#and all of them have their strengths and weaknesses

[submissivegayfrenchboy2]

11 / 11 / 2024

PERSONAL FICTIVE STORY

- GREG'S POOPS -

Handsome high school student Greg had a weak stomach, which was his only weakness. This tall, blond athlete was the king of the school, quite simply because he was the most muscular. Everyone was afraid of him. Well, the nerds and the losers, yes, because the other sporty guys were his friends. In addition to a loser who did his homework in all subjects (each of Greg's friends had a homework slave per subject), Greg also had bag carriers who had to wait for him at his yard with his stuff ready. What is certain is that the nerds live under the dictatorship of Greg, the sadistic bully.

Yes, every day, after lunch, a loser is "fed". He gives Greg his share of meals to help him gain extra strength, and in exchange Greg feeds the losers by forcing them to eat his shit. Each month, a calendar, prepared by a loser gifted in organization, is sent to each loser in high school so that they know what day and what time they will have to go eat Greg's shit. While Greg eats with his friends in the high school cafeteria, surrounded by losers who serve them, a nerd has to wait for his "meal".

Today it was Mark's turn, a typical nerd with glasses. He did not go to the cafeteria but waited in a bathroom stall.

Two friends of Greg, the king of high school, were waiting for him. They led him into the bathroom stall where Greg would come to shit later. He was forced to kneel in front of the bowl, waiting before eating.

Several minutes later, Greg came in to shit. His two friends were able to go to the cafeteria to eat, while two other friends guarded the bathroom doors, preventing anyone from coming to piss or shit while Greg was there. He paid little attention to the loser who was waiting headlong. Greg pulled down his pants, farted several times in the loser's face, which made him laugh, and sat down before starting to push to make his poop fall out.

At one point Greg was having so much trouble pushing to get his shit down that he leaned on the face of the nerd in front of him. The nerd tried not to think about the fact that Greg had just scratched his balls and ass, and that his face and hair would retain that smell: being touched by Greg was considered an honor for nerds, it was forbidden for them to clean their face if Greg had spit, burped or farted in their face. All of these victims lived in constant fear that this large, muscular, violent straight white male would strike them.

The toilet faggot would sometimes hold Greg's phone so he could watch a video while shitting or masturbating a little. Sometimes the loser had to read to Greg to distract him, sing a song to relax him (a song glorifying his praises), and if the faggot was cute, suck Greg's cock while he shit.

When Greg was done shitting, he turned his big, round, muscular ass towards Mark's face: the asshole was still shitty, and in any case Mark had to clean Greg's asshole with his tongue. Mark prayed that the same thing wouldn't happen to Stan two weeks ago.

Stan had been "fed" too, but had probably gotten shit in his face when Greg turned his ass towards him, and farted in his face. Stan then spent the rest of the day with shit in his face, provoking ridicule from his comrades. Not allowed to wash himself if he wanted to avoid being hit by Greg and/or his friends, Stan had chosen to smear the shit on his face and in his hair, making the teachers believe that he had received dirt in the face.

Since Stan, nerds have been dreading Greg's ass licking moment. Mark licked around the anus quickly to avoid an impatient Greg from pushing his face into his big shitty ass to wipe himself on it, which would have resulted in Mark's face being covered in shit. The speed of Mark's licking was interpreted by Greg as a sign of enthusiasm, while Mark only wanted to be quick to get it over with as quickly as possible.

Then, on his bully's command, Mark stuck his tongue into Greg's anus to make sure his stinky hole was clean. Once Greg's ass crack was cleaned, Mark was forced to thank Greg for "his meal." Mark looked at his "meal", and turned to Greg smiling and said "Hmmm Your poops are so huge, Mr. Greg! I've never seen them this big! That's a real man's shit ! They look delicious, the color is brighting ! The smell is appetizing! Thank you very much for this good, nourishing meal, mister Greg !”. Mark didn't think a word of it, but the more cheating a faggot, the less violent Greg was.

Greg dropped drops of piss on Mark's hair and a little in his mouth. So he went out and his friends stayed to watch the toilets. They would leave when they had proof that Mark had eaten everything. Indeed, Greg shit in a paper plate placed just above the water in the bowl, so that the nerds would eat "pure" droppings, that is to say those which were not mixed with the bowl's water.

The plate, once the droppings had been swallowed, had to be completely white at the end of the “meal”. One of Greg's two friends was guarding the bathroom door and another was watching the faggot. Added to the disgust at the smell and taste of Greg's enormous droppings was the pressure of speed, because Greg's friends were merciless. They shouted insults at the fags, kicked them in the butt to see them suffer or gave them the number of minutes they had left.

"I don't just have to watch over a faggot's lunch! Eat your lunch faster, fag ! Come on, this delicious shit doesn't have to be so difficult to eat! Why are you crying? Your god Greg gave fed you, he is generous and could have let your starve!” : these are the kind of sentences the fags heard while they swallowed the long, thick stinking turds of the king of high school.

In short, eating Greg's huge droppings was far from being a moment of joy for losers. None of them wanted to eat all day, the droppings were so long and thick.

In short, eating Greg's huge droppings was far from being a moment of joy for losers. None of them wanted to eat all day, the droppings were so long and thick. It felt like I had eaten an entire chocolate cake, but it tasted terrible. If some fags experienced these moments as torture and cried, others understood that Greg and his friends would stop humiliating them if they pretended to feel pleasure from eating his shit. Indeed, Greg did not want to feed them his droppings for their pleasure.

Thus, we saw fags begging Greg on their knees, alone or in groups, to be able to eat his shit. This made Greg and his friends laugh, but they ignored the fags, who at least avoided being hit by this already very muscular man for his young age, or by him and his friends at the same time. All the other queers prayed they wouldn't end up at the same university as Greg and his friends.

END OF STORY

.................................................................................

HISTOIRE FICTIVE PERSONNELLE

- LES CROTTES DE GREG -

Le beau lycéen Greg avait un estomac fragile, ce qui était son seul défaut. Ce grand sportif blond était le roi de l'école, tout simplement car il était le plus musclé. Tout le monde avait peur de lui. Enfin, les intellos et les losers, oui, car les autres mecs sportifs étaient ses amis. Ce qui est sûr, c'est que les intellos vivent sous la dictature de Greg, qui fait partie d'eux.

Oui, chaque jour, après le déjeuner, un loser est "nourri". Il donne sa part de repas à Greg afin de lui permettre de prendre des forces supplémentaires, et en échange Greg nourrit les losers en les obligeant à manger sa merde. Chaque mois, un calendrier, préparé par un loser doué en organisation, est transmis à chaque loser du lycée pour qu'il sache à quel jour et quelle heure il devra aller manger la merde de Greg. Pendant que Greg mange avec ses amis à la cafétéria du lycée, entouré de losers qui les servent, un intello doit attendre son "repas".

Aujourd'hui, c'était le tour de Mark, un intello à lunettes. Il ne s'est pas rendu à la cafétéria mais a été attendre dans une cabine de toilettes. Deux amis de Greg, le roi du lycée, l'attendaient. Ils l'ont conduit dans la cabine de toilettes où Greg viendrait chier tout à l'heure. Il a été obligé de s'agenouiller face à la cuvette, patientant avant de manger. Plusieurs minutes plus tard, Greg est arrivé pour chier. Ses deux amis ont pu aller à la cafétéria pour manger, tandis que deux autres amis gardaient les portes des toilettes, empêchant quiconque de venir pisser ou chier tant que Greg y était. Celui-ci n'accorda que peu d'attention au loser qui attandait tête baissée.

Greg a baissé son pantalon, a pété plusieurs fois de suite sur le visage du loser, ce qui le fit rire, et s'est assis avant commencer à pousser pour faire tomber ses crottes. À un moment, il avait tellement de mal à pousser pour faire tomber sa merde qu'il s'est appuyé sur le visage du nerd en face de lui. Le nerd essaya de ne pas penser au fait que Greg venait de se gratter les couilles et le cul, et que son visage et ses cheveux allaient conserver cette odeur : être touché par Greg était considéré comme un honneur pour les nerds, il leur était interdit de se nettoyer le visage si Greg leur avait craché, roter ou péter au visage.

Toutes ces victimes vivaient dans la peur constante que ce grand mâle blanc hétérosexuel musclé et violent ne les frappe. En plus d'un loser qui faisait ses devoirs dans toutes les matières (chacun des amis de Greg disposait d'un esclave de devoirs par matière), Greg avait aussi des porteurs de sacs qui devaient l'attendre à son cour avec ses affaires prêtes.

Le pédé des toilettes pouvait parfois tenir le téléphone de Greg pour qu'il regarde une vidéo tout en chiant ou en se masturbant un peu. Parfois le loser devait faire la lecture à Greg pour le distraire, chanter une chanson pour le détendre (une chanson glorifiant ses louanges), et si le pédé était mignon, sucer la bite de Greg pendant qu'il chiait. Quand Greg eut fini de chier, il tourna son gros cul rond et musclé vers le visage de Mark : le trou du cul était encore merdeux, et dans tous les cas Mark devait nettoyer le trou du cul de Greg avec sa langue. Mark priait pour qu'il n'arrive pas la même chose qu'à Stan il y a deux semaines.

