#constance is a powerful listener

[personinthepalace]

[spooky-activity]

Quick Constance drawing for her birthday! Happy birthday Coco 🥰

[sasahuaa]

Riddle Rosehearts as an omega

GN reader; sfw; word count: 2680; tw: bad parenting, insecurity

Riddle’s mother had many expectations of him even before he was born, she wanted an alpha son, someone who would be seen as strong, smart, reliable and able to provide, so to say that she was disappointed when her dream son was an omega wouldn’t be an understatement.

Still, she wanted a perfect son, while she raised him, she made him repress many of his omega instincts, and yet would growl at him if he acted “too alpha”. He was an omega, he needed to be submissive, obey her and his future mate’s orders, even then, she had a dream, Riddle simply didn’t fit in her fantasy.

Riddle is starved for perfection within himself, to fulfill his mother’s wishes. Because of that, he is a really suppressed omega that doesn’t know much about his own body, living in a little box, he would appreciate a partner that encourages him to be himself, someone able to provide stability and hold themselves, independency is attractive for him, but also someone that stays close to him, since he thrives for constancy.

Courting

He first noticed you during the first year’s entrance, how could he not? Always paying attention to everyone around him, taking a thorough glance to every potential new Heartslabyul student or anyone that has the ability to become a rival to the members of his dorm.

You had his attention since then, a magicless student in a magic school is bound to receive surveillance.

Though since your companions are known troublemakers, maybe his first opinion wasn't the best, he was fast to assume that behind the nice face and delicious scent was a malicious alpha, at this time, he couldn't separate bad behavior (regardless of how much quieter, well mannered and polite you were compared with Ace or other students) from a good character.

People who don't follow the rules are simply bad, period, that's what his mom always said.

He bit his tongue after he got to know you better.

Riddle starts to develop feelings after his overblot, he spends more time with you since then, you presented yourself as compassionate and kind, you are reliable, willing to help others, even offered your own space to house ace after he had stormed out before Riddle's overblot, even when you had barely enough for yourself.

You may not follow or know the rules of the queen, but clearly had your sense of morality, and that was fine by him. You were new to this world, you are smart for what he can tell, to learn a new universe from the start is not easy, and yet you are able to carry yourself. He can help, if anything! He is being more understandable and loosening his hold onto the rules, but he would happily teach you the basics, or even more, if you are willing to listen.

You saw his vulnerability without judgment, and then knowing more about you, he was shaken.

It took him a while to realize his feelings, how he was starved for your companionship, how his heart beat faster when he felt your presence and his cheeks reddened at the sound of your melodic voice. And then even more time for him to come to terms with it, falling in love doesn't make sense to him, to be open and more likely to commit mistakes in his flustered state, to lose his words and stutter when he tries to convey a thought to you.

But Riddle couldn't deny that despite being terrified of such powerful feeling, scared to lose himself to insanity when he would let you unknowingly slip in the queen's rules, he loved it all the same. Being next to you was worth it.

So he decided to start the courting process, or rather, try to subtly convince you to start.

After all, he was an omega, and according to his mother, the duty of courting falls onto the alphas, the only way for him to participate is by seducing you, though it was already a stretch, in his ideal situation he wouldn't have to do anything at all, like the omegas from his mothers stories when they sit still while receiving proposals from strong potential mates. But he had to get through your head what he wanted, he would learn everything about you, Riddle simply couldn't let someone unworthy get you! You are the perfect alpha, others would realize it soon enough, or maybe they already had, so he has to act quickly!

But honestly, he is really bad at giving a hint, he has no experience whatsoever, mostly what he knows is from classic literature books that his mother would force him to read, which since then he was disinterested in such topics. Riddle would invite you for tea and help you study, ask for Trey to prepare sweets for both of you and walk around the garden, all while fumbling with his sleeves and spreading his scent.

Maybe you noticed his behavior and decided to court back, or Ace caught onto it and told you so. He flusters and stutters when he receives his first courting gift, an inaudible purr deep in his chest, whatever gift he receives is treated with great care, placed on his desk in his dorm room and cleaned quite often.

When he gets more comfortable in the courtship he begins to give you gifts of his own, it's a slow process to deconstruct his once thoughts of the roles a omega and alpha should have, if it was according to the books he had read about the subject, it's no doubt his mother would request for you to pay a bridal price. Reassurance is a must to him, since his overblot he is trying to rediscover himself, to act by his wants instead of his mother's. He is glad to have someone by his side to give him support.

Riddle was lonely, before, being a puppet to his family, Trey's pity of the omega's upbringing rendering him incapable to properly help his friend, Chenya going to another school, the fear his dorm mates have of him. He appreciates finally having someone to lean on, though he would never admit it out loud, at least not when he is in control of his own mind and body.

His gifts include stationery, with deep red colors, a tea set decorated with roses, and copies of his old notebooks about the classes you are attending.

Growling

In his house, he wouldn't dare growling, his mother did it a lot, but she would reprimand him instantly if he did the same.

Like his beloved strawberry tarts, her punishments didn't stop him, not really, when he was home alone, he would hide under his bed and growl quietly. It was comforting, to be able to de-stress, to let go of his nerves in his growling and let the vibrations relax his tense body slowly, until he could breathe normally again and leave his spot.

He began to growl openly when he entered NRC, how could everyone be so disrespectful towards the queen of roses’ orders? He used his growling to subjugate anyone who presumed they were above the law of Heartslabyul. His sound loud and proud.

After his overblot, he started to conceal more, he still growls in warning, but much more menial compared to before.

With you he is softer, in the beginning of the courtship he would avoid growling altogether, after all, omega's are not allowed to growl to their alphas. But after your reassurance that him growling wouldn't change how you saw him, he relaxed his vocal cords once again.

He growls when you choose the wrong beverage of the day, he growls when he sees you writing the wrong answer in your homework, he growls when your scent fades from his belongings or when you are drowned in different smells, so much that you own is barely present. But most of his growls towards you have no biting, he is merely letting go of his frustrations and means no harm.

He doesn't expect you to be perfect, of course, but he wants a perfect relationship. Growling to you is simply a warning about something that can be easily fixed.

Purring

Riddle didn't purr before meeting you, while growing up he didn't have other omega's companions close to him, even more doubtful that his mother would do this for him under any circumstance. If he did, at any moment, purr next to his mother, he would suffer the consequences for that, this gentle sound reminded her of his inherited failure, of not being born alpha.

When he received his first courting gift from you he was caught off guard by the tremor in his chest, he first thought it was another form of growling, but the warm feeling blossoming in his heart was much unfamiliar from the heat of irritation.

Eventually noticing his purr box finally functioning, he tries to shut it down, in an irrational frustration that this might be a sign of weakness, growling at himself to make the sounds stop when he did start to purr while thinking about you.

But the outcome made him feel guilty, after all, his alpha thought that the courting gifts they were giving him were not approved by the omega.

Then he starts to research more, and finds out that purring is beneficial for alphas, both for mental health, since the sound of purring results in release of dopamine, and also for being a symbol of acceptance.

At first his purr was almost inaudible, just a slight tremor inside his body, and finished too quickly, eventually becoming louder and clearer, though the tone would still break in between or stop out of nowhere.

Nesting

Riddle never nested, never had somewhere to feel safe, the closest to it was the tight space under his bed that he used to hide while he was a child. Now in NRC it's not like he felt the need to start, he was comfortable with just the common items for a bedding.

But since knowing you he felt the necessity to include some of your belongings to his sleep place. Even before courting, while his feelings were unknown to him, he was obsessed with your scent, stepping just a bit too close to your personal space while still being appropriate to a public setting.

The first clothing that was added to his blankets and pillows was your jacket. You lended it to him on a rainy day, the material covering his head and body, his entire being melted and his vision whitened for a second, everything around him was consumed by you.

Riddle went to his dorm with the new article, he had promised to give it back to you the next time you two met, but seeing your jacket sprawled on his bed with the thought of returning it made something gnaw at his stomach. It felt wrong to part from your clothing, he possessively kept it close to him during the night, falling asleep with your scent in his lungs.

Even though the jacket lost your smell he still kept it, now enveloped with his own scent, it wasn't perfect, Riddle much preferred yours, but his heart warmed that something of you was now claimed by him.

If you decided to give him more items of yours, they all ended up on his bed, he didn't make a nest separate from his sleeping space, he liked to have your scent close by while he drifted off. And if you gifted him something made by hand, like a knitted blanket, he would treasure it more than anything else, it was a sign of your dedication to him, in his eyes, he was certainly being spoiled!

It would take a while until he invited you to see his nest, and when you do, please praise it. He is new to giving in to his omega instincts, show that you care and accept every part of him.

Marking

Riddle would start to mark you later in the courtship, his hands finding your tie before classes, using the scent gland on his wrist to spread his smell on the cloth. On bad days he would also scent the collar of your shirt, an obvious warning to other omegas to stay away.

He trusts you, he really does believe you only have eyes for him, but he can't help but feel frustrated if someone thinks they have a chance with you, or if someone concludes he isn't taking good care of you by not marking his alpha.

Riddle also permits you to give him the same treatment, he is fond of your smell close to his face, he can scent clearly on his own tie, he also likes it on his sleeves next to his wrist.

Subspace

Riddle gives you permission to enter his nest when you are in an official relationship, it surprises him how cotton filled his mind became when you laid in his safe space, with your warmth next to him with everything that belongs to both of you.

It's easy to coax him to a subspace in moments like this, when there's no responsibilities ahead and just your voices fill the room. Praise him, say that he did a great job, that he is a person to be admired, how strong he is, caress soothing circles with your fingers over the scent gland on his neck, kiss his face, the omega will be putty in your hands and let his most vulnerable part comes out.

Normally he is not one to ask for affection, preferring to give hints over outwardly requesting, and Riddle never shied away from any of your touches in private. But while in his subspace he feels comfortable enough to be demanding.

He will guide your hands to his hair, kiss your knuckles, make you touch his chest so you can feel his purring vibrate through his body and touch your foreheads together. Whimpering in betrayal if you refuse him.

Just let him rely on you in moments like that, he never had the opportunity before, permit him to discover his deepest desires and he will be loyal and stay by your side until the end of his life.

☽ ☼ ☾

Riddle glanced away from his bed, the culprit of the turmoil in his mind carefully put above his pillow. Your jacket, even wet from the rain, still has your scent covering the fabric.

He growled at himself, suppressing the urge to just lay his head on it, to fall asleep with something of yours to give him the sense of protection. This was so confusing to him. Why is just your jacket able to give him a feeling of safety?

Riddle blamed his omega hormones, they seem to be going haywire lately, especially when you were close by.

The housewarden was trying to convince himself, “it's just a jacket”, he whispered to himself while sitting on the bed and taking the article close to his face, he will wash it before returning it to you, it's the polite, correct way to deal with this situation.

And yet, his omega voice screamed at him, causing an annoying weight on his heart at the thought of parting from it. It demanded to be taken care of, to relinquish the gift his alpha gave him.

Gift? Alpha? He had none of that, Riddle shushed the thought before it became too much.

