#and too much suffering that others are experiencing hitting me all at once

[savage-rhi]

💙

[theambitiouswoman]

how do you deal with shame? bc i suffered with severe depression and im just getting my own apartment at 30 years old. i still have no degree, the job i go to in ashamed everyday even though it pays my bills and take care of my kids because i see everyone who i went to high school with graduated and some got their masters. im ashamed of what i been through and ashamed of where im in at my life and im carrying deep deep depression and shame because i feel like im not enough and embarrassed of where im at because i know i could’ve did more with my life.

I really want to answer this because I also remember feeling behind at one point and I definitely remember my friends comparing themselves to me because we didn’t make the same life decisions.

Just want to warn you I’m going to give you some compassion combined with a little tough love.

I’m really, REALLY sorry you’re feeling this way. No matter how different your life looks to others, it’s your life. It’s easy to compare yourself to people who seem to have it all figured out, but their paths aren’t yours. Just because you are seeing someone during the good times in their lives, doesn’t mean it will always be that way or that it won’t be for you when the time is right.

I remember feeling so much judgment because all my friends were married, had serious boyfriends, or kids. Back then, I’d leave our dinners in tears, feeling like a failure. Looking back now, the pressure I felt seems almost comical, but it was painful at the time. For context, I’ve been engaged more than once, yet I wasn’t ready to settle. Now, many of those women are divorced and starting over, often without financial independence, while I’m at a high point in my life and considering settling down on my own terms.

The lesson here is that life isn’t a race or a checklist. It’s not linear, and it doesn’t have to follow a timeline. Some people hit their stride at 20, others at 30, 40, or beyond—and that’s okay. Life is meant to be experienced, not rushed. The lessons we learn along the way shape us. Society’s timelines and standards are just that—standards. You don’t have to follow them to live a fulfilling, meaningful life.

Depression is incredibly hard to deal with, and it’s not something I take lightly. But since you’re committed to working on yourself, it’s so important to remind yourself to keep pushing forward. That said, I think you’re being way too hard on yourself right now. Who wouldn’t feel overwhelmed? But let’s take a step back—you have your own apartment for the first time, which is incredible! You have a job that allows you to provide for your kids, putting food on the table and showing up as a parent who loves them deeply. How lucky are they to have you?

From my perspective, you’re incredibly strong. You’ve faced depression and still found the courage to keep building yourself up. That’s no small feat. Don’t let negative thoughts get in your way—practice reframing them. Instead of focusing on what you feel is lacking, focus on how far you’ve come and the amazing things you’re doing right now. You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for.

You may not like where your life is now, but you have to realize that it is under your control. If you want to change your life now, today, you can. Your life will start to change when you yourself commit to change. And that starts with your thoughts. Work on your perspective. Don’t beat yourself up for what could have happened or didn’t happen because you’re wasting even more time for absolutely nothing. You feel like you’ve wasted years, why would you want to continue wasting any more?

Shame often stems from the story we tell ourselves, so try to shift that narrative. You wouldn’t shame your friends for struggling; you’d remind them of their resilience. Focus on small wins— change your perspective. Start focusing on showing gratitude for the things you do have and what you’ve overcome. Gratitude for everything and anything. Gratitude attracts miracles and abundance. I know this sounds dumb or unrealistic, but it’s true. Besides, it doesn’t hurt to try.

I’m very proud of you and you can do so much more, anything you want if you just had a little bit of faith in yourself. Your worth isn’t defined by what you’ve been through or what you’ve accomplished. It’s defined by the fact that you’re here, trying and pushing forward. That alone makes you more than enough.

[semperama]

trick or treat🧡🧡 (idk if you want specific ish requests or not, but just in case ex husbands maxiel maybe? 👀 nothing spookier than that lol)

Always SO happy to talk about ex husbands maxiel. Here's a (possible, I can't commit this to stone) headcanon for how they end up back together (because of course they end up back together):

--

After Max retires from racing, he starts spending more time at home with his sister and mother and less and less time in Monaco, and he and Daniel see less and less of each other. Daniel had been finding excuses to show up to races, helping out with commentary and stuff, but once Max isn't there, he starts splitting his time between Australia and LA, depending on business obligations. They go from seeing each other frequently to almost never and it's--Daniel feels hollow, like he's been carved out inside, and if something hits him wrong, he'll shatter into a million pieces.

He ends up deeply depressed in ways he can't acknowledge, going through the motions of his own life. Nothing feels right anymore. Food doesn't taste right. The air doesn't feel right on his skin. He still smiles and laughs and sees his friends, but sometimes it's like he's watching his life from a distance, not really experiencing anything anymore.

Then one day he runs into Max in LA, just like he used to before they were even dating, when his heart started beating fast at the sight of him but he wasn't able to acknowledge what that meant. It hurts this time, because even after the divorce, Max always used to tell him when he was going to be in town, but this time he didn't.

(What he doesn't know is that Max has been suffering too. He only retreated into his family for comfort. He's only stayed away from Daniel because the exes-with-benefits thing started to hurt too much. He always, always wanted to ask Daniel to give him another chance, but he was too afraid Daniel would say no.)

Daniel invites Max back to his place and realizes too late how shameful it is--unwashed dishes in the sink, empty cans and bottles scattered around, clothes on the floor of the bedroom (including one of Max's old Red Bull t-shirts, which he sleeps in sometimes, even though it lost Max's smell a long time ago). But Max doesn't comment on any of it, and they fuck on Daniel's rumpled, unwashed sheets, and afterward they hold each other for a long, long time, and Daniel has to keep biting down on his bottom lip to keep from saying something he shouldn't, or shouting, or sobbing.

Max is the brave one who finally says, "I miss you," and Daniel gives in to the impulse to ask Max to stay with him for a while. Max has a flight in a couple days, but he changes it and ends up staying with Daniel for a couple weeks instead, and even though they don't talk about what it all means, Daniel feels like he's coming alive again. His chest hurts constantly--like the pins and needles of the blood rushing back into a limb that was asleep--but that's better than the numbness he had before. They fall back into their old routines, going for runs along the same routes they used to take through the hills, visiting the restaurants they loved, curling up on the couch to watch dumb movies. Daniel ignores texts and calls from friends, because he doesn't want to shatter the illusion.

Then it comes time for Max to leave, and Daniel just--can't. He thinks he might die if he has to watch Max walk out the door again. He literally will lie down on the floor and never get up again. While Max packs his things, Daniel hovers, pacing the bedroom, opening his mouth and then closing it again against words he knows he doesn't have a right to say.

Finally, finally, he lets himself croak, "I don't want you to go." Max turns to him, and his eyes are red, and his hands are balled into fists, and he says, "I will stay, if you tell me to."

They cancel Max's flight. A month later, Max goes with Daniel back to Perth. The ache in Daniel's chest goes away. His smile feels real again.

[zeondraws]

It is 4AM in the morning, I should hit the bed asap. But I needed some time on my own tonight, because I've been supressing feelings way too much the past months. (Thought post about random thoughts, no clue if they make sense it's 5AM when I post this)

I found it really hard to talk to friends about my emotions as of recent. One reason might be, that I still suffer some pain I endured from the old work enviroment.

Somehow I often just want to be left alone, I feel very drained most of the time. But that often leads to a loop effect and I isolate myself further.

Like, at the old workplace I was expected to do something constantly, if I wasn't working on anything for over 3min I'd get scolded or yelled at. Or my coworker would become an adult baby and behave strangely. The other coworkers never saw anything wrong with him, so I was extremely afraid that everyone else had something against me. My old boss would side with him from time to time. The constant demand to stay productive was so draining.

In the end I got replaced, I mean I thankfully found a new job by then. But a new person came in, another inexperienced young person who seemed nice and all. Not sure how she is doing in that place, either she fits right in, or my coworker is making her endure the same pain, or he just overworks himself as he usually does. A person who had my job before I came, became extremely demotivated there and simply left to another workplace.

I try to explain this a bit to highlight some difficulties I am experiencing atm... I don't talk to family about my feelings that much. I tried but, they get easily offended if I vent too much. I have no called my dad back in a while, I already know when I call him back he will only be offended. Or maybe I am spiraling rn. My head makes things appear worse than they actually are.

You guys see how much stuff I have been doing on tumblr the past months or so. I don't remember how long it's been, but... I am still in this mindset of constantly working and staying productive. I rest when I can but I always get the feeling "I have to stay productive" and work on stuff, even when I am sick. In a way it helps to not fall into thoughht spirals, tho then I don't give myself enough space to rest.

I don't know what my end goal with this endless productivity is supposed to be, I want to be helpful in some way and feel like I belong somewhere. But even right now I feel like something is missing... I can't grasp this thought, I don't know what my end goal is. Been messing with fmodel so much to get the game work on this for datamining, I posted a thread on the fmodel server and they said the game is fully working with it. Which suprised me, that I was able to achieve that. Was I the first one to do so? I always thought there is someone better than me already. I often just think I will be some replaceable object, where someone else just takes my place. And this thought... spirals in a way- where I think very less of me. Stuff like I will be forgotten anyways or hmm someone better comes.

My family treated me like an object at times, not letting me decide what to do. Old coworker did the same and I am expected to just agree to everything they say. I tried extremely hard to fight back at the old workplace but I was always met with a wall.