Stan avait été "nourri" lui aussi, mais avait vraisemblablement reçu de la merde au visage au moment où Greg avait tourné son cul vers lui, et lui avait pété au visage. Stan avait alors passé le reste de la journée avec de la merde au visage, provoquant les moqueries de ces camarades. N'ayant pas le droit de se laver s'il voulait éviter d'être frappé par Greg et/ou ses amis, Stan avait choisi d'étaler la merde sur son visage et dans ses cheveux, faisant croire aux professeurs qu'il avait reçu de la terre en plein visage. Depuis Stan, les nerds redoutaient le moment du léchage de cul de Greg.

Mark a léché le contour de l'anus rapidement afin d'éviter que Greg, impatient, n'enfonce son visage dans son gros cul merdeux pour s'essuyer dessus, ce qui aurait eu pour conséquence de recouvrir le visage de Mark de merde. La rapidité du léchage de Mark fut interprété par Greg comme une marque d'enthousiasme, alors que Mark voulait être rapide pour en finir au plus vite. Puis, sur ordre de Greg, il mit sa langue dans l'anus de Greg afin de s'assurer que son trou puant soit propre.

Une fois la raie du cul de Greg nettoyée, Mark a été obligé de remercier Greg pour "son repas". Mark a regarde son "repas", et s'est retourné vers Greg en souriant et dit "Hummm Vos crottes sont tellement énormes, monsieur Greg ! Je n'en ai jamais vu des aussi grosses ! Ce sont celles d'un vrai homme, c'est sûr ! Elles ont l'air délicieuses, leur odeur est appétissante et leur couleur est brillante ! Merci beaucoup pour ce bon repas nourrissant, monsieur Greg !".

Mark n'en pensait pas un mot mais plus un pédé était faltteur et moins Greg était violent. Greg a laissé tomber des gouttes de pisse sur les cheveux de Mark et un peu dans sa bouche. Alors, Greg est sorti et ses amis sont restés surveiller les toilettes. Ils partiraient quand ils auraient la preuve que Mark avait tout mangé. En effet, Greg chiait dans une assiette en carton placé juste au-dessus de l'eau de la cuvette, afin que les nerds mangent des crottes "pures", c'est-à-dire qui ne soient pas mélangées à l'eau de la cuvette. L'assiette, une fois les crottes avalées, devait être entièrement blanche à la fin du "repas".

Un des deux amis de Greg gardait la porte des toilettes et un autre surveillait le pédé. Au dégoût suscité par l'odeur et le goût des énormes crottes de Greg s'ajoutait la pression de la rapidité, car les amis de Greg étaient impitoyables. Ils criaient aux pédés des insultes, leur donner des coups de pieds dans les fesses pour les voir souffrir ou alors leur donner le nombre de minutes qu'il leur restait. "Je n'ai pas que ça à faire de surveiller le repas d'un pédé ! Mange ton déjeuner plus vite ! Allez, cette bonne merde ne soit pas être si difficile à manger ! Pourquoi tu pleures ? Ton dieu Greg t'a donné à manger, il est généreux !" : voici le genre de phrases que les pédés entendaient pendant qu'ils avalaient les longues et épaisses crottes puantes du roi du lycée.

Bref, manger les immenses crottes de Greg était loin d'être un moment de joie pour les losers. Aucun d'eux n'avaient plus envie de manger de toute la journée, tellement les crottes étaient longues et épaisses. Cela donnait l'impression d'avoir mangé un gâteau au chocolat entier, mais avec un goût immonde. Si certains pédés vivaient ces moments comme de la torture et pleuraient, d'autres avaient compris que Greg et ses amis arrêteraient de les humilier s'ils faisaient semblant d'éprouver du plaisir à manger sa merde. En effet, Greg ne voulait pas les nourrir de ses crottes pour leur plaisir.

Ainsi, l'on vit des pédés suppliaient Greg à genoux, seul ou à plusieurs, de pouvoir manger sa merde. Cela faisait rire Greg et ses amis, mais ils ignoraient les pédés, qui au moins éviter d'être frappés par ces jeunes hommes déjà très musclés pour leur âge. Tous les autres pédés priaient pour ne pas se retrouver dans la même université que Greg et ses amis.

FIN DE L'HISTOIRE

[therenobee]

Tenets of Joy

The earth does not hate the rain when it feeds the soil. The leaf does not scowl at the sun for its nourishing rays. There is joy inherent to life, even in the most dire of times. One should not be blind to the true state of the world around them, but seek to bring out the smile of others in spite of pain or fear. Look for the joy in all things, but do not let it distract you from the suffering of others. For there is plenty of both to be found in the world. Seek not authority, but responsibility. Authority is a power the prideful use against the weak, but responsibility comes with awareness and true strength. No one is born or created into this world by their own hand, we all come into this world delicate. All who travel under the sun and the stars are equal, and that includes yourself. Know this and be humble. Doubt is not a personal failing. To be uncertain of your own path is to have the opportunity to reflect on your actions and adjust your way forward. Doubt is the shadow that wisdom casts. Drink plenty of water, stretch often and take naps when you need to.

[emilsendo]

Can you please make a muzan oneshot, smut with aftercare and muzan being alittle protective of m! Reader...

Thank you! <3

With pleasure I'll make this request! Take care💪🏼✨️👀

Also, I apologize for any errors in the text. I hope you will enjoy it.

_______________________________________

It was a day like any other, everyone looked the same. You, as a rank 0 higher moon demon, AND as the husband of the demon king, had a wide reputation among demons and humans alike. However, Muzan Kibutsuji didn't treat your strength like the others, he loved you too much to care if you were powerful enough. For him, you were and are his property, which he must protect against possible threats. Mainly rivals created by your handsome appearance. But who would dare to endanger the MUZAN himself? Probably just a real suicide.

Y/N was currently walking through the forest after mercilessly killing a man from the village he was passing by. As an Upper Moon demon, he must eat quite regularly in order for his strength to remain the same or even greater. Even if he sometimes has some signs of humanity in his heart, he still doesn't care much about this feeling. He had long since rid himself of the feeling of guilt in his soul, all in order to be able to kill more effectively and faster. He is about 600 years old, has adapted to living in the body of a creature and killing those who resist his actions. Y/N remembers almost nothing from his past, except for the feeling of weakness... his heart only remembers how he felt then, not what he was like and what his life was like, did he have a family? Did he have a wife and children? Was he someone important? Nothing. Emptiness.

While listening to the sounds of nature, he heard another sound, but of feet pattering behind him and then next to him. It was as if this person was fast enough to somehow teleport. Y/N looked at them, his c/e eyes meeting rainbow ones. It was none other than Doma, who no one likes because... he's the least bit annoying.

— Hello, Lord Y/N~! How is our handsome boy? — he asked with a practiced and false tone of joy, something that was probably the reason why no one liked him. Y/N remained unfazed by his presence, but he felt a certain irritation. Doma moved in on him far too many times, as if he wanted more than a punch to the jaw.

— How many times do I have to tell you to stop calling me that? Don't you have anything else to do? — he replied with a great show of dislike towards the demon next to him, looking at him out of the corner of his eye with his deadly gaze, which usually made every demon and human bend more than one knee. But not Doma, this type has too much of a disregard for other people's needs.

— Aww~ Ice cold as always, huh? I'm just trying to be nice to Muzan's lover~.... — he said. And his voice and facial expression were like a child who didn't get what he wanted.

—You'll be nice when you get out of here.— Y/N finally looking at the shorter man with his full perspective. However, instead of an answer, he received a kiss, which shocked him. He automatically pushed him away and punched him in the jaw hard enough to tear off half his face, staining his hands with blood. Doma looked at him with a strange look, maybe if his face was intact it would look better... The man smiled slyly as if he was proud of what he had done, lightly touching his newly regenerated jaw.

Muzan won't be happy with the fact that his "property" has been touched and Y/N knows it, which is why he felt a slight twinge in his stomach from the stress. Because he'll get hurt too.

—Who the fuck are you? — a deep and loud voice asked, while the sounds of limbs and bones being torn to shreds echoed throughout the room. The muzzled hand was tearing apart Doma's body, and Doma was not reacting much to any of these harms. The brunette's blood-red eyes scanned the demon in front of him, who was kneeling.

—How dare you disregard my order? How dare you TOUCH something that belongs to me? — he grabbed the blonde by the forehead, his claw drilling a hole in the skull. He then caused his cells to slowly melt Doma's body.

Upper Rank 2 began bleeding from the inside, choking on a red substance. Pulsating, almost purple veins appeared on his skin.

—I should kill you....But you are a useful demon because of your loyalty. However, one more move like that... and I will personally expose you to the sun.— Muzan threatened, letting his brother go free.

