#being self employed is a blessing and a curse

[call-me-pup2]

Stayed up all night to work but heck do I finally feel focused! I've felt like I've just been scraping by doing the bare minimum for the past month so I don't want to throw away this opportunity to get really well caught up!

[ohnoitstbskyen]

PINNED POST, FAQ, INFORMATION

Hi, I'm TBSkyen. I make videos on YouTube sometimes. This is my main tumblr blog, the "brand" blog as it were. I also have a sideblog called @tbposting which is for shitposts and reblog spam and the occasional funny observation.

You can find me in most places online as TBSkyen.

Here's my Bluesky: https://bsky.app/profile/tbskyen.com

Here's my main YouTube channel: https://youtube.com/@tbskyen

Here is my short-form YouTube channel: https://youtube.com/@tbskyenshorts

Here's my rambly spam-and-reactions channel where I will spend an entire whole hour frame-by-frame gushing over cool animation and such: https://youtube.com/@3bskyen

And here's my Linktree where all of those links are collected and easily accessible: https://linktr.ee/tbskyen

About Me

I am a thirtysomething content creator whose primary expertise is character design.

I have a bachelor's degree in English, never finished my master's, did most of a bachelor's degree in history, and that's it. These are my academic qualifications, no more and no less.

My professional experience is primarily being a freelancer and self-employed creator. I spent the better part of a decade working as a commission artist, running webcomics, drawing fanart, and the occasional animation work and not safe for work commissions, and I have at this point a decade of experience and self-study in the subjects I cover. I have also done online community management for, god help me, almost twenty years, so that's a part of my skillset I'll never escape.

I do not have any particular professional creative industry experience, although given what I hear from my professional friends, sometimes that seems like a blessing.

Please maintain a critical distance when engaging with my work. I am a critic. My work is very rarely meant to be taken as authoritative or didactic, and when it is, I will make it clear in my writing. Just because I speak with confidence doesn't mean I am trying to assert objective truth.

---

TAGS (to follow, or filter)

#tbanswers is the tag for every single ask I answer on this blog

#tb reblog is the tag for reblogs

#tb essay is for the occasional longer essay or critical writing

#tbvideos is for my videos and Content™

#tb recommends is for the occasional recommendation of a video essay or other creator

Yes, I know the spaces are inconsistent. It's not on purpose, I just typed them in haphazardly when I started using them and it's stuck.

---

FAQ (before you ask)

Q: Will you ever do a video about ____ ? A: The answer to this question is almost universally "maybe someday, if I have time, and if I feel I have anything worthwhile to say." And the more realistic answer is "no, because I already have far too much on my plate and I have burned myself out too many times." In general, please don't ask me this question, I will most likely not answer it because I have given the same answer a thousand times, but I still feel guilty about not answering them.

Q: Will you continue your series of videos about ____ ? A: Yes! I will continue the let's plays I started, I will finish the Boss Designs series, I will do another What's the Deal With, I will do more shorts about the subjects I've got going on. The main obstacle is, again, my tendency to overload myself.

Q: Do you have a PO box? Can I send you something? A: Not yet, but I'm looking into it. It may be a while before I get it set up.

Q: Do you have merchandise? A: A little bit, yes, at crowdmade.com/collections/tbskyen

Q: What's your opinion on [game/movie/comic/book/etc]? A: I struggle to answer very open, broad questions like this. Most things I have opinions about, I have multiple opinions, and different ones depending on the perspective and specific element in question. I'm much more likely to answer specific, bounded questions.

Q: Can I send you fanart? A: PLEASE. Askbox, tag me on bluesky, send it to my email! I love seeing every piece of it!

Q: Why do you never appear on camera? A: A forest witch cursed me to look not quite but ALMOST like Paul Giamatti in all photos and videos ever taken of me, and his laywers sent me a cease-and-desist.

Q: Are you gay/straight/bi/other? A: The decision I've made for myself, at least for this period of my life, is that privacy is precious, and once given up can never be reclaimed on the internet. I am open about being aromantic (not asexual), because it's a sometimes invisible and underdiscussed identity, and I know it would have helped me a lot to see someone speak about it when I was younger.

The rest of it is for me to know, and for you to speculate about, although preferably somewhere I can't see it. I accept that this is a part of being a Personality, but it still feels weird, y'know?

Q: Is it weird if I find your voice kinda hot? A: I've put a lot of work into developing this voice and making it nice to listen to, so that's not weird at all and I find it quite complimentary, thank you.

I generally don't mind people doing flirty/thirsty posting about or at me, just so long as we all understand that 1) you should never give a stranger like me information which could be used to harm you. Nicer-seeming YouTubers than me have turned out to be monsters.

And 2) it will never go beyond playful online flirtiness. I like to fluster my live chat, I'll flirt back in an ask or a post maybe, but I am not flirting with you, or inviting any kind of closer intimacy with you, the person I responded to.

Think of me like a comedian doing crowd-work at a show - you can chat to me in the bar after the show, but when I asked you what you do for work I wasn't looking for a personal connection, I was doing my work as an entertainer. Please no sending me nudes, or propositions, or confession letters in my email inbox. We are strangers, and I am always performing a persona in public.

[hyvyinjie]

DESTINY.

TW! cursing, death.

angst! centric.

g. satoru x gn. reader.

DESTINY. that capricious force akin to the bittersweet conclusion of tragic fates, had long since wielded its cruel hand.

yet, amidst the delicate interplay of life and death, a singular anomaly emerged—satoru gojo—an irresistibly peculiar being adorned with gifted endowments bestowed by the very heavens themselves.

he, the self-proclaimed harbinger of destiny's blessings, carried within him a profound sense of purpose and significance.

alas, it is a lamentable truth that even the possession of such a grandiose title holds no power to rescue or shield those in need.

forlornly, we witness the bitter reality that the mere proclamation of a lofty designation cannot serve as a panacea to alleviate the trials and tribulations of others.

"don't even try closing your eyes."

young, naive and foolish. the honoured one beseeched, his countenance etched with an unmistakable worry—bereft of the customary shielding of sunglasses that customarily veiled sight of his otherworldly irises of azure.

his resplendent eyes—now bared—gleamed with a mesmerizing confluence of sentiments.

it was an unprecedented spectacle, witnessing him so palpably anxious and emotionally invested.

deep within, he harbored a profound remorse, cognizant of his inability to employ a reverse technique—that elusive skill—to aid you in this despair-induced juncture.

"shoko's on the way. she'll heal you."

"quit being so damn stubborn and listen to me."

he assured confidently, his typical arrogant utterances suffused with both conviction and hope.

yet, as he spoke—it appeared as though he inadequately grasped the gravity of your state or purposefully averted his gaze—fixating instead upon the illusory prospect of an inevitably fruitless convalescence.

no, you’re not dying.

he mindlessly repeated to himself—as if caught in an bewitching refrain that echoed ceaselessly within the chambers of his delusions.

the words—like a hypnotic melody—entwined themselves around his thoughts, weaving a tapestry of false reassurance.

in the grip of his illusions—he clung to this fragile mantra, desperately seeking solace in its rhythmic cadence.

yet, deep down, a flicker of awareness whispered of the truth obscured by his fervent repetitions.

reality—unyielding and immutable—loomed ever closer, despite his desperate attempts to stave it off with a haunting refrain.

with a blend of earnest gravity and feigned jocularity—despite the quivering timbre of his voice—he appended,

“don’t you dare die, or ill never let you live it down.”

his eyes bore into yours with an unwavering intensity that seemed to penetrate the tumult enfolding you—unveiling a vulnerability he seldom divulged to others.

in that gaze, the tenacity of his resolution and the profoundness of his connection to you became palpable—as if the burden of your well-being rested solely upon his shoulders.

“live it down, you say?..”

a desiccated chuckle escaped your lips as the wretch persisted. how imbecilic could this fool possibly become?

“satoru..”

not long after, your body convulsed with a fit of coughs triggered by the mere act of speaking, the fragility of your condition became starkly apparent.

yet, even still—it was unmistakable that he clung to denial, unabashedly rejecting the unassailable truth.

yes, you were dying—indeed, you were teetering on the precipice of demise.

there existed naught but remorse and lamentation.

"stop talking! for fucks sake, y/n—“

he inhaled a tremulous breath, as if seeking composure amidst a tempestuous tempest raging within his soul.

his eyelids clenched shut with an ardent fervor, as though he were frantically endeavoring to elude the clutches of reality in one final, desperate gambit.

“please—just..”

“just listen to me, and do as I say. please.”

with each uttered word, a sense of desolation burgeoned, casting a somber shade upon his countenance.

“y/n..”

yet, these words bore a weight surpassing mere despondency. every syllable dripped with a venomous essence, tainted by a profound self-abhorrence that seemed to turn inward.

it was as though his very voice had transformed into a conduit for self-loathing, a vessel through which frustration and disillusionment coursed.

he berated himself for completely contradicting his egoistical claims.

he despised—loathed himself.

he detested his own folly, castigating himself for what he perceived as a feeble inability to lend aid. the underlying contradiction between his self-aggrandizing proclamations and his actual capabilities stoked the fires of his self-directed animosity.

within the depths of his being, an infernal tempest raged, a battlefield of inner turmoil where he grappled with the demons of self-hate. the echoes of his own voice reverberated, seemingly magnifying the intensity of his internal strife, amplifying the magnitude of his self-loathing.

he loathed the hold you have on him, stirring up a storm of emotions within his being. the turmoil you evoked within him was a source of deep resentment.

but above all else, what he despised the most was the inexplicable extent to which he cared for you.

he despised the fact that, despite everything and anyone else, he couldn't help but like you, adore you, and ultimately choose to love you.

the intensity of his hatred stemmed from the realization that his heart had chosen a path that he had not intended to follow. he resented the vulnerability that loving you exposed within him, and the power you held over his emotions.

in the depths of his inner turmoil, he grappled with conflicting emotions. while he may have wished to resist and deny the depth of his feelings, the truth remained that his heart had made its choice, despite his best efforts to resist it.

this contradiction between his hatred for the circumstances and his genuine affection for you created a profound inner struggle, intensifying his frustrations and exacerbating the complexity of his emotions.

it frustrated him, angered him even, that his emotions had become entangled with your presence. the vulnerability that accompanied this caring, this attachment, felt like a weakness he resented.

in his innermost thoughts, he grappled with the paradox of his feelings. the profound disdain for the impact you had on him clashed with the undeniable truth that his heart held a deep and unexplainable affection for you.

it was a conflict that gnawed at his core, leaving him torn between his aversion and the undeniable pull of his care.

"oh?..what have we here...”

despite the gravity of your state, you conjured the wellsprings of fortitude to articulate phrases—effectively jolting him from his reverie, as he clung to your every word like a vital thread. each syllable echoed with a poignant cough, reverberating through the fragile contours of your agonizing form.

the inexorable verity loomed, an inescapable specter—your grievous wounds would inevitably claim your life, a harsh reality especially within the realm of sorcerers from which there was no evasion.

and so, in a hushed whisper, your voice tapering off amidst another bout of coughing, the violence of it serving as a stark reminder of your vulnerability. yet, deep within, you harbored a profound cognizance of the path that lay ahead.

"satoru gojo... of all people.”

you provocatively taunted, your words imbued with both resignation and a trace of sorrow.

in that very moment, you apprehended the cruel irony of their circumstances, the whimsical caprices of fate that had entangled their lives. the weight of your impending fate pressed upon you, and you couldn't help but ponder if it would elicit any emotions within him.

"--are you going to cry?”

with a subtle curl gracing the corner of his lips, he meticulously observed every movement, every flicker in your eyes, and every breath you took. he made a conscious effort to etch each detail into the recesses of his memory. It seemed as though you possessed an uncanny ability to perceive his emotions with remarkable clarity, despite his best efforts to conceal them.

however, as his expression shifted to one of solemnity, a faint trace of melancholy colored his features.

the question you posed had struck a deeply personal chord within him, one he never anticipated having to confront.

your words resonated within the sixteen-year old male, his unwavering gaze fixed upon yours. a sense of anguish mingled with the realization that you, y/n, had seen through him like an open book.

unable to suppress the tears that welled up in his eyes, he swiftly brushed them away, striving to maintain a composed facade.

"no, of course not.”

his response emerged, delivered with the expected composure and confidence. yet, a glimmer in his eyes betrayed the facade, hinting at an inner turmoil that consumed him.

the conflicting emotions etched upon his countenance, the raw sorrow intertwined with resolute determination, were familiar sights you had come to recognize during your time together.

at the very least, he had been stirred by the irony of the situation. but what lay beneath the surface?

his lips curved into a solemn smile, though his eyes conveyed a different tale altogether.

he couldn't help but smirk slightly in response to your teasing, his unwavering irises never once straying from your perfect ones. how dare you utter such words...

you managed to elicit a smile from him, causing his typically smug facade to momentarily contort into a faint frown, though his expression swiftly returned to its customary coolness.

the gravity of your condition had not escaped the impact it had on the sorcerer standing before you. however, it appeared that the full severity of the situation seemingly had yet to fully dawn upon his young fellow. and with mere moments remaining before your impending demise...

"me? cry—over you? what a joke.”

he retorted, pausing momentarily. his smirk faltered—as if on the precipice of speaking with a tone devoid of jest—as if the barriers he had erected had momentarily crumbled.