Sometimes I would struggle venting to friends, because when I felt the lowest I get very clingy. I think when I saw Muir in game I noticed some similarity in him in me for example. Even tho I hate to admit that thought, but I have gotten way better at being less clingy. Maybe it's because I grew up a bit more. I definitely ain't the same like 4 years ago. But not to sidetrack too much... sometimes I would vent to friends and they'd bombard me with advice or, maybe some advice felt off for me. One friend once said that we're replaceable (job related) and that didn't sit right with me. Some of this advice would put me off so much that I would stop talking about my feelings with anyone, or just one small friendgroup. But I don't mention a lot there. I think... I think what I can see with myself is, I distance myself so much from everyone, I don't dm people to have a normal chat (I think I get very confused when I hear people dm each other all the time, what do people dm each other for...?I wouldn't know what to talk about), maybe I hang out on servers. I don't want to look at my main phone because suddenly so much makes me nervous again. I want to be alone the entire time and the meds stop some emotions from popping up.

So I have random outbursts where I would cry. and I really need to sit down after sleep and find a new group therapy.. today

I put ridiculous standards on myself sometimes, not wanting to appear weak and appear "professional". But my imagination of being professional is basically be emotionless and work without problems. Tho this doesn't make sense, perhaps I worry too much since I noticed some people really like what I do here. And I don't want to let people down in that regard. but I don't know how.

Earlier I was debating on wether it is strong if I show my weakness or if it's better to hide it. Tho hiding doesn't bring much for me, it's rather bad.

Yknow an earlier post where I mentioned I really like Roper? I get the feeling one of the reasons I find him interesting is, because the way he appears. He doesn't seem to show emotions that much, rather monotone and seems to be a hard working individual. Who sadly needs to do way more because Rennick makes things more difficult. Tho like, even if you see him in Marine Control later... he just suffers in silence. Ain't like Trots who went full bananas, or Muir feeling extremely anxious and all. Or Addair wanting to call his kids and Rennick just flat maniac. Roper just, sits there and tries to avoid saying much. Only thing he says is to keep Rennick away. Maybe the deleted soundfile of the scene says otherwise, but in my view it feels like idk he just ain't somebody who would talk about his feelings. Maybe Roper is some visual imagination of what I think a professional is, but I think he probably has different problems that could be way worse. Suppressing feelings is not good, I still have a lot to work on, on myself.

I am sadly getting too tired to continue this string of thoughts...I always feel very awkward posting my feelings on the web. I wouldn't know where else to thow them.

I will post something silly after sleep. I made some dumb screenshots ingame that literally made me giggle for half an hour ioudhwioeu. Okay, goodnight

[odusseus-xvi]

Pomme's paranoïa

Because aparently I can't stop talking about this little egg. I wanted to touch this subject because it is something CRUCIAL to her character, and from what I've seen Richas, in his letter to Forever, has actually talked about that and how he is worried for her.

I want to talk here about WHERE that paranoïa might come from idea by idea (more in depth than my post about Pomme as a whole) :

Bobby died THE DAY after her arrival, that probably didn't help. That also caused a startle in everyone on the island making everyone a lot more paranoïd that they already were at Pomme's arrival, she then had the realization that life was EXTREMELY dangerous and limited on the island VERY early on, in a way a bit similar to Richas if we think about it, though Richas experienced it and so processed it wildly diferently, she got a dreadful suspense ; when is it coming to me ? To the others ? Because that's the thing, she is not as scared of losing her lives as she is scared of losing the others and the others losing her.

Not long after Dapper lost his first life to the code, that not only added to the already constant background aprehension, but that also made her the LAST egg with two lives, and from now on, everytime people talked about her was about how she was the next target of the code.

And then she WAS : Targeted by the code next to Ninho after everyone was worried of the tweet from Quackity Studios, and after she was saved THREE times from the codes she saw the people she cared about turn against each other because she had been not careful (Her french dads becoming suspicious of Forever, and therefore of Baghera.) (she was in fact "mind controlled" to come outside but from her POV it was still her fault.) From now on SHE CANNO'T let her guard down, this is both too dangerous for her and the people she loves.

A bit later was the attack that was then considered not canon by the admins because the attack was WAY too powerful : It broke a lot of totems at once and broke all of her armor. Though her death was not considered canon by the admins at first, Pomme (and the admin) played it as actually existing, not as a nightmare, not as non existant, but as an actual event she was saved from by someone or something : She talks about it from time to time, she truly died a bit that day.

(a little quote from that event from her diary because it's Heartbreaking)

"The pain was excruciating. It pierced my body, and with each hit, I felt the life leave my body a little more. The noise of the totems was deafening, the pain prevented me from running to escape. Just a few seconds later, I felt intense pain, even more intense than the previous blows. He had just finished me off. I no longer saw anything, I no longer felt anything. The pain had vanished in an instant. It was cold, I was scared. [...] While I was sleeping. something strange happened. As if the missing part of my soul was repairing itself. When I woke up, I no longer had any pain anywhere. But I'm still scared, more scared than ever. I'm terrified. [...] I never want to suffer so much again. I never want anyone to suffer so much again. I have no other choice; I have to get stronger. I'm going to have to live with this fear from now on, so I might as well put it to good use."

She then starts to actually show her paranoïa in a lot of aspects of her personality :

She is INCREDIBLY quick at trading her butterfly wings for her chestplate at any potential danger. She has also shown multiple times and SAID on her sign that her inventory hotbar is the most paranoïd thing ever : Filled with totems, her weapons, regeneration 2 splash potions (that are also very likely refilled with the backpack upgrade knowing her parents)

She, after learning the codes could imperssionate them now, immediatly figured out a code to make sure she was truly herself.

The day after ElQuackity was exploded by BBH and Max and that he threatened them, Pomme asked Baghera to build another safe room 200k away from spawn as she was not feeling safe in Ninho anymore.

One other interesting thing : She is not just the only egg with two lives, she is the egg that survived the LONGEST with two lives. And two things comes out of that : The fear of losing her first life because it would cause suffering to her AND her loved ones, but ironically also that SHE would be the one that could sacrifice a life to one of her siblings, she would feel terrible if one of her siblings died instead of her "simply" losing a life and she did nothing because she was scared.

A fun (not fun) little fact is that recently this paranoïa for the other's safety has started to transform into anger : She was first scared of ElQuackity, but the second she learned that Dapper was captured by him, she was FURIOUS, Baghera had to tell her multiple times to not go after ElQuackity, and though she is most of the time very empathetic of someone's situation, she has only expressed disgust and hate towards ElQuackity since then, talking multiple times how much she wants to kill him herself. (if that's how she loses her first life : dying trying to kill ElQuackity... I don't what I would do (probably cry))

I could probably find 100 more things to say but I'm writing that in the middle of doing something else and I'm getting a headache so I'll stop there. If you can't tell this was just an excuse to talk about the egg of all time. Let's finish by the quote (that I really like) that crowns her wiki page :

"J'ai beaucoup de questions mais je suis pas sûre de vouloir connaître les réponses"

"I have many questions but I'm not sure I want to know the answers"

[yuriko-mukami]

Her Calamity

Maniac 05

Beta reader: @ruki-mukami-dl

Chapter Selection

The thick scent of ink and ancient paper wafted in the air. Usually, the fragrance soothed my mind and heart but now, I had to concentrate on keeping my feet and fingers restful. Moonlight swung in from the huge windows, and I tried to focus on the silverish color. The moon itself peeked behind the forest almost in its full glory. It would not take long for it to reach its peak.

I turned my head to meet the golden gaze of my benefactor who was standing behind his desk, looking directly at me while his firstborn was taking a nap in the other armchair. The wheat-colored hair rested against the backrest of the seat while quiet sounds of puffing breath filled the room.

“The lunar eclipse is not far away anymore.” Karlheinz-sama roamed to the window, glancing out as if he had read my mind. Sometimes, I wondered if he was capable of such. “You both know what it means to us.”

I nodded. Of course, I knew this. It would be the same as the new moon but worse. Usually, we simply took it easy around that time. Even though I personally despised this time, because feeling sluggish was something I could not stand, the new moon or even the eclipse was usually not a reason to worry. Especially in the realm of humans since there it lasted much a shorter while than here in the Demon World.

Usually.

Since Karlheinz-sama brought this matter up as before, there must be something concerning it. He was much more knowledgeable than me, and lately, he had been worried because of the First Bloods.

A chill traveled down my spine as I remembered the duo and the deal I had made.

I was the snake in the garden. A traitor. That was the role Karlheinz-sama had assigned to me in the past but never would I have thought that I betrayed him as well. Yet, for Yuriko, I would do anything. The same decisions all over again. To protect her. To keep her mine. For she was the bright light that made my life worth living.

Shu yawned and shifted in his armchair. “Sounds like a good reason to sleep a bit more.”

“Once again, you are not taking this seriously enough, Shu.” I could almost taste Karlheinz-sama’s annoyance in the air when his eyes bored into his lazy son. “As you know, we, the Vampires, are at our weakest during the new moon. Yet, that is nothing compared to the eclipse. You should know. You have experienced a few in your life.”

Shu shrugged as I nodded. Experienced, suffered through, and kept moving forward, everything to advance this great man’s plans. I would do the same this time around as well. The eclipse would not stop me from doing my duty and redeem myself from my earlier traitorous deeds.