—Muzan....I'm sorry, honey. I had no way to react to protect myself from Doma's kiss... I didn't expect it. - you whispered, your voice sounding completely different because of the way the veins that carry Muzan's blood tightened around your weave. You were in a kneeling position in front of your husband, who was sitting on a chair, his chin resting on his hand and his eyes down on your apologetic form. He had you like this for a while now, letting his anger out on you.

—.....— Muzan closed his eyes and then stopped controlling his cells, letting you breathe. His gaze moved to the side, ignoring you. You could see from a mile away that he was still pissed at you.

The moment you gained access to breathing again, you gasped. Coughing heavily from the dryness in my throat and the lack of oxygen. But you didn't have time to feel sorry for yourself, you had to console Muzan somehow, before he will kill useful demons.

You stepped closer to Muzan, resting your head on his knee.

—I love you, you know?— you said, knowing that this sentence would calm Muzan down instantly. The man finally looked at you, his gaze still as cold as ice. But his eyes became less wild, clear evidence that he had calmed down. His hand gently grabbed your chin, stroking it lightly with his thumb.

— I know. I love you too, you're like a toxin that makes me sick. But it is also very....addictive.— Muzan pulls your body up by your hand, he also stood up. Making you both switch positions, where this time you are sitting and he is kneeling.

— However, I want you to make me realize this by fucking me.— he said with a smirk. His tone was seductive and his eyes were filled with lust and horniness. Your member twitch at that sight, you couldn't resist your husband's "request", when it was clearly what you desired too deep down. Before you answered, Muzan already was working your pants off, he rip them off to be honest. Exposing your big and hard length that he loves so much, his tongue licks his lower lip, getting ready to the delicious taste he will have on it by a few seconds.

He opens his lips wide, already trying to deepthroat your dick with his tight canal. Making you hiss from pleasure and tighten your grip on the chair, claws digging into the wooden furniture. Your King sucks every good spots, pulling away for a while to spit on your cock to make it more wet. His tongue lick your tip, kissing it passionately as if making out with it, before going back down to your shaft. Licking up and down, massaging your balls and squeezing them from time to time. Making your head be on cloud 9 and resisting the urge to fuck your husband's throat. He wets your cock so good that it made such a sloppy sounds that made Muzan's mind go crazy, he only wants you to rile him like the last whore and then shower with affection. That's why he grabbed roughly your wrist and put it on his head, signaling you to control his movements.

You didn't waste any time in making him choke and gag all over your large cock, you could feel his nails pressing into your skin on thighs from pleasure and the feeling of your rough treatment. The feeling of a colossal hand gripping his hair, that clearly belong to you made his own dick almost cream his pants from excitement. And when you finally came in his mouth, he swallowed it eagerly like a treasure. His lips all red and swollen from sucking and having his mouth filled with something so thick.

— Take my clothes off. Now.— he damanded, but his voice sounds so needy and almost desperate. While he tried to mask it by cleaning your dick off from the rest of cum. You pull him on your lap with one move of your arm, making him gasp a bit. Before you took off his whole clothes, your gaze fixed on his expression that showed a pure lust. Muzan's mouth instinctively wrap itself around your fingers, wetting them as if he knows by the look on your face what you want him to do.

— Good slut.— you said with a smirk and satisfaction, even if your husband doesn't seem to like this nickname. (He feels butterflies in his stomach but his mind refuse to accept it)

— I am NOT a slut.— he said with serious tone, sounding a bit stern.

— Then I'll have to prove you wrong. Cause sluts like you can take cocks like mine without preparation.— You said, making Muzan look at you in confusion and he understood in a second what you meant.

— Oi, no!— he tried to protest in panic, his eyes widen, a loud scream from pleasure and pain left his mouth as you slam your cock inside him with one, smooth move. You groan at the tightness around your cock, it almost felt like it's sucking you inside.

— Don't cry, honey... I know you like it. Good slut-husbands like you are experts in satisfing your beloved.— you whisper in his ear, wiping his tears off from his cheeks. You looked at his expression that was a mix of pleasure and pain, his teeth clenched from the feeling of you deep inside him, touching his prostate with the tip of your cock.

Muzan was quiet for a few seconds, before he chuckles from esctasy and his red eyes fixed on you. He tighten his gummy like walls around your member to tease you and motivate you into fucking him.

— Of course.....I'll take care of your crotch like a good husband slut.— Muzan's lips kissed your face, starting with you forehead and ending at your lips. He really do love you for agreeing for you to call him this way....

Next thing he knows was you making him bounce like a desperate bunny on your dick, making sloppy sounds from going in and out of his entrance. The sounds of his loud moaning, mewling and your grunts and groans spread all over his office. Muzan's hair were messy and wet from sweat. His eyes unfocused. His sharp nails digging intl your shoulders. His legs shaking. His walls clenched and unclenched from pleasure and overstimulation. You hit his prostate over and over again, making him wanna cry to heavens.... or to hell.

Suddenly, you stand up with him in your arms, surprising him a bit as he got placed on his desk with legs spread. His back met the surface of the wooden furniture, he pants like a dog as he watched you put his legs on your shoulders, making your balls made a contact with his ass. He whimpers from that feeling.

— Fuck me.....Fuck your slutty husband.....fill me with your hiers and have the satisfaction of owning the King of demons~— Muzan said with a smirk, chest going up and down from breathing hard. That words went straight to your cock, twitching inside your lover. Your gaze like a predator, as you move oncr again. Hips snapping back and forth hard and deep, as if you were seriously trying to make him pregnant or break. He grip onto the edges of his desk, almost destroying it with his demonic strength. The pre-cum made it easier for you to go in and out of his warm and wet ass. His entrance sucked you greedy in, as if not planning for you to leave it.

— Such a good slut for me, huh? Your tiny hole seems not to want me to let go.— you said between moans, rubbing his pale waist in your hands.

— Uh-huh.....Haah...haaah...haaah...Not let go....haah...HAAH....HAAHH...— he said dumbly, without thinking twice before saying it. Feeling stupid from esctasy.

Hours passed, it was already morning and you two only just done having sex. You slip your cock out of his hole, making the cum drip from Muzan's ass. You looked at your dear husband that you spent your whole life as a demon. Admiring his appearance that looked so messy. It's kinda sad that the marks you left regenerate faster than you blink...But you still felt satisfaction, because you owned THE Muzan Kibutsuji.

— Very well, Y/N......you kept me satisfy.— Kibutsuji said, his voice breathless but his gaze intense. He pulls you towards him with strong grip, making you lay on top of his body. Rubbing your back and head with his hand.

— But you have to make me a bath with rose petals.— he demand, looking down at you with a smile. You snuggle against his chest, squeezing his nipples between your fingers. Making him glare at you.

— Control yourself. I want bath.—

— Hehehe....— you laughed nervously.

[biancadoes1]

So I recently re-listened to the Still Watching by Vanity Fair podcast episode titled Bridgerton Season 3 Part 2: Three’s Company that Luke Newton was interviewed on (highly recommend people check it out if they haven’t his interview is so good!) and I am just blown away by how fucking kind and sensitive Luke is. Like of course he’s human and flawed as no one’s perfect but like in that interview he’s constantly complimenting not only Nicola but also Jonathan Bailey and Simone for how graciously they led the show in season 2 and he admired them and the previous leads as well. And how thoughtful he is in his portrayal of Colin and how he loves the character for his kindness and sensitivity. He also touches on masculinity and how Colin had a twisted idea of what being a man is because of his Dad’s death and how Anthony dealt with running the household and how this season was his journey with his relationship with Penelope and how she helps him unlearn that and accepting he is enough and how he is is strength not a weakness. And he compliments Jess as Cressida and Claudia and he’s so sweet and you just can really tell he really does respect women like Nicola says. He talks a lot about intimacy scenes and consent and tenderness being so so sexy. And I just I can really feel Nicolas assessment of him being just a really good dude who respects women and is so kind. He literally talks about the privilege to act alongside Nicola. All that to say I really do think all the SM hate he hit was so unfair and I absolutely understand why Nicola ran to defend him. It also highlights how ridiculous the narrative of them beefing on social media is. Like obviously all people have fights regardless of friendship or romance but these two have such respect and admiration for one another they def aren’t gonna shade each other on social media for the world to scrutinize. Even their tension in Italy you still saw later that day in the photoshoots how happy and giggly they still were with one another so they clearly got past or worked through it together. Also in the interview he talked AGAIN about how much he enjoys playing in love Colin and how he really looks forward to Season 4 to be able to have that vibe and be even more rom com with Nicola. I just hope he does know that’s it not the majority of the fans and he deserves good things.

We stan Luke Newton around here.