And yet, he couldn't follow through what his responsible mind was telling him, he gave in to his instincts, hugging your jacket in his sleep, that night and the next, and every other night after that.

Oh well, he isn't shameless enough to ask for more, he will make do with anything you give him for now, maybe the next night he is convinced to try hinting you to court him, or when your scent eventually fades away and his omega is left feeling empty, but for now, all the comforted he needed was within his arms.

[hidden-behind-the-fourth-wall]

Chains of Destiny - Training (Ch.3)

Summary: Their first training did not go as planned. Logan screws up, but hey, what's new, right?

Content Warning: hurt, pain, angst

Author's note: I know Logan isn't the nicest, but I promise he gets better in the next chapter :)

Tags: @danicl25 @mxrtiaxv @ayamenimthiriel @jinndesu

The night was quiet, the kind of stillness that only came with isolation. Eva sat beneath her favorite tree, the wide oak that overlooked the lake just beyond the safe house. Its branches stretched overhead like open arms, the leaves whispering softly in the night breeze. Above her, the sky was a sea of stars, pinpricks of light scattered across the black canvas. They seemed so distant, so unreachable, yet comforting in their constancy.

She pulled her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around them as she rested her head back against the tree trunk. Tomorrow was the first training session with Logan. The thought made her stomach churn with a mix of dread and uncertainty. Logan was intimidating in a way she hadn’t expected. His silence was heavy, his presence like an immovable force. And though she knew Charles trusted him with her training, she still wondered if he saw her as more than just… a weapon.

Her fingers dug into the cool earth beneath her as her mind wandered back to the past, to the experiments that had shaped so much of her life. She could still feel the cold metal restraints around her wrists, the sterile smell of the labs, and the emotionless voices of the scientists who saw her only as a tool. A vessel for power. They never asked how she felt about her abilities, never cared about the toll they took on her. They’d just wanted results, and when she couldn’t give them what they wanted, they’d punished her. Pain had become her constant companion, a reminder of her failure to live up to their expectations.

A soft shudder ran through her as she remembered the procedures, the needles, the electric shocks, and worst of all, the isolation. They’d kept her alone for so long, deprived of human touch, only to push her back into the fray when they needed something from her. And every time she tried to heal, every time she used her powers, she felt herself breaking a little more inside. Absorbing the pain of others, the physical and emotional scars they carried, until she could barely distinguish their suffering from her own.

Logan didn’t know any of this, of course. She hadn’t told him, hadn’t told anyone the full extent of it. She wasn’t sure she ever could. What would he think of her if he knew? He already seemed to view her with a guarded, wary sort of respect, but also as something dangerous—someone dangerous. Maybe that’s all she was to him, a potential threat. She wondered if she would ever be able to show him that she was more than that. That she wasn’t just a weapon, or a vessel for destruction.

She sighed, looking up at the stars again, trying to push the thoughts away. The stars were the only thing that had remained unchanged throughout her life. When she had been trapped, experimented on, and broken down, they had been there. She had often stared at them through the barred windows of her cell, wishing she could be as far away as they were, unreachable by the people who wanted to use her.

Now, she was free—at least more than she had ever been. Sitting beneath this tree, feeling the cool night air on her skin, listening to the quiet sounds of nature all around her—it was something she had once believed she would never experience again. And yet, even with this freedom, there was still a part of her that felt caged. Her own powers kept her shackled to the past, to the memories of the lab and the knowledge that no matter how far she ran, she could never escape what had been done to her.

She let out a breath, long and slow, watching it curl in the cool night air. Would Logan see that part of her? Or would he only see the girl with dangerous powers that needed to be controlled? She wasn’t sure what she feared more—his pity or his distrust.

The training would be hard. She knew that much. Logan didn’t seem like the kind of person to go easy on anyone, least of all someone like her. And deep down, she didn’t want him to. She needed to learn how to control her abilities, how to keep them from hurting anyone else. She didn’t want to be the danger everyone feared.

But there was also a part of her, a small, fragile part, that wanted something else. She wanted Logan to see her for who she truly was, not the broken girl she had been, not the weapon they had tried to make her into, but the person she could be. She wanted to prove—to him, to herself—that she was more than just the sum of her past, that she could have a future beyond the pain and fear.

The stars above twinkled faintly, and for the first time in what felt like forever, she allowed herself to hope.

Eva stretched her legs out, her boots pressing into the grass. She could hear the soft rustle of leaves, the distant call of an owl, and the gentle ripple of the lake as it lapped against the shore. These small, peaceful moments were what kept her grounded, what reminded her that she wasn’t in that lab anymore. She had a chance now. A chance to learn, to grow, to heal. But it was going to be a long road, and Logan… well, Logan wasn’t going to make it easy.

She smiled faintly at the thought. Maybe that’s what she needed—someone who wouldn’t coddle her, who wouldn’t see her as fragile. Logan had his own scars, his own burdens, and maybe, just maybe, they could understand each other in a way no one else could.

Tomorrow would be the first step. The first real step toward taking control of her life, of her powers. It terrified her, but it also filled her with something else—a quiet determination. She wasn’t the same girl who had been sold and experimented on. She was something else now. She was Eva. And maybe, just maybe, she could be strong enough to face whatever came next.

With that thought, she stood up, brushing the dirt from her hands, and cast one last glance at the sky. The stars were still there, shining down on her, and for the first time in a long time, she didn’t feel so far away from them.

***

The sun had set behind the trees, casting long shadows across the grounds of the safe house. Logan leaned against the railing of the balcony, eyes fixed on the fading light, but his mind was elsewhere. The revelation that Charles had chosen *him* to train Eva gnawed at him, a slow-burning frustration he couldn’t shake. The girl was fragile, her powers dangerous, and he wasn’t exactly known for his finesse. He was the guy you called to fight, to take out threats—not to babysit or guide someone struggling with themselves.

The door behind him creaked open softly, and Logan didn’t need to turn to know it was Hank. His heavy but graceful steps were as familiar as the sound of the wind through the trees.

"Logan," Hank greeted, voice calm, like the steady presence he always brought with him. He walked up beside Logan, leaning his large frame against the balcony rail, looking out at the same sky. "I hear you’ve been given quite the responsibility."

Logan grunted, jaw clenched tight. "Responsibility ain’t exactly the word I’d use."

Hank glanced over at him, but Logan kept his eyes fixed on the darkening horizon. "Charles told me you’ll be working with Eva. Helping her control her powers."

Logan’s lip curled slightly. "Yeah, well, I’m not exactly thrilled about it." He let out a low growl, his frustration surfacing in his voice. "She’s dangerous, Hank. You saw what she did. She’s a walkin’ time bomb. I don’t know what Charles is thinkin’."

Hank was silent for a moment, letting the weight of Logan’s words hang between them. Then, with the careful patience that only Hank possessed, he spoke, "Eva is dangerous. That much is true. But she’s also...lost."

Logan shot him a glance, brow furrowing. "Lost?"

Hank nodded slowly, his gaze still on the horizon. "She’s spent her entire life being used, shaped into a weapon by people who didn’t care for her well-being, only her abilities. You know what that feels like." Hank’s words were quiet but piercing. "You’ve been there yourself, Logan. And I think, on some level, Charles chose you because of that."

Logan’s scowl deepened. "I ain’t her. I don’t have time to tiptoe around her feelings. If she’s gonna be trained, she needs to get control of her powers—*fast.*"

Hank turned his head slightly, looking at Logan with that steady, knowing gaze. "And do you think pushing her to her limits, right out of the gate, will accomplish that?"

Logan bristled, the simmering frustration flaring up again. "I don’t know, Hank. But I do know that if she doesn’t get control, people are gonna get hurt. Hell, *she’s* gonna get hurt."

"Logan," Hank’s voice softened, and there was something almost pleading in his tone. "She’s been hurt her entire life. Pain is all she knows. If you want her to control her powers, she needs to understand who she is *without* them first. She needs to find herself, not just the weapon those people made her into."

Logan’s fists clenched at his sides, the tension in his muscles coiling tighter. "So, what—you think I should just hold her hand, sing her a lullaby, and hope for the best?"

Hank shook his head gently, his expression thoughtful. "I’m not saying you should coddle her. You’re right to want her to learn control. But she can’t do that if she’s constantly on the defensive, constantly afraid. If she believes all she is is a danger...a burden...then no amount of training will help."

Logan was silent, jaw tightening as Hank’s words sank in. He hated to admit it, but there was truth there—buried beneath his own anger, his own frustration. He had seen that fear in Eva’s eyes, the way she shrank into herself when people got too close, the way her body braced like she was waiting for the next blow to fall. It stirred something in him, something he didn’t want to acknowledge.

"You’re askin’ a lot of me, Hank," Logan muttered, his voice rough. "I’m not built for this kind of thing."

"I know," Hank said, his voice calm. "But neither is Eva. She’s not built for the role she’s been forced into. Maybe you two have more in common than you think."

Logan let out a sharp breath, turning away from the railing to face Hank fully for the first time. His eyes were hard, but there was a flicker of uncertainty behind them. "What if I can’t help her?"

Hank met his gaze, unwavering. "You’re not expected to have all the answers, Logan. But you can offer her something no one else can. Understanding. Experience. And, perhaps most importantly, patience."

Logan laughed bitterly. "Patience ain't exactly my strong suit, Hank."

"No," Hank agreed with a faint smile. "But neither was being a leader, and look how far you’ve come with that."

Logan snorted, shaking his head. "Charles really does expect miracles, huh?"

"Perhaps. But maybe...this time, he’s not so far off." Hank’s voice softened. "Eva doesn’t just need a teacher, Logan. She needs someone who won’t give up on her, even when she gives up on herself. Someone who sees her as more than just her powers."

Logan’s gaze flickered, something unreadable crossing his expression. He didn’t respond, but the weight of Hank’s words settled over him, heavy and unavoidable.

"You’ve been there, Logan," Hank added quietly, stepping away from the railing. "You know what it’s like to fight your demons. Maybe you can help her fight hers."

Logan didn’t say anything as Hank walked back inside, the door closing softly behind him. For a long time, he stood alone on the balcony, staring out at the darkened sky.

In the silence, he couldn’t shake the truth of Hank’s words, no matter how much he wanted to.

***

The morning air was cool and crisp, the sky tinged with a faint pink as dawn began to break over the training grounds. Logan stood near the center of the field, arms crossed, his expression shadowed by the remnants of frustration from the night before. The conversation with Hank lingered in the back of his mind, like a low hum he couldn’t ignore. 

She needs to find herself first...

He could still hear Hank’s voice, his calm, measured words echoing in his head. Logan wanted to help—he really did—but that didn’t mean it would be easy. Patience was never something he prided himself on, and with Eva’s fragility, it felt like he was walking on a tightrope. One wrong move, one wrong word, and she could shatter.

Eva appeared at the edge of the training field, her figure small and hesitant against the expanse of open space. She hugged her arms around herself, as if trying to shield herself from something far colder than the morning breeze. Her steps were slow, almost reluctant, but there was a resolve in her eyes that Logan couldn’t ignore. She was scared—he could see that plain as day—but she was here.

He admired that. It wasn’t easy to show up when you were terrified of what you might become.

