#creation is a reaction to the world around us and all that

[ibblescribbles]

Hi, so so sorry if this is a weird message;; but I’ve been a big fan of ur art since I want to say 2018? Ish? And you were a huge art inspiration and one of the reasons I still draw today, and while I was younger and in a not so great situation watching your speed paints helped me through a lot of it, so I wanted to say thank you! I love your art today and have bought a couple charms & a print and absolutely adore them :) again sorry if this is a weird message to receive but seriously, thank you a lot!!

It's not weird at all! Thank you for taking the time to send me such a thoughtful message! It's crazy that youve stuck around for so long, and I'm touched to hear that my art inspired you that much!! One of the biggest things I want for my art is to be able to reach other people and connect to them on an emotional level-- that's always been really important to me! So messages like these really make me feel like it's still worth doing. I know for me, seeing other artists'v process and not just the final, polished pieces helps motivate me a lot with my own! I pour a lot of my emotions into my artwork and see it as a part of my own identity. Honestly, I've been struggling a lot with both my art and depression these past few months-- recently I feel like I'm constantly fighting myself and questioning whether what I'm doing is worth it or good enough. But knowing that there are people out there who appreciate it enough to reach out helps me immensely. I hope you will continue to create! I will continue too!!!

[pallastrology]

observations on pisces

artwork by georg janny

saturn in pisces ('tis the season...) suffers greatly with feelings of guilt. something else they can struggle with is fear. the fear is often existential, and the natives experience it from a young age. they will often 'ritualise' their fears, creating structures that help them feel safe and protected, but in doing so, these structures can actually intermingle with their sense of guilt and lead to them feeling responsible for things no person is. they really do have the weight of the world on their shoulders sometimes.

pisces suns are often labeled as easily influenced, and while this isn't entirely untrue, i think it's a bit oversimplified. pisces is receptive and sensitive, taking in a lot from their environment and reading between the lines easily. they are a mutable sign, and so aren't naturally stubborn people. but when well-developed, sun in pisces is a very self-aware placement and that reflective, open nature helps them to actually become quite sure about their beliefs and values. so i suppose, an undeveloped pisces sun will be easily influenced, but maybe not a pisces sun in general.

with pisces in the seventh house, the stereotype is that the native is the type to dream about a prince charming figure who'll sweep them off their feet. in reality, this placement is more likely to not really know what they want from a relationship, to struggle with healthy boundaries, and to feel they have to save - or be saved by - their partner. it takes time and steady reflection to understand where these difficulties come from and how to heal their relationship with love.

mars in pisces tends to really struggle with conflict. they turn it over and over, ruminating endlessly. should i have said this? done that? did i go too far? pisces almost always struggles with boundaries and emotional conflict, but with mars here there's so much energy directed to working on these issues, it can feel like an impassable bridge to the native. as much as they struggle however, they are also fiercely caring, sensitive and surprisingly brave individuals, who can push themselves hard when they are connected to something important.

pisces moons will often disappear when things overwhelm them. they can get a reputation for being a bad friend because of this, despite their caring nature. while they can easily fall into despair over the issue, it doesn't need to be permanent; a big learning curve for these natives is learning to both not induce this crushing overwhelm and urge to vanish, and to better manage their emotions and health when things pop up unexpectedly. embracing their sister sign, virgo, can be a way forward here.

mercury in pisces, when writing or otherwise creating, is very sensitive to the feeling of their medium. so with words, for example, the word has to evoke the right feeling before it's considered to be the right word for the native to use. they are actually pretty perfectionistic in this sense, though their creations can seem to lack a strong, distinctive style; they are mutable after all, and this quality shines through in their work, as they flit through various influences and inspirations.

pisces ascendants get a reputation for being sweet and shy. while they are on the shy side, they are highly receptive and read deeply into what's going on around them, absorbing the atmosphere like a sponge does water. it's a placement that's often infantilised, probably because neptunian placements in general are easily misunderstood. but pisces risings are not so much innocent little faery children; they're a little reclusive, highly attuned to those around them, and easily confused by their own emotions and reactions.

venus in pisces is selfless to a fault, but there's an interesting process going on beneath the native's awareness. they often have a romanticised view of selflessness as a concept, and idealise being nice and giving. so while they are genuinely kind, caring and self-sacrificing people, they do gain something, unconsciously, from giving themselves to others; it bolsters their sense of self and lifts their often low view of themselves. which is part of why it can be so hard for them to set healthy boundaries and stop giving everything to everyone.

[the-scythes-pen]

Bleeding Pastels (Kabukimono x Reader)

The puppet's life is colourful; while tainted and stained with a dark smudge in the middle- originating from his creation- at least it won't discolour the world he lives in...

right?

Yandere!Scaramouche x Reader

Kabukimono era

Canon-divergent. Some abuse briefly described later on. Symbolism-heavy. Read between the rainbow to find the shadows that the light casts.

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

I. Pink

The day that the boy first saw you, he almost mistook you for a god.

You sat alone underneath wispy sunlight that broke through the gaps in the bright pink petals above you. Gently fluttering down around you, picking up with the occasional spring breeze; sakura petals adorned your atmosphere and lay like a bed around your form.

The shade of pink that dusted the boy's cheeks was only somewhat darker then the beautiful pale pink of the sakura and it's flowers.

The boy could only stare in awe, lost in his own world of reverence and admiration- that was until a beautiful, soft voice pulled him out of his head.

"And who might you be?"

The puppet blinks. Your bright, vivid irises held him captive among the falling blossoms; his pale pink lips open and close without a sound- the boy unable to find a response.

You laugh. Gods, that sound makes something within him stir. It steals his artificial breath and replaces it with something so soft and light that he does not dare to look too deep into.

"Well? There's room for both of us here, if you want." You say with a smile, palm patting the soft grass beside you.

It takes a moment for the puppet to register your words, but as soon as he does it's like a string has been pulled taut- and he longs to loosen the tension that has formed. He makes his way over to you, his knees folded underneath him as he merely stares at you silently.

"You're that boy that guy brought with him a couple days ago, right? What's your name?"

For once, the puppet speaks.

"I... Don't know." His voice is soft, light, and almost somewhat childish. He sounds so innocent and boyish.

Your eyes wander down his face and trail down his arms. He doesn't say anything, but he can see you stop and stare at the joints in the middle of his arms; the ones attached with a ball and some hinges.

"Hey, you're not human, are you?" You say with curiosity in your tone, as you pull yourself onto your knees to take a closer look. Your hands are soft as they take ahold of his wrist and hand, pulling it out to a stretch as you stare in wonder at his unblemished skin and the way his arm connects to the rest of his body.

The puppet watches as a bright pink petal flutters down against the untainted sky and lands delicately in your hair.

"I hope you forgive me for oogling you; I've just never met someone like you before..."

Your eyes flicker up to meet his wide-eyed stare; and you offer him a smile as bright as the sunlight above.

"Your skin is so soft, and the way your elbows are designed is so cool! Are your knees like this too?"

The puppet doesn't say anything; instead unable to find an appropriate response as all he can do is nod his head.

"Really? That's so cool!" You say with wonder to match his own.

"I'm (Y/N). I-"

Your mouth hangs open, but no words escape you as you watch the puppet's hand slowly move atop your head. Delicate fingers pluck what his eyes are so intensely trained on from your hair, before bringing it down infront of the both of you to see.

"This... was on you."

You blank at the pink petal between his fingers, and for a moment the puppet's mind whirs to life with questions of whether he had done something wrong, but you soon snap out of your trance with a laugh. The boy sits still, confused about your reaction.

"Thank you. You don't have to show it to me though." You say before snatching the soft object from him and swiftly placing it atop his own head.

You laugh at the expression on his face from your actions, and the puppet finds the wonderful sound brings a smile to his face. He doesn't quite understand why you did that, or why you're laughing, but he finds your joy infectious all the same.

II. Purple

Over time, the people of Tatarasuna as well as the puppet himself learned how he differed and how he was similar to the humans around him.

He felt pain and bled just like they did. Yet, he didn't seem to have a heart. He didn't need to eat or drink either, but he claimed that he could and that he wanted to do so to 'become more human'.

The puppet- now called Kabukimono by his peers- also didn't quite understand social ques and what was wrong or right. After finding out that humans would often disrobe and bathe when they became dirty, the puppet had tried to do the same in the nearby stream of village. That little event had a few people swiftly ushering him to put his clothes back on while laughing awkwardly; as if he was a child who didn't truly know what he was doing.

Which, in all honestly, was pretty much what he was. A child who knew nothing about the world or people around him. But he was learning.

The pastel purple clothing that he was so often seen in flowed freely in the breeze; the smell of lavender was picked up by the summer wind off his freshly washed robes and filled his nostrils with the calming scent. It was the smell that adorned him whenever you were the one responsible for washing his clothes (as you often took turns among the other villagers to look after him).

He had grown to love that scent.

"Just... like... this." You said as you dragged the teeth of the comb through his wet hair; letting the Kabukimono watch your actions through the mirror.

"Think you got it?" He nods at your question, and you hand him the comb.

His hand is steady as he mimics your previous movements; dragging the teeth of the light purple comb through the strands of dark indigo atop his head. After a few strokes, he pulls the comb away; a deep violet staining the teeth as if to remind him that he wasn't like you.

You smile at him. "Perfect! Just like that. Now you're all set to wash yourself next time you need to."

The Kabukimono stares down at the comb in his hands; staring down at the violet that taints the pastel shade. You had gotten him this comb, it was one of the first objects he had ever owned. And now, because of him, it was stained a dark purple from the dye that was used for his colour- that still coated his hair.

And yet, the same dark stain that now marred his gift from you had dyed your palms a similar shade to that of the comb- a bright, pastel purple. Originally, he had panicked and apologized profusely for staining you, for tainting you, but you merely had laughed and said you didn't mind. That it would go away eventually.

And while others wore gloves when taking care of him and his hair, you didn't. You let your fingertips run through the dark locks and dance across the top of his forehead; you let him feel the warmth and softness of your touch as you scrubbed the dirt and dust that had accumulated in his hair. You let his colour stain you; and somehow, you managed to make the dark purple such a bright and beautiful shade of lavender once it touched your skin.