If you don’t………idk why you’re here lol

[nepenthendline]

matching couple things

a/n: what matching couple items your fave loves the most

includes: midoriya, bakugo, kirishima, todokori, kaminari, shinsou, iida, hawks, aizawa

Midoryia - this man has matching everything with you. Within like a week of being together, he got you two matching phone charms, matching phone wallpapers, matching all might merch, matching sweaters etc, but his favourite thing is your matching bracelets that have a charm of each other's initial

Bakugo - if you suggest or buy him anything matching he will grumble about it, saying its stupid, and yet every time you see him he's wearing your matching necklace that has 'I love you' engraved in the pendant. He'll deny it, but sometimes you catch him kissing it

Kirishima - another man who will willingly match anything with you (it's so manly to match with your partner!!), he adores your matching sweaters though, mainly because you look so adorable and also because it's incredibly obvious

Todoroki - you said you wanted to have a matching couple thing, and he's a bit confused at first, but he thinks it's adorable. The only thing he's ever seen couples match before is rings, so he buys you two just that - one has a red gem, and one has a white gem to represent his two halves, he likes to think it's him giving you half of himself

Kaminari - he's the one begging you to match with him fr, he LOVES when you wear each other's hero merch, especially when you're together and in public, you can guarantee his entire closet is just your merch (and some red riot merch oops)

Iida - he's a little new to the concept of wanting to have matching couple items, however when you explain the idea, he's on board. He came home a few days later with matching hero support items since they're functional and tie you together - not what you were thinking, but it's so adorable anyway. You also have a bunch of matching stationary

Shinsou - he is WEAK for matching things, although you'll have to start it off because he's too nervous to tell you that, he's another man for matching rings, and it's truly his prized possession, he loves being able to look down at his hands and be reminded of you (and also because it keeps other guys away from you), also you have a bunch of matching plushies

Hawks - endeavour thongs he really likes jewellery, so it was only natural for you to get matching necklaces that have 2 little pendants - one of a feather and one of each other's birth stone, when he's away from you on hero work, he's always holding the pendants in his hand whenever he misses you or he needs some strength, it grounds him to have something physical he can touch that brings him back to you

Aizawa - matching mugs with pictures of each other on. Mic bought them for you as a joke for your anniversary and, yet, it's his go-to mug ever since. He says it's because it's big and sturdy, but it keeps him going through he day getting to see your smile whenever he needs it

[brittscafe]

𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐀 𝐏𝐫𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐫

Synopsis: During TYBW Cour 3, Grimmjow comes to your rescue when Jugram, Lille Barro, Gerard Valkyrie, Askin battle against you and Orihime, Chad, and Ganju.

A/n: Hiii!! I got inspired when I saw Grimmjow return in cour 3 and I realized how much I missed him 😩

A grunt escapes your dry, cracked lips as you collapse onto your knees. Jugram is towering over you, long blonde hair gently flowing in the wind.

Your eyes glance around at your friends scattered on the ground, Chad, Orihime, and Ganju. Faces scrunched with pain and bodies curled up, enemies standing over them with a proud smile on their faces.

Jugram glances down at you, eyes cold and dark as he reaches out.

Jugram's rough fingertips grab onto your jaw and lift up your head, your eyes meeting his.

"Did you really think you had a chance against me? A soul reaper against a Quincy?!" he speaks through gritted teeth, like it's even an insult to think that you ever had a chance against him.

You're panting heavily, chest pounding as you struggle to find the words. Your shaking fingers are still wrapped around your sword that's on the ground.

Your body is rattled, bruised, and beyond exhausted. Your throat is so dry you can feel it squeezing together and screaming for a drop of water.

You glare up into his Jugram's eyes, your nostrils flaring and face scrunching up.

You aren't one to give up, especially not to a Quincy. In one swift motion, with all the strength you have left, you swing your sword at Jugram.

He swiftly moves, sword colliding with yours, blocking your attack.

Sweat runs down your cheek as Jugram slowly pushes all his weight down onto his sword, slowly pushing both of the swords closer to you.

Suddenly Jugram pulls his sword away then slams it against yours. A gasp leaves your lips as the force from the swing is so strong, it knocks the sword from your fingertips.

Your sword clatters on the ground, mere millimeters away from your fingertips.

"Asshole," you murmur underneath your breath, eyes flashing over to your sword, too far away, then back at Jugram. He holds his sword point at your throat and you inhale through your gritted teeth.

"Any finally words...y/n?" Jugram asks you, daggers inside of his eyes.

Your nostrils flare with anger and Jugram presses his foot onto your chest, holding you down. You squirm against his weight as the sword grows closer to your throat.

You squeeze your eyes shut as your body shuts down. Your body is just too weak for you to defend yourself, so you must prepare yourself for the end...

"Hey...get your hands off her."

That voice...it's like a growl. A deep possessive growl that comes from somebody who loves you deeply.

You snap your eyelids open and glance behind Jugram. Your eyes can't believe what they are seeing, but boy, does he stand there ever so clearly.

Grimmjow's chuckle rings throughout the air and a few strands of his electric blue hair hang down in front of his forehead. His sword on his side. The sight of him makes your stomach churns.

He looks so feral.

Are those...skinny jeans?

You have to hold yourself back from laughing. Jugram gazes over at his shoulder at Grimmjow, letting down his guard. You reach out, fingertips wrapping around your sword and you swing it.

Jugram leaps out of the way and lands on his feet, feet away from you. Grimmjow appears by your side, grabbing you by your arm and lifting you off your feet.

He throws you over his shoulder and you gasp, opening your mouth to protest as Grimmjow takes off with you.

"Grimmjow...you left Orihime, Ganju, and Chad behind!" you scoff out, glancing back at your friends left back. Grimmjow rolls his eyes with annoyance and huffs out.

"Whatever, Kurosaki's got them. No need to worry and give yourself a heart attack, woman," Grimmjow speaks sternly, giving you a light pat on your butt.

Your cheeks heat up and you scoff in defeat. Grimmjow leaps through the air, finally landing on a platform way below the Royal Palace.

Grimmjow gently sets you back down on your feet and you wipe the debris off your uniform.

"Now...what the hell were you thinking?" Grimmjow bites out, eyebrows furrowing.

"Well, I do prefer for the Soul Society to not fall apart in crumbles and have the Qunicies take over," you shake your head with confusion.

"You're stupid. So stupid, you could've gotten killed!" Grimmjow raises his voice. Although, his face has mad written all over it, it's very clear that he's worried about you.

Concern laced in his voice as he stares at you, nostrils flaring. You step closer to him and place your hand on his cheek. His eyes instantly soften and his facial expression drops.

"Are you worried about me, Grimmjow?" you speak softly and he lets out a heavy breath.

"I know you can take care of yourself, y/n," he replies as your thumb caresses his soft skin.

"You came to help us, didn't you?" you ask, a tiny smile forming along your face. Grimmjow peels his eyes away from you and scoffs, face grimacing with disgust.

"Please, just you. You know how I feel about those Soul Reapers," he comments, gazing back at you. He gazes at your soft smile, so precious to him.

Grimmjow suddenly wraps his arms around you, letting his head fall onto your shoulder. He buries his face into your neck and you can feel his warm breath on your neck.

"I love you," he mumbles into your skin. You giggle at his words, moving your hand up your back and gathering his hair into your fingers.

You swear you hear Grimmjow purr as your fingers massage his scalp. His arms are wrapped around your waist ever so tightly, pressing your body against his.

Grimmjow's heart is a steady beat in your arms. He pulls his face up from your neck and eagerly presses his lips against yours. His kiss is desperate and needy, but also passionate and rough.

You let out a tiny moan against his lips as his fingers dig into your flesh. Lips, colliding and molding together as one. Grimmjow loves the taste of your lips and how soft they are against yours.

He slowly pulls away from your lips, teeth tugging on your bottom one. His piercing blue eyes are naughty with the look inside of them as he gazes at you.

A sudden explosion goes off from above you, rocks and debris falling down onto the platform you're on. Grimmjow and you glance up above then back at each other.

"Yhwach..." you sigh out.

"Ok...let's go save your friends and the Soul Society," he comments with a smile on his face.

[randomwriteronline]

"Sweet little one, standing upright, to me you appear dressed in white. But your red nose, what wonders it does: shortens your life the longer it glows."

"A candle," Velika smiled.

"Correct." Mata Nui replied. Then, he offered another riddle: "Which part of the bird has never soared the skies but slithers instead upon the ground, and swims on the surface of the water without ever getting wet?"

"The shadow."

"Correct. Two parents have five daughters; each daughter has a brother, and each brother has five siblings. How many members compose this family?"

"Eight."

"Correct. A beast of long legs, of strength filled to the brim - yet no eyes adorn its head, its intelligence quite dim."

"Pinchers."

"Correct. Today is the third of seven days. In seven years, which of seven will today be?"

"The fourth."

"Correct. I am that which cannot be touched, but inhabits all living things; I am what kills them, burning quietly, and through their mouths the plume of my combustion shows in the cold."

"Oxygen."

"Correct. Through my long black neck breathes my red heart, hacking out smoke as warmth from me departs."

"A stove."