"do not flatter yourself. tears may suite me, but I don’t need that amplifying my perfection.”

regardless, his voice remained low and harsh, devoid of the usual playful edge and trademark amusement that characterized his interactions with you.

though the expression in his eyes remained unaltered, a certain stiffness was evident in his speech, as if he were still uncertain where else to direct his overwhelming thoughts and emotions.

as he continued to observe you, a solemnity settled over his previously neutral features. you could sense his burgeoning grief, his thoughts racing against the inexorable passage of time, yearning desperately for even the faintest glimpse of a solution.

his response was a feeble attempt to mask his emotions, his voice quivering, and his eyes still shimmering with unshed tears.

though his words denied it, his body language spoke volumes.

his pretty cerulean irises glistened with unshed tears, his heart pounding in his chest. he had anticipated her demise for far too long, believing he had grown accustomed to it, deeming it an inevitable outcome.

but now, as your final breaths escaped your lungs, the weight of your departure struck him with the force of a thousand bricks, reality seeping in for the first time. he had failed. his overwhelming pride and hubris had blinded him to the possibility of defeat. he had failed his long-time peer—his classmate, his friend.

the weight of failure bore heavily upon him, for he believed he had let down the one person who held the most profound place in his heart—the one he cherished above all others romantically, the soul he held dear.

the depth of his love for you only amplified the agony of his perceived failure. he blamed himself for not meeting the expectations he had set, for not being able to provide the happiness and fulfillment you deserved. the pain of falling short in your gaze was an unbearable burden he carried—leaving him haunted by the knowledge that he had failed the one person who truly held his heart.

"...yes, i am going to cry, you idiot."

contrary to his perception, it was not you who struggled to accept your fate, but rather, it was he who clung to seemingly everlasting denial.

while he grappled with the reality of the situation, you had long since come to terms with the inevitable outcome. you had made peace with the circumstances that destiny had dealt, finding solace in the acceptance of what lay ahead.

the dichotomy between your acceptance and his denial created a rift, deepening the emotional chasm between you.

despite your readiness to face the truth, he remained entrenched in a state of refusal, unable to confront the impending reality.

the exquisite interplay of sentiments, wherein the embrace of acceptance magnified the enigmatic dance between your emotional odysseys, illuminated the paradoxical tapestry of contradictory.

eager to traverse the expanse, he yearned to forge a bridge, yet were ensnared by the magnetic allure of diverging destinies—proximity rendered illusory, a poignant dance of nearness and seeming remoteness.

while your hearts may have harmonized in tempo, the dissonant discord into the fabric of your emotional realms served as a haunting refrain, a vivid reflection to the divergent trajectories of your conclusions.

if only the revered one possessed the authority to sculpt fate with a touch of influence, weaving threads of destiny like a master artisan shaping the sinuous hell of time.

[wiz-writes]

Codex #1 - Magic

I said I would post stuff about the world, so here it is - the first entry in the Aesemyr lore corner! If there's anything you'd like to know more about next, let me know :)

Magic has been a part of the world since its inception - ley-lines criss-crossing the lands, somewhere denser in quantity, somewhere almost non-existent. This shifting web of energy has been dubbed "the Flow" by those who are able to channel and utilise its power, the mages.

Mages are not very common and different parts of the world consider being born as one as either a blessing or a curse. In current-day Lyyra, mages are highly valued and often attain high positions in return for service to the kingdom. However, that wasn't always the case. Over a hundred years ago, magic was seen as an ill omen and thus, had been outlawed for centuries. Practitioners of magic were killed on sight or hunted down by families specialised in eliminating mages. Only with the discovery of Ruun and a change in leadership, have the anti-magic sentiments eventually been suppressed. Some of the mage-hunting families have prevailed until now, instead pursuing dangerous criminals and fugitives.

Mages can be divided into three groups. The first one is those who are able to sense the ley-lines and magic in general, however, that is the extent of their powers. Every mage is born like this, but if one's magic doesn't manifest in their youth, it never will. Despite their lack of the ability to channel, these people are still well-regarded and oftentimes find employ as researchers.

The second group is the actual mages who can access the Flow and draw power from it. Depending on their training and talent, they can manipulate the energy that surrounds them to take on various forms; be it the elements, pure force or an uncanny influence over one's mind. They are equally respected as they are feared, and rightfully so. A mage can be a deadly weapon.

The last group of mages is quite rare and what sets them apart from the others is their ability to see and directly control the ley-lines. In Lyyra, these mages are called "Menders", because they also tend to Ruun stones located in a number of towns. Some Menders never fully grow as they are driven mad by what no one else can see.

Of course, being a mage has its own limits and drawbacks as well. Firstly, if one cannot manage the amount of energy they draw in, they can meet a very painful end. Magic is extremely volatile and can easily backfire on its user. Secondly, even the smallest flame requires a person's full focus. Great feats of magic need time and commitment, as one cannot run before one can walk. Lastly and most importantly, all power comes at a price, and magic is no different. Given its unstable nature, it progressively corrupts the body until one is nothing but a shadow of their former self. This is called "magical necrosis" and it is the main reason why few mages live past the age of fifty.

[albaitross]

AU / Persona & SMT — Excerpt:

Aliases: May ; Mae Flower

Real Name: Mei Li Circletti

Age: 21 (physically) ; ??? (reality)

Species: Nephilim (half-human, half-angel)

Connections: Puriel (mother) ; Cain/Abel (father) ; Eve (grandmother) ; Lilith (great grandmother) ; Lucifer/Helel (great grandparent)

.

Abilities: Astral-projection, dream-walking, divination, demon summoning, witchcraft & spellcraft, knife skills.

Weapon: Fans ; Knives

Element: Light/Bless ; Dark/Curse ; Psy ; Almighty

Alignment: Chaotic Neutral

.

Persona: - Kassandra (default) - Bai Long (alternative) - Lucifer (ultimate ; true default)

Arcana: - Justice / Judgement (in primary alignment) - Death / Devil / Tower / Aeon / Suit of Wands / Suit of Cups / Suit of Swords (in secondary alignment) - Justice / Judgement / Aeon / House of God (as a SL/Confidant)

Appearance:

A young woman with an equal mix of Western-Eastern features, though primarily leans to the latter in appearance and tongue. Has shoulder-length black hair and black eyes that may flicker to an inhuman red on certain occasions - be it an accidental slip of power, purposeful intimidation, or a complete removal of the minor glamour she puts on while mingling within human societies.

Usually dressed in loose, comfortable clothing typical of modern and urban human civilizations - and this can, genuinely, range between very casual but normal clothes or a literal pajama set. Comfy is king, truly, and so is the notion of being utterly strange and utterly underwhelming alike.

That said, this is merely the image she presents for humans. Should the veil be lifted, or her soul manifesting itself out of her body, she takes on a slightly different form - the grungy clothing replaced with an elegant black qipao, her hair growing out and decorated with golden accessories, and of course, the bright red eyes that can peer through falsehoods as much as it can curse the world with karmic mania.

Personality:

A person with a straightforward yet eccentric attitude, cheerful but not necessarily pleasant while accompanying her.

That said, considering her usual disheveled appearance, she can nonetheless come across as lackluster and boorish in spite of her oddness - especially with her general habit for ignoring polite norms and saying/doing whatever the hell she wants, be it something silly or poignant or a little too honest for polite company.

But that's an act more for humans and strangers, really. A veil to discourage any further peeking, though at the same time, she will drop more than enough hints that there's more to her than the thin veil - it only takes a honest inquiry and a bit of her self-evaluated trust for her to stop with the facades.

Beneath the mask—that, can be considered her true self (though, not the truest; human nature is just like that), where she discards the lazy, simplistic and quirky persona for someone far more perceptive and wizened to the workings of the universe, resulting in someone a little more serious, contemplative, and potentially very biased to resignation and bitterness - though, no less prone to tonal whiplash, as her strange phrasings only worsen with an addition of eloquent, metaphorical speech.

In the end, the only thing that doesn't change throughout is that, no matter what, she will be frank. Surely obtuse yes, but truthful.

A person so very familiar with wearing masks of her own - yet, always striving to show what lies behind it.

Background:

A woman employed within the media industry in some format, looking for truth and fiction, the mundane and the interesting alike. Even so, despite her zealous interest in random affairs, that doesn't particularly translate to journalistic or publishing fervor - quite the opposite really, as she only performs the bare minimum for her job and keeps all the stories for herself.

Whether this is out of some flipped ideal of sympathetic privacy or more selfish motives... well, it depends on the situation and her mood at the time of question. Sometimes it's one or the other, both or none.

Sometimes, it's because at the end of the day, this is all a passing engagement. Something to while the hours away, something to disguise herself with as she mingles and settles into whatever human world she's residing in for the time being.

And it usually will just be for the time being - for she's not as human as she appears, half her blood bearing a cursed holiness; her parentage is decidedly human, angelic, both and damned altogether, resulting in an existence that is loathed by a third of the universe, coveted by another third, while the rest of the cosmos ranges between blessedly unconcerned and annoyingly nosy about what she is and what she's up to.

Goodness, all she wants is some peace and quiet in a nice apartment, and maybe not be forced to move around every so often. Maybe, because after the centuries of being chased after by the forces of Law and Chaos for their never-ending arguments, she's not a very optimistic person anymore.

[dev-the-dm]

Creature: Smoke-Cursed

"It was a horrific sight to see," the elderly man croaked, tears in his eyes, rubbing the back of his hand with crooked, wrinkled fingers. "They- They were reduced to naught but ashes, and yet - the act itself would not be their end, as they rose again, but this time many, and screaming, and howling in agony as if their very souls were ripped from their beings."

Followers of the Regth-Koth. For the distant, evil entity Regth-Koth, its followers are nothing but ants crawling for its own attention, and it feels no love and no affection towards anything but itself. A group of cultists that, in their dedication and thoughtless worship, mistakes the attention of Regth-Koth for a blessing from their master, may find that some things were not meant to be understood by mortal minds. Regth-Koth hates self-obsession within the ranks of its followers, and although it likes to see them crawl over each other to reach its own aberrant heights, it reduces those who have proven themselves to be too self-servient to a cloud of agony and pain, and creates a smoke-cursed.

Perpetual damnation. Smoke-cursed can also be created through the intervention of other divine or semi-divine creatures, although their appearance is low and the punished act must be severe. Smoke-cursed are perpetually caught in their own pain and suffering, an amalgamation of many souls damned in the same place, merging and twisting together in a ghost-like, otherworldly entity. A smoke-cursed has no motivation or intentions, but is so engrossed in its own agony and suffering that it only wishes to relieve itself by forcing that pain on others. It has no physical touch, but the sounds emitted by a smoke-cursed are maddening enough to make the bravest warriors flee. Smoke-cursed haunt their original homes, whether that be the lairs they once worshiped their dark masters in, or whatever battlefield that caused their combined, instant deaths.

Aberrant nature. A smoke-cursed doesn't require air, food, water or sleep.

Friends and companions. Smoke-cursed are sometimes employed by the very cults that become them, if a cult worshiper manages to avoid the destruction of their master. For dark cults that follow aberrant entities from beyond the veil, and whose cult followers are prone to narcissism or self-worship, it is not uncommon to see more than one smoke-cursed contained in an air-tight room, only to be set free when the lair is invaded or the cult needs a sacrifice.

[distracteddegenerate]

I'm sorry if this annoying but can I please get a little fanfic with the inumaki forget idea ? Sorry if this werd English isn't my first languag

Not annoying at all anon, In fact I really like this idea of yours. (Also your English is pretty good so don’t worry!) Hope you like the fic!

CHARACTERS: Inumaki Toge x Female Reader

WARNINGS: Smut, Dark Content, Noncon, Yandere, Manipulation, Mind Control/ Brain Washing, Cunnilingus

Minors Do Not Interact! 

1.5k words

It was comforting, the fluff of ashen white hair that lay on your shoulder, the morning light seeping in from behind the slat blinds cascading a bright shimmer over the expanse of the snowy tufts. The individual strands were dusting your skin feather-light, tickling against you in the sway of every meager intake and exhalation of breath escaping Toge’s mouth.

You had known Toge for years now, and although you couldn’t truly remember how you even came to know him in the first place, he had effortlessly situated himself in the spot of one of your nearest and dearest. You found that his earnest silence brought you solace, words that he could not convey through sentence instead being understood through the knowing glances and expressions you had come to share with one another, the fluency of this mutual language only strengthening with the passage of time.

Now was one of those blissful moments of comfortable, knowing quiet. domestically lounging around your apartment during a day off, lazily giggling at some meme compilation in unison while leaning against one another on the settee. You couldn’t think of a better way to spend your time, this cozy sphere of amenity that you had constructed with Toge an apt repose from the outside world.

Whilst you were lost reflecting on your rosy blessings, you were suddenly brought back to reality when you felt the weight of toge’s head lift from your shoulder, turning to meet the familiar gaze of inquisitive violet eyes peering at you from behind off-white tresses.

“Are you okay, Toge?”

“Mustard Leaf.”

The response, that usually implied he was doing fine in the small dictionary of onigiri vocabulary he had come to employ.. Didn't feel genuine, to say the least. His irises were blown wide, registering your countenance as though he was trying to gleen some hidden information from your inquiring squint, when Toge began to lean further over you. You turned the front of your body to look at him directly, though you were steadily inclining your spine backwards in your perplexion at Toge’s unusual advancement.

