#emil and peri

[twstrhythm]

Longwei Jiang Birthday Boy

Birthday Vignette for Longwei Jiang. Extra late, but still here. Birthday was March 22

Happy Birthday (Part 1)

NRC School Newspaper A Birthday Interview with Longwei Jiang

Yuu: Hello, Longwei! Happy Birthday!

Longwei: Thank you, your words warm my heart.

Yuu: How are you enjoying the party?

Longwei: It is not bad. It is much more lively than the parties I had back home, but… I would call those more like celebrations.

Yuu: Really? What are those like?

Longwei: They are quiet events. It is usually only family that attends. The most that we do is share food and talk, but it isn’t something I dislike. I think it is just a different way to celebrate birthdays. I know that some people would prefer birthdays to be lively celebrations, but everyone has their own preferences, right?

But I will admit that it is nice to have a party with friends like this. It is a different experience than what I am used to, but I am enjoying it. This is the first time I have been able to celebrate with friends and I am looking forward to more.

Yuu: That sounds great! Are there any plans you have for the future?

Longwei: That is an easy question to answer. I would love to be able to spend more time with the people I have grown to care for. They have all grown to have an impact on my life, and I would like to repay them for that. I am not sure how I would do that though…

Other than that, I would like to see more of the world. There is still so much that I don’t know about, so I would love to discover it.

Yuu: What do you mean by that?

Longwei: Well… I lived in the ocean for the majority of my life. I only recently was able to see what things were like here on the surface. It has gotten my interest, and I would love to explore it more. And hopefully I can do that with some of my friends.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Happy Birthday (Part 2)

Yuu: So… you mentioned your friends. How did you meet them?

Longwei: That is a long story… But I can explain it. Of course, I promise not to lie about anything I am about to say. Telling a lie will not be right, so I will be truthful with you. I was actually enrolled in Royal Sword Academy before all of this.

Yuu: Huh? Is that so?

Longwei: Yup. Haha… I was only there for a few hours actually. It was kind of my own fault, but kind of not at the same time. I sort of got into a fight with someone there and may have caused them to go blind in one eye. I never apologized for that, but he had started the fight.

And as for how I met my friends… Emil and Peri had been enrolled in Royal Sword Academy as well. I’m not really sure what they had done, but they also ended up getting themselves expelled that day too. We met outside the school gates and were all sent here to Night Raven College.

I guess you could say we ended up bonding over a shared experience. It is not so bad if you ask me. At least we have some common ground.

Yuu: Oh… I see.

Longwei: Aside from Emil and Peri, I have made some friends within my own dorm. I would say that Roche and I have grown pretty close. I think he is a dependable person I can rely on.

Yuu: Speaking of your dorm, how are you enjoying your time with them?

Longwei: Octavinelle seemed intimidating at first, but I have grown to see it as a second home. The people here may be scary at times, but they mean well. You just have to get to know them more to understand them.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Happy Birthday (Part 3)

Yuu: We are beginning to run out of time for this interview now. Do you have anything else you would like to say?

Longwei: Hmm… let me think about that for a little.

Yuu: Don’t worry, I won’t rush you.

Longwei: Funny you would say that when we are running out of time. But I digress… I should not make fun of you for contradicting yourself like that.

Yuu: That’s alright.

Longwei: I am surprised you aren’t taking that as an insult… Never mind. Let’s see… To me, it is important to tell the truth. I had mentioned that to you earlier, but I really mean it. Telling lies only gets you so far, and they don’t usually help the situation. The more you lie, the deeper a hole you dig for yourself.

This is something my parents taught me. Since I was young, they taught me to value the truth. People don’t like being told lies after all, and lies could hurt more than the truth. I know that sometimes things said can hurt a person’s feelings, but you can’t always spare the feelings of others. Sometimes they need to be told the truth so that they can learn.

I suppose… It could be seen as a lesson for some people.

Yuu: Thank you for your words, Longwei.

Longwei: I should thank you for coming out here to interview me.

Yuu: That’s nice of you to say! Anyways! Happy Birthday!

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Roche Laverne belongs to @twstwhisper

[whump-me]

Whumptober Day 15: Suppressed Suffering

This is a standalone story in my original Mind Games universe, a modern-day sci-fi/fantasy thriller setting about ordinary humans with superhuman abilities and the people who want to use or destroy them. Full description in my Whumptober masterpost, which is linked in my pinned post.

This story contains: male whumpee, defiant whumpee, interrogation, electric torture, burns, hand whump, beating

Words: 2900

---

“Show me what you can do,” came the cold, relentless voice again.

The cattle prod jammed into the squishy center of Emil’s belly. Electricity coursed through him. Sweat dripped down his neck to pool in the hollows of his collarbones. He gritted his teeth, breathing out hard through his nose.

It was just him and the interrogator and the hard concrete floor underneath him. Scratchy rope bound his wrists behind him and kept his ankles tied tightly together. The floor was cool and rough under his chin. It reminded him of kissing someone who hadn’t shaved in two days.

When the interrogator had started in with the cattle prod, he had forced himself back to his feet every time. It had been about pride for him. When he had tried to get up and found that his legs simply wouldn’t hold him anymore, he had felt a kind of shameful relief. At least if he stayed down, he wouldn’t experience the dizzy sensation of the floor rising to meet his face, or the sickening crack of the impact at the end.

The floor smelled like old blood and vomit. He wasn’t the first person to be tortured in this room.

Where was the owner of that blood now? Had they given in? Were they alive? Had they turned traitor and signed up to work for PERI?

He didn’t think he wanted the answer to any of those questions.

He had always figured the rumors that PERI tried to recruit the Enhanced who worked against them were just that: rumors. Torture was a pretty shitty recruitment tactic—how could anyone stomach signing up to work for anyone who had done this to them? Now, though, he began to understand. Some people would do anything to make the pain stop.

Not him. Never him. But it was getting harder to judge those who did.

His interrogator hadn’t gotten to the point of trying to recruit him, though. He’d been at this for hours, and he still hadn’t gotten past his first question.

“Show me what you can do.”

Emil pressed his lips together until they went numb. He gritted his teeth.

This time, the cattle prod landed between his shoulder blades. He exhaled slowly and swallowed his screams.

The interrogator leaned down to look him in the eye. The man’s face was a blur—all except his unnatural blue eyes, which shone out like cold lamps.

“We know you have a power of some kind,” he said. “You held your own against several Enhanced operatives, which means you’re almost certainly Enhanced yourself. We’d like to know just what we have, and how useful you might be for genetic research—or, perhaps, conversion.”

So the recruitment thing was true. Emil wondered how many zaps with the cattle prod it would take to make him sign up to work for the people who had delivered the shocks.

It was probably better not to tempt fate by asking the question. After all, the interrogator looked more than willing to experiment until he discovered the answer.

Emil pressed his lips together and stared up at him in silence.

After a moment, the interrogator straightened back u. He swung the cattle prod gently back and forth. “You’ll show us eventually. No matter how stoic you act, I know the pain affects you. You’ll scream soon enough. And not long after that, you’ll show me what you can do.”

At the last word, he jammed the prongs of the cattle prod into the inner joint of Emil’s elbow.

Under his skin, his nerves caught fire. His hand spasmed, clenching involuntarily into a fist.

He didn’t scream.

Another shock. Another. His body had to be half covered in burns from those damn prongs by now. Sweat poured down his body, stinging like acid when it landed on the burns. His nerves exploded with invisible flame, again and again and again.

He breathed in. Breathe out. When the pain was so bad he couldn’t draw in a breath, he clenched his jaw until he tasted blood, and waited for it to pass.

He didn’t scream.

“You’re a difficult case, aren’t you?” The interrogator’s voice sounded like it reached him through a long tunnel. “Ah, well. Maybe you just need a different incentive.”

The blurry shape above him stepped back and leaned against the wall. His hands moved. Emil tensed. But the interrogator was only fumbling in his pocket.

A flicker of flame. Emil squinted, tried to focus. A lighter. Who smoked these days? “Hope you get lung cancer,” he muttered. The words scraped his throat raw. He tasted blood.

“I don’t smoke.” The interrogator flicked the lighter again. And again.

He returned to Emil’s side. With the toe of his boot, he Emil over so he was lying flat on his back.

He knelt over him and flicked the lighter open again.

Emil tried to pull away, tried to curl onto his side, but the interrogator held him down and—

The flame came down in the center of his palm. The interrogator grabbed his hand and pressed it flat against the floor so his fingers couldn’t instinctively close.