Karlheinz-sama shifted, concealing the moon from the view. It gave a silver aura around him as his shadow spread over the desk. “Before the eclipse begins, you all are to return to the Demon World. I have made sure that the Sakamaki castle is prepared by that time.”

I had to hide the frown as it was about to climb on my face. Return here? To the Sakamaki castle? A cold shower dripped over me. Yuriko would be staying in the same building as Sakamaki Laito, and I could not have that. Not after everything.

Yes, I have not seen even a glimpse of that disgusting pervert at school after Karlheinz-sama had ordered him to leave my angel alone. Still, I could not trust the same courtesy happening if Laito would constantly run into Yuriko in the Sakamaki castle. The building was huge but not big enough, and even I did not know all its secrets. There would be too many chances for Laito to sneak up on her.

And Laito was not even the only problem that bounced into my mind. How would Yuriko survive in the Demon World? Her kind lived here as well but she was partly human and stayed for her whole life in the Human World. Not to mention, she would be closer to the Yako tribe, and I could not have them see even a glance of her.

I almost flinched as the thought hit me. For the first time ever, my weakened powers during the eclipse could be my doom. It would last longer in the Demon World than in the realm of humans. If Yuriko and I would simply stay in the manor, I could make sure she would be safe. But here… Would I be able to protect her from all the threats that loomed above us?

Yet… I did not wish to explain all this to Karlheinz-sama and even less to Shu. They did not need to know everything, for some things were better kept secret.

“That sounds awfully a lot of trouble.” Shu snorted. “I refuse.”

“I did not give you that option. You will come and tell your brothers to come here as well. We will not risk the plan because of the moon.” Karlheinz-sama sounded more serious than ever and displeaseness slipped into his voice as well. “The First Bloods are on the loose and they have a bone to pick with us. Once the eclipse is upon us, their strength remains but ours will not. I will not give up the plan for this discomfort, which means we will all gather here, and after the eclipse, we will solve this pest problem that has tainted the lands that are rightfully ours.”

Usually, it was difficult to detect any feelings from Karlheinz-sama but now, I think I was able to distinguish them. Was that fear? Could it be that there was something even he was afraid of?

Either way, this would make it all the more difficult for me. Due to my deal with Shin, I was not worried for Yuriko. The Founders had no reason to touch her, for I had kept her away from harm’s way.

I swallowed a sigh. Again, all of this was something I could not share with my benefactor. I had become the lowest of the lowest.

“Karlheinz-sama…” I straightened my spine even more. “I can see the importance of all this for your sons, and I can even send my brothers here. I do trust they are safe with you. But… for Yuriko, there are other risks than the moon which does not affect her. For that, I wish to keep her in the Human World.”

I noticed Shu open his eyes; the blue gaze pierced me. “...interesting…” A mere mumble but I was able to hear it.

“Ruki…” Karlheinz-sama sighed. “Our little anomaly can stay in your manor if you so wish. But I want to have all my sons here in the Demon World. That does include you. This is not something I will negotiate.”

I would not leave Yuriko alone in the manor. That was not an option. “Then…” I sighed. “I ask that we could stay here in Eden. In my old bedroom.”

Even without looking, I could feel how Shu’s eyes were still glued to me. Was he curious because of our earlier conversation or was there another reason? I could not ask him right now. He had also made clear that he was not willing to discuss the matter. So this sudden interest was suspicious, almost worrying. Was I seeing ghosts around me?

“It is surprisingly important to you, is it not, Ruki? To have your girl with you.” Karlheinz-sama smiled and drew his index finger along with his chin line.

I gave the man a nod. “It is. I cannot leave her alone in the Human World.” Or anywhere else. The mere thought of putting Yuriko in danger like that was driving me out of my mind. She was mine and would always be.

“Isn’t she there right now too?” Shu asked all of a sudden.

I turned to look at the eldest of the Sakamaki brothers. His eyes met mine. “She is with my brothers. Did you not leave Eve with yours as well?”

I did not add it but my brothers were much more trustworthy than Shu’s. Even when it came to Kou, I could be sure that neither of them would try to take Yuriko’s blood. And after a serious talk with Azusa, I knew that he would not ask Yuriko to cut him or the other way around. She was safe with them.

But if I were to leave Yuriko alone in the Human World, she could be a target to who knew what atrocities. The foxes had tailed her during the summer. Even though they had not shown up recently, they could simply wait for the right opportunity, and I would not serve it to them.

Shu shrugged but something moved behind his eyes as if gears were turning in his head. “It would have been too troublesome to drag her here. She arranges a fuss for the smallest of things.”

“It is better not be too troublesome to bring her later.” Karlheinz pressed each word. “Since Eve has chosen you, it is your responsibility to make sure she is secured.”

“She is safe where she is.” Shu yawned. “We’ll see about if I bring her here or not.”

For me, it almost seemed like Shu did this on purpose; like he disliked the thought of having Eve in the Demon World. Why was that? I could not know, for I was sure that Eve’s safety was a high priority in Karlheinz-sama’s mind as well. She was the most important asset to his plan, after all.

“Indeed.” Karlheinz-sama tapped his desk with his fingertips while gazing at his son. He shook his head before looking at me again. “Your room is yours to use, Ruki. It has always been. If it puts you at ease, you can stay there with your girl.”

The silence spread between us. I leaned on the backrest, my mind whirling. I had contemplated the possibility of higher resistance to my wish. Yet, my great benefactor showed once more how honorable a man he was. I did not deserve everything he gave me so willingly but this gift I would take with gratitude in my death heart.

Still, I could not push aside the gnawing feeling of duplicity. I have become this creature of two faces, and even this amazing mind could not see behind my mask. It seemed that Karlheinz-sama was as a matter of fact clueless about my connection to the First Bloods and I could only hope it would stay like that.

“Aside from that, Reiji is still working with his experiment. We might have lost our test subject but he was able to collect enough of her blood before she ran away. That little zombie is no longer needed.” Karlheinz-sama sat down and pressed his fingertips together.

A zombie? Elizabeth Virnien had stayed with the Sakamakis, and Yuriko had mentioned the punctual marks on her skin. So, they had not been Vampire bites after all. That could only mean Reiji had used Elizabeth’s blood for this experiment that was important to Karlheinz-sama.

Why were the Founders and Karlheinz-sama both interested in that zombie? What was her part in all of this? Suddenly there was a new piece in my puzzle, and I was not sure where it would fit.

“Reiji is close to the final breakthrough. I am hoping the results will be finished latest when the lunar eclipse will strike.” Karlheinz-sama’s voice stayed calm and collected as he spoke. But one corner of his mouth was slightly curling up. “Before that, he will run some tests. He will need Eve’s blood for them.”

Shu growled, straightening up. “Reiji will not bite her.”

“That won’t be necessary.” Karlheinz-sama sighed. “He can use a needle. To be honest, I asked him to collect the sample while you are here.”

I had never seen Shu getting up that fast. He almost turned invisible in my eyes, then wavered and fell toward the floor before he managed to collect himself. A growl cut through the room. “You! Let me teleport!”

Karlheinz-sama chuckled. “No. This is important and you will stay in this room until our talk is done.”

Another snarl vibrated through the air. Shu dashed toward his father but was stopped in the middle of his movements as if an indistinguishable force had held him. I could do nothing but stare at the show while the truth sank into me. This was Karlheinz-sama’s power. He could stop a pureblood Vampire without lifting a finger which meant I had no chance against him if it would ever come to that. Not that I wanted to do such a thing, he was my great benefactor after all. And as I saw how he tamed his son in front of me, the admiration filled me. He was a man who did not take disrespect from anyone.

“Still so weak, Shu. You must awaken your full potential as Adam if you wish to proscribe me. I know you have not started your training with Ruki’s little anomaly yet. But if you do not do it voluntarily, it will happen once you are all here.” Shivers ran down my spine. Was there any way I could still keep Yuriko in the Human World?

[beautysurvives]

okay i started this free to be you and me fic but hit a wall once dean started mentally comparing sex with cas to sex with anna lmao

anywayssss pls enjoy what i managed to get out sorry nobody orgasms at the end but sometimes that's life? working title is

Crash Test Dummy

Dean parked them somewhere half between the den of iniquity and the old abandoned house. Cas could’ve told you exactly where they were on Earth down to the smallest decimal, if only there weren’t so many distractions. 

When he was brought back to life — spontaneously reassembled in the same room he’d died in, in the house of the prophet Chuck Shurley — he felt different. That might have been due, he’d reasoned privately, to the sudden and pronounced absence of Jimmy Novak’s soul.

No other living angel (if you can call being an angel living) had ever experienced what he had. No other angel walked the earth without a human soul inside them.

But, sitting next to Dean, the difference was, almost, unnoticeable — on account of those aforementioned distractions.

Jimmy, too, had been very distracting at times. 

Dean was much the same. His emotions were powerful and overwhelming, washing over Cas and filling up the Impala. It seemed like they both might drown inside the thing. Why God made man to be this way — to suffer endlessly. It made no sense at all. Nothing did. 

Of course, everything was Lucifer’s fault, and Gadreel’s fault and Abner’s fault, and all the corrupt angels who corrupted man along the way. And Adam & Eve weren’t so different, after all, from Sam Winchester. But Dean?