"You're late," Logan grunted as she approached, not making eye contact. His tone wasn’t as harsh as usual, but the words came out clipped, brimming with unspent tension.

Eva looked at him, and for a moment, she didn’t answer. She simply stood there, shifting her weight nervously, clearly unsure of what to expect. The silence stretched between them, thick and uncomfortable.

"Sorry," she finally murmured, voice soft but steady. She looked down at the ground, avoiding his gaze.

Logan let out a long breath, shaking his head. "Look, this ain't gonna be easy, alright?" he said, keeping his tone as neutral as possible. "If you’re gonna train, you need to be ready to push yourself—hard. No holdin' back."

Eva’s eyes flickered with uncertainty, and she nodded, though the doubt in her expression was unmistakable. 

Logan gritted his teeth, remembering Hank’s words again. Don’t push her too hard. She’s already carrying enough weight.

He hated this—hated not knowing how to handle her. The truth was, he felt like he was drowning in this task. He knew how to break things, how to fight, how to survive—but teaching someone like Eva? It felt like trying to carve delicate patterns with a sledgehammer.

"Alright," he said, trying to soften his approach, though his natural gruffness still crept into his voice. "We're gonna start simple. I want you to focus on that sense you have—the one that picks up on danger." He paused, eyeing her. "That force repulsion thing you did when we found you—that’s gonna be your first line of defense. You need to get control over that."

Eva looked up at him, her brows knitting together. She took a breath, like she was steeling herself, and nodded again.

Logan paced a few steps back, giving her some space. "We’re gonna start small," he said. "I’m gonna move toward you, slowly at first. Your job is to sense the threat and stop me before I get too close." He rolled his shoulders, preparing for the exercise. "Don’t think—just react."

Eva stood there, fidgeting, her hands clenching and unclenching by her sides. Logan could see the fear creeping in, but he pushed it aside. She needed this, needed to learn how to defend herself if things went south. He had to make sure she was ready.

“Ready?” Logan asked, voice gruff.

She nodded, though the hesitation in her eyes didn’t escape him.

Logan started to move, taking slow, deliberate steps toward her. He kept his eyes fixed on her, gauging her reactions, waiting for her to respond. At first, nothing happened. She stood there, stiff and frozen, like she wasn’t sure when to act.

“C’mon, Eva,” Logan urged, his voice sharper than he intended. “Don’t wait till it’s too late.”

Her breathing quickened, and she took a step back, but still, no force repulsion came.

Logan growled under his breath, annoyed at himself as much as her. “You gotta sense it! Feel it building before it’s too close.”

He stepped closer, faster now, closing the distance with purpose. Eva flinched, her hand going up instinctively, but still, the repulsion didn’t come. 

“Dammit, girl, stop holding back!” Logan snapped, his frustration boiling over. “If this were real, you’d be dead by now!”

Eva’s eyes widened, her breath coming faster, and Logan saw the fear flash across her face. She tried again, her hands shaking, but nothing happened. She was slipping further into herself, shutting down.

Logan stopped in front of her, his fists clenched. He could feel his own anger bubbling over, but this time it wasn’t just directed at her—it was at himself. At this whole situation. He was screwing this up, pushing her too hard, just like Hank had warned him not to.

But the anger—his anger—wasn’t listening.

“What’s the matter with you?” he growled, louder than he meant to. “You’ve got all this power and you’re doing nothing with it! You wanna keep being a victim, or do you wanna fight back?!”

Eva flinched as if his words had physically struck her, and Logan immediately regretted them. Her face crumpled, her posture shrinking in on itself. She looked like she was about to break into pieces right in front of him.

“I-I’m trying,” she whispered, her voice barely audible, but filled with hurt. “I don’t know how to...I can’t...” 

Logan’s chest tightened at the sight of her, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself. He was angry, angry at everything—and she was standing there, fragile, unsure, and he was the one pushing her over the edge. 

"Try harder," Logan snapped, though his voice cracked under the weight of his own frustration. He hated this—hated seeing her like this. But he didn’t know how to fix it.

Eva swallowed hard, blinking back the tears that threatened to spill over. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, stepping back, her shoulders shaking.

Something twisted in Logan's gut at the sight of her like this—broken, fragile, afraid. He’d been there before, felt that same helplessness, that same fear. And now he was the one causing it.

"Dammit," Logan muttered under his breath, running a hand through his hair, trying to calm the storm inside him. He’d pushed her too far, too soon. 

Without another word, he turned on his heel and walked away, leaving Eva standing there alone in the middle of the training field. The weight of his failure, of his anger, pressed down on him as he disappeared into the shadows, trying to escape the guilt gnawing at his bones.

And behind him, Eva stood frozen, eyes wide with confusion, hurt, and something that looked a lot like despair.

[danganronpadedication]

DAY 7: DANGANTOBER

Day 7: Fandom Crossover

Once again, I was inspired by another person here on this wonderful hellsite I call home, @lobotoboy and their post about a Ride the Cyclone x Danganronpa AU, so that's what I will discuss.

Fun fact for all of you, I am a recovering theater kid. Yes, I manage to get more cringe each and every day. One day, I shall absorb all the cringe in the world and ascend to godhood. I was not one of the crazier ones, I wasn't talented enough to be in the inner circle and actually do shows after a while. But I was engrossed in certain shows, mainly horror ones like the Hatchetfield series, Jekyll and Hyde, Carrie, and We Are The Tigers (this one is underrated, it's Bring It On meets Scream). The musical that managed to get me to relapse a while ago, is Ride the Cyclone, whose soundtrack I'm listening to as I write this.

Without spoiling the show, because I highly recommend it to anybody with even a little bit of interest in it, here is the general plot. It follows a group of choir kids, consisting of two girls, Ocean O'Connell Rosenburg, a go-getter girl with big dreams and a superiority complex, and Constance Blackwood, a sweet girl who's spent her whole life in Uranium City with no plans on leaving. The boys of the group are Noel Gruber, a nihilist with a...certainly unique method of escapism, Mischa Bachinski, a Ukranian rapper with an online lover he met in the YouTube comment section, and Ricky Potts, a disabled boy who, despite being mute, has a certain love for cats.

These five get their fortunes read by an animatronic fortune teller, named The Amazing Karnak, before getting on the Cyclone rollercoaster. The rollercoaster derails at the apex of the loop, and they fall to their deaths. They wake up in purgatory, in a game ran by Karnak, who actually has the ability to predict people's deaths. He wants to give them another chance at life, and decides to have them each plead their case to him for who deserves that chance the most. Of course, what's a game without a twist? Karnak introduces a new character, dubbed Jane Doe, since no one was able to identify her headless body in the accident. She was supposedly another member of the choir, but no one knows for sure. The show is each of them pleading their case to Karnak and learning more about each other, until it is decided who gets another chance.

In the original post being discussed here, the cast was as follows: Junko Enoshima as The Amazing Karnak

Monokuma as Virgil the Rat (a rat buddy of Karnak's that will one day lead to their mutual destruction)

Nagito Komaeda as Noel Gruber

Leon Kuwata as Mischa Bachinski

Kaito Momota as Ricky Potts

Hajime Hinata/Izuru Kamukura as Jane Doe

Ruruka Ando as Ocean O'Connell Rosenburg

Chiaki Nanami as Constance Blackwood

No notes, none at all. This a perfect casting in my eyes. I think that, for the most part, all the characters fit.

Let's start with the easiest one, Monokuma as Virgil the Rat. It simply just makes sense in my monkey brain. Virgil is a rat that is slowly chewing through Karnak's power cords, and will one day bite down on a live wire, killing both of them. Karnak chooses to depict Virgil as a super cool bass player. I would KILL to see Monokuma absolutely wrecking it on bass, or really any sort of instrument. Someone needs to give Ibuki a fanmade execution, and it's just Monokuma absolutely SHREDDING an electric guitar, ala Guitar Hero. Next up, Junko as Karnak. Karnak is a lot kinder than Junko would be in this position. I feel like she would relish the despair of knowing when other people would die, including when she herself would die. In this AU, she'd probably set this little game up, not out of the want to give someone another chance at life, but in order to see the other's desperation. She'd still give that chance to whoever won, but I could totally see her just adding new rules to spite the contestants. It'd be like one big trial 6, where everyone else is having a crisis, and she's just being silly.

These two are a dynamic duo and would absolutely ruin everyone's days, lmao.

Next to be discussed, Nagito as Noel Gruber. One look at this guy, and if you're familiar with Noel, there's really no analysis needed. I can see it in my mind's eye, Nagito in his little Remnant get-up, doing the absolute MOST for Noel's Lament. He's a little diva, and we love him for that.

I know I teased it, and I swear this really isn't a spoiler, but Noel, given the title of 'the most romantic boy in town', is gay, a nihilist, and has fantasies of being a hooker named Monique Gibeau in post-war France. Like Noel, Nagito is very hung up on his particular ideals, to an near infamous degree. Nagito definitely goes further with his devotion to hope, but in all fairness, Noel also isn't a war criminal. In this AU, I could totally see Nagito absolutely just rolling with whatever is happening, no matter how absurd. He probably wouldn't even want to win the second chance at life, believing someone else is probably more deserving of it. He'd have fun with the whole situation, and be an absolute showstopper.

The more I rant about Nagito, the more I understand how much he needs some serious therapy, STAT.

Next up, Kaito as Ricky Potts. Ricky is disabled, having been mute while alive, and used crutches to help him walk. Despite this, he's 'the most imaginative boy in town', and he has a wonderful fascination with outer space, as described in 'Space Age Bachelor Man'. Yep, that song is only about space, nothing else, please believe me, I'm totally not lying to you.

Obviously, Kaito is all about space. I've also seen people equate Kaito's illness when comparing him to Ricky, but I will not comment further, as I do not feel like I have the knowledge to accurately do so. Jumping more to character, Kaito is a very encouraging and friendly presence in v3. He takes Shuichi under his wing, being his close friend and helping him get better and more confident. Ricky does something similar with Jane, not treating her as a monster like the others, and seeming to really try and understand her as a peer. Ricky is a very selfless character (for reasons I will not spoil) and so is Kaito. Kaito participated in Kokichi's plan in chapter 5, without the intent to survive for himself, but in order to help the others. He got the last laugh in death, passing away from his illness and not Monokuma's execution, and effectively setting off a chain of events that led to the end of v3's game. In this AU, I don't see there being many changes, just maybe more confidence and brashness like Kaito.

Leon as Mischa is a really fun choice. Mischa, a Soundcloud rapper, and known as 'the angriest boy in town', is a very fun fit for Leon. Admittedly, I'm not the biggest Leon expert, but I really liked him in THH, and I think his voice actor did a phenomenal job the entire time he was on my screen. The only acceptable ginger /j

Leon has aspirations of being a musician, and so does Mischa. Leon admits in a free-time event that he's pursuing that pathway to get more girls, and Mischa is a self-described 'passionate lover'. However, like Mischa, I think Leon has a genuine desire to pursue music, as School Mode suggests that he sees baseball as a launching point for his music career.

