ahb writes on Good Reads

[fyeahwebnovels]

ONGOING

Webnovels in this directory are still updating, and/or are a part of experimental formats that are still updating (i.e. a series of webnovels set in the same universe, contained on the same website, where some are complete but others are updating currently).

Astielle by kitty unpretty (romance, fantasy, queer)

A half-feral hero, a monster king, a bastard prince, and an open world. Bound by destiny, they save or slay one another, an endless cycle of death and rebirth. When the Moonlight Monster rises, the Starlight Hero is Astielle’s only hope. Unfortunately, she’s a little busy with her rock collection.

BEHOLD! by Rune (comedy, queer, fantasy, adventure)

For a thousand years stories of world-saving hero Butterbar the Beautiful have inspired bravery, heroism, and mythic levels of hypermasculine dumbshittery. Now Butterbar’s tomb is opening and every would-be hero on the Earthshard is gathering to claim his power–and also Naewoon, a disgraced academic come to the edge of the world to study Butterbar’s worshipers. Beginning his journey by almost getting murdered by bandits, Naewoon is rescued by Brodcrum the Bloody, an enormous warrior and self-described “man-witch” who has mistaken the diminutive scholar for a damsel in distress. Each fascinated by the other, Brodcrum and Naewoon set off together–and are forced to cooperate with Brodcrum’s ex and her scary spider-covered wife when surprise attacks by two competing dark lords leave the tomb pilgrims scattered. Now, with undead hordes and high tech imperialists on their heels, the four adventurers seek the tomb–a quest that will reshape their world and themselves.

Blank Slate by Michael Blankslate (fantasy)

A dark fantasy web serial about fire.

Brennus by Tieshaunn (superhero, historical)

This is the story of a world where powers appeared in the Roaring Twenties and caused history to take a very strange turn. More precisely, it’s the story of a bunch of young people, whom gain powers and set out to change the world their precursors made. And even more precisely, it’s the story of Basil, maybe, a young gadgeteer, and the trials and tribulations he faces on his path to a goal he himself knows little of.

Children of the Wells by various authors (fantasy)

In a nutshell, Children of the Wells is a series of novellas set in a fantasy world that developed along similar technological lines as our own but with magic as the energy source. Then stuff goes BOOM! and our story begins.

Chum by reachartwork (superhero, slice-of-life)

Chum is a story about superheroes, supervillains, people with powers who reject either label, sharks, fishing, Philadelphia, the Jersey Shore but the part that’s full of old Jewish people and not party people, how growing up sucks, how authority sucks, how fascists suck, cancer, and teeth.

Collapse Protocol by Vern Carson (sci fi, action, queer)

Sen Devartani is a pretty ordinary guy, save for one thing - his all-too-autonomous imagination. An imagination that's managed to create a fictional persona, complete with memories that shouldn't exist. All handily delivered to him in the form of unexpected blackouts. Culwell is a superhuman being in a system where he is unmatched. He's the product of an experiment to create a perfect being, and Culwell is just that: perfect. He intends to bring the entirety of humanity under his rule, and that means heading onto the battlefield himself. Even the satellite colonies around Venus aren't safe. Sen's entire world is shattered the moment Culwell descends on Mars and targets his home. He loses everything, his family slaughtered by Culwell himself, all for a war he doesn't understand. As he's sucked into the conflict, he slowly realizes why his family was targeted, as well as who - or what - he is.

The Descendants by Landon Porter (superhero)

The Descendants is the title of the main series in a family of web serial novels set in the Descendants Universe. It follows a group of individuals with supernatural powers (collectively known at the beginning of the series as psionics) following their discovery that they’ve been betrayed by the Psionics Training and Application and Academy, a school founded to train young psionics to use their powers for the good of their nation.