The trapped scream tore at his throat. He clamped his lips shut and didn’t let it out. He held his breath. He didn’t trust himself not to scream otherwise.

He smelled his own burning flesh. It smelled like cooked meat. Horribly, his stomach growled, reminded of how long it had been since his last meal.

The flame flickered out. His nerves kept burning.

He didn’t look at his hand. He didn’t want to see.

The interrogator gazed into his eyes, his expression coldly curious. Emil wanted to spit in his face. But if he opened his mouth, he didn’t trust the scream not to leap out. He pressed his lips together tighter.

The interrogator’s brows drew together in a quizzical frown. “I understand not wanting to answer my question—although you will in time, of course. But why refuse to scream? You’re only making this harder on yourself than it needs to be.”

Emil didn’t answer, of course. To answer would have meant opening his mouth. But if he had, he would have said it was because the interrogator wanted him to scream. Because screaming would show that the pain was getting to him, that the pain was harder to endure now than it had been when the guards had first tossed him onto the cold concrete.

It would mean admitting that to the interrogator—but more than that, it would mean admitting it to himself.

It would let a crack open up in his defenses, no matter how small. And where one crack emerged, more would soon follow.

Once he screamed, it would be only a of time before he answered the interrogator’s question. That question, and all that came after.

The funny part was, the answer to the first question would be disappointing. He was just a garden-variety telepath, and not even a strong one. To read someone’s mind, he needed both physical touch and an emotional connection to the other person. He had held his own against those PERI operatives due to years of combat training and an inability to know when to give up. His ability had nothing to do with it.

He wouldn’t do any good to PERI as an operative, and he wouldn’t bring anything useful to their research. Maybe they’d try to recruit him anyway, or send him off to their labs to be cut into pieces and pickled in jars. He doubted it. Most likely, they’d shoot him in the head. At this point, he’d welcome it.

But just like letting himself scream would open the door to answering that first question, answering the question would then open the door to answering all the others that would follow. Questions like, Who were you working with? Questions like, Where are the others hiding? That was a line he would not allow himself to cross.

Besides, he just plain didn’t want to give the interrogator the satisfaction.

“Show me what you can do.” The lighter flickered to life again. The interrogator held it up in front of his face, so close he could smell the acrid flame.

Emil wanted so badly to spit in his face.

He kept his lips clamped shut.

The interrogator sighed. “The other hand, then.”

For a while after that, there was no room for thoughts of defiance. There was no room for any thoughts at all. There was only the pain, and the taste of blood in the back of his throat, and the struggle not to let his trapped screams escape.

Both hands. Then the soles of both feet. Then the interrogator traced long, slow lines up his legs and down his arms. His nerves screamed as they died. The room smelled like roasting meat.

Then a soft sigh. Blurry motion above him. The lighter disappeared into a pocket.

His nerves screamed. His flesh burned.

“Maybe you need to experience something more… permanent.” The voice sounded like it reached him from above a deep ocean, when he was a hundred feet down.

Maybe he was drowning. But he had always heard drowning was peaceful. There was no peace in this room. Not for him.

A flash of silver, gleaming brightly under the harsh overhead lights. A knife’s edge slicing the air at a leisurely pace, coming slowly closer.

Behind the blade, those twin blue lamps studied him.

Fresh pain in his burned hand as the interrogator held it flat again. A new pain, sharp and searing, at the base of his pinky finger. Hot blood welling up. Blood at the back of his throat, brought to the surface by the scream he wouldn’t set free.

“Show me what you can do.”

Prickly numbness in his lips as he pressed them tightly together. The taste of blood in his mouth. Then a sharper pain. An electric shock through his hand, through his arm, through his entire body. He jerked against the interrogator’s iron grip.

Then a hollow absence. A sharp intake where his finger should have been.

The interrogator frowned.

Because he hadn’t screamed.

He hadn’t screamed.

The other hand next. This time, he knew what to expect. He thought that would make it easier. It didn’t.

Another sickening absence. Another bright locus of pain.

Another trapped scream he refused to set free.

Then a pause. A glimpse of a bloodstained knife. A mutter from above about blood loss.

Gauze pressed into the stump where his finger had been. The pressure of bandages wrapped around his hands—first one, then the other.

The interrogator picked up the blade again.

“I don’t know how you’re keeping so quiet.” The interrogator’s curiosity was threaded through with concern now. That concern made Emil want to break out in a feral grin.

He kept his lips pressed shut.

“You know you can’t keep it up forever,” the interrogator said. “All you’re doing is causing yourself unnecessary pain. You didn’t have to lose those fingers, you know. When you reach the point where you can’t hold out, and you see that the conclusion was always inevitable, you’ll regret what you cost yourself.”

Emil hadn’t thought he would be able to hold out this long either. But he had. After that, who knew what was possible? Maybe he could keep this up forever.

At the very least, he could damn well try.

A moment of silence. Then another sigh. “Very well, then. You still have more fingers to lose.”

Again, knowing what was coming didn’t make it easier. Not the third time, or the fourth, or the fifth.

Again, he kept his screams trapped. They vibrated in the back of his throat, drawing blood, until he thought he might drown in it.

He was never that lucky. But the scream never made it through his teeth.

A long pause. No more new bright pains in his hands. No more blood gushing out until the gauze plugged it up. No more hollow absences where his fingers had been.

Maybe he had no more fingers left to lose. He gave an experimental wiggle and almost blacked out from the pain. Black spots danced above him, beckoning. He strained toward them, but they disappeared, leaving him marooned under the harsh white light.

Something had moved. One finger and one thumb on each hand. That was what he had left.

Despair darkened his vision. He shoved it away. He hadn’t screamed. He hadn’t screamed, and that was a triumph.

It was the only triumph he would get in this place.

“I don’t understand this stoic act.” The interrogator’s voice sounded like a foreign language. He didn’t know how he understood it. He couldn’t be sure his translation was correct. On one level, it was only noise, a rising and falling tide of static.

Emil didn’t answer. Answering would have meant opening his mouth. But if he had, he would have said it wasn’t about his fear of answering the interrogator’s future questions anymore. Now it was only about not giving him the satisfaction of his pain.

“You’re not helping yourself, you know.” Emil could still make out the words in the static. For how long, he didn’t know. “If we don’t find out what you can do, we can’t find a use for you. But that doesn’t mean we’ll let you go, if that’s what you thought. You’re too dangerous to release. We haven’t forgotten what you did to our operatives.”

Twin lamps shone down on him. They doubled into four. They swayed above him, dancing like fireflies.

“You’ll die here.” The voice in the static was cold and even. “In this room. Cold, alone, and in pain. Is that what you want?”

Emil didn’t answer. But if he had, he would have sent he would rather die than give his interrogator the satisfaction of a single scream.

“Show me what you can do.” A booted toe slamming hard into his rib cage. The sickening crack of bone. The pressure of the unreleased scream vibrated against his teeth.

“Show me what you can do.” A sharp kick to his abdomen. Another. Another. Lightning-bolt agony through his hands as he pushed himself onto his side to curl into a ball.

“Show me what you can do.” A kick to his kidneys. Hot, thick blood spilling into his mouth.

He swallowed it. Letting it out would mean opening his mouth, and if he screamed now, he would break. If he screamed now, he would tell the interrogator about his ability, and where to find the others, and anything else he wanted to know. Because if he screamed now, he would know that he had lost.

Sharp bursts of pain across his body as the kicks rained down. Hot, bright centers of pain like meteors. He could see the stars falling. They streaked in front of his eyes until he could see nothing else.

Nothing but four blue lamps shining inexorably down on him.

Then even they were gone.

As darkness swept over him, he kept his lips pressed tightly together.

Not even a whimper escaped him.

Then, sharp white light standing through his eyelids. Death? No, death meant the end of pain. Whatever this was, it was not nearly so merciful.

The sound of static, rising and falling. This time, he couldn’t make out the words.

A needle piercing flesh. Hands prodding at his burns, at the stumps of his fingers. More static—closer, louder, more insistent.

He pressed his lips together tightly. He had not lost. Even now.

He would not scream.

“You don’t have to be so stoic about it, you know.” Slowly, the static gave up its secrets, resolving itself into words. “You can scream if you need to. I know it must hurt.”

The voice was a distant radio transmission.

The voice was full of concern, badly hidden.

The voice was wrong.

It belonged to a woman.