The songs he'd get would be 'This Song Is Awesome', and 'Talia', which could be about whatever Leon ship you want. For my purposes, I will assume it's Sayaka, since I don't really ship him with anyone. Leon can be both aggressive and passionate, as well as friendly. Both characters can also be seen as stereotypically aggressive, but underneath those more intimidating surfaces, they're really nice people. Mischa is supportive of the other contestants, and makes the effort to make everyone feel included and happy. In this AU, Leon would still fight for that second chance, but I could also see some chivalry in how he handles himself.

When Leon died in the anime, I was near tears, give that voice actor an Oscar. No matter your opinion on Danganronpa, you must admit that the voice actors bring their A-game.

I think pulling Ruruka from the anime as Ocean is an INSPIRED choice. I'll be honest, first time around, I did not like Ruruka. She reminded me of every self-centered, fake person I've ever come into contact with. Second time around however, I found myself really seeing her, and understanding her mindset. Yes, she's still a bad friend, certified, but everything leading up to her death later-on in the anime really made her impactful. I know that I have felt similar sentiments regarding the friends I've made, and I do see where she's coming from in certain areas.

Same with Ocean, as much as Ocean is self-centered, she's also just a kid. A kid who died only a few hours ago, and is being faced with the chance to get a second chance to do all that she wanted to do. She's only seventeen, and didn't even leave her hometown, it's sad and I can see how potent her desperation is. Granted, she doesn't go about it in the best way, Social Darwinism is not a take I can get behind. Ocean's desperation is reminiscent of late-anime Ruruka, willing to betray the people closest to her in order to ensure her own safety. Like Ruruka in earlier episodes, such as ones where she's shown as a little girl, you can see how kind she sees herself as. I think her and Seiko's relationship was one that could've thrived and been great, if Ruruka respected boundaries. Ocean eventually starts to get better through the show, apologizing genuinely to her friends, and even towards Jane, who she'd been very wary of.

I wish we could've seen more of Ruruka, I think she has the seeds of a very nuanced character within her, and it's just underutilized. Though, I doubt she's 'What The World Needs'.

Uh oh, it's big rant time. I haven't talked about Chiaki during Dangantober yet, but Chiaki is my friend's favorite character, so of course I know a lot about her. I also really like Constance, she's my second favorite, after Jane. Constance, called 'the nicest girl in town', is a girl who had grown bored of life. She had no aspirations to go anywhere beyond Uranium, but also didn't want to stay in her hometown. Over the course of the story, she gains an appreciation for the little things in life, like pizza nights, holidays, hanging out with her family, and most notably, how pretty the sky looked when she was falling to her death.

Chiaki, mainly talking about her when she's alive, not an AI, is definitely one of the kinder characters in Danganronpa. She's the only one who seems to take an interest in hanging out with Hajime, who's merely a reserve course student in the anime. Despite his lack of an ultimate, she still looks forward to hanging out with him at the school fountain, and playing video games. As an AI, Chiaki grows to have an appreciation for all the things in life, and grows to love the people around her. Imagine being the Chiaki AI, knowing what these people have done, and yet still caring for them.

Constance, despite being mistreated by her best friend Ocean, can't really bring herself to hate Ocean. She eventually tells her off in the show, but she never cuts anything off. Constance grew to appreciate life, which harkens back to the most heartbreaking Chiaki moment for me.

''All I wanted, was to play video games with you, one last time..."

Curse you Kodaka, for making me hear that at 2AM on a Thursday night.

Constance's song is what makes me the closest to crying, that and the ending. Sugar Cloud is a celebration of her realization of the beauty of life, and how she now appreciates what she had and got to experience. I could talk about Chiaki all day, let's be real here.

I can hear you all already. "WE GET IT MOD TSUMUGI, YOU LIKE HAJIME!" Yeah well, he's my favorite, and so is Jane Doe. Told you guys he'd get talked about over and over again.

Anyways, Hajime is a very good fit for Jane. I'll try not to spoil, but it may be difficult from here on out, so proceed with caution. First of all, it's heavily implied that Jane was part of the choir, yet no one remembered her. This is like Hajime being a reserve course student, he's at Hope's Peak with everyone else, but he's more on the outside looking in. Very few people actually take note of him. He wants a talent so badly that he undergoes the Kamukura Project, and effectively, Hajime is erased to make way for Izuru. Like Jane, that original identity is forgotten, for this new one that people regard as a bit more intimidating, despite not inherently being so.

I'm referring to this one comic where Izuru is just a helpful guy who just so happens to be helping the wrong side in the canon timeline of events.

This is an image from an official, I believe non-canon or semi-canon comic.

Jane wants to know who she was originally, mourning the fact that she will never know in "The Ballad of Jane Doe" (which actually isn't a ballad, it's a lament, and Noel's Lament is actually a ballad). Over the course of the show, everyone begins to warm up to her, as much as they can when she's got a headless doll in her arms and the doll's head perched on her neck but hey.

This initially looks like a surface level choice, they both entirely lose themselves and they're the only ones in common like that. But both Izuru and Jane can be considered shells of people, as the very things that made them who they were originally, are just gone, with no real way of retrieving them.

As much as you can claim Hajime comes back to himself at the end of SDR2, technically, he's merely an amalgamation of what could be recovered and remembered about him. The original Hajime is truly gone, and what's left are the bits and pieces that could be found. Jane and Hajime, through circumstances largely not in their plan, had everything taken from them.

They both make my heart sad, and yet, I love both Jane and Hajime/Izuru. There's literally so much that could be said, but my fingers are going NUMB so better wrap this up. Please send asks if you want more elaboration.

THIS IS A SPOILER --->: Also they both have their stories end similarly too, with Jane getting a second chance at life, and Hajime/Izuru getting to sort of meld together, both become people again.

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When I first watched RTC by myself on a Saturday night instead of being out with friends, I didn't expect it to really be worth my time. I had heard a lot of the songs already from TikTok, so I believed the show was pure, unadulterated nonsense. I was very wrong, and the show made me laugh, cry, and stare at my wall with existential dread. I definitely recommend it for those of you out there who haven't seen or listened to RTC. You may THINK you know what to expect, but trust me, it's a rollercoaster of emotions. Teehee, I made a pun. Anyways, here is my ranking of the songs in RTC, that literally no one asked for <3

[mybeautifulchristianjourney]

Dawn and Dusk: Scriptures, Devotions, and Prayers Inspired by Charles Spurgeon's Morning and Evening

The Eternal Promise: Delighting in God's Covenant

How does it feel to acknowledge a promise that remains intact despite the passage of time and the fluctuations of life? Have you ever thought about the constancy of God's love? Do you delight in the ancient and everlasting promise given to us?

He has sent redemption to His people; He has ordained His covenant forever; holy and awesome is His name. — Psalm 111:9

God's Covenant has always been a comforting constant for His people. This Covenant, like an abundant feast in the banquet hall of the Holy Spirit, is a source of deep satisfaction. We revel in its antiquity, the promise sealed before the celestial bodies began their cosmic dance, ensuring our interests in Christ Jesus.

We take pleasure in the Covenant's unshakeable reliability, contemplating "the sure mercies of David." We celebrate this Covenant as "signed, sealed, ratified, and perfectly ordered." Its immutability fills our hearts with joy. It stands as a Covenant that neither time nor eternity, neither life nor death, can ever violate—a Covenant as old as eternity and as everlasting as the Rock of Ages.

Moreover, the Covenant provides us with everything. God is our portion, Christ our companion, the Spirit our Comforter. Earth is our temporary abode, and heaven is our eternal home. The Covenant ensures an inheritance for every soul that has a stake in this ancient and eternal deed of gift.

We also revel in the Covenant's abundant grace. We understand that the law was nullified because it was a Covenant of works that depended upon merit. However, this Covenant endures because it is rooted in grace. This grace forms the basis, condition, bulwark, foundation, and pinnacle of the Covenant. This Covenant represents a treasury of wealth, a granary of sustenance, a fountain of life, a storehouse of salvation, a charter of peace, and a haven of joy.

May we always find joy in Your unchanging Covenant. Grant us the wisdom to understand Your eternal promise. May we live each day secure in Your everlasting love. Guide us in Your grace and lead us in the path of righteousness.

Questions for Reflection

How do you experience the constant love of God in your daily life?

In what ways can the awareness of God's ancient and unchanging promise influence your decisions and actions?

How can we better rejoice in the abundance that God's Covenant provides?

How does knowing that God's Covenant provides for all needs shape your attitude towards life's challenges?

What role does Christ, as our companion, play in your understanding of the Covenant?

What does the phrase "the sure mercies of David" mean to you, and how does it relate to your faith journey?

How can the Covenant's grace influence your interactions with others?

How can we make God our portion, in a practical sense, in our daily lives?

How does the assurance of a heavenly home affect your perspective on earthly struggles?

How can we better perceive the enduring nature of the Covenant, rooted in grace and not in merit?

How does understanding the Covenant as a "treasury of wealth" and "storehouse of salvation" impact your spiritual life?

Supporting Scriptures

Hebrews 1:3: The Son is the radiance of God’s glory and the exact representation of His nature, upholding all things by His powerful word. After He had provided purification for sins, He sat down at the right hand of the Majesty on high.

Revelation 5:9: And they sang a new song: “Worthy are You to take the scroll and open its seals, because You were slain, and by Your blood You purchased for God those from every tribe and tongue and people and nation.

Isaiah 55:3: Incline your ear and come to Me; listen, so that your soul may live. I will make with you an everlasting covenant—My loving devotion promised to David.

Ephesians 1:7: In Him we have redemption through His blood, the forgiveness of our trespasses, according to the riches of His grace

Colossians 1:14: in whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins.

Psalm 130:7: O Israel, put your hope in the LORD, for with the LORD is loving devotion, and with Him is redemption in abundance.

Luke 1:68: “Blessed be the Lord, the God of Israel, because He has visited and redeemed His people.

You are free to copy as needed for noncommercial personal and ministry use.

[lanafofana]

The Price of Divinity

@spellbooking I'm blaming your god gale video for all these thoughts I had to get out.

“You could do it, you know.”

Tav, staring out into the distance of the Outer Realms, doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t give any indication they’re listening at all.  

“Shar’s had a hold on ‘Loss’ for long enough after all.” 

 A god of ambition cannot help it, it seems. To find the cracks where possibility festers and try to pry it out with coaxing words and relentless goading. It’s a familiar conversation but Tav isn't interested in pursuing it further than they already have.

“The power of a domain like that…” The god of ambition trails off, something hungry in his voice that crawls under Tav’s skin like an itch. 

“What need for such Loss does Ambition seek?” They intone mildly. “Have you grown so weary of your own domain so soon?” 

A chuckle. Once, long ago, it had been a warm sound, they think. Now it crackles in the space between them. They turn the sound over in their mind like a puzzle; picking it apart, prodding for the nuance. A challenge? Derision? Calculated. 

“What need, my love?” The god smirks. “What is the yawning emptiness of loss but a stepping stone to building something greater? Loss begets growth. Ambition will ever have a part to play for where there is nothing, there are untold possibilities for everything.” 

“Is that all,” they say drily. “You see my domain as a stepping stone on which to elevate yourself. Ambition thy name is constancy.”   