The Flower That Bloomed Nowhere by Lurina (fantasy, mystery, horror)

The world is in the midst of a golden age. Humanity has been largely united under a single government for two centuries, scarcity has been all but eliminated, and the human lifespan has been extended further than ever before, with many living for five centuries or longer. Yet cracks have begun to form in this utopia. Progress in science has outpaced social values, leading to conflict as the new generation struggles with the prospect of perpetual disenfranchisement under their all-but-unaging elders. In this era of transition, a class of gifted young arcanists are invited to attend a conclave held by the enigmatic Order of the Universal Panacea, an ancient organization devoted to pursuing the secret of true immortality. Several of the participants, however, have ulterior motives for attending, including Utsushikome of Fusai, a young prodigy of Thanatomancy whose grandfather was once a member. But unbeknownst to them, there is a curse on the Order of the Universal Panacea. One does not defy death and the natural order lightly. And an uninvited guest may already lurk among them; one that is not human. In the end, all of them will have to ask: What can be found in this world, that is truly eternal? The curtain rises on this, mankind's final battle with entropy, and the possible outcomes are death, or a slightly later, more complicated form of death. Even so, please try to enjoy yourself.

The Gods are Bastards by D.D. Webb (steampunk, western, historical, fantasy)

Set in a familiar high-fantasy universe of wizards, dragons and elves, the action takes place roughly fifteen hundred years after the medieval stasis in which most high fantasy is set, during an era much like Earth’s Industrial Revolution.  Mass production of enchanted goods has revolutionized all aspects of life, energy weapons have made blades and armor all but obsolete, and the world is connected and illuminated by magical analogues of trains, telegraphs and electric lights.  With progress has come social and political upheaval: the scattered feudal kingdoms of yore have been consolidated into a now-precarious Empire, the clerics of various gods have organized themselves into a mighty Universal Church, and the first stirrings of modern education and an Enlightenment ethos have taken root in a young University.  On the other hand, dragons are nearly extinct, elves have been herded onto reservations, and the days when a person could make a living as a wandering adventurer are long since over. It’s a new world, and the people of the Empire must learn to live in it, or fall to ancient threats they have tried to forget…

Katabasis by Apex Altra (adventure, fantasy, furry)

In an alternate Earth where humans have the heads of animals, and where the animals aren’t always what they seem, the Firebird rules myth and legend. Said to have divine power, it appears every millennium to grant the wishes of a select few. A young woman discovers that she's among them, but there are two problems: She doesn’t remember ever seeing the Firebird, and she definitely doesn’t remember wishing for immortality! Ignoring her thrill-seeking nature, she's decided that her only way forward is to get a degree. But after being attacked, she finds herself in a magical bond with a violent monster- one who's taken a keen interest in her ability. Now her only chance of getting her normal life back is to work with him and a group of newfound allies. She must dive into the space between life and death to uncover the Firebird's secrets, along with a few things about herself, too. But her attacker is still on the loose, and the task is more dangerous than anyone realizes…

Katalepsis by Hazel Young (horror, cosmic horror, urban fantasy, queer)

Nightmares and hallucinations have plagued Heather Morell all her life, relics of schizophrenia and childhood bereavement. Until she meets Raine and Evelyn, that is — self-proclaimed bodyguard and bad-tempered magician — and learns she’s not insane at all. The spirits and monsters she sees are all too real, the god-thing in her nightmares is teaching her how to surpass human limits, and her twin sister who supposedly never existed could still be alive, somewhere Outside, beyond the walls of reality. Heather plunges into a world of eldritch magic and fanatic cultists, trying to stay alive, stay sane, and deal with her own blossoming attraction to dangerous women. But being ‘In The Know’ isn’t all terror and danger. Sometimes the monsters wear nice dresses and stick around for afternoon tea. Sometimes you find you have more in common with them than you think. Perhaps this is Heather’s chance to be something more than the defeated husk she’d grown up as, to find real friendship and meaning among things like herself – and perhaps, out there on the rim of the possible, to bring her twin sister back from the dead.