"My... arms hurt. Can you do this for me?" He says quietly, turning towards you and holding the comb back up to you with a pleading look in his eyes. You smile, the corners of your eyes crinkling in adoration at the Kabukimono's barely-concealed lie.

You had done a lot to take care of him and teach him about various things; he knew that lying was 'bad' and that he shouldn't do it. But even so, on rare occasion- like right now- he would say something small that didn't match what you already knew. And it would always end up with you taking a little extra care of him then you otherwise would have.

You knew you shouldn't let him keeping lying, but he was so bad at telling them, and it was adorable how he yearned for attention... so you couldn't make yourself scold him for his behaviour. You let this lie slide like all the others.

"Alright, alright. Come on then, turn around."

You can see the corners of his mouth tip upward in a smile, however subtle, as he did as he was told and let you run both the comb and your fingers through his hair.

The Kabukimono couldn't help but watch your hands. To seek glimpses of the bright purple staining on your palms that could only have been from him. He always loved when the other humans would point out your coloured hands and comment on how you practically took sole care of him with how often your hands took on the familiar shade.

Even when he wasn't by your side like a loyal puppy, it was like a part of him was still with you. Even if at first he saw the colour as a stain upon your otherwise perfect skin, you had assured him that it was harmless, told him you liked the colour, even.

You had taught him that being 'selfish' is one of the 'bad' things, and he shouldn't be 'selfish'. But if it was so 'bad', then why did it feel good? Why did it feel good to leave a piece of him with you, as if to claim you as his own human?

The teeth of the comb grew ever darker as they sorted through his indigo hair.

III. Yellow

For a being that was supposedly crafted by the hands of the god of thunder, the Kabukimono couldn't help but jump at each loud roar of lightning that dared to light up the dark night.

"Oh, Kabuki..."

The puppet was shaking; his arms wrapped around his knees as he sat staring at the floor, trying to ignore each jolt of thunder only to be hyper aware of every crash of it outside the window.

The pity in your voice somehow comforted the puppet, even more so when you kneeled beside him to pull him into a hug.

"It's ok, you're not in any danger. The Electro Archon would never hurt us."

The Kabukimono still shook. Sure, she may never hurt you, but to him- every bolt that struck the earth was searching for him; the fruit of the anger and hatred he knew his mother held for him.

Each flash of lightning lit the inside of your warm home a bright yellow. A stark contrast to the usual deep purple of the electro element he knew so well.

Your hand smoothed over his back, the other wrapped around his shoulders as you held him close. Another flash had him jump once again; burying his face into your shoulder as if to try to hide from the storm.

"Oh, hey, hey... It's ok..." You tried to soothe him, your voice gentle and low as his arms wrapped around you to hold tightly to your clothes.

Your arms wrapped around him were warm, firm, secure, as if you were the one shielding him from the tumultuous rain and deafening thunder.

"Ok, c'mon, lets go to bed."

The boy in your arms sniffled as you pushed him away from you, guiding him towards your plush bed.

"B-But... My bed..." He mumbled out, his eyes falling onto a small mat off to the side that you had done your best to make comfortable. And as shabby as it was, the Kabukimono loved it. You had made it for him, after all.

"You won't be able to sleep if you're over there, will you? This storm doesn't look like it's going to stop anytime soon, so... Why don't you stay with me? That way, I can protect you."

The deep purples of his eyes were wide and glossy with tears at your proposal; but he swiftly nodded and climbed onto the bed with you following suit.

The two of you got settled underneath the blankets, and the Kabukimono couldn't tell if your bed was just more comfortable then his, or if he really liked being beside you that much more then being alone. He watched as you shifted around; moving the pillow you normally slept on to rest underneath his head as you lay flat on the mattress next to him.

You smiled at him, a smile that made his chest tighten and something within his artificial body malfunction. His breath caught in his throat at the feeling of your fingers brushing along the side of his face, pushing his bangs out of the way of his eyes.

"Do you think you'll be able to sleep? I'll be right here if you need me."

The rain was loud on the old glass of your home; a flash of lightning bringing attention to the lack of purple that the Kabukimono had so loved to see on your hands.

But the fear of the thunder triumphed over his sadness that his hair no longer stained your palms; and he couldn't help but jump at the noise that shook him to his core once again.

Trembling hands grabbed your soft, steady one and brought it up to his cheek. The Kabukimono rested your palm against his flesh, nuzzling into it even as he shook in fear. You couldn't help but pity him, the pad of your thumb brushing over his cheekbone as you indulged him.

"You won't leave me, right?" He says quietly, warily, as if he's afraid the storm will hear his weakness and aim straight for his non existent heart.

The smile you give him almost looks sad. But it remains as sweet as it always does nonetheless.

"Never."

"You promise?"

Another crash of thunder has him jump once again, but with your hand against his cheek, he's quick to recover.

"I promise."

He peers at you and sees no trace of malice; no trace of annoyance or deception or betrayal. All he sees is you; your beautiful smile and crinkled eyes, glistening even in the darkest of nights.

The next flash of yellow lightning that illuminates the two of you only proves to show that even against the Electro Archon herself; your light is so much brighter then anything the god could conjure to harm him.

He doesn't jump at the sudden thunder. Instead, he lets out a shaky breath and pulls you forward- bringing your head onto the pillow that you had given him before he buries his head right underneath your chin; pushing himself into your body as if he wished to become one with you.

You can't help but smile at his unintended affection. Your hands move to embrace him; to smooth over his back and run your fingers through his hair.

"It's... bad to break a promise." He mumbled into your chest. "You won't break your promise, right?"

You let out a soft chuckle, tightening your embrace as you let the boy cling to you for life.

"Of course I won't. I love you too much to hurt you like that."

Your words were accentuated with another jolt of thunder. Another flash of yellow. And then a second bolt of lightning- this time, right through the cavity where his heart would have been.

I love you.

The words repeated in his head like a prayer; and he nestled himself deeper into your embrace in an attempt to muffle his thoughts and hide the pink on his cheeks.

The innocent, pure little Kabukimono had heard the words before. Humans who were close, who kissed and slept in beds together would say it to one another. Humans who were bound for life by little bands of metal on their fingers would whisper it to eachother whenever they pleased.

His tongue burned- yearned to repeat the words back to you, but something inside of him refused. Rejected the idea of feeling the intimacy of human love... of the idea that he could be with you just like all the other humans who loved eachother.

That night, when the puppet and his human had fallen asleep, the Kabukimono found himself without a single dream.

IV. Blue

Even when the Kabukimono wasn't under your care for that day, he still hovered near to where you were.

The old woman who was tasked to care for him that day was a vile creature. One who refused to acknowledge the puppet as anything close to human; instead treating him as merely an object, a plaything, something that could do whatever she wanted of him without complaint.

Because the poor Kabukimono didn't know how.

The puppet watched from where he sat by a large bucket. His hands were filthy; red and sore from scrubbing away at the clothing that he was forced to wash by his current caretaker.

He watched as you bid farewell to your fellow villagers; a basket hung off your arm as you walked into the nearby woods.

Oh, how he longed to follow you. To see where you were off to, to accompany you and watch every move you made.

He looked down at the water in the bucket, browned with dirt and dust. Surely, the water flowing through the stream in the forest would be nice and clean, right?

He's quick to set everything aside; emptying the water into the nearby crops like he was instructed, and then following you into the forest.

It was like your presence had merely teased him; he stumbled blindly through the brush hoping that you would be found in this direction. That he could, at the very least, be able to lay his gaze upon you once more and lighten this heavy feeling in his chest.

What the Kabukimono hadn't thought about, though, was just what you may be doing out here in the forest. And what he saw when he finally approached the familiar babbling brook stole his artificial breath away- the feeling all to familiar to that time had first laid eyes upon you.

The water was a beautiful crystal blue; your clothing lay next to the stream, a telltale sign of what he had stumbled across.

You looked divine. Beautiful. The way the water ran by your bare form and dripped so deliciously from your skin had the puppet star-struck. Pink was quick to dust his pale cheeks.

Then, like an all-too-familiar flash of sickeningly-yellow thunder, a thought occurred to him.

He shouldn't be seeing this.

Sudden panic washed over him, a fear he had felt so many times before now baring it's fangs at him once more.

If you caught him, you would leave him too.

He bolted.

The trees rushed by him in a blur of green; sticks cracking beneath his feet as he retraced his path out of the forest. Birds flew and squirrels panicked as he went by them like the roaring wind; and finally he reemerged from the trees to the sight of the village before him.

He felt warm. He couldn't get the image of you out of his head. The picture of you bathing in such beautiful blue waters was ethereal. He felt his chest tighten even further at the memory.

"You damn puppet! Where have you been!?"

The Kabukimono's face paled instantly at the shrill sound.

"You thought you could just go for a stroll through the forest, huh?! You didn't even finish your chores!! And where's my water pail!?"

The voice boomed. It's origin angrily stomping up to him before grabbing his wrist so harshly, he was sure it would have bruised if he were human.

If he were human.

"You damned-... Can't you do anything right!?" The old woman shouted, dragging the shrinking boy along behind her and towards her old, decrepit house.

"I'm sorry-" He tried to speak, tried to make himself heard over the pounding in his ears.

The woman was like a constant flash of thunder; waiting for the perfect moment to strike the puppet where he stood. And this time, it looked like he was all alone in this storm.

The woman tossed open her front door before dragging the Kabukimono inside, harshly slamming the door shut before she turned to him with a wild look in her eye. The puppet looked absolutely pathetic as tears welled in the corners of his violet eyes.

She shouted at him. Cursed at him. Pushed, pulled, hit him in whatever way she felt fit to.

The Kabukimono shut his eyes, and recalled the divine scene he had stumbled across just a little while prior. He pictured you, standing within the crystal blue water of the stream, and he pictured himself standing infront of you. The sky such a rich, pale blue above the two of you as you found comfort in one another's embrace.

"Are you listening to me!?"

The puppet opened his eyes, and all he saw was blue. The world was blue, he was blue, the old woman was blue, and the constant patter of liquid splashing onto wood from his cheek was blue as well.

A sad, soulless, cold blue. The blue of loneliness and pain.

He remembered how beautiful you looked underneath the cherry blossoms that day he first met you. The shade of pale pink that so beautifully complimented the darker pink on his cheeks that day.