“It’s you I’m thinking of,” he insists. There is something there though, something that Tav can almost taste on their tongue.

They are silent for a moment. An eon. Staring into the abyss of eternity. From here Tav can see whatever they wish to. There is precious little else they desire to spend their time doing anymore. They wait and they watch. Listening for the prayers in their name that sing through time and space, ringing sweetly of desperation and mourning. “You are mistaken.” 

 “Unlikely.” The response is quick, a knee jerk denial that smacks of arrogance. 

Tav almost smiles. Feels an old desire unfurl within their chest to turn into his embrace, kiss him, envelope him. 

“Tell me,” they say instead, gaze steady on the distant twinkle of mortal existence. “Do you remember when we were human?” 

The god shifts, displeased with how this conversation has turned against him, but answers anyway. “I remember we were once mortal, yes.” 

“Do you recall that time you helped me channel the weave?”

He is silent for longer this time. If remembering his mortal days did not spark his ire, then bringing up the weave was sure to elicit something darker than displeasure. 

Tav continues, ignoring his silence and the unspoken warning within it. “You told me to picture a feeling of harmony. An imprecise instruction but more effective, perhaps, in its indetermination for the purpose.” 

“What of it?” 

“Picture my domain,” they command softly. “Tell me what you see.” 

“I fail to see the conn–” 

“What do you see, Gale Dekarios, when you imagine Loss?” 

The use of his name draws him up short. He examines the question from every angle, wariness replacing derision. “I suppose…an empty bowl, waiting to be filled. Ornate and beautiful in its near perfection. But incomplete.”

Tav hums. “A common misconception,” 

An irritated sigh. “Go on then, tell me, oh wise figure, what the point of this exercise is.” 

Tav turns to face him finally and despite himself he finds himself enthralled. They are magnificent, a searing sort of beauty that a mortal would be hard pressed to look upon without going mad. Empty eyes that used to hold his entire world study him as he studies them. “The point, lover, is that it is you who are the bowl and I am but the emptiness that fills it.” 

Gale’s lips thin, his eyes narrow. 

“You raised me to divinity and you think it gives you leverage with which to bargain against fate. I am not a stepping stone, Slave to Desire. I am insatiable hunger, the bitter failure of love, the aching regret of a broken heart.” A beat. “In all things there must remain balance. For this reason, I am your equal in every way.” 

The silver god clenches his jaw. 

The movement is almost human and so Tav does kiss him then because it is less painful than not kissing him at all. A gentle press of their lips to the corner of his mouth. They close their eyes and try to remember what it felt like, when the gesture used to cause their heartbeat to quicken and their cheeks to flush with warmth. 

The god of ambition has no patience for distractions though and he pulls away. Once, he would have wanted for nothing more than to lose himself in every moment between them. That had been the man, though. The god before them wants for nothing more than, well, More. 

Tav sighs, turning back to their vigil. 

They don’t need to look to know he has already gone. His absence is a small price to pay for the peace of not rehashing the same argument again and again. For a while, anyway. He always comes back. A new scheme on his clever tongue. 

They were both of them cursed by their divinity, each an itch to the other they cannot scratch. Perhaps one day they will destroy each other. Tav hasn’t yet decided if they are eager for the conclusion or dreading the inevitability of it. 

A prayer like a crooning wail stretches across the planes to them and, as they listen, they decides it does not really matter. 

Not anymore.

[post-uwuifier]

[Ricky:] You might see before you An ordinary man Ha! an earthly illusion All a part of the cosmic plan

Yes, long ago, they visited Those others from outer space Informed me I'm the chosen one To save the zolarian race!

It's true. Listen...

[Noel/Mischa as aliens:] Ricky, we are a distant galaxy A galaxy greatly in need Of your groove, you kink-o-matic powers Yes we need your freak–tastic seed

[Ricky:] They took me then, to their daughters' realm The land of the kitty cat star I know you've heard the legends of

[Ricky and choir:] The sexy cat women from zolar!

[Cat noises]

[Constance/Jane/Ocean:] Meow Meow

[Constance (sexy pleading):] Make love to me, Ricky

[Ricky:] What?

[Constance/Jane/Ocean:] Meow Meow

[Ricky:] Okay

[Ocean:] But there's one more small thing. Won't you please help save our galaxy

[Constance and Ocean:] Ricky?

[Ricky:] Sure

What would you do in my place? A mere mortal man? With the fate of a galaxy before you Millions of lives in your hand?

The naughty daughters of the realm All hungry for my chi You'd never guess the role I played In zolarian history!

I'm just a swingin'... Space age... Bachelor man

Let's dance, kitties

[Tracked Ricky (tracked Constance, Jane, Ocean):] (Meow) Meow (Meow) Meow (Meow) Meow (Meow) Meow (Meow) Meow (Meow) Meow (Meow)

[Tracked foursome:] Meow, meow meow meow, meow!

[Ricky:] It gets weird now

[Noel/Mischa as aliens:] Ricky, you've lain with our daughters You're our hero, our saving grace But now there is a new challenge For zolaria to face...

[Ricky:] For they're at war with k-9 Count dog-u-lous, that son of a bitch!

[Choir (except Jane):] That son of a bitch!

[Ricky:] The generals are all standing by

[Ricky and choir (except Jane):] Tell us Ricky, should we pull the switch?

[Constance/Jane/Ocean:] Meow Meow

[Ricky:] Oh my goodness, what have I gotten myself into?!

[Constance/Ocean:] Meow Meow

[Ricky:] Why are they asking me? I'm a lover, not a fighter! I thought I told them:

I'm just a swingin'... Space age... Bachelor man

So I told them

"I am just a man A space age man, that's all I am But I wanna hold your hands All your hands As we make love tonight

Oh, I have no desire to rule the galaxy Oh, to hold you close Is enough for me Making love in zero gravity-y-y-y! woah!" Hey!

[Choir (repeating):] Makin' love Makin' love Makin' love On just love zolar!

[Ricky:] Zolar! woo!

[Choir (repeating):] Makin' love Makin' love Makin' love On just love zolar!

[Ricky:] Uh! I've got to I've got to make

You're my catnip. You're the most... You're such a pretty, gritty kitty I wanna be, your scra-hatchin' post Let me be, let me be, let me be...!

[Choir (repeating):] Makin' love Makin' love Makin' love On just love...!

[Ricky:] And they listened. and they heard my message, for I was singing notes that only cats or cat people could hear. a g#, 5 octaves above middle c

[Almost inaudibly high note]

Incredible. Peace was restored. I guess that's what happens...

When you're a swingin'... Space age... Bachelor man

So I came back to earth To show you the way To lead you pretty people To a brighter day

We can save the whole galaxy With love from the heart! And sexy cat ladies that, that, that's where we'll start!

Yes, I came back to this rock! With my love and my seed! Ladies, you got what I want! And you know I've got what you need!

Cause I'm a swinging! Space age! Bra-ba-ba-ba-bachelor man!

[Choir:] Bachelor man!

[Tracked choir:] Meow!

why do peopwe keep sending me song wywics in my asks UwU

[bethanydelleman]

Each Jane Austen Hero Writes a “Wentworth Letter”

We all love Wentworth’s famous declaration of love:

"I can listen no longer in silence. I must speak to you by such means as are within my reach. You pierce my soul. I am half agony, half hope. Tell me not that I am too late, that such precious feelings are gone for ever. I offer myself to you again with a heart even more your own than when you almost broke it, eight years and a half ago. Dare not say that man forgets sooner than woman, that his love has an earlier death. I have loved none but you. Unjust I may have been, weak and resentful I have been, but never inconstant. You alone have brought me to Bath. For you alone, I think and plan. Have you not seen this? Can you fail to have understood my wishes? I had not waited even these ten days, could I have read your feelings, as I think you must have penetrated mine. I can hardly write. I am every instant hearing something which overpowers me. You sink your voice, but I can distinguish the tones of that voice when they would be lost on others. Too good, too excellent creature! You do us justice, indeed. You do believe that there is true attachment and constancy among men. Believe it to be most fervent, most undeviating, in F. W.

"I must go, uncertain of my fate; but I shall return hither, or follow your party, as soon as possible. A word, a look, will be enough to decide whether I enter your father's house this evening or never.” Persuasion

What if Austen’s other heroes wrote similar declarations of love?

Charles Bingley to Jane:

(“Oh!” cried Miss Bingley, “Charles writes in the most careless way imaginable. He leaves out half his words, and blots the rest.”

“My ideas flow so rapidly that I have not time to express them—by which means my letters sometimes convey no ideas at all to my correspondents.” Ch 10)

Fitzwilliam Darcy to Elizabeth:

Scene: Darcy is back in London after not being able to speak to Elizabeth at the Longbourn party (Ch 54). He begins to write Elizabeth a letter

Miss Bennet,

I cannot be a slave to opportunity; I must speak to you by what means are within my reach. Angry and resentful I might have been after we parted in Kent, but that has long since taken a more proper direction. Upon your arrival at Pemberley, my object has been to show you every civility within my power. I have loved none but you. I went to Longbourn to attempt to penetrate your feelings. Please tell me if you feel as your did last April, a word, a look, will be enough to silence me forever.

I offer myself to you again with a heart even more your own than when you almost broke it. You alone have brought me to Netherfield. For you alone, I deliberate and arrange. Have your bright eyes not perceived this? How can your quick understanding not comprehend my wishes? I can hardly write. You are too good to trifle with me. If you do believe in true attachment and constancy among men, believe it most ardent and undeviating-

(The letter is left unfinished as Lady Catherine is announced…)

 Edward Ferrars to Elinor Dashwood:

Scene: Marianne has just noticed the hair ring that Edward is wearing, he lies and says it is his sister’s hair but it is really Lucy Steele’s (S&S, Ch 18). He writes this letter:

Miss E. D.

I can no longer be silent; I must reveal the truth to you that I have hidden for too long. I love you, more completely and wholly than I myself believed possible. Yet, I cannot offer you a heart that is completely your own. Long before you were known to me, I bound myself to another. I am engaged to Lucy Steele and have been these last four years. I know you could not love me if I betrayed my honour and therefore, I must live in agony, without any hope of future happiness. Weak I have been, inconstant I have been, but you are too good, too excellent a creature. I could not help but love you.

I was young and foolish when I proposed to Lucy and I have learned better since. You have taught me what an amiable woman can truly be, but it is too late. I can hardly write. I am every instant hearing something which overpowers me. Why did I come to your home without any hope of securing you as my own? I cannot think and plan, I can only exist in acute misery. I must go, certain of my terrible fate. When next I enter your mother’s house, I fear it will be sealed forever.

Your friend, E. F.

 Colonel Brandon to Marianne Dashwood:

Scene: Marianne is in bed sick and Elinor has requested that Colonel Brandon retrieve Mrs. Dashwood. This letter is written before the horses are ready. (S&S Ch 43)

Miss M. D.