The Legion of Nothing by Jim Zoetewey (superhero)

Nick Klein never intended to be a superhero. But, with the death of his grandfather, an active superhero during World War 2 through the early 1980’s, everything changed. Nick inherited his grandfather’s powered armor, his grandfather’s team’s command center, and found that his friends (the grandchildren of other team members) were very much interested in bringing back the Grand Lake Heroes League. Nick had to make a choice. Go along with everyone else or avoid it? If he did go along with it, and restart the League, would any of the old League’s unfinished business come back to haunt them?

Link Rot by Qrowscant (horror, sci-fi, multimedia)

Link Rot follows those within a research station. Once dedicated to the study and containment of a newly discovered life form, complications arise following its unexpected merge with the station's AI.

Necroepilogos by Hazel Young (horror, sci fi, queer)

Nothing walks the black cinder of Earth except the undead leftovers, reanimated by science so advanced it may as well be magic. Twisted into unimaginable forms by flesh-shaping and machine-grafting, the undead are the only remnant of a civilization reduced to bitter ash and organic slurry. Zombies shuffle through the ruins of nuclear fire and biological warfare and far worse, alongside rusted war-machines still holding the posts of a thousand ancient conflicts, dwarfed by god-engines turned so alien that even the extinct necromancers would have run screaming. Elpida doesn’t know this world, but she’s up on her feet, leading a half-dozen other fresh revenants, ripped from the oblivion of eternity and disgorged shivering and naked on cold metal slabs in a womb-lab of blinking lights and blaring alarms, by machines running some ancient plan to spit them out into a world long dead. Necroepilogos is a web serial about body horror and alienation, weird zombie-girls gluing themselves back together, mad science beyond mortal ken, and trying to cradle the flower of companionship in twitching, undead fingers.

Nowhere Stars by Anenome (horror, urban fantasy)

Liadain, a girl born terminally ill, has only ever wanted to live — forever, if at all possible. Instead, shortly after her thirteenth birthday, she’s consigned to spend her last months in hospice care.  Until the night she encounters a monster more terrifying than death, and her savior offers her a chance to achieve her impossible dream. A chance to become a Keeper, one of the chosen children whose magic serves as humanity’s sole defense against Harbingers, living nightmares that devour dreams and passions and souls. Few Keepers accept the mantle simply to be heroes, though. Those who consume enough Harbingers grow into something more than human, obtaining the power to change themselves in nearly any way they wish.  So Liadain throws herself into a new life, hoping against hope to save herself. But magic is foremost an expression of the soul. Shaped by her cold bitterness, her new power grants her dominion over sickness, death, and ill-fate, forcing her to wield the things she hates most as weapons. And as she delves ever deeper into the minds of Harbingers, tearing fragments of her salvation from their hearts, Liadain can’t help but wonder if their hunger is really so different from her own.

Pale Lights by erraticerrata (horror, fantasy, adventure)

Vesper is a world built on the ruins of older ones: in the dark of that colossal cavern no one has ever known the edges of, empires rise and fall like flickering candles. Civilization huddles around pits of the light that falls through the cracks in firmament, known by men as the Glare. It is the unblinking stare of the never-setting sun that destroyed the Old World, the cruel mortar that allows survival far below. Few venture beyond its cast, for in the monstrous and primordial darkness of the Gloam old gods and devils prowl as men made into darklings worship hateful powers. So it has been for millennia, from the fabled reign of the Antediluvians to these modern nights of blackpowder and sail. And now the times are changing again. The fragile peace that emerged after the last of the Succession Wars is falling apart, the great powers squabbling over trade and colonies. Conspiracies bloom behind every throne, gods of the Old Night offer wicked pacts to those who would tear down the order things and of all Vesper only the Watch has seen the signs of the madness to come. God-killers whose duty is to enforce the peace between men and monsters, the Watch would hunt the shadows. Yet its captain-generals know the strength of their companies has waned, and to meet the coming doom measures will have to be taken. It will begin with Scholomance, the ancient school of the order opened again for the first time in over a century, and the students who will walk its halls.