Dean was good at hiding his emotions, for a human. Cas had never learned how — never knew that there were emotions in him worth hiding. 

But he was learning, slowly. By watching Dean.

For example, when Dean parked the car and turned to him with a smile, glancing away only to adjust the heat, then raise the volume on the tape he’d popped in earlier that day (Cas could’ve done all of that without thinking, by the way, but Dean was showing off) he was concealing what Cas recognized as fear. 

Performing joviality — which, really, wasn’t too far from the truth. But he was performing, also, an absence of fear.

He said, “So, Cas. Give me the rundown,” raising his brows expectantly, like Cas should’ve known what he meant and was already failing some test — something which determined how Dean would approach him from then on. “Chastity? Seemed like a pro. Maybe I’ll take some notes from her handbook. I’m sure she put some moves on you before you pissed her off.”

Cas furrowed his brows slightly. “I’m assuming you mean… sex… moves?”

Dean, who’d been watching him with intense focus, laughed under his breath, not even sidetracked by Cas’s awkwardness. On another night, he would have rolled his eyes or walked away. But there was nowhere to go without leaving the car.

This time, it seemed to pull him in even more. The awkward thing about Cas. The angel felt something change — some third passenger in the vehicle with them. Something unidentifiable sitting in the space between Dean’s door and the one that Dean wanted him to use.

His eyes fluttered closed as he sighed, “Yeah, Cas. That’s what I mean.” He opened his eyes and shifted a little closer — and Cas was more aware of his own vessel than he’d ever been. 

“See, myself, I’ve never been with a ‘woman of the night.’” Dean chuckled at his own choice of words, throwing his arm around the back of the bench. “Not really my style.” Dean had been with a few — they just didn’t make him pay.

“So,” he continued, his voice dropping to a volume any human would have to come close to hear, his eyes scanning Cas’s face, “I got no idea what actually went down in there. But. I can guess…”

He stroked the leather near Cas’s head. “I’m guessing she… asked you what you wanted to do, and when you couldn’t come up with anything, she figured she’d stick to the basics… Am I close?”

Cas took a deep breath — he didn’t need to breathe, before. “That’s… more or less how things started, yes.”

Dean bit his lip. Nodded. “Maybe she, uh, started touching you… I’m guessing…” Dean laid his other hand gently on Cas’s bicep, slid it down slowly until he reached Cas’s hand, and held it. “Like this.” 

The action made Cas aware, suddenly, of his clothes — Jimmy wore a lot of layers that night — and the difference in sensation between his arm and fingers. Underneath the layers and without them. 

Dean’s hand was soft — Cas had taken care, when putting him back together, to make Dean what he would have been if he’d never held a weapon. That, Cas knew by now, was never part of the mission.

The mission, Uriel pointed out once, when he was no longer Castiel’s subordinate and had a right to speak to him as freely as he always had, was only to raise Dean and resurrect him. And it was only Castiel’s mission because it wasn’t anyone else’s, and because Castiel was good at going to horrible places and doing horrible things. He was under no obligation to return to Dean with a vessel — but Dean had demanded an audience. And of course, Cas wanted to be seen.

He could have — should have — been anonymous about the whole affair. Instead he’d signed his name. Graffitied the Michael Sword. 

Not many of the other angels questioned him on that — it hadn’t occurred to them to ask. It was clearly Heaven’s mark, not his. Dean was God’s chosen, not his. It was right to let him know that he was clean, right to let him know that he’d been claimed. That his life was no longer his own. 

It didn’t have to be more or less than that, as long as nobody asked. But Uriel liked getting to the heart of things, and now he was dead. There had to be some reason for it all.

Dean took Cas’s hand and put it on his hip, letting the natural fall of their bodies draw them together. Cas could almost feel his own heartbeat quickening.

Castiel, his brothers said, was confused. Human emotions came from a dialogue between body and soul — angels had neither. The only emotions an angel should have felt were pure goodness and incorruptible devotion to God. 

As celestial beings, they transcended body and boundary. Escaped definition. A human vessel couldn’t make you confused; operating a faulty car radio couldn’t turn you into static. Castiel was imagining that he was what he was not. 

That the sickness persisted was a sign of something — angels were not supposed to have fates or destinies, ushered in by a procession of symbols and omens. Angels were supposed to be eternal. Untouched. The ones who weren’t were the ones who fell, like Anna. Like Lucifer. They were simply evil. They belonged in the pit. 

Of course, reality was more complex; it had taken all of this for him to understand.

Cas felt the squeeze of Dean’s hand over his own. “Hey…” Dean called him quietly, close enough now that his breath touched Cas’s lips. He licked his own. “I think you’re, uh…” He cleared his throat. “Messing with the music.”

“Oh.” Even though he noticed it, he couldn’t stop. 

But Dean smiled. He was thinking of jokes, but couldn’t settle on one. His voice was strained as he asked, “Did she do anything else?” He was wondering if Cas could make the whole car shake without either of them taking off their clothes. 

Castiel nodded. Dean wanted so badly for the angel to kiss him, but prostitutes don’t. 

So Cas put his hand over Dean’s lap and said what Chastity said before he pissed her off. 

“Is this what you want me to do?”

Dean looked at him, wide eyed, frightened. Cas wasn’t even touching him yet. “That’s…” Dean chuckled. His mouth was dry. What could he say? Forward? Unexpected?

He settled on, “That’s fast.” But fast was all either of them had. Cas was most likely going to die in a day. Fast was all Dean was prepared for.

Still, he brought his hand to the back of Cas’s neck, hoping that that would be enough to move him. He parted his lips, ran his fingers through the hair at the nape of Cas’s neck, and the angel surged forward to grope at his crotch. Dean looked down, gasping. “Ah.” Chastity and what little pretense she provided were long gone. He wouldn’t say her name again.

Clumsy fingers gripped harder at Cas’s neck, but he didn’t budge. A statue, after all. Couldn’t be moved unless he wanted to. Dean met his far off gaze and choked out a quiet, “Please.” He didn’t mean to sound so desperate, but there it was.

So Cas got to work moving his hand against the front of his jeans. Maybe the virgin stuff was only an act. Maybe he’d insulted her on purpose just so he could come back to Dean. Maybe he knew everything that was going to happen before it happened, and Dean was only a toy that he was anxious to retire. Maybe being a toy turned him on. Maybe that was all he’d ever been. 

But when he met Cas’s eyes again, they weren’t studying him with the alien indifference he remembered. The man before him was neither a puppet, nor a blowup doll — nor a nameless faceless hookup in a grimy bathroom. He was not a walking corpse for Dean to thrust his knife into. Not a pile of bones to burn. Not dead in any sense of the word.

Cas’s head was tilted, his lips moving silently, nervously, without his awareness. He was focused on doing a good job for Dean. He reminded Dean of himself the night he lost it. 

So Dean said what he wished he’d heard, “Yeah, Cas. That’s good. Like that.” He shifted to tangle their legs, relishing the sound of Cas’s shallow breaths. He ventured to ask, “Are you…uh…” 

Turned on? Did Cas even know what that meant? Dean decided, impulsively, to check for himself. 

Cas’s hand froze; he let out a small strangled cry. The Impala rattled with the force of his angelic arousal, and Dean realized, slowly, that he was big.

“Damn.”

“What?” Cas asked quickly. Dean rolled his hips impatiently under the burning weight of Cas’s touch, desperate to keep things moving but unsure where to go.

Suddenly, they were in Baby’s backseat, with Dean straddling him. Cas as an anchor, hands flying to either side of his waist. 

Off Dean’s confused look, he explained, “I sensed a need for more room.”

Dean laughed. “Yeah, tell me about it…” Then he sighed. “I thought I told you to quit zapping me, dude.”

“It’s easier.” Underneath that, there might’ve been an apology. Dean took it, and Cas started to loosen his grip.

Dean wanted to keep giving him a hard time — was it really that much work to open up a door and walk? But Cas looked too cute — too easy to forgive — like this, his head tipped back over the bench’s edge, neck exposed, and gazing up at Dean with a look approaching reverence. Nobody looked at Dean like that.

He felt an urge to hold Cas’s face, stroke his thumb along his cheek. But that was a doomed path. “So you like your hookers on top, huh?”

He shivered as Cas looked him up and down. It was as good as being touched, and that was bad. “…Are you my hooker in this scenario?”

Dean’s mouth opened and closed dumbly for a bit before he answered. “H-Hell yeah.” He laughed nervously again — he wanted to be suave. 

“Uh… Problem though. Our good pal, uh, Jimmy is, um, packing some serious heat and I’m not… um.” Cas looked completely lost. “God… Your dick is too big, okay? Don’t let it get to your head.”

“Is that something I’m supposed to be proud of?” he asked, genuinely clueless. 

“Uuuh… No. Some people say size isn’t all that matters — it’s what you do with what you have. I’m inclined to agree.” He found himself momentarily lost in Cas’s eyes, and thought he wouldn’t mind just blowing him and then begging him to live past tomorrow. 

“Well Cas… I said I wouldn’t let you die a virgin… Do you, uh, want me to go through with it…”

“I thought that was what we were doing.”

Dean hesitated. Something about asking an angel point blank if he could bottom — it was naughty. Naughtier than what he did with Anna, because she was already fallen. Cas still had his grace, and some small shred of purity that he might want to hold on to. 