He soon had draped his entire upper body over yours, hands reaching around your frame to press into the sofa to support himself as his face drew dangerously close to yours.

“Toge?” A heat was rising in your upper body. Sure, you and Toge were incredibly close friends.. But this was a little too much for your liking. You pressed your palms against the jut of his shoulders and pushed slightly, though with no true force. Blushing, you faced away from him, trying to announce your discomfort at his invasive approach. “T-toge.. This is a bit too-”

“Don’t move.”

And sure enough, compelled by some otherworldly force to entertain the command, you had stopped moving in your tracks. It didn’t take long for you to figure Toge had used his technique. Like a deer trapped in the headlights of an oncoming car, your body froze statuesque while conflicting eyes beamed alive, frantically searching for the reasoning behind the cruel fate that was racing towards you.

An uneasy feeling settled in the pit of your stomach at the sight of his lips pulled tight, his usually bright irises murky with shadows of deception. Something awful was afoot. His deadpan look in conjunction with the preceding events told you this was no prank, swiftly realising that your trust in him had been irredeemably breached to the point of fear at what was coming next. Your body twitched as you strained under the spell that had been cast on you, helpless to the plummeting feeling of the safe structure of friendship you had built with Toge coming crumbling down around you.

Your fears were proven genuine when Toge’s hand began reaching forward, coming to rest on the curve of your hip. You tried to communicate with your eyes, begging for him to stop and to just think about what he was doing, but he paid no heed to it. In fact it seemed like he was ignoring your glare, focused on the task that lay at his palms. He began deftly inching your bottoms down over your pelvis, panties and all coming to a halt over your thighs, just above your kneecaps.

It was then that he shot you a glance of what seemed like sorrowfulness, as if he was fully aware he was enacting something cruel but thought it necessary. Perhaps like how a farmer would look at lame animal before putting it to rest. 

Still, you were broken away from the horrid thoughts and back into a harsher reality when Toge had begun ripping the aforementioned cloth even further down your legs until they reached your calves. Shoving his hands between your thighs, the pads of his fingers pressed forcefully against the flesh and separated the limbs till they spread wide. You were completely exposed, the open air cutting a chill against your privates.

He traced his fingertips over your slit, with whatever wet, however slight gathered up in it’s trailing wake. He looked you in your eyes when he brought the digits to your clit, as if looking for a reaction when he began grinding his forefingers against the sensitive nub. Unable to do so much as flinch away from the offensive touch, you mentally grit your teeth as you felt that aching bundle of nerves scream against the assault. It felt painful, at first. You were so unprepared for the sudden encroachment on your most sensitive parts, It made you want to recoil in on yourself completely, though there was nought you could do in protest.

Toge began occasionally lowering his fingers to reach directly into your core, drawing out the little slick you were producing to mercifully rub it over your clit. The lubrication meant his ministrations were less painfully direct, his motions transforming into a light flutter that felt traitorously gratifying, an unwarranted heat beginning to pool in your stomach. Your body was disobediently reacting to his touches with craving, and it made you want to hide away forever but unfortunately you were rendered completely unable to escape the explicit display you were being forced to partake in. 

You felt his warm breath exhale humid air over your cunt, when you noticed from your frozen position that you couldn’t see Toge’s face any more, only the top of his alpine locks as he lowered himself further over your pulsing heat.

You knew what was coming, but you still inwardly lurched with shock at the swiping of that lithe muscle over your aching bundle. The feeling made you throb with hypersensitivity, the combination of the attention that area had received earlier now with the sudden sensation of Toge’s wet mouth lapping at you desperately causing your entire pussy to twitch around his tongue in a chase for release.

Dragging and dipping his emblazoned tongue over and between your sopping folds, he came to plant his mouth directly over your clit. He sucked over it with such vigor his cheeks completely hollowed, rolling your nub between his lips whilst deft fingers aided in your pleasure as he continued to pump them in and out of the sticky apex of your crotch. 

He worked at you for some time, steady in the intensity of his applications. It wasn’t long before the sensations grew too much, pussy clenching around his fingers as you reached a climax, flood gates swinging open as you gushed helplessly over his face.

He stayed where he was for a second, before rising. When his pale face came into view, you took in the sight of your own slick washing trails down his chin, the purple tattoos it overlay on his cheek glistening prismatic in the light the sun cast over it. He looked wild, salivating at the maw, sparkling amethysts settling an intense gaze into your own eyes which were vacantly still trying to work through the thralls of your orgasm.

Yet, fear sparked them alert with dread when you saw his mouth drop open to speak once again.

“Forget.”

Even in that split second of recognition you had before your memories had been erased for (unbeknownst to you,) the umpteenth time, it was enough for an intensely visceral stream of consciousness to flood your thoughts. You realised intuitively Toge was never really the person you thought he was, and you wondered how many times you had been used like this. How much had happened, how much had you been subject to by his cursed technique. Just how much was real in that domestic setting that you had been experiencing before it all came crashing down like this.

***

If only you knew just how much of your true self had slipped away. With your hands wrapped around his cock once more, The sunset and rise beginning to melt away at the edges into a haze of warm gradients was just a pretty sight to you, the concept of time becoming irrelevant to you as you settled into your life as an ignorant hostage.

Extra Notes:

Yeah so this kinda became a fucked up version of 50 first dates.. although now that I think about it I guess 50 first dates is pretty fucked up? Also god writing a character who hardly speaks is so hard in fic format;; I guess enjoy the challenge though

[characternerdocs]

3 and 5 (unusual and/or prying character q's, for emery)

Unusual and/or Prying Character Questions ||| @chickypoodoodloos

3. What is something your muse won’t admit to themself, or hasn’t yet realized about themself?

Emery don't want to admit that she can be weak and vulnerable. She does know that, but she doesn't want to face that.

She doesn't like to ask for help, cause the last time she did, she got employed by Beeyel which was a can full of curse labeled as a blessing.

Not being in control of a situation scares Emery, she need to have a level of power all the time so she keep herself from feeling helpless. She had to keep a strong front all the time, nobody can see her with her guard down.

5. What kind of first impression does your muse give off to people just meeting them? How does this change as people get to know them better?

On first impression Emery comes off as a sassy, overly sexual bitch. She jaded and has a sharp tongue, and has not mercy with said tongue when it comes to reading somebody to filth. She also comes off as easy and very promiscuous, which is true, but is more of her hunting technique. But... something is also not. Not many person last long enough to get to know her well, whether that's because Emery has purposely tried to drive them away, cause she doesn't like people getting close, or because Em main befriend people to make them a meal or a "friend with benefits" which is heavy on the benefits and very very low on the friendship.

If a person can befriend Emery, they'll find that their first impression is right! She's sassy and sexy, but that's all to cover up her vulnerability, loneliness, and her extreme self-loathing. If you get close to her, you'll find she a very loyal friend and she will go on the attack for you and protect you tooth and claw, literally. Even if you don't approve of it, she will literally tear anyone apart for you... if they're that sorta of threat... or if she's hungry. Two birds, one stone, ya know? If the individual messing with Em's friend just need to be taken down a peg or two, she'll just give them a brutal critic that would murder anybody's social standing.

Thanks for the ask, Chicky!

[mybeautifulchristianjourney]

Devotional Hours Within the Bible

by J.R. Miller

Pilate Sentencing Jesus (John 19:1-16)

Pilate's portrait is hung up in the gallery of the world's great criminals. His is one of the names which never will be forgotten. The incident of the scourging is one of the darkest blots in the story of that terrible Friday. Pilate claimed that he could find no fault in Jesus, and that He should be released - yet, hoping that it would satisfy the Jews, he ordered Him to be scourged. The scourging must be considered as a part of Christ's sufferings as the world's Redeemer. The shame and indignity of being tied like a slave to a whipping post and then beaten until He seemed dead, we never can realize, for, thanks to the softening influence of the religion of Christ, such treatment even of the worst criminals is now unknown in civilized lands. There is, however, a word in Isaiah which gives a fresh meaning to this part of Christ's suffering. "With His stripes we are healed" (Isaiah 53:5), says the prophet. The peace we enjoy is ours, because the rod of chastisement fell upon Him - because He was smitten. Our soul's diseases are healed, their wounds made whole, because the body of Jesus was gashed and lacerated by the horrible scourge!

After the cruel scourging came the crowning with thorns and the mockery of Jesus as a King. "The soldiers twisted together a crown of thorns and put it on his head." We ought to look with great love and reverence at the picture - Jesus the Son of God, our Savior, standing there in the midst of heathen soldiers, mocked and insulted by them. We know how truly He is a King, and what a glorious King He is.

When the crusaders had captured the Holy City, Palestine became an independent kingdom. Godfrey, of Bouillon, was made king of Jerusalem, and it was proposed that he be crowned with a golden crown. But Godfrey's noble answer was, "I will not wear a crown of gold in the city where my Savior wore a crown of thorns."

It is a sweet thought, too, that because Jesus wore a crown of thorns in the day of His shame - His redeemed ones shall wear crowns of glory in the life to come.

In one sense this mock coronation of Jesus was very significant. Was He really ever more a King than when He was enduring His cross? All through John's gospel we have seen that Jesus spoke of His going to His cross - as His being glorified. His cross really was His throne. It was on the cross that He fought the great battle and won the great victory of redemption. The cross was the ladder that led up to His throne. His crown of thorns, too, was fitter for Him than a crown of gold would have been, for He was the King of sorrow ; He reached His glory - by His sufferings; He saved His people - by dying for them. He is adored and worshiped now as the King who has lifted men up by His own sorrows and blood to eternal life and blessedness.

Pilate showed pitiful weakness at every step in his dealing with Jesus. He knew there was no sin in Him, and yet he brought Him out to the people and surrendered Him to them. "Behold the Man!" Our eyes should be fixed upon Jesus as He stands there in the presence of the multitude. On His head - is the crown of thorns, and around His torn and bleeding body - is a purple robe, mock emblems of royalty. Behold the Man! Behold the Man enduring shame and contempt, set forth as a spectacle of mockery, that He might be presented at last in glory, and honored before angels and the Father. Behold the Man, reviled - yet reviling not again; hated - but still loving on; cruelly wronged - but speaking no resentful word. Behold the Man, the God-Man, wearing humanity, the Son of God humbling Himself and becoming obedient unto shame and death - that He might save our souls! Behold the Man, holy, sinless, undefiled, separate from sinners - yet bearing upon His own head as the Lamb of God, the sin of the world.

The only righteous thing for a just judge to do when he finds his prisoner innocent - is to set him free. Pilate brought Jesus out to the people - but said plainly, "I find no fault in Him." Nobody could. Nobody ever did. The rulers tried zealously enough to find something that they use as a pretext - but they found nothing. They tried false witnesses - but even these could not agree in their witnessing. Now the keen Roman judge inquires into His character, into His life, into His motives - but finds nothing against Him. No other man has lived in whom no fault could be found. The holiest men have sinned. But Jesus was absolutely sinless. Why then did He suffer as a sinner? We know well the answer. They were our sins that they laid upon Him. "Christ has redeemed us from the curse of the law, being made a curse for us" (Galatians 3:13). Christ also has suffered once for sins, "the just for the unjust, that he might bring us to God." "Who His own self bore our sins in His own body on the tree."

We never should forget this. In these days perhaps there is a tendency to forget the sacrifice of Christ, in thinking of His salvation. Between us in our curse and our blessing - stands the cross of our Savior. He was wounded for our transgressions and bruised for our iniquities. Let us praise the grace that took our sins, that we may stand whiter than snow before the throne of judgment!

The silences of Jesus are always as significant as His words. He was silent to Pilate. He understood Pilate's weak insincerity. Pilate had had opportunity enough to do the right thing for Jesus - but he had thrown away His opportunity. Now Jesus would answer no more of His questions. One lesson we must get from this silence - is that if we reject Christ's offer of mercy and grace over and over, the time may come, will come, when Christ will be silent to us. And of all calamities that can possibly ever come to any soul - none could be so great as that Christ should be silent to its prayers. "Then shall they call upon me - but I will not answer; they shall seek me early - but they shall not find me" (Proverbs 1:28).

Another lesson we may learn from Christ's example, is that there come times in all our lives, when silence is better than speech. Often to words of reviling or to insult - silence is the only true Christian answer. To many of the assaults of skeptics on our religion and on our Lord - it is better that we remain silent than that we speak. There is a time to speak boldly and without fear in the presence of Christ's enemies - Christ did speak several times in reply to Pilate - but there are also times when we should keep silence, attempting no answer.

Pilate tried to compel Jesus to answer him. "Don't you realize I have power either to free you or to crucify you?" The answer of Jesus is very clear. "You would have no power over me - if it were not given to you from above." No man's power belongs to himself, to do with as he pleases; it is given him from God, the Source of all power. This is true of the authority of parents and teachers, and of the power possessed by civil magistrates. Men are eager to obtain positions of power, and they do not always realize the responsibility which is attached to such positions. Power belongs to God, and must be used for God, or its misuse will bring its sore penalty. It is a talent which is given to us to be accounted for, and no treason is worse than malfeasance in the employing of power. This is true all the way from the power of the child on the playground or in the home, up to the power of the president of the nation or of the king on His throne. "You would have no power over me - if it were not given to you from above."