He remembered how tightly you held him under the flashes of yellow that threatened to consume him whole. How you told him you loved him- how you promised you would never leave him.

And he remembered the blue of the water running by your hips. The blue of the sky above, the blue of the cotton of your clothing.

The pounding in his ears was overwhelmingly loud.

A blue hand raised itself before him.

Before it could hit it's target, the pounding stopped.

Everything stopped.

V. Red

The world's colours had returned. But they were so much darker then before. As if drenched in thick shadows that clung even to the most well-lit areas.

And it was like the Kabukimono was just seeing the real world for the first time.

The green of the foliage outside had turned from a beautiful bright shade to a deep, forest colour. And even darker still were the greens inside; where moss and mildew grew along the corners of the old house, and the various stains from archons-know-what seemingly having appeared from nowhere now dotting the surroundings with the deepest shade of black.

The puppet had seen black before. But this was different. Darker. And it was like the entire world had been tainted by those stains of black.

Even the deep brown of the rotting wood below almost seemingly started turning black as a dark red seeped into it's pores.

Such a deep shade of red it was. The colour akin to the same that flowed freely from his cheek; although his was so much brighter then the vile woman who stained the floorboards.

No- if he wasn't a human, then she wasn't either. She was merely a creature, a worm- that now lie pathetically limp at his feet.

Her words, despite his attempt to drown them out, had seeped into his head regardless.

You will never be human.

You will never be wanted.

You will never be needed.

Perhaps she had been correct.

After all, she had only been repeating what he had been telling himself already.

But, if she was correct, then what did that make of the words that the other villagers had said? What, pray tell, did that make the humans themselves?

Liars. All of them. Filthy, red-stained liars.

They had never once truly cared about him. Merely tossing him scraps, at best; demanding that he do things for them and barely leaving him to fend for himself.

Barely giving him space in their village, barely caring to try and be 'polite' with him- even when they demanded that he be polite around everyone he interacted with.

At first, he just accepted it. Of course he did. The world was bright, colourful, beautiful- but now, he's seen it for what it truly is. He's seen the suffering, the pain, the lies; the shadows etched into every crevice of this forsaken world.

He knows that they had lied to him when they said they considered him a fellow human.

And you had taught him, the saint that you are, that liars are bad.

Oh, you... how beautiful you are. How wonderful and amazing and kind you are. Out of everyone in this damned, pathetic village, you had been the one to treat him like an equal. To treat him like a human.

To love him like a human.

His chest tightened at the memory of your voice above his head that night; "I love you" falling so effortlessly from your lips as you held him close.

Archons, you loved him. You promised him you would never leave him. And you had never broken your promises before.

You loved him.

Deep purple eyes fell to the human shaped insect on the floor. And a laugh bubbled up from within him.

He did something bad. Terrible. He had made the woman who hurt him stop moving.

But it felt good.

And if it felt so good, then... why stop?

He was already stained a deep, dark black. He could never go back to being as pure as you had seen him. Perhaps, he had always been this way- perhaps that's why his so called 'mother' and her fox-pet had decided to seal away what was rightfully his. The power that she had inlaid within him.

The power that now pounded so freely through him. And it seemed like the only way to silence it was to let it go.

As the puppet exited the house, a trail of red followed behind him. Electro crackled at his fingertips as he walked towards the center of the village, and he revelled in the hushed and desperate whispers of the humans he passed by.

The pounding in his ears- in his head- only grew stronger with each passing second. The crackling electro a disgusting shade of darkened, tainted yellow as it emanated from him.

And like a bolt of thunder that once had scared him so; flashes of yellow now flew through the open air and showed no mercy to the humans he was surrounded by.

Screams filled the air, filled his ears- and all he could do was laugh. Such pathetic insects, all scrambling to seek shelter from his divine wrath. It was chaotic, beautiful, as red stained the ground and painted the houses in it's corruption.

A gentle breeze kissed the cheek that had rapidly healed it's wound. With it, it brought delicate pale pink petals from the sakura trees that were so abundant in this land.

The village fell still. Nothing but the blossoms that danced on the wind dared to move; to catch the eye of the puppet-murderer.

"K-Kabuki...?"

A voice so small called out to him, stirring him from his thoughtless-thoughts.

He turned to you, and it was like your very presence made the surrounding area brighten to how it was before. Suddenly the world was perfect again; bright and happy and welcoming and loving.

Your eyes, so beautiful and vibrant, were wide and tinged with fear. Your hair was still wet- evidence of your bath, but all it served was to remind the puppet of what he had seen. Of the divinity he had been so blessed to witness.

You didn't move as he walked up to you. You couldn't. Shock had it's tight grasp on your body and mind, and you were unable to even speak at the bloody scene around you.

The puppet smiled so sweetly at you. And despite being the same smile as he had always given you, it no longer looked so innocent.

"I love you." He said, voice proud and unwavering.

Your eyes darted to meet his. He looked so...

dark.

"What...?" You couldn't even process what he said.

"You said you loved me that night, and I never said it back. I love you, (Y/N)."

"What-... what did you do..?" Your voice trailed off into a pathetic whisper, and it made the puppet smirk as his hand moved up to cup your cheek- much like how yours had once done for him.

"They were... bad. All of them. They could have hurt you, like they did to me..." The pad of his thumb spread a deep red over your skin as it rubbed your cheek. "But you love me. You promised you would never leave me. And I know you would never hurt me like they did..."

It was like his eyes had become gateways to the abyss itself; dark, devoid of life- of the boy you had once loved. Black stained his beautiful purple irises; tainted the beautiful colour with darkness and something sinister. Just like the blood that now stained your cheek.

The puppet-murderer intently watched your face drain of colour; intently watched as your pupils shrunk into pinpricks- and made note of your body starting to tremble.

He knew the signs of fear- he himself had expressed the same many times before. He knew you were scared. His chest felt like it tightened around a non-existent heart... he didn't want to see you scared. Not of him.

"...They were going to hurt you. I-I heard them. T-They were waiting for you to come back, a-and they would have... I-I couldn't let them do that. I couldn't let them be bad. I-I wanted to protect you..."

You still continued to tremble. It was like you had barely heard the lie he had told- but you didn't push him away when he pulled you into a cold, blood-stained embrace. And that was enough for him.

"I will... protect you. Stay with you. I will... be good for you."

...another lie. He was no longer good- he could never be good again. His soul- his hands- were now permanently stained red... a red that would be drained of colour as soon as you left his side- and he refused to be seen with that vile black ick. He refused to let you go.

It was almost sickening how swiftly he was able to return to how he was just hours ago... innocent, sweet, gentle. Even as the vibrant crimson stained his once-white flesh. Tainted him. Changed him.

As you gazed at him with a slacked-jaw expression, you could see the surrounding area- the massacred village- devoid of colour... of life. As if the puppet-murderer had drained the pinks and purples and blues and reds and it all congregated into a swirling black in the center of his beautiful indigo irises.

Was your beautiful, sweet little puppet-boy always so... heartless?

The way he pressed his lips to yours was robotic. Stiff and almost forced- but you knew that this was just his way of doing things, until he got used to it.

Until he got used to kissing you. Loving you. Tainting you.

A colourless tear cascaded down your cheek, your eyes closed as the puppet continued to kiss you as sweetly and gently as he could.

When he pulled away, he gently took your hands into his own, and looked down to see you trembling in his grasp. He noticed just how pretty your hands were covered in red.

And his violet eyes flicked up to your face, your hair- his red-stained fingers reaching up to pluck a crimson petal from your hair.

The pretty pink looked good on you, he once thought.

But he thinks you look so much better covered in red.

[nakedbibi333]

Consciousness Is the Only Reality - Neville Goddard

I have heard time and time again that people find Neville's teachings to be too complicated to understand. I wanted to share some of my notes on his lectures and books as I re-read them. The point of this is to make it as easy to understand and accessible as possible. I linked the lecture above in case you want to read the actual lecture and you can use my notes as a guide if anything seems too convoluted or confusing.

All quotes are taken directly from the lecture.

Introduction

Before we begin, it’s important to mention that Neville bases his teachings on the Bible, which he says is meant to be interpreted as a metaphorical/allegorical text, rather than a historical text. 

The Name of God

This lecture begins with Neville explaining the meaning of God’s name. 

In short, it contains references to your I AM-ness (awareness), your imagination, your ability to feel as you desire to be and to take your desire out of the imaginary and reflect it onto the physical. 

When you break down the name of God, it explains the foundation of reality, your consciousness. 

“As you assume that you are that which you want to be, you have completed the name of God” 

You have the power of creation within you. 

“The question arises: What is God? God is man’s consciousness, his awareness, his I AM-ness”

You Become What You Are Conscious of Being and Dying to the Old State

Since your consciousness is the cause or the foundation of reality, then what you are conscious of being must be impressed upon the physical reality.

You have the power to leave behind your current state/undesired reality.

Your current reality has been created through consciousness, and you can leave it behind and recreate a new reality with anything that you desire.

You can die to the old state and create a new one. (You no longer become conscious of the old state--redirect your attention)

Story of Isaac and His Sons Esau and Jacob

The story of Isaac and his sons Esau and Jacob expresses the idea that your brain cannot tell the difference between what you experience in imagination and what you experience in the physical world. 

For example, your brain expresses the same physiological and psychological reaction to you imagining a hug and hugging someone in real life. 

If you place reality upon your imaginal acts and feel as though you are truly experiencing that which is taking place solely in your mind, then your brain believes that you are truly experiencing that. 

Leave the physical alone, do not take action, and do not reason.

You leave the physical world alone and simply use your imagination to change your life

You do not have to worry about the physical manifestation of your desire, that is not your job. Your only job is to imagine that you have what you desire. 

“In other words, you remain faithful to this subjective reality [that which you desire to manifest] and you do not take back from it the power of birth. You gave it the right of birth and it is going to become objective within this world of yours. There is no room in this limited space of yours for two things to occupy the same space at the same time. By making the subjective real, it resurrects itself within your world.” 

You cannot occupy two opposing states -- you cannot believe one thing and also believe the opposite at the same time (ex. You can’t simultaneously believe the statement “I am rich” while also believing the statement “I am poor.”)

The only way you can stop a manifestation from being reflected in the physical is by not being faithful to your new reality (failing to die to the old state/continuing to be double-minded). 