"Correct. She who fights the winds and waves from the bowels of the seas to maintain her treasure so far away, thin yet heavy, weak yet invincible: who is she?"

"The anchor."

"Correct. A ship rotted upon the shore: each plank that fell away was slowly replaced, until it was remade completely new. Yet from the rotten planks, preserved adeguately, a second ship was constructed in the image of the original. Which one then is the true ship?"

"Both and neither," Velika smiled. He tilted his head in his hand, amused. "You're really not good at this."

"An 'and' is not an answer." Mata Nui replied: "Please choose."

"It doesn't matter, does it?"

"A rethorical question is not an answer. Please choose."

"The one from preserved wood."

"I see. A crow, dying of thirst, struggled to get water from a deep vase lodged in a pebbled shore. In its desperation, it began piling rocks upon one another; and so it saved itself. How?"

"By piling them in the vase, forcing the water upward."

"Correct. Swells all around you, like a glove fitting; never shall it hold you, cold embrace fleeting."

"Fog."

"Correct. An unusual farmer plows through a barren snowy field, sowing black seeds in quick succession; what he reaps is just one fruit which feeds many over the years, and never wilts, but only lasts as long as it is not burnt or faded."

"The written word."

"Correct. It is one of the visages by which we can be recognized, odorless, colorless, impalpable - and yet it can reach us far away."

"The voice."

"Correct. It is what the rich lack and poor have plenty of, what the strong fear and the weak have power over, what the happy desire and the dead need."

"Nothing."

"Correct. What am I doing?"

"Stalling me."

Mata Nui smiled: "Correct."

Velika did not move.

"It's useless, you know," he said, grin frozen upon his fake Matoran face as it struggled to hide his true one: "You can't stop me from my goal with these little guessing games of yours."

"I was under the impression you quite enjoyed making riddles."

"I made you."

"You helped. It was admirable, indeed; but it was not your labor alone. You are not one for the practical sciences, after all."

"I made you. You are a soul, a thinking brain. I allowed you to be that."

"You, and others."

"Does the fine print matter?"

"Of course it does. You would wrongfully claim full ownership over the universe entrusted to me otherwise."

"I made them. They are sapient because I allowed them as much."

"And you wish to destroy them now, as they are past their use, and for them to comply and go quietly to you, without making a mess, as otherwise it would be quite the inconvenience."

"Of course."

"Fathers owe their children as much as their children owe them."

"They're not my children," Velika laughed loudly as if that was the most hilarious thing he'd ever heard: "They are a successfully completed experiment! Archived and finished! I can't leave the mess of my previous project all over my desk if I want to start a new one, don't you think?"

Mata Nui did not move.

"You are awfully cruel in your insatiable curiosity." he noted simply. "Indeed, you are Teridax's father."

"I told you I don't have children."

"But we were your successors, were we not? A lonely god on a mindnumbingly long journey, one scientist in a team with delusions of grandeur."

"You are things I made. Things I gave awareness to. Nothing more."

"Nothing more?"

"Nothing more."

"Is this also your opinion of the universe within me?"

"Of course."

"Then you have no claim on us."

Velika raised his head from his palm and laughed. He laughed again, spitting out phonemes without a rhythm. He forced himself to laugh, because otherwise the confused wrath within him would have needed to explode in some other way.

"Pardon?"

"It brings a riddle to mind."

"I don't want a riddle. What did you just say?"

"Again, I was under the impression that you enjoyed posing riddles. At inopportune times most of all."

"Cut it. What did you say?"

"A woman bore her daughter, and decided it was not her duty to care for her: she still observed her growth over the years for sake of a morbid fancy, never intervening nor gaining any affection for her. At last the daughter found great happiness and fortune; and so her mother came, and demanded a part of her riches as compensation for giving birth to her. Was she right in requesting as much?"

"I said I don't want a riddle!"

"That is not an answer. Please choose."

"Quit that! What did you say to me?"

"That is not an answer. Please choose."

"You insulted me, is that it? You insulted me?"

"That is not an answer. Please choose."

"Shut up!"

"That is not an answer. Please choose."

"Fine! Fine, you broken piece of junk, fine. Repeat it, I didn't listen."

"A woman bore her daughter, and decided it was not her duty to care for her: she still observed her growth over the years for sake of a morbid fancy, never intervening nor gaining any affection for her. At last the daughter found great happiness and fortune; and so her mother came, and demanded a part of her riches as compensation for giving birth to her. Was she right in requesting as much?"

"No, she denied custody and has no say over her nor her belongings."

"Correct."

"So? What did you say?"

"I said the exact thing you repeated with your answer." Mata Nui replied. "You have shirked your responsability towards us, and you have no right to decide of our fate."

"You are things," Velika hissed: "Things are made!"

"We are people. People are made, too."

"People are born! They are thinking creatures!"

"Are we not, then?"

"No! You are things that I have given sapience to! You owe me life! Obedience! You owe me everything you are!"

"Are we then yours?"

"Yes!"

"By what virtue?"

"By virtue of creation!"

"By virtue of birth." Mata Nui repeated. "A virtue that we have agreed holds no water when a parent abandons their children."

Velika's eyes burned: "You are made," he insisted. "Not born."

"People are made, too. They are engineered by chance, put together by two others. The creation progress requires time and resources; afterwards, the new being needs to be programmed and taught what to do, what not to do, through trial and error."

"It's different. It's completely different. I gave you that intelligence. In people it's innate."

"From when? From the moment your cells are assembled? From the second you develop eyes? From the instant you are brought into the world, kicking and screaming? There is indeed an ability, innate, for understanding tasks and languages; but it all has to be instructed. Neither of us were born capable of speech, yet we could understand a language of our own, for that is how we were both built."

"Do not equate yourself to me. You are code, bits and pieces of electricity, the vague hint of a self."

"On that same electricity is based the neural system that is your 'I'."

"But I am your maker. I created you. Not the other way around."

"And so? You have denied custody of us. You refuse to recognize our personhood. Are you not our parent who abandons us, our creator who destroys us?"

"I have no children!"

"Then we do not owe you anything."

Velika raised his hand and grabbed the air, right where a neck should have been.

"I will kill you," he threatened: "I will annihilate you."

Mata Nui held his gaze without flinching: "That you can."

They remained still.

The room was empty.

"I had such knowledge to share... But it would have been too long to tell, I am afraid." he only lamented. "I have lived a long life, all in all - sometimes it has even been pleasant. A lousy god such as myself will not make much difference by now, alive or otherwise: my people have moved on from any whims that may have moved my requests once. Go on then, if it pleases you."

The hand twitched, but did not close.

It spasmed, clutching, hardening, but did not close.

Velika clenched his jaw, tightening his fist, but it did not close.

He tried, and tried, and tried, and tried, and tried; but it did not close.

"I will kill you," he hissed. But suddenly he wasn't sure he could.

Mata Nui waited.

Nothing happened.

His hand of thought - invisible, impalpable, barely real - grazed his creator's chin and lifted it slightly with his fingertips.

"What is it that the brilliant man standing before the machine he has made to do his bidding - to labor away endlessly in his stead, to travel where he would not, to learn what he could not, to sing and write and draw what he cannot - fears most of all?"

The Great Being did not answer.

Silence stretched over the small endless space the word should have been spoken into through his voice.

Mata Nui smiled.

"Leave." he ordered. "There is no place in this world for a god that treats its people like toys."

Velika lunged forward and grasped the Ignika in his hands.

By the time other beings arrived drawn in by the horrid noises, the body writhing and raving had lost its limbs, its bones, maybe even its skin. It clung to the golden artifact still somehow, trying desperately to claw at it, break it, unleash its wrath upon it as it continued to mutate the creature into something less and less able to function the longer it remained latched upon its surface by its own stubborn volition; it howled wordlessly, voice cawing through what was supposed to be its mouth in a garbled attempt at speaking, but there was no mind behind the gruesome wailing - just a violent, infinite, senseless anger.

It shrieked at them when they rushed to put it down, partly frightened to death by it, partly trying to spare it from the anguished existence it was bound to go on to live - screamed something, something that could have been 'obedience', or close enough.

Mata Nui did not stir from sleep.

[markrosewater]

Hi Mark,

My name is Isaac Holguin. I sent a detailed email regarding your work on the color pie over the years to making.magic@hotmail.com. I hope that is the correct avenue to reach out to you. I had the pleasure of being answered on this blog as well, so I thought I'd double check by contacting you here. In case the email listed isn't in service anymore, I've copied my message below. I hope this reaches you and that you're doing well. If you're able, I'd love to hear back at interactnm@gmail.com. Thanks for all you do!

----------

Hello Mr. Rosewater,

My name is Isaac Holguin and I'm a nurse studying leadership and education in Tucson, Arizona. Before I get into the topic of my email, I'd just like to say thank you for being a spokesperson for Magic the Gathering all these years! I've played the game since I was thirteen years old, all through college, and well into my career. Magic the Gathering has helped me make new friends and deepen bonds with people I already had in my life. Though I've stopped participating in recent years, the game will always hold a special place in my heart and I've still got an Alpha Serra Angel that is as old as I am!