Where was the interrogator?

He opened his eyes.

Gray curls. A dimpled chin. Warm brown eyes. Adalie. Beside her, Arjan. Shona. Jasmina and Julian. His team.

His team?

Beyond that, the concrete walls had transformed into blurry wooden planks. The walls of the abandoned warehouse where his team had holed up for the past six months.

Above him, the light flickered a familiar greeting.

He had kept saying they needed to replace that bulb.

He blinked up at them. He waited for those warm brown eyes to disappear. To be replaced by cold blue lamps.

“You’re safe,” said Adalie. “We got you out. Do you understand? Can you hear me?”

For the first time in hours—maybe days—Emil opened his mouth.

I understand, he wanted to say.

Or maybe, Thank you.

Or maybe, I won.

But when his lips parted, an uncontrollable sound burst out instead, high and wild and unstoppable. The scream, he thought at first. Or all his screams at once.

But he wasn’t screaming.

He was laughing.

Maybe none of this was real. Maybe he was dying right now. Maybe it was real, but his team wouldn’t be able to save him.

But he had won.

He had won.

He laughed, and laughed, and didn’t stop.

---

Tagged: @cakeinthevoid @gala1981

Ask to be added or removed from my Whumptober 2023 taglist.

[lunatenais]

I’m realizing as I’m writing I don’t know my own interests! Wahoo! Anyway I’ve had such a wonderful 2 years in TOA, and I’m so excited to be here for many more years to come!!

Tagging: You. [grabs you]

Name: Eleven/Emil

Pronouns: He/they

Birthday (no year): June 19th

Where are you from? What is your time zone? AST :) I’m in Atlantic Canada

Roleplay experience: I think it’s been like 10-11 years? My first RP was for like Sonic OCs but I mainly did DR OC :]

---

Got any pets? Yes! I have a cat named Jerrie! I also live with 3 cats who belong to my roommate.

Favorite time of year: Autumn

Some interests and things you like: Flowers/gardening, magical girls, classic literature, pink things tm, stuffed animals, idols

Some fun facts & trivia about you: I have no idea

What non-Fire Emblem games do you play? Dangan Ronpa, Granblue Fantasy, Love Live, Ensemble Stars, Genshin Impact, League of Legends, been on a visual novel kick recently also EDIT I FORGOT PERSONA AND HARVEST MOON

Favorite Pokemon type & Pokemon: Fairy type & my fav pokemon is Lilligant!

---

How did you get into Fire Emblem? I bought Awakening because a friend of mine (N) liked it so much, and then I didn’t play it for almost a whole year after that! But I decided to try it out while I was on a road trip and quickly became obsessed.

What Fire Emblem games have you played? (In order): Awakening, Sacred Stones, Fates, like 1/4th of Gaiden, SoV, Three Houses, Genealogy, like half of Shadow Dragon, Binding Blaze, Blazing Blade.

First Fire Emblem game: Awakening!

Favorite Fire Emblem game: Sacred Stones :)

Any Fire Emblem crushes? a Frederick, Niles, Leon, Seth, Linhardt, Henry, Ced, Donnel, Duessel, JOSHUA

If you’ve played the following games, who was your first S support? - Awakening: Frederick, Fates: Niles, Three Houses: Linhardt, Engage: ?

Favorite Fire Emblem class: Mage :)

If you were a Fire Emblem character, what would be your class? Probably Cleric or Pegasus Knight

If you were a Three Houses character, what would be your affiliation? Golden Deer

If you were an Engage character, which Emblem would you Engage with? EIRIKAAAA

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How did you find TOA? My good pal N was talking about it and I was interested in it! I often follow him to different rp groups like a dog.

Current TOA muses: Eirika, Lugh and (hopefully soon) Tharja!

Who was your first TOA muse? If you don’t have them anymore, could you see yourself picking them up again? Knoll! I have highly entertained the thought of bringing him back, though I worry about the interest in him a lot!

Have you had any other TOA muses? a Knoll, Julia, Patty, Olwen, Peri, Ingrid, Nanna, Lute, Leon, Hisame, Florina, Panette (am I forgetting someone??)

Do you think you have a type of character you gravitate towards? I love thieves, though it doesn’t show from my list since Patty stuck around so long— I also love quieter, mysterious characters a lot or characters with some sort of image issue tm especially in the vein of growing up too soon

What do you believe you enjoy writing the most? I love anything I can put some fucking angst on happy characters going through something tm is my fav ever.

Favorite TOA-related memory: Uh yeah that bitch explodes

Got any delusions that didn’t see the light of day in TOA that you’d like to share? Nótt, Clarine, Ced, Tethys, Virion, Nina, Seadall, Marni, Maribelle

[randomnameless]

Is Randolph just Caellach/Hans but in a game that doesn't realize how much of a power-hungry psycho he is and, as such, thinks it's a good idea to try and frame his death as a bad thing?

Randolph tries to pull the uwu punches at us, and even gives us Flèche, whose sole role is to cry over her brother and, in AG, be the catalyst for Dimitri's change.

(on that note, TS pulled a more successful Flèche than Fodlan!).

Caellach and Hans are just, well, axe bosses lol, who want to "become King" by pilling up achievements or in general, being the "strongest one around" - but they are always defeated and never uwu'd upon, because both of their games doesn't pull any punches depicting what their so called muhrit entails - Hans slaughters prisoners who surrendered, and Caellach helps bring back Satan, betraying his former "friend" and ruining his life (rekting his mom and bbq'ing his home).

OTOH, Fodlan wants us to feel sorry for Randolph by creating Flèche, but sweeping under the rug the things Randy does to earn "muhrit" and fame - he is only an enemy unit, right?

The game doesn't show us him hunting green villagers NPCs to kill them, or the equivalent of Green Ostian knights trying to protect the monastery (we only know green villagers NPCs were hunted because Emile tells us the general area around the monastery is already a battlefield!) because that might sour your Hresvelg Tea, but given how Randolph is associated to Supreme Leader, her conquest and her IdEaLs that you have rank up "achievements" to become something, if Hans was under her ranks, her point would be sort of moot.

(iirc, wasn't this one of the criticisms thrown at Xander? Him putting Hans in jail but keeping Peri as a vassal?)

[n33t-o]

hewwos I am Emille!! Aka YOU. or Peri! I will answer to any of my names

22 y/o (Aug 2)

He/she/it/they Tboy | Polyam + Queer, MLM // MLNB & t4t!

I am a plural therian!! https://dither-collective.carrd.co/

Music I like: 4lung, Goreshit, Moe Shop, Cavetown, Twenty One Pilots, Pierce The Veil, My Chemical Romance, SewerSlvt, Rori In Early 20s. Idk man! I'm just super into shitty breakcore & lofi/chill stuff and I have a huge history with scene/emo :3

Hobbies: Drawing, OC world building, reptile/bug care, fursuit making

I really like indie game studios and learning about animals! Smaller artists make the world go round!!!!!

I thrive on hazy warm nostalgia and the hope things will get better.

I love selfshipping!!!

If you remember me from my old instagram account, no you don't. I do not want to be remembered as who I was.

I don't care to hear OR see discourse on furry p*rn. I just don't care. I really don't.

I like a handful of "problematic" creators. Just enjoy music/art/fantasy, man, idfc. Just don't bring harmful practices into IRL. I do not care what consenting adults do.

[ashtray-girl]

Book ask!! 1, 3, 4, 17, 22!

How many books did you read this year? 63! i’d still like to read a couple more tho haha

What were your top 5 books of the year? - Fear and Trembling by Amélie Nothomb (autobiographical novel about the author’s surreal experience working for a Japanese company) - Border State by Emil Tode (Estonian lgbt novel released shortly after the collapse of the USSR and written under a pseudonym) - Wilful Disregard by Lena Andersson (i read this with very little expectations bc it's quite short and the plot couldn’t be more bare-boned, but my god, the way it’s written… & yeah, admittedly this one hit VERY close to home for a number of reasons, but i still think it’s a great book in its own right) - Strong Female Character by Fern Brady (memoir by a Scottish comedian living with autism. funny, heartbreaking and eye-opening, all at the same time) - Otra Vez Eros by Cristina Peri Rossi (very short but very intense poetry collection which i read in Spanish but i’m note sure it’s been translated)

Did you discover any new authors that you love this year? oh yeah, several! the main ones being W. H. Auden, Lena Andersson and Cristina Peri Rossi. i also got into Balkan/Slavic literature tho, and i’d like to read more of Miroslav Krleža and Mircea Cărtărescu's works!