You will die to the old state simply by remaining faithful to the new one. 

“Do not ask yourself how this thing is going to be. It does not matter if your reason denies it. It does not matter if all the world around you denies it.” 

You never have to worry about how it will come to be, because that is not your responsibility. It will happen without any effort on your part. Your only job is to believe in the fulfillment of your desire. Everything else will be taken care of for you. You do not need to reason with it, you cannot let external circumstances get in the way of it, and you don’t need to think about what actions you need to take to “make it happen.” You do not need to do anything but remain in that fulfilled state.

SATS and Lullaby

State akin to sleep - the creative act. 

A sensory experience that implies the fulfillment of your desire. 

Remove your attention from the physical world, go into your imagination fully, and grant your imaginal act reality.

Don’t let the mind wander, make the imaginal act short and sweet, at the point of the fulfillment of your desire. 

Minimal effort is the key, it should not cost you too much energy to fully experience your desire fulfilled.

Lullaby method

When you are nearing sleep, repeat a short phrase that implies fulfillment of your desire. 

2-3 words that can easily be repeated without too much focus. 

The point is to fall asleep while saying it over and over in your mind.

You No Longer Hunger For It When It Is Fulfilled

“When satisfaction is yours, you no longer hunger for it” 

If you have successfully fulfilled the desire in imagination and you believe that it is yours, you no longer feel want of it, because you already have it. 

You no longer think of it as separate from you. 

You have granted it to yourself in imagination, then it is already yours, and there is nothing else to do but persist in that state.

Your Imagination Is The Cause

“Know that your consciousness is the only reality. Then know what you want to be. Then assume the feeling of being that which you want to be, and remain faithful to your assumption, living and acting on your conviction.”

Consciousness is the only reality -- it is the source of everything in the physical

“You draw from within yourself that which you now want to express as something objective to yourself” 

All your manifestations come from you. You are drawing the fulfillment of your desires from within yourself, from consciousness.

If you can imagine it, then it is possible.

“Your consciousness is the mother-father, there is no other cause in the world” 

Everything that happens in the physical world is caused and created by your consciousness. 

There is no other cause than your I AM-ness/your imagination. 

Since your imagination is the only cause, then the only way to change the outer world is through imagination itself.

“As I stand here, having discovered that my consciousness is God, and that I can by simply feeling that I AM what I want to be transform myself into the likeness of that which I am assuming I am; I know now that I am all that it takes to scale this mountain” 

Neville says that you don’t need anything other than your consciousness/imagination to achieve anything you want. You don’t need money, luck, power, etc. You only need imagination.

How to Manifest

“Take the idea you want to embody, and assume that you are already it. Lose yourself in feeling this assumption is solidly real. As you give it this sense of reality, you have given it the blessing which belongs to the objective world, and you do not have to aid its birth any more than you have to aid the birth of a child or a seed you plant in the ground” 

Define your objective (your desire), create an imaginal act that suggests the fulfillment of that objective, grant it reality, and persist in that new state.

You do not have to take any kind of physical action for it to manifest, you trust in your imaginal act and allow it to come to be on its own.

Do not wait to die to the old state and embody the state that you desire. If you desire something now, change your state now. Fulfill it within imagination the moment you feel it. 

“When my world conforms to my assumption the prophecy is fulfilled”

You were always meant to use your consciousness to manifest your life. In this lecture, Neville is basically saying that the entire point of the Bible is to teach you how to manifest through allegory and metaphor.

[vaguely-concerned]

it probably says something either sad or deeply unfortunate about me as a person, but I'm darkly amused to see some people react to the reveal of the ultimate permeability of souls in tlt as a triumphant thing -- the "you can't take 'loved' away!!!" side of it all -- when my first reaction was such an immediate wave of 'oh, oh so this is why this series is horror, I truly understand now' distress haha. ngl the final confirmation of the self not being inviolable in the deepest way freaks me the fuck out far more than any moment of body horror in the series has managed. (these two elements are of course the two sides of one thematic coin; it's about the horror of our bodies and minds and selves not being inviolable things, and about the effect of violence on them on so many different levels. violence psychological and interpersonal, physical, subtextually sexual, emotional, medical, political, a whole unlovely smörgåsbord of indignity and violation a person can be exposed to, and on a broader scale the spectrum of violence colonialism wields). The world and other people being capable of leaving indelible marks on us for good or ill through their presence in our lives is of course a pretty self-evident demonstrable truth in the real world, but somehow having it be proven metaphysically just uh. Fucks me up! 

It also drives home to me just how perfectly Muir has captured the dilemma at the heart of human connection and intimacy: the fact that the thing that gives us life and meaning is also capable of harming us so deeply. the same thing that can be so beautiful — even in a bittersweet, violently transformative form like with the creation of Paul — when done mutually and consensually and compassionately, is the same process that means someone like John can touch someone else's soul and 'after he's put his fingers on something, you'll never find anyone else's fingerprints on it; too much noise'. I think the text itself — the whole series, because to me this is what it is ultimately about, this tension between individuation/self vs. love/connection/enmeshment — is far more ambivalent in its treatment of it than saying it’s inherently a good thing or inherently a bad thing. The only thing it says for sure is that it is always a thing, that thinking you’re ever getting away from it is the height of futility, and that through being alive (or even through being dead lol) it is something you have to engage with in some way no matter what. Contact with other people is deeply necessary — without it we sicken and die. it can be the most beautiful and meaningful thing in a human life, and the most unspeakably horrific. All of these people are searching for some way to be whole, whether in total self-contained sufficiency on their own or in melding with someone else as their ‘other half’, and stumbling around in the dark they reach for each other and score deep wounds into the thing they’re trying to touch even when they don’t mean to. Taken to horrific extremes with the form of lyctorhood John guided his disciples to when they were ‘children — playing in the reflections of stars in a pool of water, thinking it was space’, because while people hurt each other all the time with differing levels of intentionality behind it, what John did was deliberate. It weaponizes the misapprehension of what closeness must be and destroys everyone involved in the process… and all because it leaves John the one sun their ruined lives have left to orbit around, because that’s the closest thing his soul will allow to connection. He doesn’t understand that to truly touch something you have to truly let it touch you back, and then wonders why he’s never satisfied.   

‘The horrors of love’ has been memed to death, I know, but… yeah. That is what it is, isn’t it.

[ohnoitsjetster]

Didn’t Herbert West technically TECHNICALLY try to baby trap Dan in Bride of Reanimator?

Thoughts?

(Im sorry this took forever to respond to. life got in the way, of my silly little words)

technically, yes. The main intention was the same. But "Baby Trap" does not even start to explain the shit Herbert pulled in Bride of Reanimator.

thoughts? you want THOUGHTS? alright how about let me break down exactly what Herbert did here:

That man stole Megan's heart from an evidence locker and stored it in his fridge. When Dan tried to leave Herbert, He offered the heart to Dan with every ounce of reverence he could deliver without getting down on one knee.

that is to say, Herbert anticipated that Dan would leave him and saw that he loved Megan. So his reaction was to steal Megan's actual physical HEART, and give it to Dan as an offering to force him to stay.

He vaguely explained that he was about to baby trap him with it, to which Dan agreed because of his blind love for Meg, and his blind love for Herbert, and because, in the words of Bruce Abbot, "no one will ever get rich overestimating Dan's bad taste."

(This could maybe be because the world of Reanimator uses weird sci-fi logic where the heart contains the person's personality or life or whatever, and it'd actually bring Meg back (even though these movies seemed pretty brain-focused thus far), in which case, pretty good manipulator leverage! nice job, Herbie! Otherwise, its either because Herbert knew Dan would like this weird creepy gesture of love, or because Herbert thought this weird creepy gesture of love was a normal and good idea, and coincidentally Dan was that same wavelength of out-of-touch freak as Herbert, because they're just meant for each other or something. That last option is my personal favorite)

So, then Herbert goes around the hospital STEALING more body parts off corpses (former patients who also presumably received some form of care and attention from Dan), trying to create Dan's perfect woman based on his shallow perception of whatever it is that straight, allosexual, relatively neurotypical men like (maybe since Herbert can't be what Dan wants romantically, he can create it for him and earn love that way (that cannot be good for His internalized transphobia)).

so then he meticulously assembles a woman like an Ikea cabinet and proceeds to give Dan the worlds most sensual elevator pitch, using... a line that he heard Dan use with his girlfriend when he was eavesdropping on them having sex. He tries to explain why this is the perfect woman for all your woman needs! Like uhhh sex, and... sex, and lawyering? maybe murder? (I guess he thinks it'd be nice to have a woman who can kill for you and defend your crimes in a court of law. That does sound useful in their situation)

Then he watched the Bride fight Francesca like some sort of underground girlfriend fighting ring, as if the larger and stronger girl would win ownership of our poor pathetic Dr Cain. Unfortunately Herbert's creation broke down to nothing when it removed its own heart to give it to Dan in the same exact gesture with which Herbert showed Dan the heart earlier.

Pure heterosexual coincidence, of course. There is absolutely nothing odd about Herbert's gift to Daniel being a grotesque amalgamation of everyone Dan loved instead of him and everything those people had to offer Dan, fueled by the pumping of Megan's heart (whom Herbert had hated and competed with), a heart both stolen and offered willingly, one both frozen and thawed, both beating and dead. There Dan stays, too close, yet too far. (am i reading into it- You Bet)

Yup. Pure coincidence. And also nothing suspicious about it being a creature created of such concentrated love, reverence, devotion, and bitter fear of rejection, that at the moment of being pushed away, it entirely self destructs because its only purpose was to love Dan and be loved by him. Its only purpose was to be perfect for Dan, to be enough for him, to be some action of Herberts blood sweat and tears that could ever be wanted by him. But of course Herbert doesn't understand Daniel - understand people - as well as he hoped too. Dan is horrified. No clearer rejection than that. If we see her as an extension of Herbert, it's obviously the last straw. Herbert truly did everything for Dan, not only was he still unlovable, but repulsive, an affront to... what have you; god, nature, some simple short-sighted ideal of what a human should be. Above that Dan could see the seams of the uncanny imitation of his past loves, and the love that laid beneath was too much for him. Too loud, too fast, too raw and bloody. So it dies. The heart is given, and thrown away.