The Primal Hunter by Zogarth (sci fi, action)

On just another normal Monday, the world changed. The universe had reached a threshold humanity didn’t even know existed, and it was time to finally be integrated into the vast multiverse. A world where power is the only thing that one can truly rely on. Jake, a seemingly average office worker, finds himself thrust into this new world. Into a tutorial filled with dangers and opportunities. In a world that should breed fear and concern, an environment that makes his fellow coworkers falter, Jake instead finds himself thriving. Perhaps… Jake was born for this kind of world, to begin with.

Princess Murders the Hero by makapatag (fantasy, action)

In the Isles of Violence, the Spider Lily of Azure Flame is sent to the neighboring Sultanate as bride gift to create an allegiance, to consolidate power, and The Ashen Star God, with 180 Sidereal Swords, sends the Hero of Prophecy to Herald of the Millennium Kingdom: Sunder the world with your sins. A storm upends the supposedly uneventful bride-gifting: the Spider Lily is visited by her demon-witch mother, and for the first time after being released from her perpetual seclusion, experiences the truth of the world: Violence until glory. Witness now: the Spider Lily of the Azure Flame, the Shining Lightning of the Dragon Guard, her demon-sorceress servant, the Greatest Warrior in the Isles, and the Half-Female Lord, as they trawl and trudge and strive and survive in the Isles of Violence, knowing the one truth fulminating from their souls: The hero must die.

Roguehunter by Vern Carson (sci fi, cyberpunk)

Retired Roguehunter Alex Park may not know what a café is, nor does he understand basic addition, but what he does know how to do is kill. And these particular skills land him in hot water when he makes the mistake of rejecting a mysterious woman's offer of a job. After she ends up dumped in his dumpster, he takes up arms once more to find the perpetrators. Not to avenge the woman, but to punish them for using his dumpster. It's his, after all. It's for his bodies, and his bodies only. In doing so, he dips his toes deeper into the underworld of Site 17 than he ever has before.

The Shattering by The Scribe (fantasy, queer)

The Shattering is a fantasy web novel about three queer middle-aged warriors banding together to fight an ancient evil that's threatening to literally tear the continent apart. They also semi-adopt a Chosen One kid in the process. Torvola, an old knight who thought her fighting days were long behind her, takes up the mantle of champion once more to fulfill her duty to the queen. Cazan, an archer and a blood mage, fights to protect the kid they took on as a student and prove that there is such a thing as ethical blood magic. Caleste, a countess on an endless quest for fame and glory, throws herself headlong into the battle to save the continent (and finally get the hero title she rightfully deserves).

Stardust by valentine dagger (sci-fi, horror, queer)

In a speculative near-future United States of America, a reptillian alien species colloquially known as Dusties have inserted themselves into the US government via a military takeover. Dusties are named for the pollutant dust they dissolve into on death, sometimes referred to as stardust; stardust pollutes the atmosphere, forcing humans to wear dust masks and respirators when they go outside, and blocks wireless signals, preventing wireless transmission of information by anyone other than the Dusties themselves. Several years after the initial coup and bombings, July Wright, a fiery sniper with closeted psychosis, and Cass Trehan, a brutally intelligent strategist, are young officers in a paramilitary cult formed in opposition to the Dusty-run government, hiding in the subway tunnels of New York City. When the militia takes a key player in the coup into custody, July and Cass find themselves embroiled in a plot to assassinate President Taner, which quickly spirals out of control. While grappling with their isolated, militaristic upbringing, July and Cass must also make sense of intergalactic politics, surreal and hallucinatory experiences, the existence of other planes of reality--and figure out what the Dusties want from them, and what it has to do with July's dead twin sister.