I write this in haste before I depart. You are too ill to be seen or spoken to; I cannot remain in silence so I shall speak to you by what means are within my reach. I love you with all of my soul. Dare not believe that there is no such thing as a second attachment! That I have loved before does not diminish the strength of my affection for you. My love did not have an early death. I would offer myself to you with a heart all your own, despite the tragedy that almost broke it, many years ago. Is it not more wonderful that a fire, extinguished thoroughly by disappointment, may be reignited? Believe when I say that a first flame, alluring as it may be, is little when compared to a deep-rooted admiration.

You alone have brought me to Cleveland, for you alone I hope and plan. Can you fail to have understood my wishes? I can hardly write. I am almost overpowered when I think of how much wrong has been done to you. You are too good, too excellent a creature! I would do you justice. He was never worthy of you- but I shall not dwell on resentment. If you can still believe in true attachment and constancy among men, believe it most fervent, most undeviating in me.

I will go, uncertain of my fate, but I will return. A word, a look, will be enough to decide if I shall remain in your company or quit your society forever.

Yours eternally, Colonel Brandon

 Mr. Knightley to Emma:

Scene: Mr. Knightley is in London, writing a confession of his feelings to Emma, when he finds out that Frank Churchill is engaged to Jane Fairfax.

Emma,

I could no longer listen to you and Mr. Frank Churchill’s flirtations in silence. I went to London to teach myself to forget you. It is impossible. Tell me I am not too late, that your precious feelings are engaged forever. You are too good, too excellent a creature- perfect in spite of your imperfections! I would not have stayed away these ten days if I thought you indifferent to him. I can hardly write. I cannot imagine Hartfield without you.

He is engaged to Miss Fairfax? Abominable scoundrel! He has deceived us all, but you will hear nothing but truth from me. Shall time heal the wound? Do I have hope of succeeding -

(Mr. Knightley put down his pen and ordered his horse instead, despite the rain)

 Edmund Bertram to Mary Crawford:

Scene: Edmund is visiting London where he sees Mary Crawford several times in large groups. He writes this the next day.

Miss Crawford

You pierce my heart! I can go on no longer in silence. Your friends are wrong. They are completely unaware of the nature of love. Every word they say oppressing me- do not say that happiness is based in fortune. Do not think that mercenary goals are virtuous! If only I could detach you from these mercenary and ambitious friends! They are corrupting you and encouraging your weakness of character. You were better at Mansfield, everything proper and caring as a sister. The habits of wealth and luxury are too strong here in London. Only you would have brought me here. I can hardly write; I am every instant remembering something which makes me grave. You do us no justice! There is true attachment and constancy among men.

You are the only woman in the world whom I could ever think of as a wife. I offer myself to you with a heart completely your own. Tell me that I am not too late; I regret every day that I did not come to the point before you left the Parsonage. Can you fail to have understood my wishes? I have loved none but you.  For you alone, I think and plan. Can you accept the house I mean to fit up for you and the income that will furnish such a second son? I live between hope and agony. I will go to Mansfield, uncertain of my fate.

Edmund Bertram

 Henry Tilney to Catherine:

Henry is never uncertain of Catherine’s affection, so this one is just for fun.

Scene: Henry has just arrived at Fullerton and is listening to Catherine argue with her brother (not James, a different one) about whether men or women love the longest. Basically, the same conversation Wentworth overhears Anne and Harville having. He cannot join in because he lost his voice.

Catherine,

I can no longer listen in silence. I need to be a part of this conversation. If only I had not lost my voice! This is agony! I have so many helpful examples to bring to the discussion. You cannot comprehend how disagreeable it is to be silent. I am every instant hearing something for which I have a rebuttal. Why is no one bringing up Romeo and Juliet? That is a true example of how both sexes can feel passionate love. And Cordelia’s love for her father in King Lear, another excellent example of woman’s constancy in the face of opposition. But you just dismissed the Bard’s entire compendium and all literature in general; it could have really helped your argument. More robust than women? Does he not consider what your mother has endured? You know how very highly I think of all the women in the world, especially those with whom I happen to be in company. Never mind, I shall survive. I am capable of not contributing.

I am slightly worried from your manner of speaking that you are doubtful of my love for you. Too good, too modest a creature! Catherine, you alone have brought me to Fullerton (really, what else could?). I am bound to you by both honour and affection. I would not have waited these two hours but that your brother will not leave us alone. I offer myself to you with a heart all your own. You must be made aware, however, that my father does not approve and I have told him my feelings explicitly. That was the cause of my voice failing. For you alone I ranted and stormed.

I know that your heart is mine, but if you wish to assure me of that fact, it can never be repeated too often. I shall sit quietly now, certain of my fate.

Yours affectionately, Henry

[bucket-barnes]

You asked to be asked about Max but what about a request?

Like Max returning to school in a new healthy throuple. And maybe they look like a captain of the Lost Revenge and a strong golden retriever third mate of another universe?

I do love a good challenge…challenge accepted

(Some creative liberties were taken in character designs for the sake of it making sense for the gossip girl universe)

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

It had been five months since the breakup, Aki and Audrey thought they could make it work but…it just wasn’t the same without Max, they just…didn’t work without him. Maybe they weren’t meant to be…but they had to work as a duo again, it’s not like Max wants to ever see them again- but they saw him

It was a Wednesday, Aki and Audrey were on their way to the MET steps to meet up with the rest of the group, when who do they see but Max…and who are those people with him? And why were they so close to him?!

No, no, no- this won’t slide, no one gets that touchy with their boyf- ok, maybe no longer boyfriend, but they still have a right to protect him!

They were a girl and a boy, the girl had eyes like fall leaves and strands of teal woven into her jet black braids. Her wrists were adorned with gold bracelets and her earrings were pearls, but the most peculiar thing was her necklace. A gold naughtilus shell. She was holding Max’s hand and it looked like he hung on every word she said

As for the boy…Audrey was ashamed to admit what she thought when she saw him. He was built like a Greek god with his muscles practically ripping his shirt off, his blonde hair was pulled back in a ponytail with a few strands hanging out, and his eyes were blue, but not the cold, piercing blue like Max’s, they were a warm and friendly blue, like a summer day. The boy was laying in Max’s lap, listening to the conversation with a goofy smile on his face while Max mindlessly stroked his hair

Max himself seemed different…was he wearing eyeliner?

Aki and Audrey walked up to Max and tried for smiles, but before they could get a word out, they were stopped by the girl with the brown eyes

“No”

One simple word cut them down, there was so much power behind it that Aki and Audrey had to stop in their tracks. Max looked up at his exes with unamused disdain, upon further inspection, he was wearing eyeliner

“I thought I said I never want to see you again”

His grip on the girl’s hand tightened

“We were hoping you’d introduce us to your new friends!”

Aki continued trying for that smile and failing miserably

“I thought you were our boyfriend?”

The boy in Max’s lap spoke up

“…boyfriend?”

Audrey stuttered which got a sigh out of Max

“Yes. This is my boyfriend, Graham and my girlfriend, Ulani”

Max explained with an annoyed scoff, wanting this conversation to end as soon as possible. Aki and Audrey looked at Max with shock, then down at Graham and Ulani…what was it with them? Why did they feel so…off?

They didn’t look like Constance students, honestly they kinda looked like they raided Max’s closet and just went with it. They looked like they were dressed as pirates…really fashionable pirates

“How…how did you meet?”

Audrey asked as her voice went up an octave

“Not your business, princess”

Ulani stared daggers into Audrey. For whatever reason, Ulani did not like Audrey. Did Max talk about her and Aki to his new partners? Why was Ulani so terrifying? And why did she smell like the ocean? They are in the middle of Manhattan!

Ulani and Graham started to seem possessive. Graham was no longer lying on Max’s lap and instead had his arm around his waist, and Ulani was practically gripping to Max’s hand and looked like she was ready to charge if her or Aki made the slightest move towards Max

…Ulani and Graham…huh

So while writing this I realized there was so much potential in this concept so I decided “fuck it! I’m writing a fic” when’s it coming? Eventually- we’ll see how much gets done- but it’ll happen!

[arcplaysgames]

Akechi's other persona is fucking Loki, hahahahahaha fuck. The personification of the spanner in the works, goddamn.

Akechi uses his "Lose Your Mind" power on himself and goes completely off his shits, morphing into his MUCH BETTER AND COOLER black mask armor.

It's a fucking delight to have been dealing with this utterly fake-ass bitch and the constancy of his false gentility for this entire game, and just listen to him shred his own voice with the force of his anger and madness.

Quite the glow-up! /claps

also he uses Tetrakarn which is fucking cheating and ruins my usual strat of annihilating people with Athena's utterly broken skills.

.... wow that is staggeringly smart tbh. Akechi's entire Detective Prince resume is a fucking facade. he created the cases himself with his powers and then solved them. Wow. That's diabolically clever.

It cannot be overstated: Ann is the nicest person in any Atlus game ever. She is the kindest fucking person. It's staggering every time she does it.

Alas, as much as I would personally love to get my hands on this new and improved Akechi, Shido created a safety catch for his favorite boy-shaded weapon.

Shido always planned to murder Akechi to tie him up as a loose end, so the Cognitive Akechi living in Shido's head is here to do the honors.

Haru is so high on the tier list tbh. She's fabulous and she is the one who wanted the Thieves to go after her own father. She's walked this path before and reaches out to Akechi, who literally killed her father.

Akechi draws on Reverie.

Cinematic parallels, baby. But this time he's saving Reverie's life.

He shoots his Cognitive copy (who might also be his Shadow, blah blah, lore) and shoots a switch to seal the bulkhead, closing himself off with his Shadow.

It's a blunt metaphor, but I do like it. In the end, Akechi's true adversary was himself.

At some point, someone on the Persona team is going to go "huh it seems like the characters we use as our second-biggest bad guy are always the best characters in our games, especially in comparison to our boring as fuck final bosses. maybe we should make them the real villains?"

and then Persona will finally be good, guys. it'll finally happen.

WHAT THE FUCK, FUCK METATRON, I WANT LOKI

Anyway. The team go and secure the path to the treasure, and that's that.

I COULD NOT HELP BUT FUCKING NOTICE

in the infiltration log, which summarizes everything you did on your Palace visit, Akechi is completely absent.

That is literally too huge to not be intentional.

Reverie, are you good?

I dunno if he's good, honestly.

[comfy-whumpee]

Safety Net

Whumptober 1: Safety Net. To catch up on where Northlight has been, check out their masterlist.

Northlight taglist - I'm only going to do this to y'all once this month because otherwise it'd be every day! @bloodybrambles, @wildfaewhump, @lektric-whump, @that-one-thespian, @raigash, @whumpywhumper

-

It was late. They didn't know what time, in the eternal bright light of the lab, but almost everyone had gone. The only people still here were Lachlan, who was somewhere under observation from his near-death, and Northlight, who the others claimed wasn't a person at all.

It was never silent in this place. Almost under the range of hearing was the hum of the many machines that kept it such a pale and lifeless place. The many eyes of Caroline were always open, and there would be listening ears as well. Other things, who knew what, were pointed at Northlight's body at all times, and then there were the locks and bolts keeping them behind all those doors, alongside the simpler straps and buckles pinning them to the examination table.