What I'm trying to say is that shit was crazy. Herbert could have done a much more cut and dry baby trap. He could have reanimated some random kid, forcing Dan to stick around and protect it. That would have been its own special kind of fucked up and is probably a good fanfic prompt. But noooo, Herbert had to do the most psychosexual, convoluted, batshit, traumatizing, bloody, gory, and frankly unnecessary declaration of love that could be achieved by one little scientist with nothing to his name but a little green potion and every mental illness. I for one think it was a fantastic idea.

No tldr, ur just gonna have to match my freak on this one. Hope my mad ramblings made some sense. Peace and love

[endereies]

SNOWBALL FIGHT - MS

No Nut November - Day 21

NNN Masterlist...

-➤ You and Matt mess about in the snow

You often found asylum in the heat of your own home during the bitter months, wrapped up in numerous blankets. Today was slightly different. The cold seasons usually give you frosty winds that just ice over the dew drops in the grass but overnight, it fell in unique white dust forms.

Soft yet crunchy snow had fallen onto the ground which gave the concrete an extra crisp layer atop it. It was so peaceful.

You dragged your boyfriend out of bed, bundling up in any fabric you could find. Even then, your breath became visible in the air, fading into invisibility. You let out a sigh, captivated and taken aback by the pretty scene in front of you. That was until Matt dragged you by your wrist into the snow.

Immediately, he was grabbing balls of snow, rolling them around to increase the size of them. “Am I doing this myself, or what?” Quickly you got his idea in your mind and started on your own mount of snow. By the time you had rummaged all the snow that was in your area, the feeling in your feet had dissipated, yet you were too distracted by Matt to notice.

His tongue stuck out in concentration as he sculpted the next layer of what was a forming snowman. He was working at it intently, using his gloved hands to morph the snow into perfect spheres. Carefully, he places each ball on top of each other, diligently working on creating its perfect form. Occasionally, he checks in on your progress while he continues. He glanced over at you as you worked on your own ball of snow, and he immediately chuckled seeing the completely focused look on your face. Your eyes were narrowed in concentration as you continued to form your smooth ball, and he had to laugh at the way you were standing out in the freezing cold without a care in the world.

After a few moments, you finally met his gaze and chuckled as you lifted your creation. “Want any help with that, love?”

“Nope…I got it!” You paused your speech as you reached onto your tiptoes to gently nudge your ball onto the others that Matt had made. He rolled his eyes a bit and shook his head as he watched you struggling to reach up to put your snowy creation on the top of the snowman. A small smile crept across his face as he watched you, seeing how you seemed completely determined to do this without his help.

That was until you dropped it.

Matt’s eyes widened as the ball of snow toppled over its desired position and landed on his head, immediately coating his hair in a layer of white. He stood there for a moment, completely frozen before a look of mock horror covered his face. He lifted his hands and began wiping the excess snow from his head, turning in your direction and eyeing you with a playful glare.

Both your hands covered your mouth. All you could do was stand there in shock as your boyfriend rattled the snow out of his hair, turning to you.

“Shit, I’m sorry I didn’t mean t-“he laughs at your immediate reaction, shaking his head to get the rest of the snow from his hair. A mischievous grin forms on his face as he takes a step towards you, his eyes locked on yours

"Oh no no no, you're gonna pay for that, baby..." He laughs at your immediate reaction, shaking his head to get the rest of the snow from his hair.

Matt ignored the wet feeling of melted snow down his back and reached for a handful of it from the ground. He formed it into a crude ball, tossing it up and down to test the firmness. The playful look in his eyes said all you needed to know before throwing it at you.

A small smirk tugged at his lips when he saw it hit your chest, remnants sticking to your shirt. Immediately, he reaches down and grabs more handfuls of snow, enough to make a few snowballs. In retaliation, you did the same. Grabbing whatever you could and pelting it at him, the force making him jump.

It was no longer about the snow, it was about you.

His footsteps crunched in the snow as he sprinted after you, a playful gleam in his eyes and a smirk still dancing on his lips. He was determined to catch up with you, and he wasn't going to stop until he had you in his grasp. There was a playful intensity in his movements as he made his way towards you, quickly moving to tackle you into the snow.

“Matt wait!” You attempt to run in the snow, the unusual difference making you stumble as you start to move.

He laughed as you tried to call out to him. He was too focused on trying to reach you to pay any attention to your words. Matt continued his pursuit, closing the gap between you with each stride he took. His eyes were locked on the sight of you running, and he couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement and determination as he chased after you. Finally, he made his move. lunging at you and with a smooth agile motion, he wrapped his arms around your torso, tackling you to the thick snow. Giggles escaped between the two of you.

“Gotcha!” Matt’s gaze fell on your face, the way you laughed, the redness of your cheeks. He couldn’t help but admire you.

The sound of your laughter fell into a silence, the pair of you laying there together. The stillness only broken by the cool breeze stirring through your hair. he lifted one hand, gently brushing away some of the snow that remained on your face. He then moved his hand to trace a soft line from your temple to your jaw, his touch delicate and reverent. He looked up at you, a soft smile still on his lips as he spoke.

“Stay still, you’ve got a little something…just,” He paused, using this opportunity to plant his lips on yours. He held his position for a few more moments, his eyes fluttering closed as he savoured the kiss. After a moment he pulled away, still looking at you delicately. “There.”

“You’re ridiculous…”

“Mhm, love you too.”

@melliflws @yuhayeee @st7rnioioss @sturn-bugz @bueckerrss @worldlxvlys @raysmayhem-72 @patscorner @y0urm4m @bernardsbendystraws @junnniiieee07 @luverboychris @jnkvivi @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @shorthairchris @colorthecosmos444 @anabethinking @zay-sturns @anyaa2s @emilyfaith2003 @jassturn @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @sturniolosiphone @ribread03 @slutf4rmatt @spaghetti835928383 @flouvela

© ENDEREIES 2024

[aperfectlylesbian]

Okay but- Where are Rio's headcanons?!

I honestly need ideas, answers, some headcanons about Rio. Please, she's the fucking personification of Death, come on!

She's literally madly in love with an extremely stubborn, majestic and ironic witch, a witch who suffered for years at her mother's hands, killed her own Coven, a witch with an innate power to "take magic from those who are unworthy", and who also fell madly in love, not only with Death herself, but with Rio herself.

She has literally seen ages pass, wars happen, society change, empires and kingdoms rise and fall, she has seen the creation of the most useless thing possible to the most deadly in existence.

She saw everything that ever happened in the land of the living and knows all those who went to the land of the dead.

She’s immortal, because she's not just a being, she's a concept, a concept that will never be erased, because everything that lives, dies one day, she's everything and nothing, memory and oblivion.

She's present both physically and metaphorically in everything. She's in all religions, all stories, all ideas that have ever been imagined or created or modified.

She has heard all possible words of hate, she has been considered guilty by all of us at some point in our lives, she has been or is worshipped by thousands of people, she's celebrated as much as she's respected around the world.

Do you guys have any idea how many things we can think of that were seen or influenced by Rio? In the entire history of the whole world?!

I would really like to give more depth to this. Not just for extremely important things, of course, but for simple things, like:

What was the first emotion Rio felt in her entire existence?

What was the first thing she felt when she reaped the soul of the first living creature to die?

Was Agatha the first, the very first, living being that intrigued Rio?

When did Rio start to develop her own sense of style? Was she influenced by fashion trends from past eras or did she always wear whatever she felt like?

Was Rio ever, even slightly, at any point in her existence, innocent?

Did she always have this chaotic personality? Or did she form this personality over time?

Has she ever been physically intimate with other humans before Agatha (experience makes perfect, they say)? If so, why? Just out of curiosity?

What was it like when Rio experienced pleasure for the first time in her existence?

Did she always like to be adored/worshipped?

Has she ever blamed herself for the pain that death causes the living at any point?

What's her least favorite living race (in the universe)?

Why did she choose to manifest herself in the physical form of a witch? And why a green witch?

Has she ever lost control of her magic? If so, what would have been the consequences?

I mean, at the beginning of everything, when the first living creature died, Rio was there. Has she been around the universe forever, even when there was no living thing? Would the death of a star count in this case? I don't know, but I do know that she's so old, but at the same time, everything is new to her, everything is always changing and transforming, and she's more than used to all of this.

There are mundane things that were once completely new to her!

What was the first time and the first thing she ate? What did it taste like? Sour? Sweet? Salty?

When was the first bath Rio took IN HER ENTIRE EXISTENCE?!

What was the first language that Rio spoke in the early days of the world?

What was the first outfit she wore?

Why is her physical shape like this? What inspired her to choose this shape?

How did she learn to use the Internet as the years went by?

Before Agatha, before Nicholas, had Rio ever cried for any living being?

What was the first photo Rio took when photography was invented?

Has Rio ever influenced the death of any important figure in world history?

What was her reaction to the invention of electricity?

What's her favorite year, decade, century, millennium, era?

When was the first time she slept? And following that, what was the first dream or nightmare she had?

Was there any time in history when she intervened to stop deaths?

These are questions so... full of doubts and that would bring so much lore to us! Ugh, I just wish there was old photos of Rio — like those of Agatha — her in another era, with another style of clothing.

There must be cave paintings on cave walls that represent Rio, in case, Lady Death, have you guys ever thought about that?!

This is the kind of headcanon I feel is missing for a character as complex as her.

She should probably throw out some random "you're too young for this" to Agatha when they first met, I am absolutely sure of that. The funny thing about this is that I feel like she would still say this to Agatha every, now and then, no matter how much time passes.

[xxsycamore]

COOLDOWN

╰┈➤ 🖤You're feeling hot, and Ellis worries that it's a result of overworking yourself again. It's too bad that his methods of helping you have the opposite effect of cooling you down.

Ellis Twilight x f!Reader • rating: E (MDNI) • tags: Semi-Public Sex; Temperature Play; Oral Sex; Cunnilingus; Sexual Tension • wordcount: 1,927 • masterlist

a/n: A BELATED BIRTHDAY GIFT FOR @nightghoul381 !!! Happy birthday dear Ghoulie!! This is just a small thank-you for all the wonderful art and fics you've blessed us with, they're always living rent-free in my head. You know which ones I'm talking about. Wishing you many more fun moments on here, gacha luck, all the Ellis content... you deserve it all <3

Part of my Sexy Ikemen Summer Creation Challenge. Prompts: At the festival booth you're volunteering at + Go down on them with a cold tongue

"We're having a lot of customers! I had no idea running an ice cream booth can be so hectic!"