Stone Burners by Syphax (superhero)

Olivia has awoken to a strange world. With mere scraps of memories and a warped, unfamiliar body, she must find help to survive. However, a vast criminal syndicate, an urban legend, and more all threaten to snuff her out before she can find her footing.

[tsckcyomi-archived]

Yotsuyu is so important as an antipode to an archaic trope of a ‘pure virginal girl’ common in Asian media, thirsted for and revered by misogynist men, and presented as an ideal to strive for, to young girls.

While women like Yotsuyu would be commonly pitted against the aforementioned ‘pure’ women, and presented as ‘tainted’ and often as villainous seductresses for the hero to rebuff or kill to find his ‘true’ love, she is a woman who has found her agency and weaponised the role she’s been thrust into by her society.

There is no reason for her to care about Doma, because Doma never cared about her. To them, she was marred as soon as she stopped being that ideal of a pure and virginal girl, just as it happened to countless women raised in such societies, in real life. As an afab person from a similar background, she was incredibly liberating to observe and there was that ugly fantasy of a revenge that was fulfilled in her, that many have dreamed of.

Unfortunately, her end was predictable, as there is no place for women like her, in stories dominated by men who will be forgiven no matter what, because their goals were benevolent, or because their beliefs were strong, or because men like them think their intentions justify the means. While, she is seen as selfish and unworthy of redemption, because her pain is hers, and it remains unheard and unimportant, to those deciding the fates of the counties and of entire planets.

It feels hurtful and unfair, when you’ve felt that pain yourself. But, there she is and there her story is, and it’s still cathartic in a way. She isn’t going to appear to us in a flowing white gown descending from the heavens, and won’t smile wistfully to encourage us to carry on, in our dreams, existing as a ghost to continue validating us on our journey. And that’s part of what makes her great.

So, thank you for loving her and writing her, sincerely.

honestly there isn't much I can add to what you've already said because you hit the nail on the head… Yotsuyu is a reflection of the ugliness beneath all the beauty of her culture, a culture which has its counterparts irl that are idolized by media and people that benefit from these structures. She's beautiful, and she's been taught that that's where her worth lies. She's a pawn in the lives of the men in her life but in the end she turns it all on its head and uses her lowly position and her hatred to elevate herself into a position of power over the people that didn't care for her suffering.

I also know that there are a lot of FFXIV players who wish that Yotsuyu had stayed amnesiac and lived a peaceful life with Gosetsu, but I'm honestly very very glad that they didn't go that route. It'd be much too convenient to erase that ugly, cruel part of her and instead have her run around as an oblivious character that's closer to that caricature of a subservient, pure girl. Erasing her suffering would have made her story pointless and taught no one anything ( NOT THAT HER STORY TAUGHT DOMA ANYTHING ANYWAY AS SHOWN IN THE EW JOB QUEST THX SQUARE for my own sanity this isn't my canon Doma ).

But yes... Yotsuyu's story is dear to my heart. It's tragic, it's ugly and it's real and that's what makes it worth telling. And I'm really happy that there are people out there like you that also love her and I really appreciate this message…. ilu......

[srmthfgrimworld]

Game 1: Day 1 & 2

Day 1

A thunderous crash shattered the stillness, reverberating through the air. Mandarin clawed his way out of the battered escape pod, only to be greeted by an inky darkness that swallowed everything in its grasp. Disoriented and unable to discern his surroundings, he struggled to rise to his feet, grappling with a void that had consumed his memories. What happened?

As his eyes strained against the gloom, a pair of ethereal eyes materialized before him, gleaming with an otherworldly glow. The creature, stealthy and mysterious, slinked away into the shadows, leaving Mandarin to question its nature and purpose.

With the break of dawn, the world unfolded before him, revealing a desolate landscape stretching as far as the eye could see. Fields and hills sprawled in every direction, devoid of any signs of civilization. His escape pod had landed perilously close to the river, a brush with a watery demise narrowly averted. Desperate to contact his companions, Mandarin's attempts were met only with the crackling static of a disconnected transmission.