There is another sweet thought suggested by the words "against me" in this sentence. Christ in this world was under the protection of His Father, and no one on earth could lift a finger against Him but by the Father's divine permission. What was true of Him, the Son of God, is true of each one of the sons of God in all their earthly life. Each believer, the humblest, the weakest, is kept in this world as the apple of God's eye. No one can lift a finger to touch one of God's little ones, except by divine permission. This shows how secure we are, amid all the world's dangers and enmities, while we trust ourselves, like little children, in our Father's keeping.

When Pilate ceased His weak efforts to have Jesus released, saying to the rulers, "Behold Your King!" they cried out, "Away with him, crucify him!" Thus they finally rejected their Messiah. We read at the beginning of John's gospel that "He came unto His own - and His own received him not" (1:11 ). The whole story of His life was an illustration of this rejection of Him. Wherever He went they received Him not. Here and there a home opened its doors to Him, and now and then there was a devout heart that made hospitality for Him - but these receptions were so few that they could easily be counted. Crowds of the common people thronged after Him, and many heard Him gladly - but very few became His true disciples. Even on Palm Sunday, five days before He died, there was a vast multitude to cry, "Hosanna!" and wave palm branches; but soon the palms lay withered in the streets, and on Friday only cries of "Crucify him!" were heard in the air. "He came unto His own - and His own received Him not."

It is the saddest event in all history, this coming of the Son of God to this earth, bearing in His hands all divine and heavenly blessings - but finding only shut doors and shut hearts, being compelled to take away His gifts because men would not receive them. We read this old story and wonder how His own people could have treated Him so; yet how is it with us? Do we treat Him any better? We do not cry, "Crucify him!" but we shut the doors of our hearts in His face and keep Him out. We reject and refuse His gifts which He comes all the way from heaven to bring to us. We may not with angry voice exclaim, "Away with him!" but in our hearts many of us do keep Him away.

The struggle had ceased, and "Pilate delivered him therefore unto them to be crucified." He first tried every way to avoid the issue; then he temporized, hoping in some way to evade the responsibility. At least he yielded, and his name goes down through history pilloried forever, as the man who delivered Jesus to be crucified, knowing and confessing that He was free from any crime. He was known in the world by no other act. Surely it is an unenviable notoriety. It had been a thousand times better for him if he had never been horn, or if he had remained forever in quiet obscurity, instead of going to that high place of power in the land, in which he had to meet and deal with this most monentous question of history.

We read in one of the Gospels that Pilate took water in the presence of the people and washed his hands, thus by symbol declaring that he was not responsible for the sentencing of Jesus to die. But the water did not wash away one particle of the stain of the guilt of that terrible sin! Pilate had the misfortune to be the only man in all the province who could send Jesus to the cross. Upon him, therefore, the final responsibility rested, no matter the pressure that was brought to bear upon him by the enemies of Jesus.

Just so, the fact that others urge us to sin - does not take away our guilt for that sin. No being in the universe can compel us to do wrong; if, then, we do wrong - the sin is our own. True, Jesus said there was one other whose guilt was even greater than Pilate's - that was the high priest. His sin was not only that he himself was determined to do wrong - but that he dragged others with him. We remember that the rulers replied to Pilate's act of washing his hands, "His blood be on us and on our children!" (Matthew 27:25). No one who has read the story of the next forty years can doubt that this self-imprecation was fulfilled. Forty years later, thousands of the people were scourged and crucified. The crime of the rulers was successful - but what came of the success in the end? Let us learn that sin brings always terrible woe, and that the worst of all sin - is sin against the Lord Jesus Christ.

[anjuschiffer]

Spellbound

More self indulged writing :D

My first LWA (Little Witch Academia)x Maribat fic... Enjoy!

------

Tag: @theatreandcomicfreak @damianette-is-life

------

AO3

------

An F.

Marinette screamed into her pillow as she kicked her legs in frustration. 

Another F to add to her long list of exam grades. Another F despite the countless nights Marinette stayed up to study and practice the little magic she knew.

Sure, she wasn’t blessed with the talent of Kagami nor that of Chloe’s, but that didn’t mean Marinette deserved to fail.

She bleed, sweated and cried to earn her spot at this school, her first choice school despite her parents wanting her to stay in their hometown and help at the bakery. 

But she didn’t want to be a baker. 

She wanted to be a witch. Just like Chariot. 

So, she made it her goal. 

She fought against her parents’ wishes to achieve her dream, of following it.

She earned her place at Luna Nova, the most prestigious wizard school in all of Europe. 

And yet… why was the universe so against her being here?

Despite getting in with one of the highest scores, Marinette now had the lowest ones in her grade and she honestly didn’t know why. 

“One more F and I’ll get expelled.” Marinette muttered out loud, laying on her back, staring at the underside of the bed above hers -  Alya’s bed. “One more mistake and I’ll be proven myself wrong.”

If she failed, it would give her parents a reason to tie her down to their bakery. She would’ve proven them right. That she wasn’t up for the Magic life, even though she claimed she was. 

Marinette felt the lump in her throat, her vision blurring as that thought echoed within her mind.

“No! I can’t give up!” Marinette told herself, getting up a bit too quickly, bumping her bed as she got up, Tikki humming at her in concern. 

“I’ll be fine Tikki.” Marinette told the red faerie hovering beside her. “I just need more practice.” 

Grabbing her textbook, her wand and some emergency energy, Marinette stuffed them into her bag, slinging in over her attire. 

“I promise to be careful and be back before dawn. Wouldn’t like the professors catching me again.” Marinette petted the faerie, opening the window of her dorm room to go off to her favorite spot on campus to practice. 

She can’t give up yet. 

It was still too soon to call quits. 

Her fate hasn’t been sealed. Not yet. 

-

“Where is Marinette?” Rose asked Alya, scanning the room. Before panic could settle into Rose, Juleka gave her girlfriend’s hand a squeeze, receiving one back.

“Sulking over her test grade.” Alya replied, not once looking away from the lens she finished adjusting on her newest camera model. “Do you think all of the Wayne boys will be here?”

“Seeing as tonight’s party is for them, I would believe so.” Alix answered, not believing that Alya really left Mari on her own. If previous events taught them anything, Mari should never be left alone. Never. 

One time, they found her stuck in a glass jar. It was a miniaturization spell gone wrong. 

“Can’t wait to finally use these new lenses I got for my birthday! And to get a scoop on the Waynes!” Alya squealed, her friends shaking their heads, although they had to agree.

It wasn’t everyday that your school received the news that Bruce Wayne and his family was to visit your school

Especially wizarding ones like Luna Nova. 

But while the girls couldn’t contain their excitement to see their school’s greatest sponsor face-to-face, the girls also had a feeling they were going to miss something even more important that night.

-

Damian huffed, dragging his hand down his face, not believing that he actually got separated from the rest of the family as they made their way inside of Luna Nova. 

He had just gotten here and he was already lost. 

And it was all because he was the smallest of the boys, meaning he was the easiest to push around. One push led to another, Jason pushing Damian into the nearest bush, causing Damian to get lost.

As he wandered through the school grounds, eventually wandering into what seemed to be ruins next to a forest, he couldn’t help but hear what seemed to be spells being called out, Damian’s curiosity now peaking.

He never knew what exactly fascinated him about magic, but whenever he ever got the chance to be near it, he absorbed it. So when his father told them about his visit to Luna Nova, Damian eagerly asked to join him.

Of course, this outburst caused his other siblings to become intrigued and join as well, much to Damian’s annoyance.

As he got closer to the voice, a girl in all black attire (save for the maroon skirt) came to view, Damian captivated by her stance. She was still, the breeze accepting her as she stood there, silent like the night. 

The girl took a deep breath before raising her wand, Damian watching the tip glow a dim green. 

As she exhaled, she shouted, “Metamorphie Faciesse!” Damian watched as the spell hit the thing between them -a falling leaf- turn into a rock, hitting the ground with a soft thud. 

He watched as she opened her eyes, confident bluebell eyes turning to joy when she saw her success.

“I got that down, but I still have to nail the full body one.” He heard her say, wondering if she was here to practice her spells. “Metamorphie Faciesse!” She shouted once more, a cloud appearing before vanishing around the girl, Damian staring at her wide eyed.

Rabbit ears were on her head. 

Were they actual...rabbit ears?

Or were they just attachments?

Unable to restrain himself, Damian didn’t catch his mistake until a piercing yelp rang through the silent night.

-

Just Marinette was about to scold herself for not doing the spell correctly, a sharp pain coursed through her body, causing her to cry in pain.

“Who said it was okay to touch them, nonetheless squeeze them! They’re my ears, whether you want to believe it or not and because they are, they’re very...” Marinette scolded, turning to see a boy standing before her. “...sensitive.” She finished, wondering what a boy was doing on school grounds. 

If she recalled, Luna Nova was always an All Girls school, meaning there shouldn’t be any boys, unless…

“My apologies, Miss…?” The boy asked, Marinette noticing that his eyes never stop staring at her ears. Covering them, Marinette decided to respond.

“Dupain-Cheng.” Marinette softly said. “Marinette Dupain-Cheng. And you are?” She asked with a tilt of her head, wondering why the boy looked taken aback when she asked for his name.

Well...this was a first for Damian. A person who didn’t know who he was? Interesting.

“Damian. Damian Wayne.” Damian answered, bowing a bit. 

Damian… Wayne… no way…

“You’re Mr.Wayne’s son?! Devilish Damian?!” Marinette screamed, covering her mouth as she felt rise to her ears. “I’m sorry! It’s just that! It’s the name the girls in the school call you. You know, because despite being cold, cool and being a bit of a devil, they think you’re very attractive. Not that I don’t also think that… Oh god! What-” Marinette rambled, wishing she could successfully cast the spell so that she can hide away from Damian.

Meanwhile, Damian found her honesty quite charming, wondering if she’d still be honest with him now that she knew who he was.

“Miss Dupain-Cheng.”

“Yes?”

“Would you mind showing me how that spell works?” Damian reached over for her ears, Marinette taking a step back. “Sorry. I should’ve asked-”

“Do you not know magic?” Marinette asked, her heart aching when she saw his face fall.

“While Mother wished for me to learn magic as soon as I turned three, those dreams were crushed when she found out I am not able to contain any energy from the Sorcerer's Stone.” Damian frowned, Marinette wanting to slap herself for asking something so sensitive. “And because I know no magic, Father has taken upon himself to not let me near it.”

Damian held the urge to curse, knowing fully that his father wouldn’t have done said decision if Damian had been his adopted son and not biological. 

“So you've never been able to cast a spell?”

“No.”

“What if I say that you can?” Marinette said with a smirk, Damian keen on wanting to know more. When Marinette saw his eyes sparkle, she felt her heart jump. With a smile, she continued. “All you have to do is follow me.”

Marinette guided Damian further into the forest, glad to have brought some extra energy capsules. 

-

“Damian!” Dick yelled, wondering where his brother went, a full hour having passed since the family last saw him. 

It took having to introduce themselves to realizing that Damian had gone missing, employing a hunt for the young Wayne. 

So here he was, searching for the brat, knowing that if he didn’t find him first, Tim will. And if Tim found him...Dick knew that it wouldn’t end well.

Just as Dick was about to call Damian again, he spotted him in the distance, letting out a sigh of relief when he saw him. However, just as Dick started to jog up towards him, he heard a spell get cast. 

“Murowa!” 

Dick watched as a spell approached Damian, fighting off the urge to freeze in place. He had to get to Damian and counter the spell before-

“Ein Ein Sof.” Damian spoke, lifting up what resembled a wand. “Ein Sof Ohr.” A dim green light began to glow. “Luna Lana!” 

Dick watched as the attack spell dispersed, coming to halt when he saw Damian without a scorch on his attire, his suit still intact.

“Damian! You did it!” A girl screamed, Dick flabbergasted when she ran up to Damian and hugged him, the girl jumping around him as Damian smiled at the wand in his hand. “You casted your first spell!”

“I had an amazing teacher after all.” Damian softly said, Dick watching the girl softly come to a stop, a blush across her face. Dick smiled when he watched the girl play with her- are those rabbit ears?

“Metamorphie Faciesse.” Dick whispered, watching as the girl quickly took out her wand when she felt her ears return to normal. Wait… did she think-

“Foraen Mugrowna! Turuto Tarumare!” The girl yelled, putting herself in front of Damian, determination filling her eyes.

“Wait! I’m-” But it was too late. 

Vines crept around Dick’s body, quickly apprehending him, making him fall to the ground, his face meeting the dirt and sharp rocks beneath him. 

As the dirt cleared up from his vision, Dick saw Damian come to view, though  he was standing behind the midnight haired girl who glared at him, her wand at his forehead.

“Grayson?”

“You know him?” The girl asked, not letting her eye off him.

“Brother of mine. Adopted.” Damian filled in, Dick frowning.

“Mon Dieu! He’s a Wayne!” Dick was then promptly helped up, the spirits the girl had summoned now healing him. He watched as she frantically started to patch him up. “I am so sorry.”