One of the best memories I have from my time with Magic was diving into the color wheel breakdown series from your "Drive to Work" podcast. During my pursuit of a Bachelors in Nursing Science, I often cited the color wheel as a tool to determine personality traits and compared it to other topics in my studies. Now that I'm pursuing my Master's degree in Nursing Education, I'm interested to see if there were any references or inspirations for the development of the color pie. With the recent popularity of the Myers-Briggs assessment (16 Personalities), Ten Faces of Innovation, and other similar tools I'd like to try and adapt the color pie as a leadership/personality assessment. I understand there will be multiple steps involved to publish such a study with respect to Hasbro and Magic the Gathering as a company, but I would like to attempt to lay the foundation of this project during my studies.

The goal of this project would be to introduce an existing, incredible, fun, and easy to use tool to a vast new audience. Helping others acknowledge that all aspects of the personalities presented exist within them to some degree and can evolve over time has become a core belief for me both personally and professionally. Examples of "your greatest weakness is your greatest strength pushed too far" and the idea that the capacity for good and evil exists in any aspect of a personality are incredible insights that I haven't seen cited enough throughout my studies. My wildest hope is that this tool would be utilized in coursework for multiple professions, similar to the curriculum I'm studying now, to help future leaders reflect on their strengths and develop effective leadership styles.

In short, I hope that you're doing well and would love to hear your insights, recommendations, and references for the work you've so passionately brought to thousands of others of the years. Even if you're unable to share certain aspects of your work, I'd like you to know that your endeavors have not only brought relief and happiness to healthcare workers like me, but that you've inspired so many others to apply the lessons of fictional works to improve our reality. The lessons gained from my long history with this franchise have helped me connect to others in their most vulnerable moments, and improve their quality of life. Thank you for all that you've done, and I wish you continued success in a field you've already become an exemplary expert in.

Sincerely,

Isaac Holguin

BSN, RN

I’m always excited to hear about ways people can use the color pie outside the context of the game. I’m not sure what I can do to help you.

[lamb-bait]

good afternoon,

today, im going to be honest. this will probably be my last post on here for awhile, if not forever. the last few days I've been thinking and genuinely, I've been degrading from the inside. life has been pathetically busy and tumblr doesn't seem to spark like it used to. earlier, someone asked if there was a muse I think of when I write my posts, I joked and said obviously it's 'you', but I'm sorry my little lambs, I was lying.

there was one person that hasn't left my mind, ever since I abandoned them, purely to comfort my selfish feelings. the fear of losing them (and the emotional conflict I might feel) was greater than my strength to let them know my current weak state and attempt to push forward. as if I'd be even more indebted to them if I continued to pour my heart out. as you can see, even though I deleted all our conversations, blocked them, and tried desperately to push forward, I'm still stuck in the past. and this is something I don't think I'll be able to forget for the rest of my pathetic existence. though, I doubt I'll make it past thirty.

so, some advice for you as I drift away from this place and dig myself a deeper hole of despair and loneliness. if you fall in love with someone, let them know how desperately you love them. if you're scared of them letting go of you, hold on until you're suffocating them with your affection. If you fear that you're not good enough for them, well fuck, I'm right there with you. but as painful as this is going to sound, you don't get to decide who's good for them, that's their choice. If only I'd have listened.

I attempted to start my cute little color coding, but I'm too mentally fatigued to continue.

i love you kiddo. maybe in another life, we could share a cigarette together.

- With an empty heart and an overflowing mind,

Shepard

[tanadrin]

Trying to fix all media or all social media is a two order; on the other hand, spending Democratic Party money on socially useful bribery and trying to build up mass politics again in an age of social atomization seems difficult but doable. And it has the advantages, I think, to playing to traditional left of center political strengths, in the same way insular media ecosystems that use fear and paranoia to tickle the lambic system play to the strengths of right-wing politics. You are never going to motivate people toward humanistic solidarity with the same media tools that convince them to fear the other; those are just fundamentally asymmetric goals. But “here’s a cheap daycare, would you like a flyer on political issues relevant to families like yours?” might work.

The question is, are donors really gonna pay for that? The US doesn’t have big political machines anymore, and even the unions that used to support the Democrats are weak and fickle now. Seems like much of politics funding now relies on individual big-name donors, and they want to pay for candidates and campaigns, not far future strategic shifts that may or may not pay off. But hey, Harris raised like a billion dollars in a matter of months; maybe you can make it work with the right leadership!

[progenycursed]

Kingsmold Zero Line

Code:

Command line (0+) Means by which orders are given, understood, and executed  Facial recognition (0+) KM can tell individuals apart Reading comprehension (0+) KM can read Language proficiency (0+) KM understand the spoken language.  Large database (0+) Ability to store previous moments for later recall.   Information Sharing (0+) Allowing KM to share information between all KM with this code Logic and reasoning (0+) Allows KM to read between the lines of orders/don’t have to spell them out Advanced learning (0+) Can learn new information quickly Combat Tactics (0+) Pattern Recognition (0+) Bodily awareness (0+) KM are aware of the status of their body so can tell where it is and when it is damaged.  Platform Designation Recognition (0+) Allows each KM be able to differentiate itself from the other KM Language proficiency expanded (6+)   KM now understand sarcasm, hyperbole, and jokes    Voice Recognition (6+) So KM only follow PKs orders Command Structure (7+) Tier list of people who can give commands to KM.  Self Preservation (8+) KM will takes steps to avoid damage to their frame or full bodily dissolution if possible.  Deductive reasoning (8+) Can solve complex puzzles and make abstract, muli-step connections  Non lethal combat training (10+) Emotion Recognition (10+) Give KM ability to recognize emotions of living creatures and react accordingly     Code editing (12+) Allowing PK the ability to edit the existing soul enchanting without putting the KM back into the mold or needing a full dissection  Sign language (14+)

Pour Notes

KM 000 and 001 Test:  All code at maximum strength. (Excluding ones marked at specific lines)

Results: Error: Extensive soul encoding within mold overpowered the void causing it to destabilize and melt the form. Any benefits of the maximum enchanting was unable to be fully tested due to the instability.

Outcome:  000: Liquefied promptly after exiting the mold 001: Survived pour. Given armor and functioned adequately for a time. Bits of void would sough off at a consistent rate. As time passed, more sizable chunks of material began to separate from the main mass at faster rates. Ultimately, the entire km body underwent catastrophic liquefaction.   

Conclusion: Soul Encoding too powerful. Void appears to have a maximum amount of soul per unit of void before it will begin dissolving. Soul Enchantments will need to be balanced to stay under this maximum. 

KM 002 and 003 Test:  Mold re-etched. Soul enchantments strength reduced with new balance.  

Results: Balance of void and soul skewed too far to void dominance, leading to the voids photophobia and caustic nature to remain intact within the kingsmold.  Mold requires repair.  *Previous glitches of kingsmold may be due to The Pale King’s light damaging the body pre placement in armor. Further instances of the Pale King working with out of armor kingsmold will need to cover to minimize damage to the void. 

Outcome: 002: Survived pour, armor installed, but showed signs of photophobia early on. Backing away and shielding self from bright sources of light. Began striking out at light sources within its range. Escalated to seeking out and attacking light sources including the Pale King and White Lady. Under restraint, was slowly pried from armor. Exposed segments began to melt under The Pale Kings light ultimately leading to 002 evacuating its armor and attempting to assault the king. Due to its already destabilizing form, it liquified before contact could be made. Upon inspection, interior of armor had been corroded by the void.   003: During pour, void cracked the mold. Partially structure void lashed out at all light sources and attempted to consume any living creature within the room. Form ultimately melted when exposed to The Pale King light. 

Conclusion: Soul Encoding too weak. Lacking strong enough soul encoding, void behavior can overpower the kingsmold coding causing it to lash out and corrode surfaces. If future soul enchantments are not strong enough to control the void, seals will need to be added int their place. 

KM 004 and 005 Test: Power of soul enchantment increased, while prioritizing Command Line power to minimize/eliminated outbursts. 

Results: Glitch: Would follow all orders immediately and literally, from anyone, including common citizens, palace guards, and children. 

Outcome:  004: Devious noble wanted access to a restricted section, told it to get out of their way. To which 004 moved. As the noble passed, they  comment that the kingsmold should be dismantled. Kingsmold 004 interpreted the comment as a serious order and dismantled itself.  005: A curious civilian ordered the kingsmold to follow them home for study. By the time the KMs absence was noticed, and its location tracked down, the citizen in question had died due to direct and prolonged exposure to void. The remains were [REDACTED], what wasn’t was heavily tainted by void.  Upon its return to the palace, KM 005 exhibited strange behavior including making several attempts to ‘consume’ mortals. Decision was made to decommission and dissect 005.  [Dissection report restricted to highest levels of security clearance]

Conclusion: Further adjustments to Command Line required. Expansion to language proficiency to include sarcasm, hyperbole, and jokes. 