The chilly air prickled his fur, urging him to take action. He realized he had to establish a makeshift base, a refuge against the unknown. But survival skills were never his forte, the days of training long past. Each swing of his makeshift axe felt clumsy, as he tried to gather berries and apples from the surrounding foliage. Nightfall descended, finding Mandarin still struggling to complete the walls of his shelter. He settled for a meager meal of berries, huddled close to a crackling campfire, yet his repeated attempts to reach the monkey team yielded only silence.

Lying on the cold, unforgiving ground, Mandarin could only hope for the arrival of his comrades with the dawn's light, their presence bringing warmth and solace to his desolate existence.

Day 2

Mandarin awoke, his hunger satisfied by a handful of apples. 

He stepped out of his modest refuge, scanning the sky for any signs of his team. But the vast expanse offered no reassurance, no flicker of familiar faces. Instead, an unexpected sight greeted him—a mischievous group of sheep, drawn to his makeshift base. He shooed them away, but their curious nature led them back to him time and time again. Frustration mingled with amusement as he struggled to fend off these persistent, woolly visitors.

As Mandarin's axe swung through the air, cleaving another tree trunk to gather firewood, an inexplicable darkness enveloped the sky. The panicked bleating of the sheep echoed through the air, lending an air of unease to the moment. In that instant, he realized—an eclipse was unfolding, shrouding the land in temporary obscurity. The realization dawned upon him that this phenomenon might be a regular feature of this unfamiliar world, leaving him to ponder the frequency of such celestial events.

Armed with the gathered wood, Mandarin returned to his base, determined to complete its construction. With a sense of accomplishment, he fashioned the remaining walls and erected a sturdy roof, fortifying his temporary refuge against the unknown.

Seated by the crackling campfire, he made yet another attempt to establish contact with the monkey team. The radio waves carried his hopes, but alas, there was only a deafening silence on the other end. Doubt began to gnaw at him. Were they even searching for him? Yet, the enigma of his fragmented memory clouded his judgment. He couldn't remember what had transpired before the crash, further complicating his quest for answers.

Driven by curiosity, he turned his attention to the escape pod, searching for any traces or clues. Burn marks marred its surface, evidence of the turbulent descent through the planet's atmosphere. Mandarin meticulously inspected every nook and cranny, hoping for a clue to unravel the mystery. However, his efforts yielded nothing, leaving him disheartened and longing for answers that seemed perpetually out of reach.

With a heavy heart, he resigned himself to another night spent in solitude.

[crossover-enthusiast]

Remember when Bruno Mars descended from the sky and sent us on an RPG quest after giving a monologue?/j

HAH

[djzibaz]

Channel Z, Ep.131, LIVE!

Khruangbin - Hold Me Up (Thank You) (new) Khruangbin - May Ninth (new) Iron & Wine - All in Good Time (new) Shannon & the Clams - UFO (new) Sunny Day Real Estate - 8 Rainer Maria - Automatic ADULT. - Hand to Phone (cordless remix) Braid - What a Wonderful Puddle --------------------- Stephen Malkmus & The Jicks - Real Emotional Trash Blonde Redhead - Down Under Elliott Smith - Rose Parade (radio edit) Grover - What Do I Do When I'm Alone? ---------------------- Polo - Es Natural Erase Errata - Driving Test/Ca. Viewing Cat Power - Free Stephen Malkmus - Church on White ----------------------- Braid - This is the Chandelier Swing Pinback - Crutch (live) Ladytron - Tender Talons Mister Rogers - It's Such a Good Feeling Har Mar Superstar - Body Request Mount Sims Shadisco Mix

-------------------------------

Postal Service - Sleeping In Totally Radd!!! - Vision Quest Cerrero con el ´león' pardo - Canción para un amigo Shajarian (Mohammad Reza)- Golhaye Tazeh No.31 Mahour ---------------------- Les Savy Fav - The Sweat Descends

[fadingalibis]

The Notorious Michel Fourniret: Unraveling the Dark Path of a Serial Killer

Michel Fourniret, a name that sends chills down the spine, was born into a tumultuous world in the heart of France. His early life, shrouded in mystery and darkness, provides a glimpse into the complexities that shaped the mind of a notorious serial killer.