You place your hands on your hips and let out a sigh that does little to erase the liveliness off your face. Ellis finishes restocking one of the containers and gives you a look charged with just a bit of worry. He knows you've been enjoying yourself, but at the same time, even you are recognizing how tiresome this whole ordeal has become.

"You know we can close the booth now… Jude and Roger already took care of the thieves." Ellis reminds, his hand on your shoulder managing to startle you - it's only proof of how tiredness has dulled your reactions.

The mission given to you tonight revolved around catching the culprits behind the latest jewelry heist, expected to make their next big hit here, on the festival, allured by the shiny first-place reward for the competitions held during it. It turned out to be an easy job for your Crownmates, as the other pair consisting of Jude and Roger already reported to you and Ellis that the target had been neutralized.

While you ended up playing a key part in the mission, being on the lookout for the target the whole time from your strategically situated ice cream booth you volunteer at, you couldn't help but be a bit skeptical about, it in the beginning. While you fully understood that this was the safest option for you to help them out, it just sounded a bit ridiculous to remain here and sell ice cream…

This all changed when you realized how good of an opportunity this is to spend more time with your lover Ellis, especially since you both have been busy lately.

The booth's cramped interior keeps you in close proximity at all times, so much that Ellis' scent fills your head completely. He doesn't need to raise his voice more than a whisper for you to hear him, despite the noise of the crowd outside your little shared space. It's like there's a barrier separating you from the rest of the world, so you can't help but jump every time you snap out of your assigned crowd-watching between taking orders, by Ellis' hand accidentally bumping into yours.

You'd joke and say that the only reason your booth is so successful is because Ellis is quite popular with the town's people. He'd shake his head and argue that it must be you who lure them in, because of the happy smile you're able to put on their faces.

"It's alright! I can keep going a little longer. It's close to the end of the festival, might as well try to make it! Here, I'll have some nice cooling ice cream and replenish my energy in no time, just watch!"

Ellis smiles at your stubbornness, readily passing you the ice cream scoop. You feel his eyes on you, and it brings heat to your cheeks knowing that he's probably taking note of the flavors you mix, wanting to know your preferences as always. It's all the more reason to have your cool treat faster, before this heat can get the better of you.

"Mmm, it's so good. No wonder we have so much business! Here, try it too, Ellis!"

You lift the little spoon to Ellis, fully expecting him to take it from your grasp, but instead, he leans down and puts the end of it in his mouth. Your heart skips a beat at the unexpected dose of cuteness, and you barely survive it as he takes a moment to properly sweep it clean with his tongue and savor it thoroughly.

"You're right. It's delicious."

You nod and hurry to put some more ice cream in your mouth just as an excuse to remove your gaze from Ellis' dazzling smile… but you still feel his eyes on you.

"Are you feeling hot?"

Your eyes widen, spoon still in your mouth, as Ellis suddenly grasps the sides of your face, bringing himself closer to you.

"Here, let me. I'm worried that you overworked yourself and got a fever."

Before you know it, a pair of lips is pressing to your forehead ever so gently.

Ellis' lips are so cold… They feel good against your overheated skin.

"I'm afraid I can't judge properly. Should we get Roger? I think he might still be around."

"No, I'm fine! It's just…"

Despite being done with his little examination, Ellis doesn't stop holding your face in his large, roughened hands. There's no escaping from that twilight gaze, shimmering in question from your sudden protest.

"I'm feeling hot because… You're too close…"

In another second, Ellis' mouth opens in a small o-shape.

"Oh."

He removes his hands from you, taking a step back. "I'm sorry that I put my lips on you, then. I didn't realize."

"No, they were chilled from the ice cream and felt so good, actually…"

You said it without thinking, worried that you pushed Ellis away. It's the very truth but you'd rather keep it to yourself because…

"If that's so… Then it might help you cool down."

Because he'll never turn down an opportunity to make you feel better.

Ellis leans in close to you again, but slowly, giving you all the time to reject him. Heart hammering in your chest, you only turn your cheek to Ellis to receive his 'help'.

He plants a kiss on it, gentle as butterfly wings, and cooling as the air they're fanning into it.

It's only temporary however, because as expected, it only makes your blood pump hotter in your veins, receiving Ellis' attention after being in his presence for hours on end and not being able to be lovey-dovey with him.

He withdraws again before you can properly recover, and you see him retracting the poles that prop up the booth's shutter.

"Ellis…?"

"You're in need of a proper cooling down, so…" Ellis returns to you, and suddenly the room inside the booth feels as if it's shrunk drastically. He barely needs to encage you in his arms, but his scent flooding your lungs is so welcomed. The sounds of the crowd outside are a backdrop to Ellis' soft whispers, a sharp contrast between the intimacy and the reminder of where you are. He claims your lips next, and denying him is out of the question. Sucking on his plush lower lip, you want to rob him of all the sweetness and coolness lingering on it.

Once you're out of breath, Ellis lets go, taking in the expression on your face. He's smiling but his eyes are marked by a shade of lust now, and you're surprised to find him still playing along with the little game, taking another spoonful of the cold treat which has somewhat started to melt.

"Ah!"

Even if expected, the difference in temperature startles you when those mischievous lips find your burning nape.

"Here too… Let me kiss you."

His kisses begin littering the exposed surface of your skin, and once he runs out of it, he begins tugging down on the hem of your cleavage to cover more and more with his lips. Little shivers of shame run through you as your breasts spill out, but they're soon replaced with shivers of pleasure as soon as Ellis tongues at your nipples, just briefly enough to turn them into hard pebbles.

Quickly growing unsatisfied with his limitations, Ellis opts for finding the end of your dress and lifting it up instead, practically shoving himself underneath it just to kiss your belly.

The tickling sensation makes a few breathless chuckles escape your mouth, and you put your hands on Ellis' shoulders, though you're not even close to pushing him away.

"Hehe… Seems like we're closed for the day, actually…"

You come to the conclusion as soon as you realize Ellis is sliding his fingers under the waistband of your panties from both sides and dragging them down. There's no going back now, and despite the embarrassment lingering at the back of your mind, you're desperate to feel Ellis when you need him most.

"Ahhh!—"

"Does it feel good? You're being so loud already."

He doesn't have to ask - the combination of his skilled tongue and the enhanced sensation from the clash of the different temperatures makes your legs weak. Your back rests against the wall of the booth as Ellis is seemingly hard at work to make you lose your footing. The hands that caressed his shoulders are now clinging to the fabric of his jacket, each flick of his tongue making your nails sink deeper.

Ellis switches to sucking at your swollen nub, only letting go when he notices your legs beginning to tremble. He laps at the new flood of juices he coaxed out of you, and the hotness of your heat has already erased every memory of the chillness he brought to you.

You don't have the heart to tell him his little plan of cooling you down was doomed to fail from the very beginning, as every place touched by his mouth has only been lit in flames as a result. Or maybe he knew all along.

"Ellis, I'm—!"

"Don't hold back. Come now."

His calm yet sultry voice echoes in your ears along with the thump of your own heartbeat, and soon your vision is overtaken by hot-white. Ellis works you to a powerful peak, not pausing his ministrations for a second. His strong hands keep your legs open, and they're your only anchor keeping you upright. A broken cry of his name comes out of you in a series of moans that you're barely able to keep low in volume.

In your dizziness, you don't realize when Ellis raised to his feet again, carefully arranging your disheveled clothing, sliding your panties back in place. He holds you in his arms for a moment until you can catch your breath, even if his sweet kisses are slowing the process.

"We can open the booth again if you want to. There's still ice cream left."

You blink into Ellis' arms, considering his offer for a second, then letting out a chuckle.

"I wonder if it would cause chaos if we were to bring it back home?"

You certainly don't imagine yourself bribing the rest of Crown with sweets, that's Victor's job. You wouldn't want to take it from him. Though there's something else worrying you.

"But Ellis…What about you?"

He gives you another smile before busying himself with opening the booth once again.

"Don't worry about me. It was enough to see you enjoy yourself."

Despite his reassurance, the air in your lungs escapes you in a sigh. While looking at Ellis, you notice that he's doing a repetitive motion of swinging his arm back and forth, flexing it, sort of as if it's gotten stiff.

Oh.

Feeling the heat return to your cheeks, you feel very guilty about giving Ellis a boner he can't tend to at the moment, even if both of you knew it was gonna happen.

Still, the image of him having to do that instead of waiting it out is somehow terribly hot to you. Along with the show of his well-toned arms, with shirt sleeves rolled up. Blaming it on being lightheaded from what he just did to you, you know you too should focus on anything but the newly formed arousal that pools in your already damp panties.

You just can't wait to make it up to Ellis, once you return home tonight.

Taglist: @arsnovacadenza @kimi00twin @g-kleran @thesirenwashere @devonares @galaxyprison @sadshaxk @starshards26 @thewitchofbooks @acethephoenix256 @ikevamp-shrine-2 @nad-zeta @crystal13unny @lordsister @ikemen-banshou   @themysticalbeing @otome-scribbles @rhodolitesrose @coornn @kpop-and-otome @queen-dahlia @kisara-16 @chaosangel767 @ikemenlibrary @queengiuliettafirstlady @aurora-morning @ikemenlover24 @mcofthemansion @joy-the-reader @katriniac @ikemen-writer @tele86 @lovely-bubb1es @aria-chikage @babyblue0t7 @rhodoliteschaos @shrimpy-kitsune @nightghoul381 @xbalayage @lucyw260 @kittygrimm88 @lokis-laugh @natimiles @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf @groovylita @justpeachyteastea Let me know if you want to be tagged/untagged!

[arc-tu-rus]

🦇 Today (10/27) marks the english release of:

Set in Hungary, during the years of World War I, we follow Mina, a young woman who finds herself faced with a dilemma that will cause a major chain reaction in her life. Between hiding her gender and dealing with a threat she never believed was real, the girl must make a choice between abandoning who she was or embracing every part of herself - all while the world crumbles around her.