There were steps to this. The right steps. Put down a blanket, find the right music, make grabbing for lube and a condom a romantic gesture. But Cas skipped a step by zapping them back here. Cas was still a miracle. One way or another, he was going to disappear.

Fuck it. Dean kissed him, pressed their lips together hard, ran his fingers through that messy hair of his and ran the other hand rough down his chest. 

It didn’t take Cas long to figure out how to kiss him back. Soon, he was squeezing Dean’s ass, groping his hips, pinching the back of his thigh through his jeans. Dean wasn’t surprised to find that he liked where it hurt, how the pain sent him forward, like a horse. That he wanted to feel more and nothing and for there to be a light at the end of the tunnel.

He pulled away, but didn’t give himself much time to enjoy the stunned look on Cas’s face, or the flush and swell of his lips. He pulled off his flannel and his shirt while Cas reached for him. He pulled the angel’s hair and tipped his head back more, so that his mouth opened instinctively, so that Dean could lick his tongue. It was a normal human tongue. Castiel tasted like a normal human man. None of this was untread ground. Cas wouldn’t smite him as soon as they were done. He was never that kind of guy. 

He gasped when his neck was kissed. Rocked along with Baby, with the movement of Dean’s hips. His cock pressed itself into Dean’s ass through their layers. The seat bent under them to take their combined weight. Dean thought he could probably get himself off just like that. But this was supposed to be   about showing Cas a good time for the first time.

His hand came to rest on Dean’s shoulder, and they both stopped moving. Flashbacks, for Dean, to Anna over him.

For Cas it was something older. Something Dean recognized immediately in his eyes. 

“Don’t read my mind,” Dean warned. “Your last night on Earth is supposed to be about having fun, okay?” 

He told him to take off the trench coat and lay on top of it. To leave the radio alone so he could show him Led Zeppelin even though he’d been showing him Led Zeppelin all day. He got the condom and the lube out from under the gun. And he told him to put his hands under his ass and just let Dean show him how it’s done.

He watched Dean pull his pants down. Watched his dick, half erect and slightly bobbing toward the light. Watched Dean stroke himself, and the look on his face as he did it. Watched him slide into the latex sheath and say, “This probably seems a little familiar, huh?” Castiel didn’t answer.

Dean said to himself, for Cas to see, “Look at me, I’m talking to an angel. For all I know my dick’s gonna fall off as soon as I… y’know.” But he didn’t know anything, and he didn’t know how bad Dean wanted to ride him. And Dean wasn’t gonna say. 

Dean was the Michael Sword. As long as he kept running from the angels — and as long as Sam held up his end — there was a small and awful chance he’d live forever until, just maybe, the angels packed their bags. 

But Cas… it was like looking at himself two years back. One way ticket to an early grave, no returns. For now — for the first time in his entire pointless life — Dean Winchester was gonna go wherever the Hell he wanted for as long he could. 

Cas’s ass was, surprisingly, like his chest. Smooth and almost hairless. The revelation prompted Dean to ask, looking up from between the angel’s bare legs, “Was Jimmy getting a little backdoor action behind his lady’s back? Because… the level of maintenance…” Dean whistled and gave Cas the Okay sign with his hand. “I think he waxed before he uh, let you in.”

Cas looked back at him inquisitively, then seemed to give it thought. “Um…” In the barely there light of a nearby streetlamp, Cas’s cheeks were red, his lashes lowered. 

“Don’t tell me…” Dean said. “You used to watch what he got up to behind closed doors?”

“Well…” He swallowed. “In Heaven… we watch over, um, most… human affairs, but…” 

“You sick son of a bitch,” Dean said with glee. “Well… Good thing for you, I’m no better — well.” He’d never intentionally watched people fuck without them knowing about it. But he’d done plenty of other stuff. “Let’s get this show on the road.” 

He wrapped his legs around Dean’s shoulders while he ate him out, his erection pressed against Dean’s forehead. Cas made small sounds, like he was terrified of being heard. So Dean did everything he could to make him scream. 

He didn’t. What he did do was tighten his hold on him, like a boa constrictor around Dean’s neck getting more and more vicelike the deeper he went. His hand gripped Dean’s hair, but there was nothing much to pull. Again, the music went fuzzy, and Dean had to pause to say, “Cas, if you hurt my car, so help me…” 

Dean felt something release. Cas sighed — the single street lamp went out. Dean chuckled in the dark and asked him if he was enjoying himself.

“Um…” came his gravelly voice. “Yes. Can you keep going?”

So Dean showed him how much good a human tongue can do, what it feels like to be swallowed whole by a professional. 

He could feel Cas tensing up, holding back. At least he had good endurance. So did his sister.

[korrasamibottles]

any fun facts you’d like to share about your recent fics?🤗

Hey!! Thanks for asking! This got a little long, so I put it under a cut:

Fun fact about The Heart Is A Muscle? It was almost entirely written one night around 1am after I'd seen That Art again earlier that day and it hooked its claws into my brain and literally wouldn't let me sleep. I also thought it would be a fun challenge to describe being in love without actually using the word "love" at all, but I couldn't quite hack it lmao. Sometimes there's only one right word, and I didn't want the writing to suffer just for the sake of winning my own secret challenge. And I guess once in 850 words isn't too bad!

Taking a dive into Love Bites...this might not exactly be "fun" but it's the first thing that came to mind, so I'm gonna quote two little sections of the fic:

This paragraph from the beginning

When it turned out the city's wealthiest businessman had been covertly funneling millions of yuan into the coffers of a violent militia that had kidnapped several government officials and killed two bystanders in the process, it wasn't unreasonable to wonder if he truly had been acting alone. She might've suspected the same, had her position been reversed.

And then this excerpt from about 2/3 of the way through

She hesitates before opening her mouth. "Besides, if anybody got hurt because I wasn't paying attention, I'd never forgive myself,” she says to her wrench.

Korra sighs. “Yeah, I can definitely understand that.” Asami looks up at her, sees something unreadable shuttering Korra's normally open expression before her blue eyes flick away and out toward the sea.

Asami takes in Korra's profile, the subtle, barely-there slump of her shoulders, and something cracks open in Asami's chest. Korra's so carefree it's easy to forget that what she does is dangerous.

And so is the ocean.

“Yes, I imagine you would,” she says finally, and when Korra turns to look at her again Asami offers her a soft smile. Warmth blooms in her chest when she receives one in return.

It's such a quick, quiet thing, over in the span of a few heartbeats, two twisted bits of scar tissue exposed and exchanged for one another, but it leaves Asami feeling laid bare in a way she doesn't think she's experienced before. It's not uncomfortable, exactly, more terrifying and exhilarating in equal measure. A bit like hitting a hairpin turn at a high speed and not knowing if you'll make it to the other side.

I spent a long time toying with that scene because 1) giving them an emotional connection in addition to a physical one was really important to me, and 2) I wanted Korra to have some kind of depth beyond Being Hot. It was tricky, since them being complete strangers brought together by their jobs coupled with the fic being from Asami's POV meant we really didn't get much opportunity to see inside Korra's head.

They're both carrying a lot, just like they are in canon. Asami 100% blames herself for the deaths of those two bystanders, convinced that if she'd figured out what her dad was up to sooner she could've fixed everything (she couldn't have). Similarly, Korra holds herself responsible for an incident at the beach several years ago in which a man drowned, and she feels deep in her bones that if only she'd reached him a second sooner, he'd still be alive (he wouldn't).

I kept this interaction brief and vague because I didn't want to take too big of a detour away from Silly and Horny, but to me it was a pretty significant scene. Within the span of just a few moments they understand each other on a much deeper level, and in a way nobody else really does. It's also something I want to explore in more detail in a future fic set in this AU (I'd like to make this a series👀)

That fact was kind of sad so here's a nicer one: in approximately 10 years Varrick will be convicted of tax fraud (and widespread wage theft as well as a whole host of workplace safety violations, but it's the taxes that really get him) and Asami will buy back the old Future Industries tower for less than Varrick originally spent purchasing it💅

[surrealisticduvet]

Album Review - The Prison: A Book With a Soundtrack (1974)

The Prison - Michael’s first album to be released under his own record label, and the first album maybe ever to be released with its own novella. The Prison’s concept is hard to explain (you either over-explain it or over-simplify it) but in a nutshell, it is about a man (interestingly named after Michael’s second son) who lives in a prison which he discovers is not real - he can walk out at any time he likes, and the prison will fade away. This is an allegory for the troubles of society; when one is entrenched in it, it is real, and constraining; when you leave, which you can do at any time, at great personal cost, you discover that it has been, all this time, a fabrication. The book itself is very interesting, but this review is about the album, and the music it contains; let us begin.

Favorite parts of the album:

It’s clear, between the album itself and the way he spoke about it, that this was a monumental production for him. It’s very different from his previous work, and much of his post-Prison work is influenced by it. The lyrics are very strong and poetic – which makes sense, considering that writing was his focus with the book. The instrumentation is wonderful too (I love the guitar and subtle pedal steel - yes, of course Red is on this record!). although the higher level of production can make it sound a little stiffer and more impersonal at times (compared to, say, And the Hits… where he did a huge chunk of the playing himself). I don’t think the album suffers for that, however - it’s a soundtrack, so the production is perfect. 