French self-confessed serial killer Michel Fourniret in Reze, France, March 15, 2006. © Fred Dufour, AFP

Early Life and Upbringing

Fourniret's childhood was marked by instability and upheaval. Born on April 4, 1942, in Sedan, France, he was raised in an environment rife with familial discord. His family background, marred by dysfunction and turmoil, sowed the seeds of anguish within his young heart. The haunting echoes of his tumultuous upbringing would later reverberate through the annals of criminal history.

The bleak backdrop of his early years, coupled with the absence of a nurturing environment, cast a long, dark shadow over Fourniret's formative years. The absence of stability and love, essential for a child's emotional development, laid the foundation for the sinister path he would ultimately tread.

Ventures into Criminal Activities

Fourniret's immersion into the realm of criminal activities unfolded against the canvas of his troubled past. The murky alleys of his mind harbored motivations borne of deep-seated anguish and a craving for dominance. His initial forays into criminality marked the inception of a harrowing journey that would culminate in a trail of unspeakable atrocities.

The convergence of internal turmoil and external circumstances propelled Fourniret into a world where the boundaries between right and wrong blurred into obscurity. The allure of control and power beckoned to him, setting in motion a sequence of events that would plunge countless lives into darkness.

Convicted Crimes and Victims' Stories

Fourniret's reign of terror culminated in a series of heinous crimes that shattered the tranquility of communities and scarred the fabric of society. His convictions, each a testament to the depths of human depravity, stand as grim milestones in the annals of criminal history.

The victims, each a precious soul with dreams and aspirations, fell prey to Fourniret's malevolence. Their stories, etched in the tears of their loved ones, serve as poignant reminders of the unfathomable loss inflicted by this remorseless predator. The haunting specter of their untimely demise echoes through the corridors of time, imploring us to remember their lives beyond the darkness that engulfed them.

Investigation and Capture

The pursuit of justice for Fourniret's victims bore witness to a relentless quest for truth in the face of daunting challenges. Law enforcement, undeterred by the labyrinthine nature of the investigation, persevered in their pursuit of the elusive specter that haunted the collective consciousness.

Breakthroughs, akin to shards of light piercing through an impenetrable shroud, illuminated the path to Fourniret's eventual capture. The tireless efforts of investigators, fraught with adversity and uncertainty, underscored the unwavering commitment to deliver justice to the victims and their grieving families.

Potential Involvement in Other Crimes

The enigmatic shadow cast by Fourniret's malevolence raises profound questions regarding the extent of his transgressions. Speculations surrounding his potential involvement in other crimes, not yet brought to justice, linger in the periphery of societal consciousness. The tendrils of evidence and theories, woven into a tapestry of uncertainty, beckon us to confront the possibility of a legacy of darkness far more expansive than previously perceived.

Conclusion

Michel Fourniret, a name etched in infamy, serves as a stark reminder of the depths to which human darkness can descend. His early life, fraught with turmoil, offers a glimpse into the complex interplay of nature and nurture that shapes the human psyche. The crimes for which he has been convicted, and the lives he callously extinguished, stand as testaments to the enduring impact of his malevolence.

The investigation and pursuit of justice, though fraught with challenges, exemplify the unwavering commitment to confront evil and deliver solace to the hearts shattered by Fourniret's atrocities. As we confront the possibility of his involvement in additional crimes, we are reminded of the profound responsibility to honor the memories of all those who fell victim to his darkness.

In the twilight of Fourniret's legacy, the stories of his victims, their lives, dreams, and the profound void left in their wake, beckon us to remember the enduring light that transcends even the darkest of shadows.