I finally finished translating my VtM story! I'm well aware of how much I babble about my guys, but now I can finally share this complete work with the tumblr community! Allow me a moment of sentimentality saying that this is one of the things I'm most proud of in my life :')

Buying options: Gumroad 𓋹 Amazon 𓋹 Or simply via DMs! I'll send you a link with the files after payment :)

Oh! And if you use Goodreads, feel free to log your reading progress.

I assure you that I studied a lot of the subject (from Remarque's work to real documents) so as to not be insensitive with the real event; while I publish the translation today, this project started in 2022.

I still plan on writing two more, with each being simultaneously a complete narrative and a piece of their story! But, being 100% an independent work, it won't be here for a while.

Misc. Stuff: Art 𓋹 Board 𓋹 Playlists ♪ ♫ ♪

(Since my "drawing drive" is not necessarily linear with the plot, I didn't add illustrations to the e-book file)

Extra Disclaimers: • I priced it based on a poll I made, not only on bookstore costs, but if it sounds too much feel free to haggle! My intention is simply to share this story, not to become the next Bezos- • I removed all mentions of VtM/WoD creations so as to not have any legal troubles, since this is an official publication (with ISBN and all!). The rights of this work of fiction are also already registered and protected. • No A I was used in any part of this creation! It was all my sweat and tears work. I'm usually not the proudest person, quite the contrary, but it's kinda cool to be able to say that all this, the story, illustrations, translation, graphical project and physical production of the original portuguese release were all made by me :) • Not only this is a vampire story, it's also set in war; I recommend this book for an 18+ audience.

[twilghtkoo]

pairings. jungkook x reader (f)

genre. fluff, established relationship

warnings. mentions of the anime jujutsu kaisen, reader is a tease, one use of the word d3ad

notes. i’m still thinking about this live and i keep seeing clips of him on my fyp and i got an idea 💡 so enjoy this brain dump of vivian loving jungkooooook :3

[ masterlist ]

—

the sight you walked into was an amusing one, because why is your boyfriend in your kitchen vacuuming the air?

“what in the world are you doing?” you laugh out loud, startling him before he whips around and the loud noise of the appliance stops suddenly.

he relaxes once he sees it’s you, placing down the vacuum in its rightful spot.

“there was fruit flies in here, i told myself i’m not eating my lunch until all of them are gone.” he tells you, dragging his feet towards you to embrace you in his arms.

he dramatically drops his dead weight on you making you grunt. “oof- my big boy.” you coo, one hand is placed on his hip while the other is patting his head affectionately.

“always taking care of the critters in here, my hero!” you praise the man in your arms, knowing he thrives off it.

he giggles at that, releasing himself from you before sitting himself at the kitchen table. uncovering his plate of food that you assumed was to protect it from the annoying flies.

“you want some baby?” he generously asks you, his big doe eyes staring up at you patiently.

you hum, stepping towards him to peek at his food. “that does look yummy, can i just have a bite?”

jungkook scoots his chair back and widens his legs before patting his thigh for you to sit on.

you shake your head. “i just want a bite, i don’t want all of it.”

“i’m not giving you all my food dummy, i just want you to sit with me. please?” he pouts.

you roll your eyes but take a seat like he asked. he carefully picks up a ratio of each meat and rice before feeding you.

he doesn’t feast on his own til he sees that your satisfied with his creations, carefully gazing up at your eyes for any reactions.

“mmmm,” your eyes light up. “that’s delicious babe.”

he grins at that and eats a spoonful for himself. you throw your arm over his shoulders, rubbing his back and shoulders.

“we can start our anime today.” he says with his mouth full, something you always nag at him for because it’s gross. you don’t even have to say anything because you stare at him and he just quietly apologizes with his bunny teeth peeking out.

“oh yeah, jujutsu kaisen. we can watch that when you’re done, prepare snacks and everything and cuddle on the couch.” you clasp your hands together with excitement.

your eyes roam down to the silver chain dangling from his neck, a familiar silver ring hanging in the middle.

“oh you put it on a necklace,” you let out a small gasp, picking up the silver band from the chain with your thumb and pointer finger as you look closely at it.

the ring you gifted him on his birthday last year. not an engagement ring and not really a promise ring. but it does hold a lot of love from you to him.

“yeah, i didn’t really wanna wear rings today but i always wear this one so i decided to put it on one of my chains.”

you nod your head in a fond manner. “reminds me of yuta and rika.”

“except you’re not dead and i’m not cursed.” he points out.

you chuckle, “exactly.”

with the ring still between your fingers, you mindlessly loop your finger through it and lightly tug at it.

“baby, i’m trying to take a bite and you’re pulling me.”

you smirk, “give me a kiss and i’ll let you eat.”

you don’t have to tell him twice. he’d do anything to kiss you.

without a thought, he leans in and kisses you quickly, ending it with a loud ‘mwah’.

you scoff, tugging him with his necklace still looped around your finger. “what kind of kiss was that?”

“a jungkook one.”

you roll your eyes, tugging at the chain again to pull him closer towards you, both of you were so close that you just had to pucker your lips for yours to reach his. jungkook’s breath was wavering as he stared at your parted lips.

smirking, you slowly tilt your head and lean in watching as his eyes flutter shut and his lips parted, ready to kiss you the way you wanted to be kissed.

you gazed at him with a slick grin, enchanted by the look of lust on his face. when he kept leaning in, chasing for your lips until he couldn’t feel yours he pulls away frustratingly, opening his eyes.

he pouts, “what’re you doing? kiss me!” he whines out, poking your side making you jolt on his lap.

“okay, okay, sorry. you look cute before you kiss me by the way.” you grinned widely.

jungkook dead stares at you, growing impatient by the second.

“sorry baby,” you muttered before pulling him in for a hard kiss.

[asexualannoyance]

“[...] Like other movements within political Islam, the movement [Hamas] reflected a complex local reaction to the harsh realities of occupation, and a response to the disorientated paths offered by secular and socialist Palestinian forces in the past. Those with a more engaged analysis of this situation were well prepared for the Hamas triumph in the 2006 elections, unlike the Israeli, American, and European governments. It is ironic that it was the pundits and orientalists, not to mention Israeli politicians and chiefs of intelligence, who were taken by surprise by the election results more than anyone else. What particularly dumbfounded the great experts on Islam in Israel was the democratic nature of the victory. In their collective reading, fanatical Muslims were meant to be neither democratic nor popular. These same experts displayed a similar misunderstanding of the past. Ever since the rise of political Islam in Iran and in the Arab world, the community of experts in Israel had behaved as if the impossible was unfolding in front of their eyes. [...]

In 2009, Avner Cohen, who served in the Gaza Strip around the time Hamas began to gain power in the late 1980s, and was responsible for religious affairs in the occupied territories, told the Wall Street Journal, “the Hamas, to my great regret, is Israel’s creation.” Cohen explains how Israel helped the charity al-Mujama al-Islamiya (the “Islamic Society”), founded by Sheikh Ahmed Yassin in 1979, to become a powerful political movement, out of which the Hamas movement emerged in 1987. Sheikh Yassin, a crippled, semi-blind Islamic cleric, founded Hamas and was its spiritual leader until his assassination in 2004. He was originally approached by Israel with an offer of help and the promise of a license to expand. The Israelis hoped that, through his charity and educational work, this charismatic leader would counterbalance the power of the secular Fatah in the Gaza Strip and beyond. [...]

In 1993, Hamas became the main opposition to the Oslo Accord. While there was still support for Oslo, it saw a drop in its popularity; however, as Israel began to renege on almost all the pledges it had made during the negotiations, support for Hamas once again received a boost. Particularly important was Israel’s settlement policy and its excessive use of force against the civilian population in the territories. [...]

It also captured the hearts and minds of many Muslims (who make up the majority in the occupied territories) due [to] the failure of secular modernity to find solutions to the daily hardships of life under occupation. [...]

The new Israeli methods of oppression introduced during the Second Intifada—particularly the building of the wall, the roadblocks, and the targeted assassinations—further diminished the support for the Palestinian Authority and increased the popularity and prestige of Hamas. It would be fair to conclude, then, that successive Israeli governments did all they could to leave the Palestinians with no option but to trust, and vote for, the one group prepared to resist an occupation described by the renowned American author Michael Chabon as “the most grievous injustice I have seen in my life.” [...]

The obvious failure of the Palestinian groups and individuals who had come to prominence on the promise of negotiations with Israel clearly made it seem as if there were very few alternatives. In this situation the apparent success of the Islamic militant groups in driving the Israelis out of the Gaza Strip offered some hope. However, there is more to it than this. Hamas is now deeply embedded in Palestinian society thanks to its genuine attempts to alleviate the suffering of ordinary people by providing schooling, medicine, and welfare. No less important, Hamas’s position on the 1948 refugees’ right of return, unlike the PA’s stance, was clear and unambiguous. Hamas openly endorsed this right, while the PA sent out ambiguous messages, including a speech by Abu Mazen in which he rescinded his own right to return to his hometown of Safad. [...]”

—Ten Myths About Israel by Ilan Pappé, Chapter 9: “The Gaza Mythologies”, the section titled “Hamas Is a Terrorist Organization”

[creature-wizard]

LOL, you shitheads again? You must really love getting your asses kicked if you're coming to me, of all people.

For anybody unaware, the Satanists behind the website mentioned in this ask are a bunch of openly antisemitic conspiracy theorists appropriating Eastern traditions, and they've been trying to advertise themselves and increase their SEO by sending asks like these. Each ask is tailored to appeal to whatever they think your beliefs might be, but they all follow a similar template that goes something like:

What do you think of [URL redacted]? They claim to follow [insert gods here], they [something about supporting abortion], and they're the largest [insert group here] group in the world."

The spirituality promoted on this website is rooted in deeply antisemitic conspiracy theories and pseudohistory. If I addressed every single claim they made, I'd be here all day, so I'm going to stick to a few examples:

They claim that Satanism isn't a reaction to Christianity, but is in fact older than Christianity. This is straight-up pseudohistorical bullshit.

They claim that Jews have perpetrated a grand conspiracy to conceal true spiritual knowledge from the masses. They outright cite The Protocols of the Learned Elders of Zion, a Czarist hoax created to justify violence against Russian Jews in the late 19th century. They claim that Christianity is a Jewish tool of world domination and mind control.

They claim that "Jewish ritual murder" is a thing. This is blood libel, an old conspiracy theory used to demonize Jews.