Did any books surprise you with how good they were? Wilful Disregard by Lena Andersson legit rewired my brain. so much so in fact, that i ordered its sequel literally as soon as i'd finished it. i liked that one too (it’s called Acts of Infidelity), even tho it’s very similar to its prequel except longer, and it does get slightly repetitive towards the end, but the way this woman dissects relationships... god. Border State by Emil Tode was also excellent, definitely an underrated gem as far as I’m concerned! and Miroslav Krleža's The Edge of Reason was unexpectedly so funny, it legit made me laugh out loud several times!

What's the longest book you read? i’ve literally just finished The Brothers Karamazov, which is like… 1k pages? so… yeah, definitely that one lmao

[valeriefauxnom]

And the answer for this one is...

Well, all of them, kinda.

Let's go down the checklist, shall we?

Trains:

Of course, expressions like 'train of thought' or 'trains hard' I would disregard since those aren't referring to actual trains, but here we have a clear expression of the train as an object, furthermore with an understanding of the word 'caboose' as a part of a train. Interestingly, 'train of thought' predates the word train for the locomotive by a while since train also means stuff dragging other stuff behind it.

With all this being said, Notte is clearly using the notion of a locomotive in order to get her point across colorfully instead of any of the other umpteen meanings it has taken! And I doubt trains are about.

Radio:

This one's a bit more cut-and-dry than the train. Stay tuned as a phrase hails back to the Era of Radio/TV, as in 'stay tuned to this channel'! Ergo, Emile is using a phrase that unambiguously refers to the existence and operation of a radio or television. Neither of which I think exist in Dragalia, otherwise you know the siblings would have it and use it to yell at each other every so often and form sneaky deals, so on and so forth. Several plot points (heck, even characters, see Noelle) also depend around the slower travel time of information than more instant forms of communication, so that's another strike against radio's existence.

Guns:

Notte is using guns to mean muscle here, but since it ultimately ties to baseball (and a time where guns have existed for a long time) I will use this to first demonstrate that the word 'gun' exists in Dragalia instead of trying to claim that this is solid enough evidence to make my claim...

However, that's not the only evidence we have. Gala Ranzal says:

Here we see a direct connection for 'guns' being a weaponry/strength/tool.

If we're willing to accept slightly more meta things, though, my definitive argument for this one is in this description, however:

Most weapon descriptions do the standard dodging about around 'caster' and 'manacaster' as the characters do, which to me adds some level of credence that they tried to keep things 'in-universe-compliant' in the weapons. Thus, using 'gun' once is a technical affirmation that the word exists, however silly.

As a last note, 'sons of guns' is also used, so make of you will of the storied etymology of that one!

A bunch of 19th century angry English peasants who didn't like industrialization:

We get this fun little unintentional history from Kleimann insulting Euden:

'Luddite' has its meaning in just that, a bunch of 19th century angry peasants who were fearful of what would happen to their livelihood and the quality of items with the increasing automation of industrialization. They attacked and destroyed machinery to this end. While it has later morphed into a general term to describe those opposed to progress, science, new machinery, etc, it as a word is unable to be separated from this very specific group!

Pressure cookers:

Now this one is my sneakiest one yet. I'm sorry.

Because, the pressure cooker actually still exists in modern-day Dragalia. Emphasis on 'cooker', though, not cookers. That's right, there's a singular pressure cooker in the world, and it is a family heirloom.

So, technically, a pressure cooker is not only implied but outright exists in Dragalia! Only one, though...

A fancy hotel in New York:

'Putting on the ritz' refers to the Ritz-Carlton hotel, a fancy hotel in, well, New York. Their business eventually inspired this phrase when others dress fancy/expensively, like the Ritz hotel chain. While it is not the first Ritz-Carlton, it was the one to spawn the English phrase 'putting on the ritz', so Curran's usage of this phrase indicates the specific New York Ritz-Carlton hotel.

Alexander Pope's 1727 hit essay 'Peri Bathous, Or the Art of Sinking in Poetry':

Another case of a specific word choice indicating a very specific concept like 'Luddite' above did. 'Bathetic' is not, in fact, a typo here for 'pathetic'. Instead:

Very helpful. What's bathos?

How did the word 'bathos' enter the English language? Well, long, story short,

That being said, I'm surprised anyone on the translation writing team even knows this term- I sure didn't when I came across it! I suppose it goes to show that at least some of them were likely writers or otherwise well-schooled in literature!

[yamuraiiha]

Your turn to give hcs for funny cephalopods you have!

IT'S BEEN NEARLY 2 YEARS SINCE I EVEN THOUGHT OF MY SPLAT OCS but hey at least whatever I saw will be accurate bc they're mine!

Esther (Agent 8) never speaks inkling despite having a fairly good grasp on it. Xe will if xe has too, but otherwise xe justs lets the gang have fun trying to figure out what xe's trying to tell them. This also means xe speaks with xer hands a lot and are really physically emotive

Bee (Agent 3) lost their right ear in the sanitation incident, so when anyone tries talking to them when they're annoyed/fed up/etc, they just turn to the right so the person is talking to their deaf ear. It doesn't dampen it completely but it certainly helps

Hazel (agent 4) INSISTS on having "Group bonding nights" where the agents (+ the idols sometimes) will sit and watch movies together. When it's his turn to pick, he usually goes for the most awful horror movies he could possibly find. And I'm taking 45 minute foreign language home filmed YouTube horror movie type quality. The only reason he does it is because no matter how bad it is, Bee will be terrified every single time

[cannondisabledcharacters]

Accepted Characters 4/16/21

Acela Benkan Salvatore from The Monster Duchess and Contract Princess

Leslie Sperado from The Monster Duchess and Contract Princess

Peri and Pearl Serpentine from Monster High

Hexiciah Steam from Monster High

Manuel Devalos from Medium

Lemon from Penelope

Emile Petit from A Monster in Paris

Al Stephenson from The Best Years of Our Lives

Homer Parrish from The Best Years of Our Lives

Fred Derry from The Best Day of Our

Dr. Lisa Park from Stargate Universe

Miranda Jones from Star Trek

Emory Erickson from Star Trek

Kiki from Kiki's Delivery Service

Lionel Essrog from Motherless Brooklyn

Solomon from The Hand that Rocks the Cradle

Claire Bartel from The Hand that Rocks the Cradle

Jesse MrcKenna from Live Goes On

Mareth from the Underland Chronicles

Ransom from Romancing the Duke

Gin from Tokyo Godfathers

Alexander Walgrave from Father Brown

Harmona a from Wolf's Rain

Cheza from Wolf's Rain

Suzy from Down to Earth

Seoha's mother from 19th Life

Lina from Death of a Pop Star

Sophie Lim from Death of a Pop Star

Priscilla Rich/Cheetah from DC

Marci from Dota 2 Dragon's Blood

301 characters remain in the box

[twstrhythm]

What dorm would your OCs be if not your assigned ones?

Answering this below the cut.

Name - Dorm they are in > Dorm they could be in

Aaron - Savanaclaw > Scarabia Aster - Octavinelle > Heartslabyul Caius - Ignihyde > Diasomnia Elise - Pomefiore > Heartslabyul Emil - Scarabia > Savanaclaw Ester - Diasomnia > Pomefiore (they are now doomed) Haoyu - Diasomnia > Scarabia Hubert - Pomefiore > Heartsabyul Jiǎn-Yǔ - Heartslabyul > Pomefiore Jiao-Long - Scarabia > Pomefiore KūnMíng - Heartslabyul > Savanaclaw Li Feng - Ignihyde > Diasomnia Longwei - Octavinelle > Ignihyde Matthew - Heartslabyul > Scarabia Nālani - Octavinelle > Ignihyde Peri - Diasomnia > Heartslabyul Rayan - Scarabia > Heartslabyul Sébastien - Pomefiore > Octavinelle Shen - Pomefiore > Ignihyde Shi Yin - Savanaclaw > Scarabia Theodore - Heartslabyul > Diasomnia Varian - Ignihyde > Pomefiore Xavi - Ignihyde > Diasomnia Xiaoshi - Savanaclaw > Scarabia Xīnyí - Pomefiore > Ignihyde Xuě Lóng - Diasomnia > Octavinelle YúnLóng - Octavinelle > Heartslabyul Zǐxuān - Savanaclaw > Pomefiore

[alexandra15119]

Viața, ca şi filosofia, reprezintă un tot atât de vast orizont, cu frumuseţile sale atât de simple la o primă vedere, dar atât de abstracte. Aşa cum spunea şi Platon, „participăm la spectacolul stelelor, soarelui, bolţii cereşti”, iar acesta ne dă „impulsul cercetării universului”; filosofarea este ca o trezire din starea de dependenţă faţă de nevoile vieţii şi am fi uimiţi de ceea ce am putea cunoaşte şi totodată îndemnaţi spre drumul cunoaşterii, din ce în ce mai dornici spre a şti. Ce anume? Nici acum nu s-a găsit un răspuns concret, dar totul este să încercăm şi să înţelegem cu propria noastră conştiinţă tot ceea ce gravitează în jurul nostru, făcând abstracţie de egocentrismul negativ şi împărtăşind descoperirea succesivă celorlalţi, si cel mai important aspect al acesteia il reprezinta arta de a trai impreuna.