“Dance Between the Raindrops” is probably the catchiest song on the album - starting here, and continuing in other tracks, is the trend of using a subtle background melody to drive your reading along. Amidst the lyrics and the music itself, it’s easy to get a little distracted at times, but having that baseline to keep you grounded is nice. This happens again in “Hear Me Calling,” where he utilizes a sort of “Tumbling Tumbleweeds” western shuffle deep in the background of the song. (He uses this again in the next album I’ll be reviewing – I’ll rave about it then.) 

“Walking Mystery” is another hit in my book (to be clear, none of these songs are “hits” - they would never make good radio songs, except perhaps on an easy listening station.) It has a mystical, ethereal quality and ambiance, which is again wonderful for reading along. This song and a few others almost have a touch of that dreamy 80’s synth - six years before the decade rolled around. 

Overall, the album flows beautifully, and is in fact long enough for you to read the whole book while listening. Which brings me to my critiques…

Critiques:

It may be my fault, for rushing out of fear that I’d run out of music before I ran out of pages – but in fact, it was the opposite: I finished reading long before the album ran out, and I certainly didn’t digest it well enough. Having read through once, I ought to go back and savor it this time, reading slowly and feeling the music throughout. I do believe that while reading, you miss a little of the music (I enjoy it much more when I listen on its own), although Michael said that if you’re experiencing this issue, you might just need to practice. That could be true – or maybe the songs just aren’t as memorable as some of his others. Perhaps; they weren’t made to be stand-alone hits (he had to change “Marie’s Theme” quite a bit for it to sound like a standard track on the Ranch Stash re-release), and they’re not as easy to sing along with as the rest of his discography. 

My next critique is about the book itself, which isn’t very fair to the music, but they are intertwined – it’s very theoretical and a little preachy (a symptom of his present state), which doesn’t ruin the experience for me, but I see why it wouldn’t necessarily be critically acclaimed by a casual listener/reader. Oh well. 

Finally – and this is the big one – Michael here is entering his “hamming it up” era, which gets better as the 70s fade out, but never really gets cured. For some reason, there are many lines which he sings in a half-spoken, comical manner, something that would be natural for “Mama Rocker” but absolutely not for a lot of these songs and those that he performs live or on other albums. (This phenomenon is extremely bad on Live at the Palais, which I’ll get to in a few posts…) I guess it doesn’t ruin the experience for me, but it does make me cringe. 

Conclusion:

I truly wish that, first of all, we had a recording of the ballet (?!) that was performed for this album (if I remember correctly from Infinite Tuesday) and that, second, he was not so insecure/embarrassed about this album in the years after it came out. In live performances he apologizes for making people listen to songs off of it (albeit surely half-jokingly) and teases himself about the outro of “Marie’s Theme” (that it repeats 602,417 times at the end so you have time to catch up on some reading, etc.) 

Overall, The Prison is not my favorite album of his ever, although I do really appreciate it – it’s just not one I tend to listen to often. But I think it was a very important one that paved the way for a lot of his later work - a definite timeline shift. His later work was obviously influenced and inspired by it, and it seemed to be a culmination of what his earlier work was leading up to, philosophically (if not so much musically - sort of separate schools going on there – but he was all about that sort of unexpected, conceptual genre-melding approach to music… and that’s why we love him!)

[joyfulexchristian]

hey! i love your work so much, i think you're doing amazing things and i always look forward seeing your posts on my dash.

i was wondering if you'd consider doing a post/sharing your thoughts on the concept of "being in the world but not of the world." it's something that's been on my mind lately, the kind of simultaneous victim/superiority complex that idea could potentially inspire. some verses related to that idea are 1 John 2:15-17 , John 15:19 , and Romans 12:2 .

in any case, i hope you have a fantastic day--you have no idea how important your work is, not only to me but countless others too.

Hello! I am so touched that you find my work meaningful. Thank you for sending this in! It's a fascinating subject and a lot to unpack (after all, it's the whole world we were asked to give up).

As a former fundie, the anti-world messages in these verses hit me pretty hard. They remind me of the years I lost to the faith and the paths I didn’t take. It's strange, because these verses felt so run-of-the-mill when I was a Christian. Of course I was not of the world, I was merely visiting this planet and I would return to my heavenly father once I passed his earthly test. 

I was told as a Christian that the secularization of society was a direct attack on our way of life, that “the world” wanted to replace all of the things that I valued with cheap knock-offs. Sex instead of holy matrimony, prideful independence instead of relying on my heavenly father. I had a very us-versus-them mentality where the "us" was guaranteed to win in the long game of eternity. I won't lie, I felt superior to secular people when I was a Christian. But the trick was, I didn't think that the superiority belonged to me, it belonged to the Christian god. It wasn't me who was better than other people, I was just letting my god protect me from the pitfalls of an earthly existence. If there was goodness or glory in that journey, it did not belong to me. It all belonged to him. It was a “get-out-of-pride free” card.

I had been sold this idea that the world was against “us.” I didn't notice that that hadn't been true for quite a long time. But most of the people around me were acting as if they were still in danger of being persecuted by some modern equivalent of the Romans. The persecution complex was strong, but entirely baseless. Because living in a multicultural society is not the same thing as persecution, even though they were treated as one and the same in my fundamentalist community.

I didn't want to notice that it wasn't loving to ask people to give up their whole lives. I had inherited this ancient contract that told me that I could gain an eternal life. All I had to do was give up everything. I was supposed to treat the world like a den of vipers, to regard everything earthly as garbage, and to live as if I was born in heaven's waiting room. There was no negotiation and the details that I did have were quite hazy as to what that eternal life would be like. And I was supposed to give up the only life I’d ever experienced for vague promises, sight unseen.

As a fundamentalist, I took the sacrificial mathematics of Christianity for granted. Our sacrifice mirrored Christ’s own– it's a compelling story. And I can see how it's attractive for people who crave the purpose, belonging, and freedom from suffering that Christianity promises. But I'm not ready to give up on this life and on this world for an incredibly shady deal. I don't believe that the only way we can be good people is by handing our lives over to someone who does not allow us to have informed consent in an eternal contract.

We deserve to have a connection with this world. We know that this life is real and ready for us to participate in. And if someone wants to separate us from the world, then they'd better be ready to tell us, in detail, the conditions of that contract.

Otherwise, I'm going to go ahead and love the world and the things in the world as long as I'm alive.

links, glorious links

[crguang]

Hi, I've been reading your fanfics lately and I've become obsessed with your writing! I'm not good at English so I keep to myself.

I wanted to share my feelings, because I think you should know what a great job you do! Not only did you make me have a different perspective on Kafka, you also made me see character development more clearly! (I also write a lot, and it's one of my difficulties.)

It's incredible how his stories gave me an addictive feeling, something I haven't seen in any other Kafka fanfic! Please keep it up!

In fact, I have ideas in my head about how Kafka would react to R's death? Or what exactly would make her cry? I wonder, and I think your point of view would be quite accurate.

first of all, don’t worry about your english!! it’s great, and it’s not my first language either so i understand the struggle. thank you for your kind words i cant believe my writing has inspired/helped you in any way, im especially happy it changed your mind about Kafka hehe. trust meee i understand how tough characterization is, i focus way too much on the details and it can get pretty frustrating. i take it seriously too, so when something doesn’t go my way or i can’t portray a scene the way i see it in my mind, i lose it a little bit.

ouhhh, kafka and death is a pretty intimate affair in my opinion. she deals with it all the time but we don’t know if she’s experienced it— she sees suffering as something euphoric, fascinating. we know she doesn’t care for her victims because of it, that and the fact that she’s following what she truly believes is destiny. if it was their destiny to die by her hand, why would she mourn? i think it would take a lot to make her cry, she’s very resilient and can withstand a lot + she doesn’t feel fear and there are lots of complex emotions born from it (anxiety, dread, panic) so in my opinion she’s not very attuned to these as well. i’ll expand on the “not feeling fear” thing because its absolutely insane; its a primal instinct that makes us do or not do so many things. it’s connected to so many other emotions— we feel sad because we fear losing people, we feel helpless because we fear not being good enough, etc. kafka wouldn’t be able to understand all of that in a visceral way. we know she worries to an extent (for the trailblazer, for blade) and that also stems from fear but so far, it’s been somewhat superficial. she checks up on them like once and that’s that. here again, following and believing in a scripted future makes it so that she doesnt have much to worry about. it makes me believe that she would often realize things after they’ve happened, like “oh, i don’t like this…”

losing someone she genuinely cares about might paralyze her, at least at first. death doesn’t obsess her because fear is self-preservation and she cant feel that. she is logical though, and knows not to put herself/others in certain dangerous situations. she doesn’t fear her s/o dying, she just knows she doesn’t want it to happen. what she can feel though is sadness, and that only happens during/after the fact. grief is soo complex, that’s why i think it would paralyze her afterwards— she’d feel this immense loss that she hasn’t prepared for, and kafka is rarely caught by surprise. she wouldn’t know what to do and her logic won’t save her; so many things don’t matter when you’re dealing with emotions that feel all-consuming, she knows death is inevitable, so what? she knows this was always a possibility, so what? that doesn’t tell her how to deal with it. she’d go through the motions as usual because life didn’t stop for her but she’d have this constant tightness in her chest like fingers curled around her heart. the tears would find her on a tuesday morning as she’s cleaning her gun or putting on her boots. to me, her feelings have a little lag; she doesn’t feel apprehension much so they would have to hit her afterwards. in my most recent fic im writing about her being a player for laughs but i still make her fall for the reader at the same time they fall for her, she just realizes it way later. this is long as hell im so sorry but to sum up i do think she would cry a lot because she almost never does and her body would need the relief.

im yapping im sorry😭 your question was super interesting and it really got me thinking but let me stop lmfao. i hope i kinda answered it along the way😭

[dramadramallama]

Love Supremacy - brain rot part 2

As Myung-ha rejects the idea of a predetermined fate, he sets off to change it for Yeo-woon, who’s mirroring him in every way. When we first meet our Myung-ha, we also meet the most mysterious character of the show. Is it Death? A guardian angel? God? Whatever it is, he knows more than Myung-ha, and has some wisdom to share. Thus, a sunbae. 