“I should be apologizing.” Dick started, looking over at Damian who sported a grin. “I shouldn’t have-”

“Holy shit. It really was Demon Spawn.” A new voice said, Damian scowling when he saw Jason, not noticing that Marinette had the same reaction. 

“Todd.” Damian gritted, his scowl worsening when he saw that Tim was right behind him.

“We’ve been looking all over the place for you brat!”

“And whose fault do you-”

“And who are you?” Jason asked, Damian realizing that he was now beside Marinette. He was about to go and pull him away, but chose not to. After all, she just proved that she can defend herself. 

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng.” Marinette spoke sternly, her glare never lifting. 

“Well Marinette, thank you for-”

“Foraen Mugrowna!” Marinette yelled, grabbing Damian’s hand as yells and curses filled the cool night air.

Damian looked back, watching as large vines wrapped themselves around his siblings, feeling a smile make its way onto his face.

Turning back, he watched as a grin was on Marinette’s face, the moonlight highlighting her pale features.

“Are you free this weekend?” Damian asked, making sure to still watch his footing as they kept running, listening as the voice of his angered siblings grew louder.

“I’m free, why?”

“I want to thank you for tonight. Maybe grab some-”

“I’d be happy to join you.” Marinette said, returning her focus on the path ahead, guiding Damian back onto the campus grounds. “Saturday at 10? By the school entrance?” She asked, letting go of his hand. 

”Sounds like a date then.” Damian promised, smirking as Marinette’s face turned bright pink. “I’ll see you Saturday then, Miss Marinette.”

[bosses-stay-flawless]

In honor of my ancestors, my descendants & myself...❤🖤💚

"From Africa to Cuba to Virginia: A story in Black, White, Brown & Red."

African history didn't begin with slavery, nor does it end with the diaporsa. For many families, including mine, many cultures, races, and generations of people across the world were impacted by the Mid-Atlantic Slave Trade.

"A Story in Black, White, Brown, and Red" was the title of my mother's dissertation in college. At the earliest age I was taught my family's diverse history. I' m grateful for that but I'm also grateful for the many discoveries I found on my own through taking various DNA- Ancestory tests on the market. The journey of self knowledge has been a rewarding one and not limited to the information, I post here.

The first time I actively acknowledged Juneteenth was in June of 2010, I was invited to an event, I had never even heard of it, nor did I know what it represented. In some way, I always incorporate, ways to acknowledge it since then.

My family's history began prior to slavery, it is a journey, similar to many others. I will share it from the middle, as it is a part of my history the bridges the pre-slavery aspect to my post slavery heritage.

The results above are from a generic test I took last year with CRI Genetics. As the Recent Ancestory Analysis summary describes, most of what is known about my most recent genetic makeup was already known by me, yet so was the Taino/ Cuban part. What was not known was the exact African mix.

DNA testing helped me uncover so much, in terms of genetics, yet once again the basics were always known and passed down. My aunt kept journals and albums of pictures, stories, dates and monumental pieces. So why the genetic test? I wanted to find the Africa in me that always beat loudly like a drum.

In honor of my ancestors, that endured much, in honor of my ancestors whose sum of life is more than curses, they are blessings & lessons mixed in as well.

Like Carlota, represented some of my ancestors began their lives in Africa, and were not slaves. Going back past the 5 most recent generations, my ancestory is empowering, and beautiful, and African.

Carlota Lucumí,  (died November 1844) was an African-born enslaved Cuban woman of Yoruba origin.[1]Carlota, alongside fellow enslaved Lucumí Ferminia, was known as one of the leaders of the slave rebellion at the Triunvirato plantation in Matanzas, Cuba during the Year of the Lash in 1843-1844.[1] Together with Ferminia Lucumí, Carlota led the slave uprising of the sugar mill "Triunvirato" in the province of Matanzas, Cuba on November 5, 1843.[2][3][4] Her memory has also been utilized throughout history by the Cuban government in connection to 20th century political goals, most notably Operation Carlota, or Cuba's intervention in Angola in 1975.[5] Little is actually known about the life of Carlota due to the difficulty and availability of sources in archives (Finch 88). Scholars of Afro-Cuban history have grappled with the dearth of reliable sources that document slaves' lives, and the ability of written documents to accurately encompass the reality of slave life.[6][7] Slave testimonies obtained under investigations after rebellions provide most of the information surrounding Carlota and her contemporaries, making it difficult to construct a complete understanding of her involvement in the 1843 slave rebellion, much less a detailed biography.[8] She is considered significant by scholars due to her role as a woman in an otherwise male-dominated sphere of slave revolt, as well as the way her memory has been employed in the public sphere in Cuba. Carlota and the uprising at Triunvirato plantation are honored as part of the UNESCO Slave Route Project through a sculpture at the Triunvirato plantation, which has since been turned into a memorial and museum.[9]

I sat in tears with the ancestors last night, remembering, being an empath is not limited to the here and now it transcends death at times. Why tears? I was shown a vision of a 10 year old girl, without clothes, in heavy chains, shivering and naked. Was she afraid? Very, taken and crammed aboard a ship, she had no way of knowing where she and the many others were going, as the days went by she saw many die, many beaten, many more jump ship. She felt like she was starving, not just for food, warmth, light, but for the familiar, and for her family, where are her family now, are they dead, taken, searching? She doesn't know. The days seem endless, the rocking motion of the boat makes her sick, more death, yet the weaker she becomes because of lack of proper nutrition, she hears the drums, the drums from her home, the ancestral drums...BEATING. Soft at first, then loud, almost asleep she realizes that the fierce, pounding, never ceasing sound is the beating of her own heart. The Tell Tale Heart (ode to Poe), she was grateful that her journey didn't end on that ship, nor did the hardship but even so she vowed to live another day, and LIVE she did.

My Ancestory DNA test expresses results in a different way. Same results.

[rpmemesbyarat]

RP Meme from "Chapter One: Caliah (Lore)" in the Bastet breedbook from "Werewolf: The Apocalypse"

Once there was a cat who dreamed he was a man.

Like the morning mist, she appeared from nowhere, or so it seemed.

The winds have spoken of your dilemma and I have come to show you the way home.

Why do you call me brother?

We are family.

We have different parents but share the same blood.

You need to meet your people

You are my sister

I have no other family. Don’t leave me!

We all have family

What are the dreams of a cat?

Let us welcome each other and speak of hidden things.

If they come in peace, we welcome them.

I’m just a mutt.

Listen up and listen close, ‘cause this isn’t stuff you’ll hear from any old place.

I’ve got friends with friends, if y’know what I mean, and this is good stuff.

They don’t get along, y’know.

A good lorespeaker tells different stories every time, and she makes ‘em as cool as possible.

Sound like anyone we know? Nah! Couldn’t be!

So how do you trade secrets, anyway? After all, isn’t a secret shared a secret lost?

If you don’t play the game, you don’t learn a thing.

Each element of the message becomes a metaphor, and the message becomes a story.

Florid? Hell yeah! But ya gotta admit it’s more graceful — and exposes a hell of a lot less — than blurting out the truth.

You might say, “I heard a story about so-and-so” but you’d never say “I did so-and-so.” If your audience has a clue, they’ll catch on.

Everything’s told in metaphors.

A good obtuse metaphor makes you look imaginative if someone gets it, really stupid otherwise.

Everything is larger than life. People don’t just cry, they “explode in showers like the sea.” Folks don’t just get mad, they “turn into coals that burn through the floor.”

If what you’re saying is important, bigger is better.

Simple? Not if you don’t get the lingo.

A wounded cat can surrender without disgrace.

Not enough to go around.

Hey, don’t let on you know what I told you, huh?

It was a time before life, a longing when the dream of birth was yet to be.

This marked the end of peace and the beginning of struggle.

Such promises are soon broken.

Why does even the skin of my daughter flee from my hands?

Why must I always be alone?

Master, what would you have of us?

Nothing exists for him but annihilation.

Go across the world

Let that which is pure stand whole, but erode that which is impure from within.

He tells many tales, but all of them are lies. He is rage made manifest, and he coils within us all.

There was no want, no war, no anguish, and all living things gave of themselves to help others exist.

Until some cataclysm happened, everything lived in peace and plenty.

Life has ever been a struggle, my brothers and sisters. Life has always meant that some may die for others’ pleasure.

That pleasure may be as necessary as hunger or as frivolous as sport, but it has always been fatal and always will be.

Only through struggle can we progress.

Only through sacrifice can we succeed.

We were born from conflict and we grow through adversity. Our ancestors are predators, great cats and human hunters who rose above their surroundings and mastered them.

We know our place in the Great Order, and it is not passive.

Like the moon, our world waxes and wanes.

Each era glows brightly, then fades into night before rising again as some new age.

As creatures of light, dark and twilight all, we are not moved much by the vagaries of fortune.

Each tribe has its creation story, and they differ in many ways.

I have my own ideas.

We are a breed eternally apart, and we are rare.

Water runs silent, yet crushes with the power of an elephant.

Its depths hold secrets that only the brave can find.

The first of our kind were nearly the last.

Those it caught were devoured.

Let this be your legacy

My tears, shed for you, will boil in your veins.

All people will fear you, and all animals, too.

Begone and tend the flocks that need killing.

I banish you from sight!

They still live on in us, and we carry their curse to this day.

As the humans prospered, they grew quickly out of hand.

It was a bloody, useless time, and we fractured as a people.

Secrets became the only thing to bind us.

It’s hard to forgive these raging bastards.

Very territorial, and I know how that feels.

There are enough horrors in the night already.

Corruption has a million voices; sometimes they drown out the song of the moon and lead us over cliffs.

That song wails from nightclubs, boom boxes and televisions every day.

Stop up your ears, my friend and listen to the wind.

Those secrets led the wolves to our door — literally.

Gods damn the dogs for that!

Their misbegotten crusade killed hundreds of our Kind and Kin.

She mated with serpents, wolves and great cats in an effort to become like them, but gave birth to monsters instead.

Some legends portray her as one of our kind, but we know this isn’t so.

If the tales I’ve heard are any measure, they have no pity for us at all.

We are where we are born.

I think our unique insights show us that humanity is a mixed blessing — especially where the earth and the wild are concerned.

Men are the cleverest monkeys, no doubt, but they don’t have much sense of self-preservation.

Our forebears fought to let humanity prosper.

We have an amazing world at our fingertips, but it’s filled with poisons and lies.

Honor seems to be a fading dream in lands where the rich starve their people and the poor kill each other.

We hold magic within ourselves, within our hearts and minds and spirits. To dishonor ourselves is to disperse that magic and scatter our souls.

It’s acceptable to lie to other creatures; they’re not of our blood and not bound by our laws.

We will flee to survive a fight, but will not run when others depend on our strength.

We must make restitution to those we deceive, in deeds, trade or money.

We may be exiled or branded.

Our weapons are many — secrets, claws, teeth and allies — and we will not hesitate to employ them for our world’s

survival.

Our people have walked too close to extinction for us to take such matters lightly.

We will not ally ourselves with shadow powers or drink corrupted wisdom.

We do not fail our Earth and mother. That path leads to death.

We are the keepers of secrets, and our fates depend on silence.

Each of us bears the hidden doom of our own people, and we know the cost of betraying that trust.

We also know that we have what others want — or what they think they want — and it amuses us to make them squirm.

Our knowledge is our concern.

We will not share it unless we wish to.

We will hide ourselves from outsiders; they will think they know us, but we will delude them.

We will wrap our lore in riddles and tales; let the clever ones puzzle out their meaning.

We will act as if we know even more than we do, for it keeps outsiders guessing.

Let them wonder at our insight; they value us more highly when they do.

We will cover our tracks with misdirection, pretend to be other than what we are, fill the air with idle rumors and hide messages in code.

There is no forgiveness for this crime.

Well, let’s just say I know what I’ve seen. And I’ve seen a lot.

His eyes were so filled with pain that I decided to help out.

I’d swear he was grinning as the semi ran him down.

That felt good.

Guess they’ve gotta live here, too.

I say they’re not as smart as they might think.

Maybe I’m the one who’s being fooled.

I could tell you stories all night, all week, all month and more.

As the temples rose and the hordes crossed through, our parents sat on the sidelines of history and observed the passing of kings.

The cultures we witnessed shaped our own ways.

Cities rose, each with secrets too tempting to ignore.

For a long time — 4,000 years — there was all the room in the world for us, and no lack of secrets to keep us entertained.

We should have seen the signs in the Classical Age, when armies swept across the land in the names of gods, kings and conquerors.

We should have met en masse when trade and crusades brought East and West together.

I will not belabor the point. We know what happened.

Explorers, slavers and great white hunters bounded into the wilderness and cast a chain around our kind.

Suddenly, we went from having all space to having little.

I can’t say I don’t share the sentiment just a bit.

We didn’t stop until a greater evil forced us to align, but that’s another story.

It’s a wonder anyone survived.

We studied their secrets, but could learn nothing from them.

We have no one to blame but ourselves.

For all our vaunted sight, we’re blind. For all our gathered lore, we’re stupid.

The world is falling apart.

I don’t know whether to believe it or not, but we are living in interesting times!

We must pool our secrets, combine our efforts, and bring the world’s secrets to light.

We must act on what we discover and disperse what we learn.

Do I lose my cool?

The modern age is the greatest puzzle we could want endless streams of secrets, enigmas, wonders and dazzles, wrapped up in an explosive package that could blow us all to hell.