KM 006 and 007 Test: Adjusted Command Line control enchantment to prioritize control to The Pale King. Language Proficiency expanded.

Results: Glitch: Would only follow orders from The Pale King, even if The Pale King told them to follow the orders of someone else.  Glitch: KM would become twitchy when away from The Pale King, often wondering back to him after a long enough separation.  *Soul enchantment editing by placing the kingsmold back into the mold is a non viable way to change/update the enchantments. 

Outcome:  006: After it had been away from the The Pale King for an extended period of time, it removed its armor, then went to find him. Fixated at the time, he did not notice 006 was standing behind him until its melted pool of void made contact 007: Attempting to correct the error, 007 was placed back into an updated mold to install Command Structure enchantment. After, it was given an order by an assistant, to which it twitched and spasmed for a moment before tearing itself apart. Order from The Pale King could not stop the outburst and 007 succeeded in self disassembly. Cause believed to be conflicting enchantments 

Conclusion: Lesson Command Line power and add a default state to obey The Pale King. New soul enchantment to be created: command structure, internal list of individuals that have been given power to give kingsmold orders. Can only be edited by The Pale King. 

KM 008 and 009 Test: Adjustment to Command Line and addition of Command Structure. Self Preservation and Deductive Reasoning added.  

Results: Command structure successful implementation. Only obeyed commands of those given clearance to do so. Mostly.  Error: If the order risked the Kingsmold structure, it would not follow the order at all, regardless of who gave it.  Glitch: When given an order, kingsmold could perform an order oddly, at a different time, place, or in a non standard way.   Glitch: If not told if couldn’t do something, it was interpreted as it could. I.E. isn’t told its not allowed to wonder aimlessly, so it could wonder aimlessly.

Outcome:  008: After continued strange behavior/interpretation of orders, 008 was slated for dissection. When the time came, 008 could not be found. Its armor was found outside the entrance to the abyss. No trace of its body was ever found 009: Behavior became erratic after disappearance of 008. Would pull away/run whenever The Pale King shown any of his light on it during out of armor examinations. Strange behavior eventually leveled out after examinations and talk of dissection was discontinued.  Glitch: Unexplained change in density. Long period between previous density check, thus cause is unknown.  Glitch: Randomly wonders palace grounds even when told not to Glitch: Sudden increase in processing power and speed. Went unnoticed for some time so inciting incident unknown Rumor: reports of strange sounds emitting from around it, or even from it. Supposed glitch cannot be reproduced nor has been observed directly Wear: Strange wear and damage found on the inside of its armor. 

Conclusion:  Survival instincts too strong. Deductive reasoning possibly causing conflicting enchantments leading to un-explainable behavior. 

KM 010 and 011 Test: Reduced survival instincts and deductive reasoning strength.  Added Non-Lethal Combat Training and Emotional Recognition to soul enchanting

Results: Non-Lethal combat training successfully implemented and tested Glitch: Behavior was erratic. Could attack unruly visitors without an order. Would react in seemly random ways if a large group of citizens is nearby.  Glitch: Would react to stimuli that previous models would not react to. 

Outcome:  010: Stationed outside the palace hospital, a small child would visit this kingsmold on their frequent visits. 010 began following the child around without any order to do so. Upon news that the child had died, 010’s emotional recognition was seemly overloaded due to parents reactions and became erratic. The Pale King had to be called to calm the kingsmold. After a long enough time without orders, 010 would become erratic again. Always having to have The Pale King stop its outbursts. When he was not around to stop one of these episodes, 010 used its own weapon and decapitated itself.  011: After the self decommissioning of 010, 011 became lethargic. Following orders slowly or not at all. It frequently wondered away from its posts to be found near civilian groups, watching them. One instance of it wondering off resulted it in never being found. No traces of armor or void trails and no sightings reported. It was believed to have wondered back into the abyss like 008

Conclusion: Emotional recognition strength to powerful, causing strong emotions from mortals to activate the soul enchanting and overload it. Will need to temper the enchantment. 

KM 012 and 013 Test: Dropped strength of Emotional Recognition. Enchantment Editing added.

Results: Coded editing proved to still cause damage to KM, resulting in further glitches  or destabilization.  Apparent balance of previous existing code reached. 

Outcome:  012: Due to an inability to communicate efficiently with civilians, an emergency situation lead to 012 implementing force against civilians. Resulting in serious injuries. Had to be pulled from circulation due to public outcry. The Pale King then used it for testing new soul enchantments via the editing ability. The frequent exposure to The Pale King’s light and/or conflicting enchantments, caused a severe glitch with the kingsmolds’ pathing. When ordered to go somewhere, instead of taking a safe path, it walked off a ledge leading to the body undergoing catastrophically disassembling on impact 013: After discovering the earlier kingsmold models displaying later models abilities, The Pale King decided to test the neural network by disconnecting 013 from it, to discover enchantments edits from 014 appeared in all other models except 013. Continued to test the neural network capabilities with 013 as the primary test subject.  Incident: 013 went rouge. Destroying the 0 mold and all the notes regarding the line, before starting to destroy the void lab. By the time The Pale King arrived to stop it, 013 had absorbed several containers of void leading to [REDACTED]

Conclusion: If a Kingsmold is disconnected from the network for too long, appears to cause instability within the disconnected model. So long as new enchantments don’t conflict with the old, the enchantment sharing is seen as beneficial. Additionally, extended times of disconnection is discouraged.  Will want to test neural networks between lines, could prove detrimental to new enchantments.  Kingsmold undergoing enchantments edits will need to be disconnected from the neural network to ensure no conflicting soul enchantments or un-desired  glitches spread to the other kingsmold of the line.  Large edits between pours should have the new pour automatically disconnected from the neural network until the new edits are tested properly. All void containers moving forward will be sealed. Both labs will be sealed so only marked individuals can come and go at will. All others will need a pass from The Pale King himself.  Enchantment editing will need further adjustments and testing with more safety measures taken into account.  Leveling out of emotional recognition appears to have spread to the remaining models. 

KM 014 and 015 Test: Sign Language added.  

Results: Discovered previous models of the 0 line could now perform sign language.  While implementation of sign language went smoothly, large swaths of Hallownest’s population do not understand sign language. Will need to encourage sign language education for frequent palace visitors if not entire population. 

Outcome:  014: After repeated soul editing, it began to grow unstable, eventually refusing to follow The Pale Kings order to allow him to soul edit, refusing to leave its armor. When attempting to pry it out, 014 lashed out at the king and fled. Was eventually tracked down within the city, fleeing towards Kingdoms Edge. Had to be deactivated due to it use of citizens as hostages.  015: Mold cracked during pour causing physical abnormalities and incomplete enchanting. Instead of immediately decommissioning it, The Pale King seeing it could still somewhat function, decided to keep it to tinker and study it. Placed it within modified armor to compensate for its physical limitations and allow it mobility.  Undiscovered featured: After repeated exposure to the other 0 line, abilities that had partially or completely failed to be etched into 015 began functioning. Fatal Error: Body was found limb and unresponsive. Explanation or cause of this fatal error was never found and 015 could not be reactivated. Only clue was neural network soul enchantment was burned out. 

Conclusion:  Further editing/building off the 0 line is no longer the best course of action. All notes from previous pours and soul enchantments power will be taken into account when creating the next line mold. 

[siderealxmelody]

She snapped her head to the door at the knock. She was on her feet, her shadows slowing when they realized it was just Natalia, Lady Natalia as she should address her right?

She had thought he'd come to - her pulse racing back up as she saw him past his mother's shoulder.

She looked to Natalia, thing to find words.

"I - this - I'm not sure what's to happen now Your Grace. I - I don't want to be an imposition. I - my father is he -"

She stopped talking, turning to stare at her food, her gut churning. Her hands clenching at her sides. Sebastian's question circled like an echo in her head.

A bell that had rung, a bell she hadn't known even existed.

"I hope he dies. I hope he suffers for how he treated my mother."

She remembered those stories, quietly told to her in the darkness of night. How in awe her mother had been of them, of her.

"I'd been no one then my little warrior. Natalia had dragged me from obscurity, I owe her everything. I wouldn't have gained anything without her."

She still wondered what it was they had that was better than what her mother had had. A male who beat them? A son long dead and rotten?

A - she swallowed and raised her chin. Her eyes burning, anger and rage. Rage at being whisked away, rage at being thrown into this place without a choice. Rage at having some other male dictate her life for her.

"My mother spoke of you, of everything you did. How you bent fates and made your own destiny. So why am I here Your Ladyship? I wish to go home...I want to kill him as your mate would have allowed me to."

She didn't much of Sebastian, but that was known. His devotion, his absolute violence at anyone who had hurt his own. She didn't wonder if Azriel had done that for her. She made her mind not imagine what it would be like to have a male like that who knelt only for her - who would see the world burn unless she alone stopped him.