Surrounding it all was their blood, in some form or another, creating a barrier that its original body could not cross, like two matching poles of a magnet forever pushing each other away.

Northlight closed their eyes to grant meagre protection from the overhead light. Head turned to the side, they listened to the hum of the machines, and the clicking buzz of the bulb. They pondered Lachlan, a brave young man despite his terrible choices. An admirable youth of seriously concerning idiocy. His blood still faintly stained the floor.

If only the damn muzzle would be taken off. Constance Irene must have learned that lesson sometime before now. Someone like Lachlan, who was clearly as good as a cadaver to Caroline’s experiments, might have been swayed if they could just talk to him. But instead, they were forced into wordlessness, and they didn't even know if he had heard them crying as he was killed.

The situation felt helpless. They couldn't speak to change it. No moving, no powers. They had never felt more like the mythical body the cult made them. Even all those years between the pillars, they had the understanding of seasons, of night and day, of weather and nature. This building would be the same on the first day and on their thousandth, except that the people hurting them within it would be aged.

Would Lachlan age, now? The blood was meant to give eternal life, but the boy seemed to already be at such risk. He'd been murdered by his boss and watched by a dozen doctors with no sign of help. Surely he would, at some point, be given an injury that Northlight's blood would fail to heal. Irene was hundreds of years old, but she drank much more than the droplets that made her elixir. Lachlan wouldn't be allowed all that. He was here to be hurt. Sooner or later, he'd be treated the same as they were.

The sound of a distant door opening snapped them out of their reverie. Someone was here. Was it Lachlan, wandering in search of comfort? A cultist hoping for an illegal taste of their blood? Perhaps, they allowed the ridiculous thought briefly, it was a rescue. Perhaps it was a hero, a friend, Dahara, or James, or Archer and his team.

Of course not. Nobody knew they were even in this time, let alone in this place. They were trapped in the belly of a sterile beast with blood flowing in its bricks and mortar.

A tall body came into blurry view at the edge of their vision, and they turned in time to see Kurt pass the observation window and enter. He was wearing a plain blue polo and khaki trousers, no lab coat, and this was definitely not a scheduled experiment. Caroline would be here if it was; she was in charge, even of her older brother.

Kurt hesitated in the doorway, face tight. He, like his sister, like many others, had been given Northlight's blood to drink. He was beholden to it for his health, beholden to keeping Irene happy with his work. An illicit visit was jeopardising that.

After a long moment, he stepped inside properly, closing the door. The room was too large, empty without the students in it, and for a moment he seemed like a dinghy adrift at sea. But he came to port at Northlight's side, hands wringing together briefly before reaching out to Northlight as they often had, brushing hair off their face. They were warm and steady, and Northlight fought not to relax at the touch. These moments had kept them grounded while they were hanging from the chains before the lab, the brief visits from the doctor who checked their eyes and forehead. It was a welcome relief.

“I've paused the cameras,” Kurt whispered. His eyes darted behind his glasses. “Lachlan is asleep. He's fine, he's healing – impossibly fast.”

Northlight closed their eyes briefly, relieved despite knowing the price.

Kurt’s hand shook for a moment as he adjusted their hair again, nudging clumps of it back, near-black with grime. “You cried, earlier. When they… During the experiment.” His face was sallow with fear and pre-emptive regret. He took a breath through his teeth, as if flinching before even saying the words: “If I take off the muzzle…will you tell me why?”

Northlight clenched their jaw for a moment, flexing it in the only minute way they could. They nodded.

Kurt’s exhale was shuddered, but his hands moved steadily again, committed. He unbuckled the straps, letting them fall loose before easing the hard plastic away from Northlight’s jaw. It clung to them, refusing to let go of its deep grooves, until Kurt’s gentle fingers pressed their skin free of it in light motions.

He held it there, an inch from Northlight’s face, as his chest heaved with huge breaths. “Tell me,” he urged them, “tell me now or I'll put it back.”

Northlight looked at him. He hadn’t slept. He wasn’t even in pyjamas. He had been awake since the fatal experiment hours ago. He was clearly suffering for it. Perhaps he was afraid of nightmares. Perhaps he was realising that he lived one.

He was a man who needed to believe, they supposed, meeting his wild stare. A man with a big heart, who could be kind and generous, but had sunk so deeply into this cause that he was scared of it being wrong.

Could they bring a man like this to the surface?

“I…” they began, rasped in a scorch of pain that clamped their face like the muzzle itself. They forced onward, the words more air than voice: “I cried because they killed him. She killed him and gambled his life on bringing him back. I cried because he sat still and welcomed death.”

Wide green eyes move between theirs. “You felt sad?”

“I felt g-grief.” They forced a swallow, wincing. “I have seen – death,” they inhaled fire, exhaled smoke, “but this, m-my body used to make s-slaves out of vict-tims… Hh…” The next word was too faint, and they licked their dry lips. “He,” they said, and felt their lip crack with the shape of it, “can't survive without it no-ow. He'll get sick. Weak and fra-agile.”

The effect wasn’t so instant, from what little they knew, but the words had the desired effect. Kurt, predictably, thought of himself first, not Lachlan. And where Lachlan had been given a mixture that was barely pink, Kurt had drunk almost directly from Northlight's open wound. “Sick?” he echoed. “The point is so you don't get sick. People who take it stay healthy, they don't get sick or die, they heal from injuries.”

“At first,” Northlight agreed, nodding their aching head. It felt like their jaw was about to swell shut but they wanted to keep moving it for as long as they could, and that meant talking. “It helps at first. But it comes with its own price. You trade one disease for another.”

Kurt shook his head, not buying it or not wanting to. “I’ve seen it. Seen it used on people long-term. Lachlan's brother has a heart condition, they both do, we kept them alive. His brother had a heart attack, we cured him of the aftermath. We saved his life. We could save it again if he has another, if we’re fast enough. If we have enough.”

“I don’t need his se-secrets.” They had to stop, coughing a puff of painful air. Their face screamed at them for moving it, and they were pulling on their cuffs with the need to hold and massage its tender sides. “It doesn't m-matter. This isn’t…”

They held such power over this man, who had only ever seen what he expected to see. They had to pull the blindfold free.

“Isn’t an argument,” they conclude once they've caught their breath. “My body, my power. You, others… It is an addiction. Without it you rot. How d-do you think your – lady’s s-skin got so grey? Her eyes reddened?”

Staring openly in horror, Kurt’s mouth found the motion to say, “She’s just that old, that…”

“I'm at least as old as h-her,” they whispered. They sucked in a breath, wanting to deliver this with the certainty of an oracle. “You stole magic that wasn’t yours. Your body will reject it. You can only d-delay death, never defeat it.”

“You defeated it,” Kurt objected, then his voice strengthened as he persuaded himself, “You don’t age, you don’t die – you’re lying.”

“I’m not human,” Northlight reminded him bitterly, “you say so yourself—”

“Don’t we have to try?” The interruption stole Northlight’s breath. Kurt’s face was flushed, as if he were on the verge of tears. “Don’t we have to, if there’s any chance, any way to save lives, to stop suffering, even if it brings you pain and misery—”

“Every moment of every day—”

“—your life is only one, and it's never going to end, this is a tiny fragment of your life and we’re trying to save countless people, so why can’t you accept that your power can be for everyone?”

They took a breath to reply, and the feel of it dragging against the sides of their throat told them that their words were numbered. They could move their mouth at last, but they were parched, and the words wouldn't come out for much longer.

They hadn’t had any water to drink since Kurt himself provided it.

“It won’t be a cure.” They swallowed, then had to cough as the sides of their throat closed together with all the gentleness of gnashing teeth. “I don't disagree. I t-take your point, but it isn’t a cure…”

“We’ll find something to stabilise it,” Kurt replied with conviction. “And even if it’s not forever, it’s less pain, less sudden loss… It’s a safety net. It’s choice.”

Nausea shuddered through them. Having a choice about mortality, whether to live a greying, decaying creature or die when the earth calls you? Who would want to become like Irene? Her body was so frail she went nowhere without her aide. She wore makeup and dark glasses to hide the toll on her body. She stayed secluded, terrified of losing what years she had stolen from their veins. She was a husk.

“You d-didn't choose,” they point out, grimacing. “She chose, she – other people – they choose if-f you can…”

“For now,” Kurt tells them with soothing confidence. “Only while we test it. All of us are happy to give our lives, to make you our work. The public will get the completed version. No more death, illness or injury. Happier people, longer lives, less suffering and pain. The whole world will change.”

“A world built on blood.”

“Blood paid on behalf of the rest of the world, to keep them safe. Is that not worthwhile to you?”

Northlight opened their mouth to reply, but their voice only rasped. They mouthed the disavowal instead. No, because this isn’t for them. This is to control them.

It was a useless loop. Any problems with the panacea would be experimented away. Northlight's suffering was too irrelevant to matter. Their leader, the central driving force of the whole cult, was only a half-dead shade of a human because she hadn't been able to refine the elixir as well as they could now.

Pure belief was not related to reality. It could not be debated, argued or disproven. Northlight could not help someone who would never choose to listen. Their voice had given out, but there was nothing left to say.

After a minute, Kurt sighed. “This isn't why I came in,” he admitted. The feverish shine had gone out of his eyes. He seemed tired. “You aren't human? You really seem… But of course not. Your blood…”

Northlight swallowed, even knowing it would hurt, like nails descending their windpipe. They exhaled into a whisper. “Do I have to be human to feel? I have lived and loved among you either way.”

Kurt’s eyes found theirs. He never lingered on the scar that crossed their face, always looking straight into their eyes when he felt the need. Northlight realised, for perhaps the first time, that despite the doctor’s age and qualifications, he truly was the younger of the two of them.

The stare felt like it was sucking them in, dragging them into Kurt’s own mind, and they looked back with both hands clenched.

When it ended, it was because Kurt looked away. He didn't say anything. He only put the muzzle back on and left Northlight alone.

[niragisqueenofhearts]

men i could fix ch.2

MICHAEL LANGDON

Heyyyyy, did you miss me? I bet you did.

Alright so Michael Langdon, Satan in a sunday hat (props to anyone who knows where that saying is from), the literal antichrist, what's there to say about him that anyone else hasn't said?

Michael is definitely one of my favorite American horror story "villains."

Why did i put villain in quotes? Lemme explain.

(I suggest don't read this if you haven't seen AHS: Apocalypse yet and don't want any spoilers.)

So, as we all know, Michael is the son of Satan, he started killing arguably when he was just in the womb of his mother Vivian. He fed off the nutrients of his twin brother and then traded his mother's life for his during his birth. And then from months old to 3 years old he begun to kill small animals before killing his first human at the age of 3. As the days went on, he also begun to physically age overnight thus his powers and bloodlust becoming more stronger than ever.

With all the horrible things Michael had already committed, Constance, his grandmother, had been become weary and stressed and later committed suicide and refused to see him in ghost form. A distressed Michael then found comfort in Ben Harmon, as Ben was more of a father figure to Michael. Michael was also then rejected by Tate Langdon, his father technically as he impregnated Vivian. One dark night, the founder of the church of Satan and his followers arrived at the murder house and commenced a ritual which brought Michael to accept his role as the destroyer of mankind.