Anywhere, at any time, the whole ride could fly off the rails.

Those who ignore the warning feed the vultures the next morning.

I’ll simply say the tigers are not where you’d expect.

People have begun to open their eyes, but they still need your counsel to see the cliff’s edge before falling off

Those stories are true — violently true — and they add up to an appalling picture if you string them all together.

They get an idea, work on it a bit, and try to rule the world. Typical. We’ve seen their kind before.

Look around you if you doubt it.

Surely the secrets you’ve uncovered have given you the idea that maybe, just maybe, something’s going on, something bigger than another plunder, another invasion, another city that falls to ruin in a century.

Discover what you can, but bury your tracks well.

We’re strangers to each other for most of our lives, and we like it that way — a few careful gatherings are all we

can stand.

The moon is our patron, but the shadows are our father too, and they call to us at our weaker moments.

Most of us dance on the edge, though, and that’s where we like to be!

Despite our pains, we’re spirited and wild, inquisitive yet careful, sensual yet refined.

Our beauty is our greatest pride, and our wits are second to none.

We know what we are.

To hell with them all!

Still, we cannot let pride blind us to the facts.

The morning it foretells is up to us.

We must come together, yet retain our pride.

We are the keepers of secrets.

Perhaps it’s time those secrets were revealed.

[astrochiron]

The Signs :: Channel Orange // Frank Ocean

Aries- Sweet Life

“You've had a landscaper and a house keeper since you were born The starshine always kept you warm”

This line refers to an easy life, one of luxury and means. What’s more, this person has had these things since birth, not even earning these things themselves. An Aries rising chart is called natural, as their houses are led by their associated signs, their life tends flows easily and this person has had a similar life.

“So why see the world, when you got the beach? Don't know why see the world, when you got the beach”

Aries is the sign of self and your own experiences that you don't have to reach out for. This person has trouble seeing outside of their world and, in fact, refuses to branch out. They have the “beach” in their own mind allowing them to ignore the things going on around them.

Overall

This song is a challenge to look outside of oneself and your own comforts to empathize and experience the ways of others. Frank wants her to step outside of her privilege and her pretty surroundings to maybe experience something else, something less curated for them. The lyrics imply a sense of immaturity exhibited by the subject, not fueled by the search of fun but by circumstance.

Taurus- Pink Matter

“That soft pink matter Cotton candy, Majin Buu, oh, oh, ohh Close my eyes and fall into you, you, you My God, she's giving me pleasure” close my eyes and fall into you” 

This line provides sensory imagery of softness and pleasure, two things Taurus is associated with. Cotton candy and Majin Buu (a DBZ character) conjuring up safe and comfortable imagery of childhood and happiness. Frank’s moved on to another source of pleasure though, as this line alludes to sex and the pleasure of it. Taurus is associated with the physical pleasure of sex.

“Pleasure over matter” 

Both pleasure and physical mater are associated with Taurus. Taurus is an Earth sign, associated with physical matters like money, possessions, and even your relationship with your physical body. Pleasure is the ultimate goal and that is bolstered by the maintenance of physical means.

Overall

This song’s focus on the body, especially the feminine one, links it to the feminine sign of Taurus. While Virgo is linked with physical health and routine, Taurus shows how we view and worship the body. This song also focuses on desire, another Taurean trope.

Gemini- Thinkin’ Bout You

“A tornado flew around my room before you came Excuse the mess it made, it usually doesn't rain in”

The chaos and air-related tornado is a perfect symbol for Gemini, a restless and powerful force made of fluent thought and free-ranging speech (Air related things). Frank is also lying to this guy, saying his room is messy because of a tornado. I’m not implying Gemini’s lie, but they certainly have fun with the truth more than most signs.

“Since you think I don't love you, I just thought you were cute That's why I kissed you”

This song displays the inquisitive and impulsive nature of Gemini. Frank kissed the guy because he thought he was cute, plain and simple, almost like school kids on the playground. This also displays the dismissal of romantic disinterest (common in the manner of most air signs) for inquisitiveness.

Overall

The title literally has “thinking” in it, which is Gemini’s superpower as the mutable air sign. The whole song is something of a train of thought ramble that Frank is well known for, honestly. The whole song has a childhood vibe, even supported by Frank saying this is about a time when he was 17 or so. Gemini is linked with our formative years and though, 17 is a bit old for Gemini’s range, it’s still cerebrally nostalgic and witty.

Cancer- Forest Gump

“Forrest Gump You run my mind, boy Running on my mind, boy Forrest Gump”

Cancers have a tendency to linger on thoughts, especially the emotional nature of them. I don't think Cancers are crybabies (I'd give that more to Pisces who cry from happiness, frustration and sadness all in the same hour), but they are very emotionally strong and emotionally stubborn. Their emotions are forefront in memory and so is the way Forest made Frank feel.

“Forrest green, Forrest blues I'm remembering you If this is love, I know it's true I won't forget you”

The “Forest blues” points toward Frank being in feelings over a past situation. Whether over something that happened when they were together or over the break-up itself, Frank is sad and a cancer will never forget how someone made them feel.

Overall

This song has a focus on past feelings for someone, not specific memories. Cancers are very subjective and, instead of remembering facts about a memory, they'd be remembering how they were feeling during the time. As a bonus, the song is  named after an older movie which was itself based in nostalgia.

Leo- Super Rich Kids

“Real love, I'm searching for a real love”

Leos are associated with romance and unconditional love. Their search for joy and the uninhibited feeling of childhood makes them crave and seek true love, sometimes at the detriment of their well being, but aways for the better in the end. No matter how unhealthy, these two searching for genuine love from one another, though finding temporary joy in drugs.

“Caddy-smashing, bratty ass He mad, he snatched his daddy's Jag And used that shit for batting practice”

Earl’s whole rap discusses the more self-destructive traits of Leo. This line in particular shows the sometimes self-centered nature, expressing their anger by inflicting pain on others. Leos are very expressive and, despite their genial nature, are still passionate fire signs. This also a very childish expression of emotion, and our inner-child is linked with this sign.

Overall

Immaturity is often a negative trait associated with fire signs. Leo’s exhibit this immaturity when they may make bad decisions trying to seek love and acceptance, as well as looking for fun and enjoyment in the wrong places. And while not outright said, the subjects of this song seem to blessed (or cursed) with the fame and fortune associated with Leo.

Virgo- Lost

“And I just wanna know Why you ain't been going to work Boss ain't working you like this He can't take care of you like this”

This line display’s Virgo’s focus on work and duty. It also exhibits their often gently direct nature. This is very much a line a Virgo would say to their out-of-work partner, “This place is a mess! And I just wanna know; why you ain’t been going to work?” Virgos also take great care of their partner, even to the extent of being servile at times. He’s taking care of her and giving her a job.

“Hand me my triple weight So I can weigh the work I got on your girl”

Frank’s weighing out his product, showing the minutiae of his drug life. The song could focus on all the stuff he could buy for her, selling all these drugs, or even getting high on them himself, but instead he discusses weighing it up and strapping it to her. Frank employs this girl as a drug mule, being her boss and her lover; providing her employment and care (6th house).

Overall

Frank shows Virgo’s tendency to get caught up in work and the money coming in as opposed to the things that can be done with the money. Frank is always selling to give himself and the girl a better life, every drug run aways being the last one, but never really being the last one. The woman shows Virgo’s dedication to their partner, disregarding their own safety or comfort for their love.

Libra- Pilot Jones

“You're the dealer and the stoner With the sweetest kiss I've ever known”

This line represents the dichotomy of the user and the supplier. She’s both the source of his addiction and she enjoys the outcome of the addiction herself. This shows’s Libras’s tendency to be all things to all people. The last part also points toward Libra’s geniality and tendency to cover up ills and pains with kisses and sweet words.

“But if I got a condo on a cloud Then I guess you can stay at my place”

Despite all the bad decisions and toxicity, Frank is sayin that if he’s in a good place, she will be too. If he gets a raise, she benefits; if he buys a cheesecake, she gets a slice, if not half. When Libra’s are happiest, they want their partner there too, even if their partner was the reason for their unhappiness sometimes.

Overall

This song equates drugs with love, a metaphor I'd definitely associate with Libra. They don't need to be in a relationship, don't get me wrong; but it feels good. Librans lacking in self-expression or happiness or even stimulation, may turn to relationships just out of habit, even if they’re not with a “good” partner or one that is ultimately good for them. Frank is laid back in this song, allowing her to guide his high and really the whole relationship, taking Libra’s laid back and often lax attitude.

Scorpio- Sierra Leone

Spendin' too much time alone (And I just ran outta Trojans) Horses gallop to her throne

We all know about Scorpio’s focus on sex and the intimate connection formed behind it. This includes the first part of this line, as Scorpios tend to have intense relationships, often most intense in solitude with partner. This obviously doesn't involve only sex, but the intimate moments shared between two lovers when by themselves. 

“And a new day will bring about the dawn And a new day will bring another crying babe into the world”

Scorpio is linked with self-transformation, and the imagery of the new day bringing the dawn paints the picture of the whole world being renewed, as well as specifically the characters of this song and their evolutions. The last part of this line points to the birth of the characters’ child. The ultimate rebirth and the ultimate result of Scorpio’s sex and alone time, is a birth itself.

Overall

This song discusses an alternate Frank that got a girl pregnant young. It focuses on how different he’d be and how his life would be. This hypothetical thought experiment is very a very Scorpio thing to me, analyzing “what ifs” and “might be’s”. This song also focuses on the transformation of the characters, especially Frank, from stupid teenaged lovers to responsible parents by the end.

Sagittarius- Monks

“Mosh pits and bare chest Stage diving sky diver Spray the crowd with cold water Now it's mosh pits and wet tits I think I need a cold shower”

This whole verse gives Sagittarian vibes. Sag is ruled by jovial and beneficially social Jupiter. Each line exudes freedom, fun and physical exploration. The parties, lewd behavior, and stimulating music would all be perfect for Sags huge energy and need for experiences.

“African girl speaks in English accent Likes to fuck boys in bands Likes to watch Westerns And ride me without the hands”

This song represents the foreign interests of Sagtttarius. They love accents and different cultures and foreign people (romantically as well as platonically). There’s actually a hodgepodge of cultures represented with the African girl and her English accent with an interest in rock or grunge bands who watches American western movies and an... expansive physical repertoire. 

Overall

This song chronicles a meeting with a groupie, which gives to Sag’s rockstar vibe. Traveling countries, writing songs, and positively affecting masses are all things that Sagittarius is interested in. The groupies, they also probably wouldn't mind. As for the title, a monk, as defined by Oxford is “a member of a religious community of men typically living under vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience.” While the latter art of this definition sounds more like a Capricorn, evolved Sag’s are very monk-like once they’ve found their cause and their moral path.

Capricorn- Pyramids

“We'll run to the future, shining like diamonds In a rocky world, rocky-rocky world Our skin like bronze and our hair like cashmere As we march to the rhythm on the palace floor”

This line represents Capricorns focus on the future. Frank aims to be decked in gems, sun kissed and confidently walking even in a rocky world. Like Capricorn, he aims to dominate his environment and get the best out of it to his own benefit. He’s focused on improving themself and being presented as prestigious and as a king.

“The way you say my name makes me feel like I'm that nigga but I'm still unemployed You say it's big but you take it, ride cowgirl”

Capricorn’s get off on respect. Capricorn is one of those signs that has a link to sex, but primarily because of the power of it. She says his name like he’s the best, she compliment’s his assets, even if they’re still not too big for her. Even though he’s unemployed, he's still the head of household while they’re having sex. This points toward Capricorn’s sense of joy coming from others’ good perceptions of them, even if it’s not the right one. He’s broke, he may not have the biggest penis, and he may not even be the only one, but she makes him feel like all of those things aren't true.

Overall

Though metaphorical, this song focuses on history and royalty. Cleopatra may have been a Capricorn by some calculations and her outright rule of an empire as woman would support that. She was intelligent and business-minded and well-known. This song also shows a shift in status typically associated with Saturn and Capricorn. Though Saturn typically brings slow-but-sure progression, if the lessons it presents us aren't learned from and taken into account, it can take us down as high as it would drive us up. The character in this song goes from queen Cleopatra to Cleopatra working weekends at the Pyramid. Both demand attention, beseech respect, and accumulate wealth, though society sees them so differently.

Aquarius- Bad Religion

“And you say "Allahu akbar" I told him, "Don't curse me" "Bo Bo, you need prayer" I guess it couldn't hurt me “If it brings me to my knees, it's a bad religion, ooh’

The “bad religion” here shows the Aquarian distrust of religion. The driver tries to bless him, but he isn't interested in spiritual intervention, even though he did mention demons earlier in the song. Aquarians aren’t necessarily interested in or focused on religion because of the typical outright devotion involved in it. It’s a turn off for Aquarians and Frank is associating this with the unrequited love he's experiences with his crush.

‘This unrequited love To me, it's nothin' but a one-man cult”

I have a long analysis behind this next statement that I’m willing to back up one day but: Aquarians are attracted to odd social constructs especially things like cults. Every Aquarian I know has expressed interest in cults, dictatorships, or supreme leadership in the New World Order. That being oddly said, this line points toward Frank seeing himself as a worshiper in one of those cults and he wants the hell out. 