Arta de a trăi împreună înseamna a împărtăși aceleași valori, a respecta aceleași reguli care duc la o bună înțelegere între oameni, la armonie și la pacea interioară. In societatea actuală, a trăi împreună a devenit o problemă de actualitate pentru că oamenii au evoluat și s-au individualizat, izolandu-se de cei din jur și văzându-și doar interesul propriu, necunoscând modul în care aceștia ar trebui să trăiască, să convietuiască alături de ceilalți. Astfel, cum spune și celebrul filozof, Emil Cioran, cel mai mare defect al oamenilor este că aceștia nu știu să trăiască, așteaptă să trăiască deoarece nu au curajul să se bucure de fiecare clipă, nu au curajul fiecărei clipe, cu toții învățăm să trăim de abia după ce nu mai avem nimic de așteptat, iar cât trăim, nu putem învăța nimic, fiindcă  nu trăim în prezentul concret și viu, ci într-un viitor fad și îndepartat. La momentul actual, cel mai important lucru pentru toți oamenii ar fi să găsească bucurie în arta de a trăi împreună, să se bucure de cei pe care îi au alături de ei și să împărtășească toată această bucurie cu familia și prietenii apropiați ai acestora.

În sânul religiei islamice, se spune că viața constă în două zile: una pentru tine și una împotriva ta. Atunci când ziua este pentru tine, nu trebuie să fii mândru sau nesăbuit și atunci când este împotriva ta, fii răbdător, pentru că ambele reprezintă teste pentru tine (Imam Ali, 45). De aceea, arta de a trăi împreună este reprezentată de modul în care ne comportăm cu oamenii și cum alegem să reacționăm în diferite situații… este arta de a putea înțelege persoana de lângă tine, de a nu ”îi scoate peri albi”, de a nu o judeca, de a o sfătui într-un mod corect pentru a avea un trai cât mai fericit. Unul dintre cele mai importante  elemente pentru a avea un trai fericit alături de ceilalți, din punctul meu personal de vedere, este de a ne ruga pentru ei. Să ne rugăm pentru fiecare persoană care ne trece prin minte pentru a ne putea onora “musafirii” inimii noastre. Astfel, totul va fi posibil dacă vom avea oamenii potriviți alături pentru a ne susține din toate punctele de vedere.

Dragostea pe care o purtăm față de semenii noștri, față de familie și față de prieteni face parte din această artă de a trăi împreuna, este una dintre cele mai delicate ramuri ale acestei arte, iar, atunci când iubim, întotdeauna ne străduim să devenim mai buni… Când ne străduim să devenim mai buni, atunci, totul în jurul nostru devine mai bun, îi va face pe oameni să se simtă egali, deoarece nu cunoaște nicio silnicie, este o preferință sinceră.  Este cea mai puternică forță a omenirii și, totuși, cea mai modestă pe care am putea să ne o închipuim. Aceasta este de mai multe feluri, care se manifestă diferit, dar toate contribuie la crearea artei de a trăi împreună.

Trăim într-o lume ciudată. Putem să trimitem rachete în jurul lumii cu o precizie uimitoare, însă nu suntem în stare să traversăm strada şi să ne împrietenim cu un nou vecin. Ne petrecem mai mult timp în faţa televizorului în loc să creăm legături cu copiii noştri. Susţinem că vrem să schimbăm lumea, însă nu suntem dispuşi să ne schimbăm pe noi înşine. Apoi, când soarele apune în viaţa noastră şi ne permitem câteva clipe de meditaţie, începem să întrezărim toate bucuriile pe care le-am fi putut trăi, toată bunătatea pe care am fi putut-o revărsa asupra semenilor noştri şi înţelegem că am fi putut fi oameni cu totul diferiţi, însă atunci e prea târziu. Cei mai mulţi dintre noi ne trezim la viaţă abia când vine vremea să trecem la cele sfinte, iar atunci, vom realiza că am pierdut cele mai frumoase clipe din viața noastră… pentru că nu am reușit să dobândim arta de a trăi.

La un moment dat, vom fi la un loc cu verdeață, cu odihnă, de unde va fugi toată întristarea și suspinarea, și vom sta în fața Împăratului Cerurilor și ne vom ruga în genunchi, cu ochii în lacrimi, să ne trimită înapoi pentru a putea învăța oamenii să nu facă aceleași greșeli pe care noi le-am făcut, pentru a fi cât mai aproape de El. Și vom zice: “Te rog, trimite-mă înapoi! O să mă rog de data aceasta, voi renunța la obiceiurile rele, voi renunța la tot ceea ce înseamnă online, nu voi mai avea o inima atât de haină. Voi ajuta oamenii și voi trăi cu ei în pace și în armonie! Te rog, spune-le îngerilor să mă coboare înapoi pentru o secundă!”… Dar ce vom face atunci când vom auzi un răspuns negativ, știind cu durere că nu mai este cale de întoarcere? Ce vom face atunci cand vom auzi un răspuns negativ din partea Creatorului? Vom avea marea dezamăgire că nu am știut să ne bucurăm de ceea ce a fost mai important și mai frumos în viață și vom realiza că arta de a trăi împreună necesită doar puțin atașament și dragoste față de cei pe care îi avem alături de noi…

Cu toate acestea, care dintre favorile Dumnezeului tău ai putea să le refuzi (Al-Quran, 55:38)? De aceea, arta de a trăi împreună este una dintre cele mai importante valori pe care le poate avea vreodată omenia.

Și, totuși, niciodată nu vom ști cu adevărat cât de importanța este arta de a trăi împreună până în momentul în care nu vom rămâne singuri și neajutorați… Abia atunci când va fi mult prea târziu ca să o putem crea alături de oamenii pe care îi aveam alături cu ceva timp în urmă. Deoarece, de multe ori am putea ține întregul Univers în mână, doar jucându-ne cu o bucată de hârtie, făcând  și pe alții fericiți. Și iată cum de multe ori, nici  nu știm cu ce ne jucăm…

[jonino]

The country has four Nobel prize laureates: George Emil Palade (medicine), Elie Wiesel (peace), Herta Müller (literature) and Stefan Hell (chemistry). ...................... Romania has seven Unesco World Heritage Sites, including the eight churches of northern Moldavia, covered in wonderful frescos (the Voroneț Monastery has been dubbed Romania’s Sistine Chapel), and the wooden churches of Maramureş, of which there is also eight, including Sapanta Peri, which claims to be the tallest wooden church in the world ............ A five-ton flag that measured 349 metres by 227 metres, and used 44 miles of thread, was unfurled in Romania in 2013. ........... Francesco Illy, the founder of the Italian coffee roasting company, was actually born in Timișoara, Romania. He later moved to Vienna, and then the Italian city of Trieste. #romania #beautiful #coutry #popular #costume #romanian #great #people #nobel #prize #emilpalade #eliewiesel#hertamullet#unesco#heritage https://www.instagram.com/p/CLZ40ALha1b/?igshid=1q6pe7yfijv8v

[olumsuzsozler]

Darwin, yaratılış hikayelerinin bir peri masalı olduğunu söyledi. Freud, kendimiz üzerinde gücümüz olduğunu söyledi. Spinoza mucize olmadığını, meleklerin olmadığını, dışımızdaki hiçbir şeye dua etmeye gerek olmadığını söyledi: Tanrı bizdik ve doğa. Emil Durkheim, insanların kendilerine bir güvenlik hissi vermek için dinin hayalini kurduğunu söyledi.