They claim that Jesus was a fictional creation made out of tropes "stolen" from various pagan gods. There is no actual evidence for this; it's another conspiracy theory. For a scholarly look at what most probably happened, I recommend How Jesus Became God: The Exaltation of a Jewish Preacher from Galilee by Bart D. Erhman. Or if you can't get your hands on the books, just look into Dr. Ehrman's videos/lectures on the topic on YouTube.

They push the extremely racist ancient aliens bullshit, claiming that the pagan gods were actually aliens.

They claim that the serpent actually represents human DNA, life force, and kundalini. This is a conspiracy theory that disregards the diversity of lore about serpents in various belief systems and traditions around the world, and culturally appropriates from Eastern traditions.

Their idea of what constitutes genuine Satanic practices is basically New Agers' bastardized versions of Eastern concepts and practices.

They claim that the "Tree of Life" is actually a stolen pagan symbol that maps the human soul. Again, an unsubstantiated conspiracy theory that disregards the actual significance of trees within the various traditions that involve them.

They claim that the Pentateuch was ripped off from the five suits of the tarot, and that tarot has ancient origins with alchemical significance. Tarot was actually invented in the 15th century for playing games. Mystical symbolism was applied by occultists in the 18th century.

The creators of the site apparently believe that the Simon Necronomicon is a genuine translation of older documents. It's not. The Necronomicon was a literary device created by HP Lovecraft; every text purporting to be a translation of the Necronomicon is a modern creation.

If you get an anon message like this in your inbox, do not post it. These people want you to share their URL to get more publicity and spread their antisemitic conspirituality. Don't give them what they want.

[razzdazzledoo]

How do you feel about people roleplaying as MX?

Alright everyone, sit down. I've been waiting for this moment.

Welcome to

RAZZDAZZLEDOO'S QUICK GUIDE TO WRITING MX!!

For those who wanna be in-line with the character while still having the freedom of not being canon.

So first things first, let's get the ground basis with MX.

MX does what he does for the reactions it brings, that kinda stuff is his entertainment. So he plans ahead, hoping to find the best snowball effect for the strongest look of terror on people's faces.

Though he doesn't plan THAT much, he gets a ground base and then improvises the rest of it so it's hard to plan ahead against him.

He's also not meant to be intimidating all the time either, his playmates will get bored if it's the same song and dance so he plays into other personalities to throw them off.

When their guard's down? He strikes while the iron's hot. And that makes them terrified even more.

Second, how he interacts with other people.

It ultimately depends on what the other person's like. Are they exactly like him? Do they have the potential to be? Or are they like Lucas where they clearly fear him?

Those kinda aspects will play into the chemistry MX can have with a person. He's best friends with Executable M and Mr. Virtual for a reason, they're just like him in the sense of 'tormenting for their own entertainment' along with whatever goals they have.

If they show fear, he'll play into it. He'll show them reasons to fear him, and then the next moment deceive them into believing there's some good in his heart. Only to then tear down those chances, and watch them crumble.

"What if I wanna ship my MX roleplay with someone?"

You have the freedom to do that, don't let me restrict you from having fun. I'll provide how he would, in-character, respond to romance. But I wanna get some rules down first.

Do not be sexual with him. That kinda shit makes me incredibly uncomfortable, not to mention I don't see him ever showing interest to the thought.

Do not ship him in problematic scenarios. This can include: People in the victim role, like MX took their soul and put them in a vessel; Characters who are directly stated to be minors; And characters that use Luigi's likeness. I outright forbid this and will not hesitate to block you if I see it.

Build up to it. MX obviously isn't going to know what the hell a "relationship" is, he's never entertained the idea and so it's going to take some time for him to learn. He's gonna have to figure out why he feels the way he does around that specific person, whether with their guidance or not.

He knows that humans can feel love, and how they respond to it, since he's been around since the universe's creation; but he personally doesn't know much on the subject.

When he realizes he's actually capable of love, he's not gonna know how to respond to it. He might even outright avoid the person he feels those emotions to since he has not an iota of knowledge with relationships.

If your interpretation of MX has an actual friendship with other muses, and he gets along greatly, he might go to them about it as a show of trust and they can help him figure it out.

Otherwise, he'd try and leave "gifts" for his special someone. Like a cat bringing you a dead bird, for comparison. Most of his gifts are eldritch abominations though, like a smaller version of one of his clouds in his world as an example.

On the other hand, if his special someone went to him first about pursuing a relationship and he does feel love towards them as well; He'd go along with it, essentially being a big giant teddy bear for them if he thinks it'd be funny enough.

If someone tries to pursue a relationship with him and he feels no attraction, he just kinda messes with them about it. Poking fun that they'd fall in love with a monster like him, who'd never love them back.

There's no canon MX ship, I just personally lean more towards Powerforest since it's a comfort ship of mine.

"What are some other tips?"

If your interpretation of MX can frown, make it have impact. That brute smiles all the time, regardless of the situation; So if he frowns, that's gonna have to mean something.

Canonically if MX frowns, he's locked in. He's not gonna waste time playing around, he wants you DEAD.

Don't be afraid to be silly sometimes.

It'd get awful boring real quick if MX was one-dimensional in a roleplay scenario, having something like that can give him way more depth and I encourage it.

You don't need to follow this guide exactly, but please still be respectful of the boundaries I expressed in here.

This is not meant to be a rulebook on how to write MX, you still have the freedom to write him how you feel most comfortable with writing him. This is just how I go about writing the character in my own spaces.

[niceonet]

TRAİLERDB - DEVASA+ (2)

As the film industry continues to evolve, sneak peeks into upcoming releases offer us a tantalizing glimpse of the stories, characters, and visual spectacles on the horizon. Whether you're a fan of thrilling blockbusters, heartwarming dramas, or spine-chilling horror flicks, there’s something for everyone to look forward to. 

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As movie lovers know, the excitement for a new release often begins with the unveiling of its trailer. The latest movie trailers give us a glimpse into upcoming films that promise to captivate audiences and spark conversations. With a wide array of genres, these trailers highlight the creativity and talent of filmmakers, showcasing their unique storytelling approaches.

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Stay tuned as we anticipate the release of these films. The latest movie trailers are just the beginning of what promises to be an exhilarating journey through the world of cinema.

[shydroid3000]

On the subject of Light Yagami, Misa Amane, and guilt (guilt as in culpability and guilt as in the internal experience of feeling guilty): [Rambled about this as part of a response to an ask game but decided I'd pop it into its own post too 'cause I ended up writing a lot on the topic lol]

The question was: was misa just as guilty as light? Ooh, guilt in relation to Misa and Light is interesting to think about. On the one hand, I do think that they're both culpable for their actions at the end of the day. I have maybe some more grace to extend Misa in terms of her having an understandable reason to go down that path, what with her parents being murdered (and almost being murdered herself). Like, that's a level of trauma that makes you go, 'yeah, I can understand why she was all-in on killing criminals with the death note, even if I don't agree.' Light, on the other hand, had this good, stable, pretty privileged home life, in addition to him being a top student, talented, handsome, etc. He's got less of an excuse, you know? The fact that Misa's drawn to Kira's ideals out of lived trauma, whereas Light is drawn to those ideals largely out of ego is sort of a meaningful distinction. (By ego I don't just mean the belief that he's exceptional, but I mean -- the way he is so desperately driven to protect his conception of himself as a Good Person. That's a tragic and heart-rending manifestation of ego, but it's still about protecting his ego). But I also think there's 'guilt' on the level of the actions and choices you make regardless of motivations, and I'd see them as more equal on that front. Misa was an enthusiastic DN user and participant in Kira's plans/ideology. She's motivated by different things than he is, but she makes her choices knowingly. I think it would be diminishing of her agency and complexity to say that she's less responsible for her actions than Light is, if that makes sense. (Also, there are things Misa is guilty of that Light isn't, and vice versa. E.g., Misa pushes Light's boundaries in a way that can be very uncomfortable; Light uses Misa/others without real regard for them).

Now, beyond all that... the question is obviously about their culpability for their use of the DN. But it also makes me think about each of their *experiences* of guilt internally, and that might be even more interesting to me. I think that their relationship to guilt is one of the things that makes them so divergent from one another. Because... running away from guilt is such a huge part of what propels Light to go all out with the Kira thing. So much of his psyche is shaped around that black pit of guilt where whispers of "I did a bad thing. If I did a bad thing I'm not a good person" come from. He diligently tries to cover over that and barricade it off. He crafts an ideology that makes his murders righteous, and commits to making a New World(tm) where the meaning of 'good/right' is reshaped around that. He makes himself a God so that his actions are beyond judgment, or at least he is, because his murders are divine - they're acts of creation, even of love and self-sacrifice. And then Misa... well, guilt doesn't seem to be as obvious a factor for her, whether as motivation or reaction. I mean, I could imagine a reading where there's some well of underlying guilt about the death of her parents and her survival -- I think that would make sense given the circumstances. But... we never actually see that kind of Bruce Wayne -esque psychology peeking through, so that feels more like headcanon territory than direct analysis. Obviously she has deep feelings about the murder of her parents, but she has a very different relationship to guilt than Light. She usually comes across as very free from guilt. She knows what she wants and what her priorities are, and she pursues those without shame. She's impressed by Kira so she becomes the second Kira; she decides she loves Light and wants to be with him regardless of whether he even likes her, so she pursues that undeterred by his response to her. It feels like Misa is always calmly pushing forward toward what she wants, whereas Light's sprint forward toward his New World is really a running-away-from. But at the same time... what kind of underlying emptiness would make someone so completely devotional in the way Misa is, wanting to devote themselves to someone who mostly loathes them, to the point of not even seeming to be hurt by that person's disdain for them as long as they can still have that person in their life? I think there's definitely beneath-the-surface stuff with Misa, but it comes across like guilt is a colour that just doesn't exist in her world. Whereas with Light, every shadow in his world is the colour of guilt. If goodness or righteousness are the rays of the sun, Light Yagami is the moon that reflects the sunlight while trying to create a reality in which those rays are his -- are him -- a reality in which he becomes the sun. And yet he's a moon, and the dark side of it that he disavows is guilt, is 'I did a bad thing', is 'what if I'm not a good boy?' (Wow, went overboard with the metaphors there but too lazy to edit lol).