Overall

In this song we see how Frank made his love for this person his God and having it unrequited either caused or further proved his own negative feelings toward the whole idea of devotion and love. Aquarians also aren’t known for expressing their feelings in a conventional sense. Instead of going to a therapist and having to discuss feeling or going to a confidant and having to burden a friend or expose yourself to them, Frank chose to make his taxi driver his shrink, since he’s paying him anyway.

Pisces- Crack Rock

“You don't know how little you matter until you're all alone In the middle of Arkansas with a little rock left in that glass dick”

I’ve noticed that Pisceans have a bit of an inferiority-complex. This is typically portrayed a martyrdom but can even be expressed as. complete feeling of inadequacy and ineffectuality. This is due to their more tendency to outwardly exude peace even if they are in distress. This line also explicitly mentions crack, an extremely addictive substance. Pisces does have a link to addictions, though crack is bit extreme. We could replace crack with any momentarily-good but terminally-bad thing like constant sex, alcohol, less deleterious drugs, or even sleep and food. 

“Don't no one hear a sound Don't no one disturb the peace for riot Don't no one disrupt nirvana Don't no one wanna blow the high”

This line points out how Pisces tends to zone out and escape, especially when the world is a bit too much. Sleep is a common one, as Pisceans tend to have amazing dreams that likely beat a shitty or stressful life/situation. Nirvana, the ultimate escape, is associated with Pisces. They’re constantly trying (whether purposefully or subconsciously) to connect with the Great Other or the Universe or God. Anything blowing their high or disturbing their nirvana is cut off.

Overall

Frank said that he sung this song so it would sound like a smoker singing it. He wanted the fractured breath to show a long past and pain, as well as the self-abuse often an unintentional result of substance abuse. “Crack Rock” could also speak of a physical crack in a rock, separating from himself from the ones he loves due to the addiction. Isolation is common theme for Pisces.

check your moon sign (for the song that makes you comfortable and puts you in your emotions), sun sign (the song that makes you happy and the one you ride around to) and venus sign (the one that speaks to your inner artist).

[madamhatter]

As a child that was limited severely in having autonomy and other normalcies in her life, all she has for herself is her private thoughts and emotions. Privacy is extremely important for her. She already keeps many at arm’s distance and fabricates the ‘Sophie’ that they interact and know. 

To her, it is the true thing and only thing she has for herself. Given self-deprecation and warped understanding of herself however, it is both a blessing and curse. The situation of her mind is one of constant conflict. It is reservations about current conditions and past actions, stinging and breathing wounds of life-long realizations and fabrications.

All the ugliness and unfinished being that is truly Sophie, one that has been reworked and broken apart, can stay caged within. Oft a comforting thought for her, but it raises bile in her throat when alone with her mind.

But, privacy is of the upmost importance to her because it keeps that away from eyes. It allows her to continue constructing and employing herself underneath a versatile façade. She is, after all, a representation of stability. And she intends on keeping it that way.

Hence, if anyone were to allude to knowing more about her (be it in passing reference or flat out stating things she has never shared), she may get hostile. However, it takes a bit for her aversion to show (and any aggression/defensiveness). It’ll take her a bit to process it and there’s the fact she can keep calm-headed in most situations. And, it depends on what is said.

[ramblings-of-a-mad-cat]

[4/5] Jae for his knowledge of the shadiness one had to indulge in to survive the wizarding underworld – reminds me of the Chinese phrase “人在江湖，身不由己” (yes, I know he is Korean) for one’s lack of control once in too deep. Chiara for her nearly self-detrimental levels of empathy, open-mindedness (“Who am I to say what is and isn't possible?”), and reluctance to hastily condemn anyone other than maybe herself.

Oh wait, is it confirmed that Jae is Korean? That’s pretty cool! I wasn’t sure if it had been stated. I know Matt London has confirmed that Tulip is Japanese (and on an unrelated note, she inherited her grandmother’s wand.) but either way, this is a phrase that I really like for Jae and it kind of suits him. The whole concept of self control and the ability to turn back once you’re in too deep, and the autonomy that you’ve relinquished. Something tells me that this will be a factor in Merula’s story and is overall a theme. Like not even just for R, though that came into play when they “employed” Jacob. But across the Potterverse, we see this when Draco and Regulus become Death Eaters before they’re even legal adults. We still don’t know when Merula was recruited by R, but I’m going with the theory that they’ve been in contact with her all along. That it began at some point in Year 1. In which case, Merula is quite literally trapped. I think of it like the mob. Would the Cabal really just let her walk away at this point, if she wanted to? Hell no. She knows too much, and she’s in a position to be useful to them. Her options are probably to comply willingly, comply under the Imperius Curse, or wind up dead in a dark alley. This. This is why I still sympathize with her, by the way. 

Sorry, I got off on a bit of a tangent there. You were talking about Jae. Seriously, I could see him being someone who was brought up to speed and was able to guess, to gauge the situation for exactly what it is. Because he’s street-smart to this kind of thing. He may not know the ways of R exactly, but he knows dark witches and wizards. And then there’s Chiara, the equal and opposite purity of sweetness, kindness and understanding. Bless Chiara. We do not deserve this angel. But seriously, I love the whole idea of her being open minded to all possibilities. Though I say that, and I suddenly recall that she very quickly wrote off the Quibbler as being nonsense. Though she was rather easily convinced to open her mind a little more. I definitely can see her being hesitant though. What you said about her not wanting to immediately condemn someone apart from herself...oof, I felt that. Right to my core. It’s so true and it breaks my heart for her.

[jay-m3]

Death Note x Male Reader

Warning: read at your own risk. Will contain smut, manipulation, homophobia and so much more.

The class is so boring! I already know English, ugh… You sighed, watching as the teacher goes on and on about God. You look at the book in front of you and trace over the letters to keep you busy. “Listen to the voice of God then follow it and know that in time you will find your salvation.” The teacher reads the line that you're tracing. If God was real...will people change their behavior? You thought, shrugging your shoulders. You’ll find out once you're dead. “Yagami, are you still with us?” You look over your shoulder to see your best friend being called out. “Can you please translate the following sentence into English.” You cover your mouth to hide your snort and quickly look back to the book, not wanting to be called out. Light is smart, no question asked but sometimes you always see him in la-la land these past couple of months. He might be going through the stage like every teen has where they are stressed and anxious about what to do next with their lives since this is their last year here in this dump. Like you! Your anxiety has risen since you don’t know what can come next and if you can make it in this cruel twisted world but thankfully, Light has got your back and has been helping you sort out your life. 

You want to do that too with Light but...he never lets you in. Even if you were best friends since kids, it’s hard to get the boy to talk about his feelings. You know that it isn’t the ‘what’s next in life’ since you know that he wants to be like his dad in joining the police. If it’s not that then what’s bothering him? Is it about his sexuality? He came out to you three months ago that he’s bisexual. It’s hard to accept your true self and sometimes figuring out what you like and are is very difficult. Nothing is easy. Hell, when you came out to Light a year ago, you thought that you were Pan or bi. It’s been rough but you finally know that you’re gay. It’s hard when you came out to Light but you put your trust in him and now you're glad you did since he was accepting and he also came out to you! 

___

“What is that big brain of yours thinking about?” You gave your toothy smile at the tall brown-haired boy. “Huh? Oh nothing, just hungry.” Light smiles at you, his hand rubs his stomach. You nod your head and point at him. “You got it! I’ll buy us something in the cafeteria then, be right back.” You take out your wallet and start to make your way to the cafeteria. You will do anything in your power to make him happy as much as he makes you happy. Quickly getting the food you run to Light who puts something in his bag. “Hey, whatcha got there?” “That was fast, (Y/N).” He says grabbing the chips and water bottle that you got for him. “Hey, don’t distract me. I see you be sneaky and I want in! Is it money?” You both make your way out of the school gates. “Oh, I just found a notebook. Nothing special.” “Bet. Must be someone’s dairy...is it mine?” Light laughs at your joke and shakes his head. “I’ll show you when we get to my house.”

___

“You should start learning how to drive Light. I can’t be your taxi all the time.” You lock your car once Light and yourself get out. “Not my fault you turned 18 first.” ‘Yeah, yeah, yeah, don’t sweat it. It’s probably the one thing that I can beat you with, Mr. smartass.” You both walk into the Yagami household. “I’m home!” Light calls out. Both of you head to Light’s room and you shut the door and look over to Light to see him take out a notebook with ‘Death Note’ written across it. “Okay, that’s something else.” You say sitting down on his neat clean bed. “Yeah, wait till you know what it says inside of it.”

“...if someone does write a name in that book, does that make them a murderer?” You ask rereading the text carefully, flipping the pages. “No way. Either way, it’s probably a dumb prank.” You nod, giving back the cool looking notebook and grab your bag. “Welp, I gotta go home. I have to be there before my mom chews me out for not taking out the trash this morning.” You say, giving Light a hug. 

___

“Tell your family I said hi.” You called out to Light who nods and closes your car’s door. You watch him get inside and start making your way to your work. It’s nothing special but you love it since it's self employed and you love the outdoors. You get out of your car and park it and make your way to a customer’s front door. Knocking, you can hear a dog barking inside and the owner trying to shush it. You smooth down your shirt when the door opens and you see a female with a German Shepherd on a leash. “Hi, here is Lady and I’ll pay you once you return her like always.” She smiles and gives you the leash. “Like always.” You repeat and start making your way to the next house. Being a dog walker has it’s up and down like any other job. But being around the animals gives you peace and watching people go up to you to ask if they can pet them always brings a smile to your face. It’s nice having human interactions other than your family and the Yagami family. Having six dogs always overwhelms you but it gets you paid well. Stopping in front of a shop that has TV's stacked on each other with sound. You unzip your bag and pull out two water bottles and four plastic water bowls, once you get the dogs settled down, you look at the TV's to see that it was the news. 

"The same assailant who attacked 6 people at a busy shopping district in Shinjuku yesterday has struck again, taking 8 people hostage at this daycare center. His captives include both children and teachers. The police have now identified the suspect as 42-years-old Kuro Otoharada, currently unemployed. We expect negotiations to begin immediately." 

Wow, I wonder how this is going to turn out. You tune in more.

"At the present time, that’s all the police are telling us." Newscaster 1 informs.

"You can’t help but feel concerned for the safety of those hostages." Newscaster 2

"You’re absolutely right. We’ll continue to monitor the situation from here." Newscaster 1

"Thank you for that report. What do you make of this, Mr. Hashimoto?" Newscaster 2

"Well, one can only hope for a quick resolution to this situation." Mr. Hashimoto

I hope everyone turns out okay…

"Wait, we’re seeing something here! Looks like there’s movement at the front entrance!" Newscaster 2

"The hostages are coming out, and they all look to be unharmed! The Special Forces are taking action; they're moving in! We don't know if the suspect's been arrested. Huh?... Yes?... Ok, we now have confirmation. The suspect has been found dead inside! I repeat the suspect is now dead!" Newscaster 1 informs. 

“Oh, shit…” You mumbled out, watching on. The whole thing intrigued you but you snap out of it when the dogs start pulling you away. All you could think about how karma bit him back. What a coincidence, really. 

___

You quickly dodge other students from left to right. You’re sure you're not late for cram school because you set the timer on your radio earlier so you can meet up with Light but like always, you’re a little behind in time. Light wanted to talk to you, and said it’s important. ‘ASAP’ his text read which he only uses with you since your ass knows English. Finally seeing the door to your classroom, you sigh in relief and quickly get in, which was a bad idea since you bumped into one of the schools bully, Sudou. You instantly recoil in fear but kept your head held high. “Sorry.” You mumble out, not even looking at him, even if he cursed at your stupidity. One of the advantages of being best friends with the top student that’s also popular with everyone is that no one really messes with you and acts all buddy with you to get a chance to speak with Light. It’s a curse and a blessing. 

You make your way to Light’s desk since the class hasn’t started. You stood in front of it with a sheepish smile when you noticed that he watched the whole commotion. “If he dies, will anyone miss him?” Light mumbles to you which has you scrunching your face in confusion. That was a weird quest-OH! The notebook. Snorting you play along. Leaning close to his face, you whispered, “You shouldn’t kill people you know. You’ll get busted for sure.” Light doesn’t say anything. You don’t say anything. A second goes by and you both start to chuckle. Your (e/c)  eyes catch his brown eyes and there’s a glint of life in them. Oh, how you missed that special look. It’s been a while. Your face is close to his… You could feel the warmth rising on your cheeks. Your breath falters and the speed of your heart increases. You knew that you have a crush on Light. You don’t know when it started, you just embraced it. It’s stupid really, you know that Light will never see you like that so you never opened your heart to him. The crush was big but now you can easily ignore it since you trained yourself to quickly exterminate feelings for one. It’s just part of being gay. Falling for people that you shouldn’t. Finding someone else gay is an accomplishment, finding someone that’s gay and have feelings for them is amazing and rare. Especially here in Japan but hopefully it will get better. You only had one relationship with a guy and that was the hardest to maintain since your both were closeted. You’re still in the closet sadly, you want to tell your mother who you really are. 