Ayaan Hirsi Ali 

╚► Sözler Gif: 

Ayaan Hirsi Ali Sözleri:

Niçin kendimizi sorgulamayı başaramıyoruz?  Ayaan Hirsi Ali

Benzer düşünen insanlarla kimse tartışamaz.  Ayaan Hirsi Ali

İfade özgürlüğünün olmadığı yerde vicdan da yoktur.   Ayaan Hirsi Ali  

Bir kadın olarak hayatta kendi paranı kazanman daha iyi.   Ayaan Hirsi Ali  

Neyden korkup neyden korkmayacağınızı öğrenmelisiniz.  Ayaan Hirsi Ali  

Tüm insanlar eşittir, ancak tüm kültürler ve dinler değildir.  Ayaan Hirsi Ali

Kendimi bildim bileli sorumluluk duygusu içime işlenmişti.  Ayaan Hirsi Ali  

Zihinsel bir kafesin çubuklarını çözmek uzun zaman alıyor.  Ayaan Hirsi Ali  

Sessizliğin adaletsizliğin suç ortağı olduğu zamanlar vardır.   Ayaan Hirsi Ali

Kendime ait bir hayatı olan bir kişi, bir birey olmak istedim.   Ayaan Hirsi Ali  

Gerçeklik kolay değil, ancak tüm bu inanış işleri kolaylaştırmıyor.  Ayaan Hirsi Ali

Bir babanın kızına yapabileceği en büyük kötülük ona küfretmesiydi.  Ayaan Hirsi Ali  

Beni boyun eğmekten kurtaranların romanlar olduğunu düşünüyorum.  Ayaan Hirsi Ali  

Arasında büyük bir fark vardır hoşgörülü olma ve hoşgörüsüzlüğü tolere.   Ayaan Hirsi Ali

Bizim ihtiyacımız olan şeyler felsefe okulları ve kadınlarımızın kurtuluşudur.   Ayaan Hirsi Ali

Oğullar, annelerinin dayak yemesini izleyerek büyütüldü, şiddet kullanacak.  Ayaan Hirsi Ali  

Bir mağdur olarak değil, savlarımın geçerliliğine göre yargılanmak istiyorum.   Ayaan Hirsi Ali

İslam'ın liberal demokrasiyle bağdaşmadığını söylemek ' İslamofobik ' değildir.  Ayaan Hirsi Ali

Beni bilişsel uyumsuzluğa kaptıran tek pozisyon ateizmdir. Bu bir inanç değildir.   Ayaan Hirsi Ali

İslam'da Kuran'ın katı yorumu kadınlar için dayanılmaz bir sefalete neden oluyor.  Ayaan Hirsi Ali  

Tüm gizemi, güzelliği ve acısıyla bu dünyadaki hayat çok daha yoğun yaşanacaktır.  Ayaan Hirsi Ali      

Hem Cennet'in siren şarkısını hem de Cehennem korkusunun yerini alan ölüm kesindir.   Ayaan Hirsi Ali

Şarap içmek ve pantolon giymek, fikirlerin tarihini okumakla kıyaslandığında hiçbir şeydi. Ayaan Hirsi Ali

Baskı insanları sadece ikiyüzlülüğe ve yalan söylemeye, ahlaki bozulmaya yönlendiriyordu. Ayaan Hirsi Ali

Din, mağlup edilmesi gerekir. ve “Biz İslam'la savaş halindeyiz. Ve savaşlarda orta yol yoktur. Ayaan Hirsi Ali

Bir bakirenin sessizliği, evlilik teklifine verilecek doğru cevaptır; onurlu bir rıza anlamına gelir. Ayaan Hirsi Ali

Yeni bir hayat doğuran genç kadınlara ölüm gelir, yeni doğanı yabancıların eline öksüz bırakır. Ayaan Hirsi Ali  

İslam barış dini değildir. Bu, elinden gelen her şekilde tahakküm arayan bir siyasi fetih teorisidir. Ayaan Hirsi Ali

Suskunluğun, adaletsizliğin suç ortağı olmaya başladığı yerde artık bir şeylerin söylenmesi gerek. Ayaan Hirsi Ali  

Doğduğum ülke olan Somali'de olduğu gibi anarşi ve iç savaş içinde yaşayanlar için ölüm her yerde. Ayaan Hirsi Ali  

Ben sadece genç bir kızdım ve bir şekilde kendim olmak istiyordum; bu yüzden bilinmeyene kaçtım.  Ayaan Hirsi Ali  

Kadınları İslam hukukundan daha fazla insanlıktan çıkaran ve aşağılayan bir hukuk sistemi düşünemiyorum. Ayaan Hirsi Ali

Özgürlük sadece beyazlar için mi? Atalarımın geleneklerine bağlı kalmak ve kızlarımı sakat bırakmak öz sevgi mi? Ayaan Hirsi Ali  

Özgür ifade, özgürlüğün temelidir ve özgür bir toplumdur. Ve evet, küfür etme ve hakaret etme hakkını da içerir.  Ayaan Hirsi Ali

Kadınlar İslam adına sosyal ve ekonomik haklarından mahrum bırakılıyor ve cahil kadınlar cahil çocuklar yetiştiriyor.   Ayaan Hirsi Ali  

Hepimiz cehennemi biliyorduk. Kuran kursunda bize en iyi öğretilen şey oydu ve hatalarimiz bizi oraya gönderebilirdi. Ayaan Hirsi Ali    

Batı'daki insanlar, azınlıkların dinlerini veya kültürlerini ırkçı olarak adlandırılma korkusuyla fazlasıyla eleştirmemeyi öğrendi. Ayaan Hirsi Ali  

Zamanımızın en acil sorusu şudur: Avrupa toplumu, Müslüman göçmenlerin radikal bir istilası tarafından ele geçirilecek mi?  Ayaan Hirsi Ali  

İslam'da birey olmak gerekli bir gelişme değildir; pek çok insan, özellikle kadınlar, hiçbir zaman net bir bireysel irade geliştirmez. Ayaan Hirsi Ali

İslam'ın en ufak bir şiddet değil, barış ve hoşgörü dini olduğu hakkında. Bunlar peri masallarıydı, bildiğim gerçek dünyayla hiçbir ilgisi yoktu.   Ayaan Hirsi Ali

Din adamlarının kuralı totaliterdir. İnsanların seçim yapamayacağı anlamına gelir. İnsanlık çeşitlidir ve onu bastırmak yerine bunu kutlamalıyız.  Ayaan Hirsi Ali  

Tökezleriz ve kalkarız, üzgün, kendinden emin, güvensiziz, yalnızlık, neşe ve sevgi hissederiz. Daha fazlası yok; ama daha fazlasını istemiyorum.  Ayaan Hirsi Ali

Çocukları küçük hayvanlara, bilgi almaya ve tartışmaya değmeden önce yetişkinliğe kadar çekilip dövülmesi gereken yaratıklar olarak gördüler.    Ayaan Hirsi Ali  

İslam kelimesinin gerçek anlamı budur: teslimiyet. Amaç, içeride sessizleşmektir, böylece zihninizin içinde bile gözlerinizi asla kaldırmazsınız. Ama. Ayaan Hirsi Ali  

Bugün aşırı sol ile İslamcılar arasında korkunç bir ittifak var ve modern medya aracını benim gibi insanları susturmak için bizi karalayarak kullanıyorlar. Ayaan Hirsi Ali

İnsanlar beni ırksal aşağılık hissini içselleştirmekle suçluyor, böylece kendi kültürüme kendimden nefret ederek saldırıyorum çünkü beyaz olmak istiyorum. Ayaan Hirsi Ali  

Bir okuyucu olarak, başkasının ayakkabılarını giyebilir ve maceralarını yaşayabilir, bireyselliğini ödünç alabilir ve evde sahip olmadığım seçimler yapabilirim.   Ayaan Hirsi Ali

Sonuç olarak, çoğu insan İslam'ın barışla ilgili olduğunu düşünüyor. Dürüst ve nazik bu insanlardan İslam'ın barışçıl ve hoşgörülü olduğu yanılgısı ortaya çıktı. Ayaan Hirsi Ali  

Dünyanın her yerindeki erkekler kadınlarını dövüyor, sürekli bilgilendiriliyorum. Gerçekte, bu Batılılar İslam'ı yanlış anlayanlardır. Kuran bu cezaları emrediyor.  Ayaan Hirsi Ali