The fact that he is represented as some sort of Author is not lost on me, but I do appreciate that his identity is vague enough to be interpreted many different ways. No religious connotations, no punishment, no judgment, we cheered.

In theory, Myung-ha finds the idea that some people just don't live happy lives unfair. He doesn’t like the story’s ending (he doesn’t like his own ending either, as he regretted it in the last moments) so he sets off to change it through this new opportunity (the Game). When asked, "would you do things differently, if it were you, then?" he unequivocally answers that he would, that he would make it happen differently. Looking back, it’s clear his sunbae is not asking hypothetically. The underlying conversation is obviously about his own life being re-written, not (just) Yeo-woon’s. 

1. Mirrors/Symmetry ▶️2. Fate, Free Will, and Happiness 3. Game/Reality

So in theory, he’s all for doing things differently, but in practice, though, it's not that easy. He’s struggling not to make the same mistakes, which is represented with the in-game instability. When Myung-ha makes progress, when he both shows love and accepts it in return, the game (life) is able to go on in spite of the glitches.

Golden moments keep us going, literally.

After experiencing some system errors, some setbacks, his sunbae comes back to the rescue with some more not-so-hypothetical questions.

Through the lens of a loving relationship, he hopes to show Myung-ha that the choices we make out of despair are still our own (free will). It’s a direct parallel to Myung-ha deciding to cut his life short (break up, no pain, no hard feelings), instead of living longer (delaying it, enduring the hurt, getting scars, coping with regrets). 

Myung-ha is not quite ready, and has trouble understanding what is being implied. Because he hasn’t reached a state of self-love, he unknowingly doubles down on the fate he’s assigned himself once, and chooses to repeat it. 

He chooses to give up (again), he chooses to avoid the suffering (again), which he associates with unhappiness. It takes just as much courage to live as it does to die, and happiness doesn't exempt you of pain, but Myung-ha doesn’t know it just yet. He falls back into his old habits, and symbolically gives up staying longer in the game (of life), worried about Yeo-woo’s happiness more than his own. 

After working tirelessly to get Yeo-woon to happiness, and becoming the reliable person Yeo-woon can lean on, he hits the wall of his own contradictions. The relationship is uneven, the choice too biased. The gap widens, the fragility of the whole thing is apparent: the game is bugging, as Myung-ha doesn’t align his needs/desires with his actions/reactions. 

Not only does he refuse Kyung-hoon’s and Yeo-woon’s offer to lean on them (he hurt his leg following a system error), he also struggles accepting his own feelings. In spite of the time running out, he fails to tell Yeo-woon he loves him properly, retains important info about himself, and breaks up with him in the exact same location where they share their first kiss (loud wailing sounds of poetic cinema)

Myung-ha’s core issues are bursting out in the open (increasingly alarming error messages appear): because he doesn’t let himself be loved, he can’t love properly. Because he can’t lean on others when he needs it, he fails to be there when it matters. 

Myung-ha misguidedly keeps choosing a sad ending for himself when the whole game, his whole life, is fighting to give him a happy one.

That’s not to say his entire journey until now was in vain. In fact, Myung-ha is incredibly resilient (child...❤️), and opens himself to change at the end. He’s just missing a piece of the puzzle for it all to fit into place. It is, in fact, quite a big pill to swallow that happiness doesn’t happen to you passively like destiny, but instead is something that you actively choose. Hell, I struggle to even comprehend or believe it, tbh.

The game being littered with questions, answers, and possible choices/options is a visual representation of our everyday pondering, and choice making. What goals are we setting for ourselves? Myung-ha's sunbae is there to remind Myung-ha that if we refuse the existence of fate, then we should make use of your all-powerful free-will. 

At first, he blindly runs towards the game’s main goal--happiness--and doesn’t realize you can’t find it at the finish line. If he only wants happiness for someone else and not himself, why would he get a different ending? By the end, he learns that happiness can, possibly, be found on the way there, though.

The hand, the love he extends to Yeo-woon one-sidedly in episode 1, he accepts it when it is returned in episode 8.

The story comes full circle, but doesn't repeat itself; he gets a different ending through a new start.

From a pure stylistic standpoint, I'm obsessed with repeated lines/motifs in media because they give a lot of rhythm to a story. Like a poem or a song.

The story reaches its final stanza, he listens to himself, and resolves the error, his own contradictions. He found the will to fight for happiness, a way to love himself, chooses to stay longer, chooses Yeo-woon, chooses to maybe suffer along the way a little, but he chooses life. 

Notice how the question does not have Myung-ha's answer this time. Now, we choose.

Life is not an express lane, and if you're short 5,000 won to take the bus, or if the bus breaks down on the highway, you might have to fight and make a run for it. It'll suck. But it's not in vain; you might just get rewarded with the happy moments you created for yourself. Myung-ha does.

It is such a hopeful, kind, gentle message.

I am alive too.

[sl-newsie]

Query: Q x 00 Agent- Ch. 1: New Instructions

Sometimes people get what they want. Life provides them with loving family, a warm home, and assuring comfort. That can make a person lazy if they take it for granted. Other times, life gives you the short end of the stick. I will never get what I want. But you learn to live with that when you’re a 00 Agent.

It’s not that I’m unhappy serving my country. A true British patriot at heart. However my loyalty always seems to falter when my country never seems to reward me in return. Granted, my life could be a boring job with me trapped behind a desk. Instead M let me be a field agent, despite me being the youngest trainee. I’ve only been an official 00 agent for a year, but I’ve learned as much as what an ordinary soldier does in a lifetime. M did say that Bond, Agent 007, is the best of the best. And his teachings have proven just that.

But I guess even Bond gets unlucky sometimes. When he got shot in the field it took a harder hit on his mind rather than his body. The older agent seems to have re-thought how capable he is because I keep hearing rumors about him taking a desk job, which is what both him and I refer to as the MI6 talk for retirement.

Right now I'm returning from the training room, my abs practically melting from all the push-ups I’ve just suffered through. I hear a grunt from the shadows, and turn to see 007 rubbing his chest where the bullet struck him.

“How is it today?” I inquire softly.

He gives a dark chuckle. “Not one of my better days, Levie.”

My nickname. I’m 0011, so he calls me Levie. He must be having a bad day.

“I’m sorry, Bond. I truly am.”

“I know. Sorry for being so gloomy, but I get an excuse.”

I nod and go to sit on a nearby bench. “I don’t blame you. It doesn’t help that-”

But I cut myself off before I go further. This is beginning to stretch into a conversation I’d rather now venture through, but now Bond is suspicious.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Tell me.” He steps closer. “What?”

I sigh in defeat and look down to avoid his piercing gaze. “It doesn’t help that at your age, chances of recovery are less flexible.”

Bond takes a minute to digest these words, then huffs. “You saying I’m old?”

“I’m saying you're experienced.”

“Between you and Mallory I’d think I’m becoming an old man. Now that you’re here, walk with me.” Bond gestures for me to follow as he starts walking towards the offices. 

MI6 is far from what I’d call exciting. Unless there’s an emergency, the office space is normally tame compared to the world outside. I follow Bond to the elevator, where he informs me he just had a meeting with M.

“I’m about to be assigned a new mission. More than likely you’ll accompany me, as usual. I’ve even got a new Quartermaster. Sounds like you do too, from what M tells me.”

Um, yay? I guess this new one can’t be as bad as my old one. He was very old-fashioned in his thinking and always thought I should have never been promoted to 00 status because of my age.

“Is he good?”

Bond chuckles and turns to meet my eye. “You’ll like him.”

“Why?” I ask, slightly intrigued.

“You’ll see.” The elevator dings and Bond steps out into the hall leading to the vehicle depot. 

“When will I meet him?” I call out.

He turns to give a quick wave and answers: “He’ll find you.” 

Then the door closes, leaving me to ride back up to await my next instructions. Once I’m on the top floor I head to the roof access stairs, stepping out into the cool air for some time to think. Ever since that list of names has been leaked, my mind’s been far from easy. Not that I have anything to lose if I die, but death isn’t really something I’d planned on yet.

“0011?” A voice comes from behind.

I don’t even turn around, still staring at the Londoners walking about below. “Hello, Eve. Got any good news for me?”

Eve’s a few years older than me, which gets her a bigger pull in the workforce. People expect her to be responsible and me to be naive. But she, along with M, treat me as any other agent, which I am always grateful for.