Light Yagami, the boy that befriended you when you moved here. The boy that found you heartbroken when your ex-boyfriend dumped you. The boy that excepted you when you came out and also told you he’s bisexual. The boy that was there for you when your father and brother got murdered. The boy...Why is he getting closer? Light leans close to your ear. His hot breath tickling your exposed skin which sends a shiver down your spine. “It worked.” His voice low and raspy, which gets your blood pumping when he tries to whisper-wait. “What worked?” You stood straight, tilting your head in confusion. “Kurou Otocharada.” He says which has you reeling back in memories of today and finally connected the dots from the man that died to the conversation you two have been talking about. Your mouth instantly dropped and you look at Light wide-eyed. His eyes bore into your soul like he’s expecting something, your reaction of course. You know that he knows he reads others well by what he knows. He knew you for years and he knows how you react from stuff that he imprinted in his head. This is no different. “How...I want to see.” You slowly say. He was about to say something until the teacher walked in. “Everyone, sit down in your seats.”

You tapped twice on Light's desk with your forefinger. A sign that you both came up with as a secret code for; later, yes, be quiet and your favorite, I’m so gay. The last one, of course, is from you. Light only agreed because it amused him when you both go somewhere and get served by a hot dude when you both decide to eat out. You went to your assigned seat and glanced at Light to see him tap his own forefinger twice. You guess it's either later as conformation or to be quiet. Quickly, you turn your attention back to the front. Light already knows you, you know what Light expects from you. Of course, you will be quiet. 

___

“I’m still in a space in my mind where I can’t believe it.” You say, walking next to Light to a convenience store. “To be honest with you, I’m the same. I need to know if yesterday was a coincidence or not.” Light sighs out, slowing down his pace since your short legs can’t keep up. You can’t help but swallow a lump in your throat that just formed. Is he really thinking to use that thing to actually see if it’s real? If it is then, what’s next? You look at Light from the corner of your eyes and breathe in a shaky breath. Light trusted you by letting you know what he thinks happened yesterday. He trusts you, you should trust him also. “Same.”

“Hey, baby where are you going?” You and Light both glance at a man on his motorcycle with his peers bothering a woman. Light nudges you to the door and you quickly walk in. You split from Light to go to the chip aisle and guiltily pick out your chips. You wish you can help that lady out but the guy has his gang around him. Even if one person steps up, no one will follow. That’s how bad the world is. “Takuo look out!” You quickly look up and see a truck hitting the guy that was molesting the girl at full speed. You gasp and drop the chips and make your way to Light that was standing in front of the magazine aisle. You look over at Light to see his surprise and shocked face. His hands gripping the Death note. Your heart dropped and your breathing came out labored. 

___

“What a nice surprise! I wasn't expecting you home so early.” Light’s mom greeted her son once he stepped into their house.  Light smiles at his mom, the memory of (Y/N) having his family car for the night instead of his mother came to mind. “Yeah. Hi mom, it’s because…huh?” When his mother extended her hands, Light knew what she wanted. “Oh, the results of the nationwide exams.” Light pulls his bag in front of him to fish it out. “I’ve been waiting all day.” She says, excited to see what her brilliant son brought to the household. “Here. (Y/N) says hi by the way.” Light gives his exam scores to his mother and starts making his way to his room. “Goodness! Number one again! These are the highest scores you’ve had. Is it because you started to study with (Y/N) so much?” His mom asks, even though she knows the answer. The last couple of days (Y/N) spent so much time with Light to study and she would hear them, more like (Y/N), laugh. “Yeah. I'm going to study in my room so please don't interrupt me, ok?” Light says, heading up the stairs. “Where is (Y/N)?” Light turns to his mother and tells her, “He took the car to cram school and his mother called she was needed in the hospital for a shift so she needed the car fast.” And with that, he went inside his room and locked the door. 

He immediately grabs the Death Note, grabs a pen and starts writing names down. For a while, he stops and starts to examine the names he has written and starts to laugh. He can’t believe he holds something so surreal. “You’ve taken quite a liking to it.” Light looks behind him and instantly yells and falls down when his eyes meet with a monster. “No reason to act surprised. I am Shinigami, Ryuk. That used to be my notebook. Judging by your laughter, you've already figured out that what you have is no ordinary notebook.” Ryuk, the Shinigami says, watching the human in front of him stand to his full height. “Shinigami, God of death, huh? Well, I’m not surprised. In fact...Ryuk, I’ve been waiting for you.” Light gets up from the floor. “Oh?” Ryuk gave a surprised face, watching the human with interest. “I've already figured out that this Death Note that I've found is real. It didn't take me long. And now that I've witnessed the proof of its power, I only feel more confident in what I'm gonna do.” Light says, taking in the Shinigami in. He never has seen a God of Death. “That's interesting. I certainly wasn't expecting this. Several Death Notes have made their way into the human world in the past, but you're the first to have written this many names. Look at how many people you’ve killed in only five days. Most are reluctant to write this much.” As Ryuk says this, Light is thinking of a male that has pointed out many things about the Death Note. ”I've already prepared myself, Ryuk. I used the notebook even though I knew it belonged to a Shinigami, and now that Shinigami has come. So what will happen to me? You're here to take my soul, right?” 

“Hmm, what do you mean? Is that some fantasy you humans came up with? I'm not gonna do anything to you. The notebook becomes part of the human realm from the very moment it touches the earth. In other words, the notebook is now yours.” Ryuk explains, looking at Light Yagami's lifespan. “This...is mine?” Light asks, surprised that the Death Note is starting to get his life more interesting. “If you don't want it, just give it to someone else. But if you give it away, I'd have no choice but to erase your memories of the notebook.” Light scoffs in his head, who will give up a Death Note? Even if he did, Light knows no one to carry out his plans. (Y/N) might be a choice if Light was there to push him. He knows the other male will follow his lead. “So, then, you're saying I can use the Death Note all I want and I won't be punished?”

“Let's just say this, you will feel the fear and pain known only to humans who have used the notebook. And when it's your time to die, it will fall on me to write your name in my Death Note. Be warned, any human who's used a Death Note can neither go to heaven nor hell for eternity. That's all. Now you have something to look forward to after you die.” Ryuk laughs at the end, knowing well how humans have died. A knock sounded behind the door to his bedroom and Light let out a confirmation that he heard the other person. “Light?” His mother calls him. Light looks at Ryuk to try and figure out how to hide the 8 foot Shinigami. Apparently, Ryuk saw the annoyed look that the human had on his face. “It’ll be alright. Answer it.” Ryuk eggs on, watching as Light slowly makes it to the door. “What is it?” Light asks, making sure that the door isn’t open enough to see the death god in his room. 

“I thought you'd like some apples the neighbors brought them over for us. Why on earth is it so dark in your room? You'll ruin your eyesight.” Light looks over his shoulder in surprise. What’s going on? Mom can’t see him? He didn’t say anything, just grabbed the basket of apples from his mother and shut the door. He places the apples down and sits down on his chair by the computer while watching the shinigami examining the apples. “That notebook you found originally belonged to me, and since you're now using it, you are the only one able to see me, and of course, my voice can only be heard by you. In other words, the Death Note is the bond between Light, the human and Ryuk, the Shinigami.” Ryuk takes a big bite out of the delicious smelling fruit. “Yum.” He says, tasting the juices exploding in his mouth. Light looks at the notebook that was on his desk. 

“I just have one more question I wanna ask you. Why was I chosen for this?” Light looks back at the tall figure only to see Ryuk shoving down more apples down his throat. “Hey, are you even listening?” Light’s jaw clenches. “Apples in the human world are worth the trip. What's the best way to describe these? Juicy?” Ryuk mumbles out, more to himself. “Just answer my question.” Light asks, well more like demands. Scoffing, Ryuk looks at the human, “I didn't choose you. Don't you see? This is all just an accident. You actually thought you were chosen because you're so smart or something? Don't be so vain. It just happened to fall around here, and you just happened to pick it up. And that's all there is to it. That's why I wrote the instructions in English, the most popular language in the human world.” “Then why did you drop it in the first place? You even wrote down specific instructions, so don't try telling me this was an accident!” 

“You're asking me why? I did it 'cause I was bored.” Ryuk answers, not bothered by the human’s anger, more like amused. “You were bored?” Light deadpans, bothered by the shinigami's truth. The mind of the human racks for an answer but all in all, boredom leads to two different things. Happiness or depression. “The truth is Shinigami haven't got much to do these days. Most of the time we're either taking naps or gambling. If you take the time to write names in your Death Note, the others just laugh at you for working so hard. Even if you wrote the name of another Shinigami, it'd be pointless because they wouldn't die. And since we live in the Shinigami Realm, it brings us no amusement to kill those in the human world either. So I figured I'd have more fun if I came down here myself. Anyway, I'm surprised at how many names you've written, but I wanna know why you only wrote the cause of death for that guy who was hit by the truck.”

“If you don't write down the cause of death, the victim dies of a heart attack, and that's probably the best thing about the Death Note, Ryuk. You see, I've already exhausted the list of the world's major criminals, and eventually, I'm going to get rid of them all.” Light answers the Shinigami, not only for the guy that was hit by the truck but for all the names that he written down in the Death Note. “What's the point of doing that?” Ryuk questions, eating all this information up in his mind. “It's only a matter of time before people figure out that these criminals are being eliminated by someone. I want the world to know of my existence. That there's someone passing righteous judgement on the wicked!” Light can feel excitement pass through his body once more. The adrenaline kicking in. “Why even bother? What are you trying to achieve by passing judgement on them? I mean, why do you care?” Ryuk questions further, who knew watching a human do something passionate be so entertaining? “Because… I've been bored too. I wasn't ready to believe it at first, but it's obvious now. There's something about the Death Note itself that makes humans want to try it out at least once.” Light starts to have memories of all the times he just watched people do horrible things. How a boy by the name of (Y/n) got bullied because of his race. 

-Flash back after Taruo’s death-

He remembers how (Y/n) pulls him out of the store and into an alleyway. His mind whirling with thoughts. His body was in a state of shock of not only just the guy that was harassing the lady but also the guy that was holding hostages. “I killed them both. I really… I killed two men.” He mumbles out, leaning on (Y/n) for support. “I...it worked.” (Y/n) mumbles out, disbelief written on his face. “Those were human lives, Light! You can go to jail!” (Y/n) gasps out, letting Light lean onto the wall behind him so he can ground himself. It won't be overlooked. Besides, who am I to pass judgement on others? Uhh… no, no wait. Maybe I'm wrong. This is exactly what I've been thinking about lately. Light thinks, looking over at a shaking 18 year old. “This world is rotting, and those who are making it rot deserve to die.” Light says, getting the attention of the smaller male. “What are you talking about Light?” “Someone has to do it, so why not me?” Light straightens out, catching his breath from the adrenaline coursing through his body. “Light, this is…” He can see the other thinking it over. Can see the fear in his eyes. He doesn’t want to see that. “You're sacrificing your mind and soul!” (Y/n) whisper yells, looking at the alley's exit, in case someone hears. “It’s worth it.” Light spits out, watching the fear of the older decrease. “Because the world can't go on like this.” Light ends the conversation, watching the fear clear from his friends eyes and something new awakens Light when the fear gets replaced by amazement. 

-Flash back in the classroom-

I've wondered… what if someone else picked up this notebook. Light scans the room, watching teens his age talking to each other. Is there anyone out there, other than me, who would be willing to eliminate the vermin from the world? If I don't do it, then who will? His eyes land on his childhood friend who gets up from his seat and makes his way over to Light. The (e/c) eyed male slips a piece of paper on his desk, leaning close to Light so no one can see them. He turns over the paper to show letters that form words. Toki Kark… Realization crosses Light’s eyes and he looks over at the short male in front of him. This person is the one that killed (Y/n)’s father and younger brother.

-Flash back in Light’s room-

Both Light and (Y/n) look at the notebook. Both came in here without any conversation. Slowly, Light picks up a pen and writes down, ‘Toki Kark’. He lays down the pen and both pairs of eyes tune on to Light's watch that you gave him for his birthday. That's just it; there's no one, but I can do it. After a minute passes by, Light looks at (Y/n) who has tears running down his cheeks. The older boy gets up from Light’s bed and gets on his knees in front of Light. Hands gripping Light’s thigh, (Y/n)’s eyes met with Light’s. “Thank you, Light… I owe you my life.” The boy whispers out, bowing at the taller man’s feet. I'm the only one who can. I'll do it, using the Death Note, I'll change the world.

-Flash back ends-

“At first, I wrote the names of the worst criminals I could think of. Like I was cleaning up the world, one name at a time, so that eventually no one will ever do anything evil again. And while the truly guilty ones who deserve to be punished for their crimes die of heart attacks, the people who are less guilty but who still make trouble for others will slowly be erased through disease and accidental death. Then and only then the world will start moving in the right direction. It'll be a new world, free of injustice, and populated by people who I've judged to be honest, kind, and hardworking.” Light explains, closing the Death Note. A shiver runs down his back, remembering how good it felt to see (Y/n) on his knees, hope in his eyes looking at him. No one else, but him. “But if you did that, it would make you the only bad person left.” Ryuk counters, watching a gleam cross over the human’s face. “Huh? I have no idea what you're talking about. I'm a hard working honor student considered to be one of Japan's best and brightest. And I… I will become the God of this New World.”

It's just as I thought, humans are so interesting. Ryuk chuckles to himself.