Aşağılanmayı ve güçsüz olmayı kabul etmek mi? Vatandaşlarımın anlamsız tartışmalarda kadınları istismar edip birbirlerini katletmelerini pasif bir şekilde izlemek mi? Ayaan Hirsi Ali  

İslam, inananların hayatlarının her yönünü etkiler. Kadınlar İslam adına sosyal ve ekonomik haklarından mahrum bırakılıyor ve cahil kadınlar cahil çocuklar yetiştiriyor. Ayaan Hirsi Ali  

İnsanlar İslam'ın değerlerinin şefkat, hoşgörü ve özgürlük olduğunu söylediğinde, gerçeğe, gerçek kültürlere ve hükümetlere bakarım ve bunun öyle olmadığını görüyorum.  Ayaan Hirsi Ali  

Karşı karşıya olduğumuz zorlukları öfkeyle değil, biz Amerikalıların bir zamanlar ünlü olduğumuz türden eleştirel düşünceyle, çözüm bulma yolunda ilk adım olarak özeleştiriyi alır. Ayaan Hirsi Ali

Kocanızın sizi terk etmesini veya başka bir eş almasını engelleyemezdiniz, ancak maddi destek için ona yalvarmak zorunda kalmazsanız, onurunuzun bir kısmına sahip olabilirsiniz. Ayaan Hirsi Ali  

Bana öğretilen her İslami değer, kendimi en sona koymamı öğretti. Yeryüzünde yaşam bir imtihandır ve bu hayatta kendinizi sonlandırmayı başarırsanız, Allah'a hizmet etmiş olursunuz. Ayaan Hirsi Ali  

İslam zihinsel bir kafes gibiydi. İlk başta, kapıyı açtığınızda, kafesteki kuş içeride kalır: korkar. Hapishanesini içselleştirdi. Birisi kafesinin kapısını açtıktan sonra bile kuşun kaçması zaman alır. Ayaan Hirsi Ali

Benim büyüdüğüm yerde ölüm en sık gelen ziyaretçinizdir. Bir virüs, bakteri ya da parazit ; kuraklık ya da kıtlık ; askerler veya katliamlar ölümü herhangi birisine herhangi bir zamanda getirebilir. Ayaan Hirsi Ali

Allah'ın her şeyi önceden belirlediğine ve yeryüzündeki hayatın ahiret için bir bekleme odası olduğuna inanıyorsanız,bu inancın, çoğu zaman yoksulluğu pekiştiren kadercilikle bir bağlantısı yok mu?   Ayaan Hirsi Ali  

İnsan ilişkilerinin farklı olabileceğini ilk kez gördüğüm yeni bir kültüre geldiğimde, bunu yabancı bir kült olarak görmek, hangi Müslümanların uygulamasının yasak olduğunu görmek öz sevgi olur muydu? Ayaan Hirsi Ali  

Düşünürler, çenenin şehvetli kıvrımı, güzel bir burun veya uzun, ince parmaklar ve bazı kadınların ellerini cazibelerine dikkat çekecek şekilde hareket ettirme eğilimleri üzerine sayfalar ve sayfalar harcadılar. Ayaan Hirsi Ali  

İslam'ın barışçıl hoşgörüsünü temenni ederek düşünmek bu gerçeği yorumlayamaz: tıpkı Peygamber Muhammed'in yüzyıllar önce kararlaştırdığı gibi, eller hala kesilmiş, kadınlar hala taşlanmış ve köleleştirilmiş durumda.  Ayaan Hirsi Ali  

Müslümanlar kendimiz için düşünme ve istediğimiz gibi hareket etme özgürlüğünü bastırdık. Milyarlarca insanın ahlaki bakış açısını yedinci yüzyılda Arap çölünün zihnine dondurduk. Biz sadece Allah'ın kulu değildik, köleydik. Ayaan Hirsi Ali

Hamile kalan evlenmemiş Somalili kızların çoğu intihar etti. Mogadişu'da oturma odasında, oradayken üstüne bir kutu benzin döküp kendini diri diri yakan bir kız tanıyordum. Tabii bunu yapmasaydı babası ve erkek kardeşleri muhtemelen onu yine de öldürecekti.  Ayaan Hirsi Ali

Darwin, yaratılış hikayelerinin bir peri masalı olduğunu söyledi. Freud, kendimiz üzerinde gücümüz olduğunu söyledi. Spinoza mucize olmadığını, meleklerin olmadığını, dışımızdaki hiçbir şeye dua etmeye gerek olmadığını söyledi: Tanrı bizdik ve doğa. Emil Durkheim, insanların kendilerine bir güvenlik hissi vermek için dinin hayalini kurduğunu söyledi. Ayaan Hirsi Ali 

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[artasnoidea]

POPULATION

Abounaddara Akinbode Akinbiyi Nevin Aladağ Danai Anesiadou Andreas Angelidakis Aristide Antonas Rasheed Araeen Ariuntugs Tserenpil Michel Auder Alexandra Bachzetsis Nairy Baghramian Sammy Baloji Arben Basha Rebecca Belmore Sokol Beqiri Roger Bernat Bili Bidjocka Ross Birrell Llambi Blido Nomin Bold Pavel Brăila Geta Brătescu Miriam Cahn María Magdalena Campos-Pons and Neil Leonard Vija Celmins Banu Cennetoğlu Panos Charalambous Nikhil Chopra Ciudad Abierta Marie Cool Fabio Balducci Anna Daučíková Moyra Davey Yael Davids Agnes Denes Manthia Diawara Beau Dick (1955–2017) Maria Eichhorn Hans Eijkelboom Bonita Ely Theo Eshetu Aboubakar Fofana Peter Friedl Guillermo Galindo Regina José Galindo Israel Galván, Niño de Elche, and Pedro G. Romero Daniel García Andújar Pélagie Gbaguidi Apostolos Georgiou Yervant Gianikian and Angela Ricci Lucchi Gauri Gill Marina Gioti Beatriz González Douglas Gordon Hans Haacke Constantinos Hadzinikolaou Irena Haiduk Ganesh Haloi Anna Halprin Dale Harding David Harding Maria Hassabi Edi Hila Susan Hiller Hiwa K Olaf Holzapfel Gordon Hookey iQhiya Sanja Iveković Amar Kanwar Romuald Karmakar Andreas Ragnar Kassapis Kettly Noël Bouchra Khalili Khvay Samnang Daniel Knorr Katalin Ladik Lala Rukh (1948–2017) David Lamelas Rick Lowe Alvin Lucier Ibrahim Mahama Narimane Mari Mata Aho Collective Mattin Jonas Mekas Angela Melitopoulos Phia Ménard Lala Meredith-Vula Gernot Minke Marta Minujín Naeem Mohaiemen Hasan Nallbani Joar Nango Rosalind Nashashibi and Nashashibi/Skaer Negros Tou Moria Otobong Nkanga Emeka Ogboh Olu Oguibe Rainer Oldendorf Pauline Oliveros (1932–2016) Joaquín Orellana Mejía Christos Papoulias Véréna Paravel and Lucien Castaing-Taylor Benjamin Patterson (1934–2016) Dan Peterman Angelo Plessas Nathan Pohio Pope.L Postcommodity Prinz Gholam R. H. Quaytman Gerhard Richter Abel Rodríguez Tracey Rose Roee Rosen Arin Rungjang Ben Russell Georgia Sagri Máret Ánne Sara Ashley Hans Scheirl Marilou Schultz David Schutter Algirdas Šeškus Nilima Sheikh Ahlam Shibli Zef Shoshi Mounira Al Solh Annie Sprinkle and Beth Stephens Eva Stefani K. G. Subramanyan (1924–2016) Vivian Suter El Hadji Sy Sámi Artist Group (Keviselie/Hans Ragnar Mathisen, Britta Marakatt-Labba, Synnøve Persen) Terre Thaemlitz Piotr Uklański Jakob Ullmann Antonio Vega Macotela Cecilia Vicuña Annie Vigier & Franck Apertet (les gens d’Uterpan) Wang Bing Lois Weinberger Stanley Whitney Elisabeth Wild Ruth Wolf-Rehfeldt Ulrich Wüst Zafos Xagoraris Sergio Zevallos Mary Zygouri Artur Żmijewski