“I am told to tell you that you are to meet your new Quartermaster in exactly 2 hours at the Blixen.”

My breath catches. “Hm. Isn’t that a bit much for a first meeting?”

“M chooses the locations, not me. You’re lucky she didn’t send you to a stuffy museum like she did with Bond.” Eve grips my shoulders and gives me a pointed look. “Wear something nice. Remember, no fighting at the dinner table. This is an adult matter.”

I roll my eyes at her teasing and we both start laughing. 

“I’ll find something, no problem. My apartment is basically a fashion warehouse.”

“I’ve always wondered why you chose a tiny apartment. With your payroll you could do much better.”

I shrug. “No one to take up space but Cricket and me.”

Eve rolls her eyes. “Your cat has become your boyfriend.”

In my line of work, the term ‘boyfriend’ hardly comes into the radar. People sometimes get what they want, sometimes life has other plans.

Eve must mistake my silence for nerves regarding tonight’s meeting. “Don’t worry. You’ll be fine. He’s nice.”

For some oddball reason, her encouraging words feel more like she’s preparing me for a date rather than a mission briefing.

[xsoulxsilencex]

There is almost something funny in seeing how most people on tumblr are really upset about what Yuamu and Yuga are doing and then I check other places where people are actually happy about what's going on?

One side is angry at Yuga, hates Yuamu's decision, call it bad writing, nonsensical etc. while the other side says stuff like "girl boss Yuamu", "Go Rush is cooking/peak" and "this is what Yuamu's character needed".

Ngl, I'm somewhat in the middle:

I really wouldn't call the recent events as "peak fiction" and I still feel like this is a weird way to involve Yuamu in the arc final + potentially explaining why she's not on the season 3 poster. I don't buy her being Otes at all. At least not the one we saw in Sevens. I don't even really see what would be so great about her being Otes? Like is it only cool because a girl could potentially be the previous show's central antagonist? Also Yuamu empathising with Yuga could've been done better imo. Just saying that the ep where they landed in Goha City as cats was like the "starting point" for her feels random and not really like it was built up properly. At least to me. Also not sure how people seem to easily forget/forgive Yuamu's irrelevance over the season just for what she's doing now. The writers do nothing with her until now and suddenly she's cool again because she sides with Yuga?

But I will also say that I don't hate Yuga for doing what he does. I mean, Yuga experienced what bad shit Monster Reborn caused in his time. He doesn't want a repetition of that. And I think for us it's easy to say "well, screw the future kids, the Velgearians matter more" since they don't exist in GR. They aren't characters we saw interacting with Yudias and co. We got to know the Velgearians so their deaths hit us harder and we want them back since what happened to them was just not fair. But it's not like Yuga is happy about letting the Velgerians stay dead. He would've gladly helped reviving the Velgearians if he knew a way that doesn't involve the use of Monster Reborn. After all, why would he have helped Yudias, given him a deck and duel disk and even dueled at his side if he didn't care at all? Even Yudias and co. don't think he's just evil by doing what he does rn. And well, Yuga is just 13. A 13yo saying he will become the enemy just to save the future is kinda crazy. Yuga actually cares a lot up to the point he wants to solve everything on his own so others don't suffer/get hurt. That's how he was in Sevens too. And ngl, that annoyed me a little even back then. (Luke called him out for that once too) He means well but needs to understand that it's okay to take help. Btw: I've seen people angry at Yuga and Yuamu only caring for the kids and implying that adults are bad? Tbh, I don't think they really believe that since in both, Sevens and Go Rush, we had some adults playing Rush Duel and having fun with it. I think it's more about adults influencing the game so much up to the point it's only fun for them but not the kids anymore. So when Yuga wants dueling back in the hands of children, he probably means that they should have fun too and not just the adults. Maybe he and Yuamu could've phrased it better but I never took it as "kids are cool, adults are evil so RD should just be played by kids".

I still believe that in the end, both the future and the Velgearians can be saved so I don't feel like arguing with any side here. Both make points I can understand but I also feel like some get either over emotional or just blindly call everything awesome.

[saint-bestial]

vent, discussion of pet death (and death in general). i've been hesitant to talk about it because i don't really like to hear "i'm sorry" or pitying responses. but i just need to get it out there i think.

i took my childhood cat to be euthanized saturday night. she had been steadily declining for a while but seemed stable up until that day. she was so off, we could tell she didn't have much time left and that what little time she did have it would be even more painful. i made the call to not wait until morning. i knew i couldn't make her wait longer. i was really hoping she'd go on her own at home but i didn't want to risk her dying process being drawn out and full of suffering.

i held her in the backseat of the car. she didn't scream like normal, she was quiet the whole time. usually she hates the car. i think she fell asleep until we got there. she didn't scream at the vet either. her passing was as peaceful as anyone could ask for.

i've experienced the death of a pet many times. it comes with growing up in a house surrounded by lots of animals. we've always had at least three cats and two dogs at any given time. but none of their deaths ever hit like this one. we had a bond and it was special and transcendent. i love my other animals but it's clear it's not on the same level. in her almost 19 years of life we were practically inseparable. i remember being a kid spending the night with my grandparents for a few days and being upset because i couldn't be with her. when she had to go to the vet for a surgery and stay for a few days it felt like forever too. she comforted me on some of the worst days of my life.

i've never even grieved a human loss as hard as i grieve for her. i didn't cry when i'd lost people i'd known my whole life. but for her i've already shed so many tears. i feel like someone's plucked an organ out of me. i don't think i've ever loved anyone or anything as much as i do her. it sounds horrible but before she went the thought of her death hurt more than thinking about how i'd feel if my own boyfriend of several years died. she was a vital part of my daily life. and now there's an absence, a void. i dread the day i can no longer remember what she sounded like. i dread the day my fingertips forget what her fur felt like.

last night i watched a video and it said something to the effect of "love is a loan we take from the universe and grief is the debt we pay back" and it's true. but i don't mind so much. i'm glad that i got to have her in my life at all. this sadness, the size of the hole in my life is proof of how much she meant to me. i don't know if i'll ever get to experience that kind of bond ever again but i'm glad i got to experience it even just once. i'm so lucky to have had her in my life.

[vaehbae]

Peace. Quiet. Calm.

Ezra Bridger could only have dreamed of such things during his time as both an orphan, and during his time in the Rebellion. He may have experienced some of it while isolated on Peridea, but this was something he preferred more.

The view of Lothal's capital city was something that literally came from a dream. He remembered first seeing it vividly alongside the spirits of his late parents during the night he learned of their deaths. However, the dream became a reality.

The galaxy was indeed shaken following Thrawn's return, but over the past few months, the tactical genius was no match for the stubborn will of New Republic military officials, and the famous Heroes of Endor, whom with joined hands of the Heroes of Lothal, turned the tables and put Imperial Remnants to route once again.

Regardless if there was nothing safe or sacred, it was a much deserved moment of relief Ezra wished he had earned earlier. For all the strife, fighting, and death that had to resume over the desire of totalitarian madmen who wanted to reclaim control over the galaxy and restart their ideas of suffering, the best thing he could do was live for all the good people that were lost. And for a very important reason...

He had been entranced by the shining and bustling beauty of the previously envisioned city when Sabine Wren -- his wife joined his side on the balcony. In her arms, the artistically destructive Mandalorian held a still bundle in her arms. Their ninetine month old daughter, Mira Wren-Bridger.

"Everytime I see you come out here, it's like you're always distracted by something that isn't even calling your name." She quipped. Sabine sure knew how to deliver sassy remarks, even after her life changed through marriage and motherhood.

"It's a good sight to go to sleep to." Ezra replied innocently, giving off a small chuckle when he felt his longtime best friend elbow him on the side.

"Well, I don't blame ya. I remember you mentioned seeing this after realizing what happened to your parents."

In the past, Ezra would have felt a tang of pain hit his heart about such a cruel and unfair reminder, no matter the wording, but he knew he was no longer the only one to have lost family after Sabine vented to him about her Clan getting slaughtered on Mandalore.

"It's not just that anymore."

Sabine looked over at him with a questioning gaze at his comment, making sure she still maintained a fair grip on little Mira in her arms, and so that the baby would not be awaken and make a fuss.

"We've made it happen, Sabine. All of us. I know deep down, my mom and dad would've been proud to see this. Right now, however, I just don't think I could ever thank you guys enough for helping to achieve this."

"As a Mandalorian, I don't take even the smallest of promises lightly. And as much as it's exhausting to bring up... you were counting on me at the same time."

That phrase had become very synonymous with Ezra's faith in his longtime best friend, and he already knew that when she brought him home, her promise had been fulfilled. There was truly no better person than Sabine that he could ask to ensure such things were sought through to the end, and he would never have it any other way.

"And you've kept your promise, Sabine. Thank you." He told her, turning his head to meet her gaze as his lips curled up to a warm smile. That smile was shared as they kissed briefly, before finally retiring inside their tower for a good night's rest.

Ezra was still unsure what new challenges awaited him for the future, but with Sabine by his side, he felt more at ease and ready to face them head on.

It felt like I just had ASMR cleanse over my brain cells reading this. It was so nice and welcoming oh my goodness. All the stress of the final episode just washed over me with this beauty!

Thank you for submitting! Genuine, It's the perfect amount of everything but not too overwhelming and so freaking cute!