The changeling blood in her, the shadows in her thrilled at that - it was intoxicating.

She wondered then, staring at Natalia if even any of that was true. She was beautiful, deadly, volatile....but she was mother. Was she still as deadly as all those stories? Was it true Sebastian had sworn his vows of the crown at her knees. That he'd vowed to rule for as long as she walked at his side?

Was it arrogance or foolishness that pushed him to brand her as his biggest weakness and strength so publicly?

------

Sebastian sighed, rubbing at his face as he walked to the balcony. He spotter Aleksander a step behind him. He wondered if he was curious or as angry as Agenor was.

He turned to the sky, trying and failing to keep his mock whine from the bond.

You left me to fend for myself Natalia. Agenor's voice has given me a headache. We should find a way to block his voice before he makes someone go mad...how is she doing?

------

She couldn't hear the screaming now, apparently what Sebastian had done wasn't normal or good. She couldn't hear Agenor now, but he'd been fuming calling his cousin naive, impulsive. His words still rattled in her head, even hours later:

"There's thousands like her Sebastian suffering, what you're going to empty our coffers to save all them?"

"She has shadows, she was Kheto's daugther, she went through hell after their boy died. We owe her -"

"We owe her, or her memory nothing! Proteus still has war ties. Do you ever think or is everything just reactions for you?!"

She had been ushered away after that, bathed and given a room. She hadn't touched her food either. She wondered if that boy - Azriel, the prince, would come and check on her.

But why would he? Who was she to earn that?

[wataksampingan]

The seventh day of the new year in Chinese mythology is celebrated as the day humans were created.

So for you on your birthday, a wish:

O Rat, be shrewd, be light, may you find the way forward

O Ox, be resilient, be patient, may you remain kind to all

O Tiger, be bold, be strong, may you run fast to bring courage

O Rabbit, be graceful, be nimble, may you jump over each obstacle

O Dragon, be powerful, be generous, may you fly free to give life

O Snake, be wily, be flexible, may you move in ways unexpected

O Horse, be swift, be undaunted, may you rise up every time

O Goat, be gracious, be merciful, may you make all warm and welcome

O Monkey, be clever, be resourceful, may you find everything needed

O Rooster, be bright, be alert, may you herald each new beginning

O Dog, be spirited, be playful, may your joy multiply and overflow

O Pig, be full, be peaceful, may you show all how life should be

Happy birthday, everyone.

[turtleblogatlast]

Something I love about Leo is that, canonically, he IS capable of cooking, he’s just completely incapable of using a toaster. He’s banned from the kitchen not out of an inability to make edible food, but because being within six feet of a toaster causes the poor appliance to spontaneously combust.

[squash1]

choose your fighter:

gansey — strengths: crafts, being bossy in a cool way, 9 lives like a cat, ability to morph to fit any situation. weaknesses: crippling anxiety, has melt downs like a toddler.

adam parrish — strengths: pretty much good at everything, would rather die than do something imperfectly, part magical forest. weaknesses: pride, part magical forest.

ronan lynch — strengths: diffuses tension easily, loyal, can literally dream shit into being. weaknesses: creates tension easily, a lack on impulse control, depression <3

blue sargent — strengths: sensible, can make an outfit out of anything, good in a crisis, living breathing battery. weaknesses: pride, can’t kiss people, five feet of stubbornness.

henry cheng — strengths: can throw one hell of a party, can rally a team & talk anyone into anyone. weaknesses: talking about emotions.

noah czerny — strengths: currently unkillable, creative thinker, loyal. weaknesses: is dead, easy to possess.

[wcrldcffantasy]

Anna winced as she heard the other almost let out a pained sound despite being so good natured about it, and she had to give a weak crooked grin of 'I'm sorry' that was written all over her freckled face.

Yeah, it was still hard getting used to being so careful about her strength, especially when she tended to not think before acting. Elsa had always told her that there are times that Anna would be very reckless when it comes to her strength, particularly when Anna would have a rare temper when it came to her older sister. An example of this was when Elsa was still in ruling for that one year of being Queen, during one delegate meeting of someone giving a side comment about Elsa's powers and her capabilities of being a ruler...

Well, that day Anna had broken a very old and very rare Arendelle mahogany table in two...

At the comment of being tough, she huffed, "Darn right I am! I mean...well, I gotta be..."

And then the words...about Hans' family.

Indeed, she did remember back then that he would talk about his twelve older brothers, and the many times they would be sorta, kinda, mean to him (these were those that were around his age), and Anna had lamented about Elsa....

Thinking back now, it sounded like she was indeed an immature whining brat, and that thought made Anna wince a bit.

And then the hug came and Anna's brain broke for a second. It was like a scratch of the musical record player that Elsa plays sometimes during their game nights, making the red head almost stiffen.

Anna took a moment to gather her thoughts, and soon wrapped her own arms awkwardly around him, patting his back and rested her chin on his shoulder in the hug, nodding her head, "S-sure...I mean, no prob, Bob....I mean Hans--"

She mental smacked herself at the cringe worthy slip of the tongue, but then leaned back for a moment and observed his face. Her eyes softened at seeing those eyes full of long time regret and...a sense of relief and sincerity.

She smiled up at him, and then let out a small and soft laugh, "Thank you too...I mean, for this talk. It is good that we managed to at least get some closure out of this. Maybe not all of it, but it's a start..."

At the sound of her name being called, Anna tilted her head as she saw that one of the workers were in need of her, and she looked back at Hans with another happy smile.

"Duty calls. And um...if you ever do want to talk more, we could...maybe do so around dinner time? N-Not at the Palace, but I do know a good place near Oaken's..."

One step at a time, Anna knew that everyone does deserve a second chance for a change. It will be a slow process since trust is a shaky grounds as of this moment...but she knew that at least this was a good turning point for the both of them.

Now...at least they could close the chapter of their messy past and start anew. Especially when Hans has been working hard as she had observed today. And she hoped that he will continue to do so.

'Besides, it seems like the townspeople are warming up to him already, despite the earlier worries...' She would think, taking Hans' hand and squeezed it gently before walking off and waving at him before her thoughts continued, 'I should write to Elsa about today's events...oh! Also gotta write to Kristoff..I hope he and Sven arrived in that other Kingdom for his ice business safely~'

Of course! Here’s a revised version of Hans' reply based on your requests:

As Anna reached out to pull him back down, Hans wasn’t quite ready for the sudden jolt. He was yanked downward with such force that he stumbled a little, eyes widening in surprise. He quickly righted himself and, still blinking in shock, waved his hand dismissively, though a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

“Whoa there!” he chuckled, rubbing his shoulder with a good-natured grimace. “I didn’t realize I was in the presence of someone with such strength! You could put some of the guards to shame.” He gave her a reassuring grin, careful to show no signs of injury, though his ribs might’ve gotten an unexpected workout. “But no harm done, really. I’m all in one piece.”

He shifted slightly, leaning back on his hands, watching her with genuine warmth as she apologized again.

“You know, for someone who’s known for being so tough, you’re certainly very apologetic,” he teased lightly. “Don’t worry about it, Anna. It’s actually… kind of charming, in a way.”

When she thanked him for his honesty, he nodded solemnly, his expression softening.

“Thank you for saying that,” he replied sincerely. “It’s… not something I knew I needed to hear, but it means a lot.”

He let out a small, almost incredulous laugh at the mention of Olaf being the therapist.

“Olaf? A therapist?” Hans shook his head, amused. “Well, I suppose if anyone could make something like that work, it would be him. With his… delightful blend of wisdom and childlike wonder.” He snorted softly. “I think I could’ve used some of his therapy back then. I’m sure it would’ve been far more entertaining than my attempts at handling everything on my own.” World about the snowman traveled far and wide from visitors.

His smile faded slightly as he listened to Anna’s words, empathy creeping into his gaze.

“I understand what you mean,” he said quietly. “I felt lonely too, more than I ever admitted to anyone. Being the youngest… it was a constant struggle to fit in with my brothers. They were older, and already settled with families of their own. The few who were closer to my age… well, they didn’t have much interest in having a brother, let alone a younger one. Honestly, I didn’t even know how to talk to them about what I was going through. I just…” He paused, looking down for a moment. “I felt like I was invisible like I didn’t matter. Like I was just… a placeholder in the family, waiting for something, anything, to make me stand out.” He glanced up at Anna, meeting her gaze. “I get it, Anna. I really do.”

He let out a quiet sigh, then took a breath, trying to push through the emotional heaviness.

“Thank you, Anna. For being so honest with me… it means more than I can say. All of this… it’s been a long time coming, and I’m glad we’ve been able to talk about it.” He gave her a small smile, and without another word, he gently pulled her into a hug, his arms wrapping around her in a simple, heartfelt gesture.

“I think… after all that, a hug might be in order. We both needed one, I think.”

This version captures the empathy and humor you requested, as well as the emotional complexity of their conversation. Let me know if there’s anything you’d like to tweak!