Zainul Abedin (1914–1976) Stephen Antonakos (1926–2013) Arseny Avraamov (1886–1944) Ernst Barlach (1870–1938) Étienne Baudet (ca. 1638–1711) Samuel Beckett (1906–1989) Franz Boas (1858–1942) Arnold Bode (1900–1977) Lorenza Böttner (1959–1994) Marcel Broodthaers (1924–1976) Lucius Burckhardt (1925–2003) Abdurrahim Buza (1905–1986) Vlassis Caniaris (1928–2011) Sotir Capo (1934–2012) Cornelius Cardew (1936–1981) Ulises Carrión (1941–1989) Agim Çavdarbasha (1944–1999) Chittaprosad (1915–1978) Jani Christou (1926–1970) Chryssa (1933–2013) André du Colombier (1952–2003) Gustave Courbet (1819–1877) Christopher D’Arcangelo (1955–1979) Bia Davou (1932–1996) Maya Deren (1917–1961) Ioannis Despotopoulos (1903–1992) Thomas Dick (1877–1927) Carl Friedrich Echtermeier (1845–1910) Maria Ender (1897–1942) Forough Farrokhzad (1935–1967) Conrad Felixmüller (1897–1977) Pavel Filonov (1883–1941) Niccolò di Pietro Gerini (1340–1414) Tomislav Gotovac (1937–2010) Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm (1785–1863, 1786–1859) Ludwig Emil Grimm (1790–1863) Giovanni di ser Giovanni Guidi (1406–1486) Cornelia Gurlitt (1890–1919) Louis Gurlitt (1812–1897) Nikos Hadjikyriakos-Ghika (1906–1994) Oskar Hansen (1922–2005) Sedje Hémon (1923–2011) Theodor Heuss (1884–1963) Karl Hofer (1878–1955) Ralph Hotere (1931–2013) Albert Jaern (1893–1949) Iver Jåks (1932–2007) Sunil Janah (1918–2012) Alexander Kalderach (1880–1965) Tshibumba Kanda Matulu (1947–1981 disappeared) Leo von Klenze (1784–1864) Kel Kodheli (1918–2006) Louis Kolitz (1845–1914) Spiro Kristo (1936–2011) KSYME-CMRC (founded 1979) Anna “Asja” Lācis (1891–1979) Maria Lai (1919–2013) Yves Laloy (1920–1999) Valery Pavlovich Lamakh (1925–1978) George Lappas (1950–2016) Karl Leyhausen (1899–1931) Max Liebermann (1847–1935) George Maciunas (1931–1978) Ernest Mancoba (1904–2002) Oscar Masotta (1930–1979) Mikhail Matyushin (1861–1934) Pandi Mele (1939–2015) Tina Modotti (1896–1942) Benode Behari Mukherjee (1904–1980) Krzysztof Niemczyk (1938–1994) Ivan Peries (1921–1988) David Perlov (1930–2003) André Pierre (1915–2005) Dimitris Pikionis (1887–1968) Dmitri Prigov (1940–2007) Hasan Reçi (1914–1980) W. Richter Anne Charlotte Robertson (1949–2012) Erna Rosenstein (1913–2004) August Wilhelm and Friedrich Schlegel (1767–1845, 1772–1829) Bruno Schulz (1892–1942) Scratch Orchestra (1969–1974) Tom Seidmann-Freud (1892–1930) Allan Sekula (1951–2013) Baldugiin Sharav (1869–1939) Amrita Sher-Gil (1913–1941) Vadim Sidur (1924–1986) August Spies (1855–1887) Foto Stamo (1916–1989) Gani Strazimiri (1915–1993) Władysław Strzemiński (1893–1952) Alina Szapocznikow (1926–1973) Yannis Tsarouchis (1910–1989) Antonio Vidal (1928–2013) Albert Weisgerber (1878–1915) Lionel Wendt (1900–1944) Johann Joachim Winckelmann (1717–1768) Fritz Winter (1905–1976) Basil Wright (1907–1987) Andrzej Wróblewski (1927–1957) Ivan Wyschnegradsky (1893–1979) Iannis Xenakis (1922–2001) Androniqi Zengo Antoniu (1913–2000) Pierre Zucca (1943–1995)

Documenta14, 2017

[batboyblog]

My very gay reading list

So I’m a book hoarder, and I have MANY unread books (gay!) waiting for me to get around to them so here they are, feel free to tell me if you’ve read something on it, and if you liked it 

Flesh and Bone by William Alton

Spellbound by Marcus Atley

If We Shadows by D.E. Atwood

Guyliner by J. Leigh Bailey

Queeroes by Steven Bereznai

Love in the Time of Global Warming by Francesca Lia Block

I Was a Teenage Fairy by Francesca Lia Block

Children of the Knight by Michael J. Bowler

Every Nine Seconds by Joseph Brockton

Debbie Harry Sings in French by Meagan Brothers

Weird Girl and What's His Name by Meagan Brothers

The Manny Files by Christian Burch

Cinnamon Toast and the End of the World by Janet E. Cameron

The Lavender Menace: Tales of Queer Villainy! by Tom Cardamone

Dragon Slayer by Isabella Carter

Repeating History: The Eye of Ra by Dakota Chase

Potluck by A.J. Colher

Boy Robot by Simon Curtis

Zhukov's Dogs by Amanda Cyr

My Side Of The Story by Will Davis

A Strong and Sudden Thaw by R.W. Day

Ghost Songs by Andrew Demcak

You and Me and Him by Kris Dinnison

Birdy Flynn by Helen Donohoe

Seidman by James Erich

Dreams by James Erich

The Ghost of Buxton Manor by Jonathan L. Ferrara

This is Not a Love Story by Suki Fleet

Willful Machines by Tim Floreen

Always Leaving by Gene Gant

Falling From The Sky by Nikki Godwin

Whatever.: or how junior year became totally f$@ked by S.J. Goslee

Three Truths and a Lie by Brent Hartinger

Rapture Practice: A True Story About Growing Up Gay in an Evangelical Family by Aaron Hartzler

Pukawiss The Outcast by Jay Jordan Hawke

Mysterious Skin by Scott Heim

The Other Boy by M.G. Hennessey

Cupid Painted Blind by Marcus Herzig

Bi-Normal by M.G. Higgins

Freaks and Revelations by Davida Wills Hurwin

Exile by Caleb James

Finding Our Way Series Collection by Jayson James

Gilded Cage by Vic James

Reasons to Love a Nerd Like Me by Becky Jerams

Another Kind of Cowboy by Susan Juby

Martyr by A.R. Kahler

The Dead Will Rise First by Logan Kain

Ómorphi by C. Kennedy

Coins in the Coffee Cup by Ambriehl Khalil

The Red Sun Rises by Victoria Kinnaird

Love Drugged by James Klise

A Destiny of Dragons by T.J. Klune

Read Between the Lines by Jo Knowles

The Sidekicks by Will Kostakis

Andy Squared by Jennifer Lavoie

Collide by J.R. Lenk

Draw the Line by Laurent Linn

True Letters from a Fictional Life by Kenneth Logan

The Star Host by F.T. Lukens

Children Shouldn't Play with Dead Things by Martina McAtee

One Boy's Shadow by Ross A. McCoubrey

When the Moon Was Ours by Anna-Marie McLemore

Bottled Up Secret by Brian McNamara

Stranger in the Wizard's Tower by Deric McNish

The Straight Road to Kylie by Nico Medina

Diary of a Teenage Taxidermist by K.A. Merikan

Cut Both Ways by Carrie Mesrobian

It Looks Like This by Rafi Mittlefehldt

Normal? by Stephen J. Mulrooney

Subject to Change by Karen Nesbitt

Exiled to Iowa. Send Help. And Couture by Chris O'Guinn

Blood Moon by M.J. O'Shea

Away We Go by Emil Ostrovski

I Hate Summer by H.T. Pantu

Thanks a Lot, John LeClair by Johanna Parkhurst

Thinking Straight by Robin Reardon

Chulito by Charles Rice-González

Gemini Bites by P.E. Ryan

The Foxhole Court by Nora Sakavic

Private Display of Affection by Winter Sandberg

A Man's Man by Genta Sebastian

Timekeeper by Tara Sim

Oswin by Timm Spire

Maps by Nash Summers

Nowhere Near You by Leah Thomas

Witch Eyes by Scott Tracey

The Art of Being Normal by Lisa Williamson

Encounter by Perie Wolford

Money Boy by Paul Yee

Sometimes We Tell the Truth by Kim Zarins

Miguel's Secret Journal by A.V. Zeppa

again, let me know if you’ve read any of these and let me know what I should read! :) thanks!