Why did i just explain this man's entire story that everyone already knows? Well, that brings me to how I could fix him.

Technically, there's no "fixing" Michael. He is the son of the Devil so his role in society was already predetermined in blood. All of his actions were basically decisions made by his subconscious by his "evil" side, the only reason he was created by the devil was only to wreak havoc on earth.

He's not all bad though, we see in the series times where he's showed genuine emotions and remorse for his action even though he has no control over them, like when he snapped out of his trance after unknowingly trying to strangle his grandmother while she slept, or after finding out that Ms. Meed was killed. Unfortunately, this is about how far as his human side goes besides just presenting as human.

Honestly, regardless of all the things he did, Michael just needed some love. He was outcasted by his family, the woman that was a real mother to him was killed by the coven and his own father didn't want anything to do with him. All of this eventually turned to resentment and just led him deeper into darkness. He was abandoned, alone and scared. All he wanted was someone to listen, to understand him and help him find his place in the world. He really did deserve better.

[It's currently 2:08am as I'm posting this. MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE!!!]

[fantasyinvader]

Today's thought was on the supposed Crest system. Sylvain does say in Hopes there is supposed to be one, but in reality each House does it's own thing. This seems to be a really big thing in the Empire when you look at it.

Let's look at what Hanneman says in his support with Dorothea. While in English it's his own personal definition of nobility, in the Japanese it's said to be the original definition of Wilhelm's meritocracy. That being that the nobility were knowledge was supposed to be valued, alongside protecting and guiding the people in your care. Library books also say that Wilhelm put down any House that tried to increase it's own power. However, Hanneman notes that those who were empowered by this system exploited the power they were given, using it to hold themselves above those they deemed commoners.

Hanneman and Linhardt themselves both show a folly with this. They're both academics, seeking knowledge about Crests to the point they both don't really care about governing Fodlan. They both care more about their studies than they do leading the people, and considering that they both join Edelgard unless recruited being knowledgable doesn't mean that they're moral by nature. Lin can be upset at what Solon does during White Clouds, but he'll still join Edelgard unless Byleth shows him the way. Likewise, Hanneman can talk about the nobility's decline, but he'll still turn against Rhea and fight for someone who was helping turn people into monsters and values strength.

The story with the original Duke Aegir, where the Imperial throne was wagered in a duel, seems to suggest there was a shift in what "merit" was viewed as. Sometime after the War of Heroes, it shifted to strength. In Ferdinand's support with Edelgard, he mentions that the children of nobiltiy were pushed to succeed, if they failed to meet expectations they would be kicked out of their Houses. Ferdinand's comment would suggest that even before Edelgard took over the Empire was still practicing a meritocracy. Children without merit would lose their positions, so they were made to perform their best. It's this setup that Ferdinand holds up as why the nobility are superior individuals than the commoners, the commoners don't have the same drive to succeed that was drilled into the nobility.

But then we look at Caspar's family. Caspar's grandfather wanted to give his title to Randolph, a younger son from his second wife. But he couldn't just snap his fingers and disinherit Leopold, not when the guy has the army at his back. And from what we can see, while Leopold is dumb muscle, Randolph isn't exactly a good commander. The position went to the oldest son, just like what Caspar says is happening with his brother. We never see the brother or hear about any exploits for him despite him being afraid of losing his position, something that happens in some of Caspar's Flower endings (with the Japanese making Caspar's merit more questionable, seeing as his forces are "often out of control" over there rather than "occasionally reckless"). Caspar trains because he gets no inheritance under the current system, which would suggest that estates are not broken up among multiple children. One child takes all.

Miklan may have lost his position as heir due to not having a Crest, but he wasn't disinherited until after multiple attempts on Sylvain's life.

But from what we can see, the empire doesn't seem to hold women in high regard. Bernadetta is listen as an heir in the English text for her titles, but putting the Japanese through translate says she's the son of House Varley. I put Linhardt's through translate, I get "legitimate son," Caspar is second son, Ferdinand is labelled as both "eldest son" and "former heir." Constance is listed as "former heir". Hubert also gets "eldest son." Petra gets "grandson of King Brigid and heir to the throne," so it really appears that Bernie is just supposed to be Varley's child. Not heir. Bernadetta being listed as heir seems to be a change made by the translation.

Edit: According to @renisfan the English trasnlation is correct, and the same word for heir is used for Bernie.

We see something similar with Dorothea's translation, her mother being listed as a maid in the Japanese text but a lady-in-waiting in the English, which would suggest that her mother did come from somewhere in the Imperial nobility before possibly being tossed out for being pregnant out of wedlock (her supports also say her mom was a maid iirc, while her father may have been a noble based on a story she heard).

But if Bernie is supposed to be the heir to her family… her father didn't train her as such. He trained her to be a submissive trophy wife for whomever would pay her dowry. Thanks to Hopes, we also have an incident where a daughter of Varley was supposed to take over the position of Minister of Religious Affairs, with an agreement with an Emperor to bolster that claim before a new Emperor took over and didn't go with it, supporting a son trying to take it despite his father's wishes and the promise. Made a show of it too, abolishing the Southern Church for the ensuing Insurrection. Likewise, we have Hanneman's sister being married off as a broodmare which lead to her death.

Then we have Constance, her family dying to protect the Empire in an invasion by Brigid and Dagda and her House being rewarded for their service via abolishment. We also have Mercedes, her baron father dying leaving behind a pregnant wife, a wife whose line bears a Crest on top of that, only for the House to be abolished without a male lead. Mercedes's mother was left to marry Baron Bartels in order to survive, before eventually fleeing to the Kingdom. Having a Crest did nothing to help either Constance or Mercedes in terms of position, Monica is in this same boat considering her father was a mere baron as well. It's just a status symbol, something that can make someone more attractive in the eyes of a potential spouse (see also Bernie and Hanneman's sister).

In the Kingdom, we see positions of power being handed out due to utility. Being able to use a relic to protect the lands from invasion regardless of gender or bringing a bigass fort with you when you defect from the Empire puts people into positions of power. Likewise, we have Lonato being awarded a title for his service. The Kingdom is a meritocracy as well, and Lambert's attempts to empower the commoners was cut short due to being betrayed at Duscur. In the Alliance, Holst is heir due to his accomplishments protecting the country despite his sister having a Crest and he does not. Edmund got his position at the roundtable through his ability's as a business man, while Marianne is supposed to keep her Crest a secret despite her birth father being listed as a lord. The Alliance's meritocracy is based around finance.

But the Empire's? Look at it. It's a system that keeps women down, with the eldest male son getting everything. It was supposed to be a meritocracy, but that system changed as those who embodied the original ideals weren't concerned about governing. Instead, those concerned with gaining power managed to change it over time, cementing their Houses's authority while keeping those they deemed below them down. While Ferdinand's comments suggest there still is supposed to be a meritocracy in place, it seems to be more a House-by-House thing as the oldest male criteria seems to be the main thing. No real mentions of other families threatening to kick out a son, not even lazy-ass Linhardt.

And of course, this all torpedoes Edelgard's claims that Crests are everything.

[sophieswundergarten]

Listen. I really like how the show does stuff, especially with bringing such tricky and important scenes to life visually. But nothing will ever top the book's version of the Whisperer Death Scene.

Let us begin, the Whisperer repeated. Reynie braced himself. Let the worst come. He would be brave enough to resist, and he would not be alone. Let us begin, the Whisperer repeated, more insistently. Not just yet, Reynie thought. Let us begin. First let me polish my spectacles, Reynie thought. Let us begin. Not without my bucket, Reynie insisted. He heard Mr. Curtain muttering behind him. Let us begin, let us begin, let us begin. Rules and schools are tools for fools, Reynie thought.

Already the blue helmet had lowered onto the tiny girl’s head. Her eyes were squeezed shut, her mouth set tight and grim. She looked as cranky and unhappy as they had ever seen her. “Reynie Muldoon!” she shouted, and Mr. Curtain’s delighted grin shifted into a frown. The waves of blankness began to subside. “Why . . . ,” Kate said, shaking her head to clear it. “Why did she yell your name?” “The Whisperer asks for your name,” Reynie said. “Constance is resisting it.” “Sticky Washington!” Constance shouted, and Mr. Curtain quivered with irritation. “That’s the first time she ever used my nickname,” Sticky said. He sat up on his knees. “But why has the brainsweeping stopped?” “Mr. Curtain must be focusing all the power on her,” Reynie said in a wondering tone. “But why would he need to do that?” Reynie leaped to his feet, having realized the answer. “The Great Kate Weather Machine!” Constance shouted, and behind her Mr. Curtain said, “Bah!” “Because she’s resisting!” Reynie cried. “And no one can resist like Constance!”

[cryptic-symbols]

For the ask game how about.....

There Will Be No Divorce and Satanic Messiah

--@mark-on-you

how about.....yes!

there will be no divorce: this is one of my fav goats songs by far. not on the shortlist but still. definitely one of my favourites so bear with me for a minute while I go INSANE. I recently got to hear it live and woo boy. MAN.

If I ever want to drive myself insane

All I have to do is watch you breathing

I mean the song is called there will be no divorce right. so these people dont exactly have the easiest relationship; they’re on the brink. but something brings them back.

watching someone sleep is something we usually associate with creeps but if you’ve ever loved someone a lot and shared a bed with them you know its also a gesture of love: wanting to perceive someone while they’re blind to you, see the gentle relaxation in their face, enjoy their presence quietly and the vulnerability of sleeping by or with someone.

common wisdom also says that the quirks you love most about someone are the exact things you come to hate. maybe this person breathes a little funny in their sleep, or the constancy of their presence has become a bit annoying. you will watch, you stay and perceive, but it irritates you. you know exactly how to let yourself get wound up by them, and it is simultaneously one of the most vulnerable things you can let them do to you.

after it all, they’re still together, definitively not divorced, because as much as they drive each other insane, there’s something worth staying for. It gets me!!! It gets me!!!!!

And you gathered your hair behind your head

Like G-d was gonna catch you by the ponytail

This is the part of the song that most people seem to know, that most people sang along to live, so for that reason it feels a little special. Something about a whole room of people perceiving the protagonist’s partner in this song that is such a vulnerable moment. I mean, John Darnielle said he wrote this song for his wife!!!

I’m not going to lie: I have no idea what this line means. Maybe she wants to be caught by something powerful, to feel wanted. Maybe there’s the threat of being plucked away to someone or somewhere else that she wants to avoid because she wants to stay. I don’t know.

satanic messiah: oooh, I actually hadn’t listened to this one before even though I knew about it. I am in the camp of This Is A Song About Attending A Death Metal Concert because 1) its relatable and 2) it makes the most sense based on John Darnielle’s background.

We were all made young when he stepped onto the stage

Like an animal escaping from his cage

This is what I imagine to be the experience of an aging alternative whose been in the scene for a while, going to yet another gig: reconnecting with the inner angsty teenager that first found this passion. It is the feeling of letting something loose deep inside you, something that doesn’t get to see the light very much anymore. you are born again like the antichrist.

I am reminded of the internet famous tiger poem by that one six year old. You know the one: