#how similar and or different are they to humans

[infimace-blog]

Keep coming back to this and thinking about the asker's perception of the Weatherlight Saga, because it's definitely not free of 'identity first' storytelling.

Tahngarth's entire plotline revolves around his identity as a minotaur, a racial characteristic in Dominaria. He's forced to question whether he's still himself, still a minotaur after Phyrexia captures and disfigures him, and the payoff for that is that a minotaur tribe starts decorating themselves after his new, distorted form when he helps rescue them from Phyrexia later on. So, you know, having identity issues during a apocalypse, like having a gender crisis during a Bolas invasion.

Mirri was discriminated against for having heterochromia, forcing her to leave her birth family. The desire to belong weighs on her so much that one of her big choices is whether to abandon her best friend and secret love for another tribe of catpeople who do respect her. It's less of a factor in her story than her doomed love for Gerrard, but, frankly, her willingness to get herself killed over a nice white boy for whom she was third-place (after Hanna and Rofellos) makes a lot more sense if if you take abandonment and isolation issues into account.

Maybe the asker didn't notice because these identity issues were put on the non-human side characters. But, you know, they were still there. They're some of my favorite parts of the Weatherlight Saga to talk about, besides the competition to become evincar and Urza's bizarre behavior. And while this happened with funny animal people, the structure is analogous to things the anti-woke crowd would hate. Tahngarth's identity issues are reminiscent of those of black people living in largely white societies. And there's a lot of people under the 'DEI' banner who've had to deal with getting kicked out of their home for being born wrong, often queer or disabled or neuroatypical people.

This is how you give characters good storylines, especially with Magic's limited ability to get the story in front of people who just play the cards. You find an aspect of themselves that they care deeply about, something fairly obvious and easy to communicate, and see how the external world impacts that. And we're still seeing that now. Chandra's putting herself through death-defying adventure in Aetherdrift because it might help her lover, and her love for her is a major part of her identity. Tone's certainly different than the lovelorn motivations of Mirri or Gerrard or Ertai over the course of the Weatherlight Saga, but it's the same building blocks.

I think more of that kind of characterization would have been beneficial for Sisay, honestly. I can't speak for Mark or Michael, but I've never really been interested in her because most of her story is about what she does rather than who she is. Gerrard bores me for similar reasons; I find it difficult to get a read on his personality besides 'heroic' and 'white savior'. It strikes me that the two greatest heroes of that era were raised and, in one case, born from Jamuraa, Dominaria's stand-in for Africa, but that never really comes up in the saga. Gerrard's background exists to give him an evil black stepbrother and the most important part of Sisay's is growing up owning the Weatherlight - I generally forget that she even fought in the Mirage Wars.

So yeah, I think anyone on the same page as the guy who asked this is not interested in getting good stories out of Magic. I'm regularly unimpressed by Magic's story output over the past decade, but I can't tolerate anybody who thinks the answer to that is 'make the characters less interesting. Shave their identities down'.

I want to speak out against the whole push towards DEI. I feel that ever since you made the push to make identity the forefront of a character it has hurt the stories you tell. Captain Sisay's race was never the focus of her character and she was a complete badass! And I fear if you did it over again Gerrard would be trans, black and disabled just because. It also cheapens the stories of world devastation when characters worry more about their gender than Bolas destroying everything.

The reason I started this blog is so we can have frank conversations about things, so please let’s talk about this.

Imagine if every time you turned on the TV or watched a movie, no one looked like you. For some of us, that’s never happened. We see ourselves constantly, so it’s hard to truly understand what not seeing yourself represented in media is like.

I do have a personal window to this experience. While I am white and male, there’s an area where I am the minority - my religion. Jews are just under two and a half percent of the US population. I have had many experiences where I’ve been in situations where everything is geared towards a group I do not belong to, and zero consideration is given that not everyone at that event is part of the majority.

You just feel invisible and like an outsider. It’s not a great feeling. And I just experience it a tiny portion of time, only things that are geared specifically towards something religious. Most minorities have this feeling all the time, whenever they’re outside their personal community.

Now imagine, after years of not seeing yourself ever, you finally see someone that looks like you, but nothing about the character rings remotely true. They don’t sound like you, they don’t act like you, the facts about their day-to-day life are just wrong. It’s clear whoever wrote the character didn’t truly understand the lived experience of the character, so the character feels fake.

You bring up Sisay. Michael Ryan and I didn’t technically create Sisay (she played a small role in the Mirage story), but we did do a lot to flesh out her character as the creators of the Weatherlight Saga. We turned her from a minor character into a major one.

And while I’m proud, in general, of our work on the Weatherlight Saga, I don’t think we did justice to Sisay as a character. Neither Michael nor I have any knowledge of what it’s like to be a black woman. Nor did we ever talk to someone who did.

And if you’re someone like us that has no knowledge of that experience, you probably didn’t notice. But that doesn’t mean it’s a good thing.

Imagine if we made a movie about your life, and we just made everything up. We invented people you never knew, we gave you a job you never had, and we had you say things you’d never say. The movie might even be a good movie, but your response would be, but that’s not my life - that’s not me.

Now imagine we put the movie out, and people that never met you assumed that was what you were like. When people met you for the first time, they assumed things, because, you know, they’d seen the movie.

That’s what misrepresenting people does. It not only makes them feel not seen, it falsely represents them, spreading lies, often stereotypes, making people believe things about them that aren’t true.

Our move towards diversity is just us trying to better reflect the world and the people in it. We’re trying to do to everyone else what a certain portion of people get every day without ever having to think about it.

But why are we “making it the forefront of their character”? We’re not. We’re making it a part of their character. But in a world where you’re not used to ever seeing it, it feels louder than it is. Things that are a natural part of the world that you’re used to feel like the background of the story because you understand the context to it.

If a man kisses his wife before going off to a battle, that’s not a big deal. It’s just a thing a husband might do to his wife when he leaves. It’s not the forefront of his character. It’s just part of his life. But you’ve seen it hundreds of times, so it feels normal.

When someone does something that isn’t your lived experience it pulls focus. It seems like a big deal, but only because it’s new to you. It’s just as mundane a thing to that character as the man kissing his wife is to him.

Even the turn “pushing” implies that it’s unnaturally here, that we’re forcing something that naturally shouldn’t be. But why? That thing exists naturally in the real world, and it doesn’t make the real world any less. Maybe you’re less aware of it, but is making you aware of how others live their life “pushing” something on you?

How you live your life is represented constantly, everywhere. Why isn’t over-representing your experience at the expense of everyone else’s “pushing” it? Why is media only being the experience of those in power the “proper way”?

Having more depth and variety doesn’t lessen stories. It makes them deeper, more rich, more nuanced. In short, it makes them better stories. In my former life, I was a professional writer. I took a lot of writing classes. One of the truism of writing is “speaking truth leads to better stories”.

There’s another famous quote: “When you’re accustomed to privilege, equality feels like oppression.” You’re used to being over-represented, so being a little less over-represented feels like something has been taken from you. But really it hasn’t. Having a better sense of the rest of the world comes with a lot of benefits.

I’ll use food as an example. Let’s say all you were ever exposed to was the food of your heritage. Yeah, that food is really good, but sometimes isn’t it nice to eat foods of other nationalities? Isn’t your life better that you have a choice? Isn’t your exposure and access to the food of other nationalities a positive in your life?

Exposure to variety is a positive. It allows you to learn about things you didn’t know, experience things things you’ve never experienced, and get a better sense of understanding of your friends and neighbors.

Our actions are not to harm anyone, and if you think that’s what we’re doing, please take a minute to actually absorb what I’m saying. You’ve spent your whole life metaphorically eating one type of food, and we’re just trying to show you how much you’ve missed out on.

And while this might not impact you directly, we’re making a whole bunch of people felt seen. We’re bringing joy. Think of it this way. We make a lot of cards. Not every card is for you. But if it makes someone else happy, if they get to include it in a deck, and it makes Magic better for them, how is it harming you that we include it? You have so many cards that you can play.

To this poster or people that share their viewpoint, the narrative that a gain for someone else is an attack on you is just not true. As I just pointed out above, you play a game all about personal choice, about players getting to choose how they play and enjoy the game. Why should life be any different than Magic?

Thanks for reading.

[arayapendragon]

how i shift 🦉

it took me years of experimenting, trial and error to realize i don’t need methods, subliminals and guided meditations to shift. while i do agree that these tools can help you shift, because they do work for many people, my recent experiences have helped me understand that all you truly need to shift is yourself, nothing else. and nothing can ever change that. 

you simply need to have an awareness, which you obviously do ahahaha. to shift, you just need to align that awareness to your desired reality. here’s how i do it:

i decide where i want to shift to, and think about that reality for a while

i acknowledge the fact that my desired reality exists somewhere in the multiverse, and that it is possible to become aware of it

i embrace a “fuck it, whatever happens, happens” mindset and let go. i detach from the outcome (to shift)

i become equally open to both waking up in my cr and waking up in my dr. i put neither event above the other, i am okay with either of them happening. if i shift, that’s great. if i don’t, that’s okay. i can always try again. i have all the time in the world to do so. 

i decide that i will wake up in my dr and fall asleep

i wake up in my dr 

i've noticed that each time i used this technique, i shifted successfully. its helped me with 2 intentional shifts, and several other shifts to one-off dr’s and random realities in the past, so i can assure you that this works! :) this is a simple technique for overthinkers or people who don’t like methods. it helps you embrace your natural talent, and proves how easy, effortless, and natural shifting can be. 

here’s my 2 success stories from using this technique:

last october i was taking an afternoon nap and spontaneously decided to shift to my hogwarts golden trio era dr. i fell asleep while affirming "i am" and woke up on the train to hogwarts, exactly as i'd scripted! i was standing outside the compartment, and all my senses were present in that reality. i could hear the train horn, the sound of the people talking, i could see the interior of the train in front of me, and felt the chugging of the train beneath my feet.

this image is very similar to what i saw during that shift

2. i wanted to shift to my hogwarts legacy dr yesterday night. while falling asleep, i decided that i was going to wake up on the hogwarts express, but was also equally open to waking up in my cr. i didn't mind either outcome. i let go and fell asleep. as i woke up, something felt different. my eyes were closed but i was no longer lying down - i was sitting upright. i was no longer in a still and silent environment - i felt the chugging of the train engine beneath my feet. i quickly realized that i had in fact shifted to my hogwarts legacy dr and was on the train to hogwarts. i shifted back after a minute as i was quite dazed and disoriented, but i shifted nevertheless!

my advice 

don’t try to follow someone else’s steps. do what resonates with YOU, its your journey. 

embrace the process and each step of your shifting journey. demotivation is normal, you’re only human, it won’t stop you from shifting. 

realize that you don’t need anything to shift but yourself. if guided meditations and subliminals work for you, then keep at it! but if you’re not making any progress with them, its time you rely on yourself rather than external aid to shift. the power lies within you, its always been there. 

there's no need to put in effort while doing your method 

simply thinking about your dr and deciding that you want to be there can help you shift

go with the flow, be spontaneous and have fun

stop doing things that aren’t working for you

detach from the outcome of shifting, it will happen eventually, don’t focus on it happening too much

happy shifting! 🩷

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

Hi, I hope this is an okay question to ask. I am s l o w l y exploring and learning what kinds of kinks I like. I’m drawn to taboo kinks and I’m really curious about ageplay, but I’m worried that if I open the door to letting that be hot, I’m going to start seeing actual kids as hot. Obviously that doesn’t mean I would do anything about it, but I’m still not sure I want that in my head. Is there any truth in this fear? Could that happen?

well much in the same way that the majority of pup players aren't trying to hump real labradors on the street, D&D players generally aren't running around pulling swords on random shopkeepers, and my years doing Warriors Cats rp online never made me want to live in the woods pissing in the dirt and eating mice, I suspect that what you're attracted to is the safety of fantasy and play rather than the actual, literal thing. pretty big line between those two things, actually, and most people are pretty clear on the difference between stuff that's made up and harmless and stuff that's really really bad. I use this example often, but I assure you that my abiding love of Batman using his billions of dollars to dick around doing lawless bullshit has not softened my feelings on Elon Musk in the slightest.

I assume that, like most well-adjusted adults, you aren't attracted to children. what you're into is, presumably, adults acting in ways that are characterized as immature, carefree, cutesy, helpless, bratty, etc, and the dynamic of those playacting adults might have with others who take the role of their caregivers. that is... so, so, so far removed from being attracted to an actual human child. I don't know if you've ever actually, like, hung out with kids, but they're pretty different than adults. I mean obviously they're little humans who have their own opinions and ideas and personalities and have a right to autonomy and making their own decisions as much as is safely possible, but they are REALLY different from age appropriate, sexually compatible adults. someone doing ageplay is, like, a million miles from an actual kid.

it's kind of like how when Riverdale was on I'd see gifs of that insane redheaded lesbian and go "yeah, she's hot." like, sure, the character's a teenager, but that actress is an adult woman who's only two years younger than me and we all know that. the idea of fucking an actual teenager is vile. even if I were to see someone and have an initial aesthetic appreciation, the second they open their mouth and start saying 17 year old things the attraction is gone because I've realized that's a child.

(no offense to the teens in the room! you're great and I'm sure your 17 year old stuff is really important to you! but adults should not want to fuck you, is the point.)

so what I'm saying is: seems unlikely!

also, okay. let's assume the absolute worst case scenario happens and you experience a twinge of sexual interest towards a child. that's understandably alarming; that's not an urge most people want to harbor within themselves. that may require some dialing back from ageplay, or a chat with a kink-friendly mental health professional, or seeking out some community and advice from others in your kink scene who may have struggled with something similar. but please, give yourself some credit: you have some shred of impulse control within your body, yes? you're not going to make the leap from having a thought to being an active child predator in one fell swoop. the choice to harm a child, or to seek out pornographic material of child sexual abuse, are still choices that you would have to actually make. and it's making those choices to do harm that actually make child abusers a danger, not just having thoughts. having a thought all by itself doesn't hurt anyone; it's the way you act on it that has the potential to cause harm.

but again, I want to emphasize, sexual behavior is by and large a pretty easy wire not to get crossed with other things. please note the brave billions of people who manage to get through every day without groping their colleagues and random strangers because they understand it's not the appropriate time, place, or partner!

[yesimwriting]

Phantom Lurking

A/n This is a story set in the bestie reader verse that I briefly mentioned in an ask, but there's no specific context needed outside of the fact that reader and louis are extremely close best friends

Warnings: nothing too crazy (especially when compared to the source material) but there's mentions/implications of someone putting something in reader's drink but, within the fic, reader is never actually in danger of being physically hurt, reader feeling sick/anxious, Armand being emotionally manipulative as a way of expressing affection

Summary: After an argument with Louis, you decide to go out with an old friend. Once you're home again, you're forced to deal with two realizations. The first is that you feel a lot worse than you should, and the second is that Armand isn't the worst at being helpful when he wants to be.

----

The world feels flat, like one of the three dimensions you're used to being able to perceive has slipped into nonexistence. You frown, letting the thought inch its way up your spine.

You blink. Once and then twice, as if the familiarity of the gesture will be enough to remind you of what you were doing--of the reason for the phone in your hand.

"Woah," the voice is sharp enough in its happiness to jab at your stomach. You lift your head, ignoring the rigidness of the movement as you look to the source of the sound. Grace--your friend, Grace. A part of you is almost complacent enough to be eased by the realization that she's here. "You look so sad."

You can feel your eyebrows draw together. Do you? And then, as your fingers tighten around your cell phone, a second thought latches itself onto the first: Are you?

"Don't worry," she says, voice so chipper it almost stings. "He'll be over it tomorrow."

Right. On instinct, you let your head fall downwards. You unlock your phone, eyes narrowing at the screen's brightness as you open your messages. No new ones. Just the last texts you managed to send to Louis before you started feeling too nauseous to type: Not feeling. Okkay.

The lack of response presses itself into your lungs, making it impossible to breathe right. Louis was upset , but you can't imagine him ever being mad enough to not text you back. "But Louis answers."

Grace watches you for a second, her head tilting curiously at your phrasing. "Maybe he's sleeping." When the suggestion doesn't seem to sway you, she places a hand on your bare shoulder. Your mind is aware enough to acknowledge the intentions behind the contact, but her skin is so warm and sweaty against yours it's nearly nauseating. "It's late."

Louis keeps different hours than the general population, but that's not something you can fault her for not knowing. Besides, maybe it is so late that the night is morphing into morning. It wouldn't be the first time you and Grace lost an entire night to partying, and it would explain why you feel so incredibly out of it.

And...if Louis was really upset, he might have gone to bed early. He mentioned once that sometimes vampires enclose themselves in their coffins to avoid dealing with discomfort. It sounds deeply dramatic to you, but it's possible he's doing something similar.

You exhale, nodding so slowly the motion feels like more of a caricature of a human response than anything else. She laughs, the sound full in its certainty. Your stomach doesn't know how to digest her easiness.

"You'll feel better tomorrow." Grace's hand pulls itself away from your arm. "Okay--keys." When all you do is stare at her, she sighs. "First, I have to stop you from going home with that weird guy you met while waiting for the bathroom..." She trails off as she reaches for your purse. "And now you don't even remember where you are."

Hm. Grace's chastising gives you something to focus on. You blink, lifting your gaze as you glance around the building. The pale walls and warm lighting are familiar...this is your apartment building. How did you get to your apartment building?

Grace rifles through your purse, the contents of your bag clinking together as she searches through it. After a second, she seems to find what she's looking for. She turns away from you and towards the door.

"Okay," she hums triumphantly, "We're in."

You take the words as a sign to step forward. Your thoughts don't align with your movements. The delay is enough to make you stumble, your foot missing the base of your heel.

Grace is next to you in a second, her hands latching onto your arms to keep you stable. "How much did you drink?" The question lacks her earlier amusement.

You're not sure you're meant to respond, but you think about it anyway. It didn't feel like that much...but you don't exactly remember every moment, every drink--and you were mad at Louis.

She watches you for a second, her eyes wide and much too focused. "Are you okay?" It's a question your mind refuses to dwell on. Of course you're okay. "Like--okay to be left alone."

"Mhm," the answer feels hollow, "Yeah." Grace continues to stare, her lips pressed together in a way that conveys her uncertainty. "I'm just gonna go to sleep."

She studies you for another beat, and then sighs, "Okay--but straight to bed. And no more texting." Easy enough to follow. Grace lets go of you slowly. "And maybe try to drink some water--and--and try to sleep on your side."

You nod blankly, your hands reaching for the door in front of you. "Water, side, no texting."

Grace sighs as she walks forward. "And call me in the morning, okay?"

You squeeze the side of the door in an attempt to feel more stable. Tomorrow morning feels so far...so impossible. "Okay. Yeah."

She turns her head to look at you one last time before continuing down the hall. You step into your apartment before shutting the door behind you.

The darkness of your apartment immediately pushes itself to the front of your mind, blending into your unease in a way that's dizzying. You exhale, letting your weight rest against the door. You shut your eyes, inhaling as you force yourself to focus on the concrete. The ground beneath your feet is steady, the wood against your back is stable.

"You turned off your location."

The tension that takes over your body is so sharp, so heavy it briefly leaves you paralyzed. You open your eyes, pushing yourself further against the door.

Wait. The voice. You know that voice. The recognition doesn't ease you until a familiar figure pulls itself away from the shadows enshrouding your living room in darkness.

"Oh my god," you manage a second too late, the words devoid of the necessary bite needed to turn the phrase into a warning. "I thought you were a serial killer."

Armand doesn't care about your reaction. He just continues walking towards you with slow, even steps. Your mind is too foggy for his theatrics. "What..." Your questions feel too inadequate for you to make them mean anything. "Is Louis--is he okay?"

He stills at that, but it doesn't really matter. He's close enough now that the darkness isn't obscuring his features. For a moment, you think the question might have softened his expression. "Now you can find it in yourself to worry about him? After the way you spoke to him?"

Of course Louis told him. The haziness clinging to your thoughts has turned everything into sludge. Your lips part, some barely coherent defense-apology hybrid attempting to crawl its way up your throat. All you can manage is a slurred, "He was--dramatic, and I--" You push a hand against the door in an attempt to make yourself stand on your own. "I'm sorry." You're not sure why you're apologizing. It's not like Louis can hear it.

Armand continues forward. You don't think about where he might be going until you feel his hand on your arm. He's a lot less careful than Grace was, but something about the feel of his skin against yours is also a lot less overwhelming. If anything, the coolness of his touch is almost alievating.

"I don't--" You're not sure there's much point in explaining anything. Not when the only thing tethering you to consciousness is your nausea. You can't remember ever feeling so separate from yourself. "I don't feel good. If you're gonna lecture me, do it tomorrow."

Tomorrow. It feels more like a concept than a date. Things would be so much better if you could just fade out of existence until then.

Armand pulls you away from the door. Your limbs are too stiff to protest. His eyebrows draw together, and something behind his expression shifts. "I'm not here to lecture you."

"Then why are you here?"

His thumb moves out of place, brushing against your skin soothingly. "After your argument--Louis came back to me, he told me about what you said, how you treated him, and then he went to bed. Hours later, you sent him a message saying you didn't feel well..." He squeezes your arm a little tighter. "And you turned off your location."

It had been an extremely petty move, but in the moment, a few drinks in, it had felt so reasonable. If Louis was going to see you as fragile, you'd have to show him that you felt no interest in being looked after. "I was mad."

"And now you're experiencing natural consequence." His hold on you morphs into something that borders on uncomfortable, his nails pressing into your skin. "Do you know what people see when they look at you?" You can't do anything but stare at him. "You refuse to acknowledge your vulnerability, and then you stumble home like this."

Okay--you're drunk, but not--not horrible. You’re standing (mostly), and you haven't said anything weird to him. "You're not clueless." The words almost feel like a compliment. "How much did you have to drink?" You don't have an answer. "You don't know? Because I've seen you with Louis, and even when alcohol makes you sick, it's never like this."

Your limbs seem to grow heavier at the implication of his words. Did someone drug you? There was that one guy that hung around you and Grace a little too long, but he never got you a drink.

"Maybe you'll learn to appreciate Louis's warnings instead of running off with the first girl that offers you something simple."

Louis--when he learns about what happened, when he learns that you tried to call him...and that he wasn't there. "Don't tell him."

He angles his head towards you. "You're asking me to keep a secret from my companion for you?"

Ugh. "No." You didn't mean it that way, or at the very least, you didn't want to mean it that way. You can't make sense of things for yourself let alone for another person. "I don't know." Your head is starting to ache. "I just don't--I don't want him to feel bad."

Armand lets go of you slowly, his fingertips brushing against your arm as he straightens. "We'll worry about him tomorrow." There's a certainty there that leaves no room for argument.

The thought of delaying your worry doesn't feel as simple as he's making it out to be, but you can't find the words or energy to disagree. You're not sure what you'd be arguing for, anyway.

He turns with no warning, walking down the hall like this is his apartment. His decisiveness might have bothered you if it didn't make things feel a little easier. Even with Armand serving as a guiding force, your mind seems to buffer. It takes you a second to think to act on the desire to follow him.

It shouldn't be surprising that Armand seems so comfortable moving through your apartment. He's nowhere near as familiar with this space as Louis, but you find it hard to imagine Armand uncomfortable anywhere.

He finds your room. A more coherent version of yourself would have had the energy to worry about the last minute outfits you rejected and didn't have time to put away sitting on your desk chair.

The familiarity of your bedroom is enough to get you to move forward. You approach your bed, half-sitting-half-stumbling onto the mattress. You're not given the chance to settle before your muscles slump out of place. It's an unraveling of tension that offers you no peace.

Dread pools in your stomach. You blink, screwing your eyes shut before forcing them open again in an attempt to fight against the drowsiness blurring your vision. It's too sudden, too heavy.

"You can't fall asleep like that." The words are gentle enough to reach you through your panic.

You want to tell him that you can't be falling asleep, that falling asleep doesn't hold this kind of weight. Instead of struggling to piece your thoughts into something intelligible, you lift your head slightly and mumble a flat, "I'm not."

Armand's back is to you, his attention focused on your dresser. When he turns to face you again, he's holding a familiar piece of fabric. One of the oversized T-shirts you sleep in.

It takes much more focus than it should for you to press your elbows into your bedding. The edges of your vision grow spotty as you stand. You're managing, but everything about your positioning feels circumstantial, like the slightest shift could push you into unconsciousness.

He hands you your shirt. You squeeze the fabric between your fingers. Before you can think to do anything else, Armand's hand finds your wrist. You still at the contact. He moves towards you with slow, deliberate steps.

Armand stops directly behind you. He sets his palm against your shoulder, his thumb smoothing patterns against your shoulder. His other hand settles against your upper back. Something about the contact makes it a little easier to breathe.

You're just getting used to his proximity making things feel easier when he pulls his palm away from you. Before you can overthink the shift, you realize what he's doing. The zipper of your dress has been tugged out of its place.

Armand's slow to release you, his fingertips dragging against your skin as he steps away from you. He walks forward until he's in front of you again, his attention firmly focused on the wall. It takes you a moment to realize that this is him offering you privacy.

You pull the T-shirt over your head with a tact that feels similar to that of a toddler dressing themselves for the first time. You adjust the shirt's hem before pulling the straps of your dress off of your shoulders and down your arms. The material pools at your feet. You step out of the puddle of sequined fabric.

You tilt your head downwards, frowning at the discarded dress. You need to pick it up.

"Sit." The instruction is presented with a directness that leaves no room for resistance, and yet all you can bring yourself to do is blink at him. He turns to face you again. "The last thing you need is proximity to the ground."

His voice is implying a level of irritation you can't handle right now, so you step away from the dress and move to sit on your bed. Armand walks forward. He bends down, picking up the dress before approaching your desk. He lays the dress over the back of your desk chair neatly.

He approaches your bed again, this time sitting down next to you. The return of his proximity is strangely easing. When he doesn't say anything else, you give in to the need to break the silence, "Thanks."

Armand nods once in acknowledgement of the sentiment. "Lie down." The thought immediately digs at you. If you lay down, if you lose consciousness, you'll be letting go of the little control you still have. Anything could happen to you, and--and you'd be so alone.

When you don't move, Armand straightens, his arm extending towards you. His hand finds your shoulder. "I can stay..." The offer feels fragile, like the slightest mistake on your end could force it to crumble into dust. "But only if you listen to me." He turns his hand over as you let his words sink in. He drags his knuckles against your arm patiently. "Are you going to listen to me?"

You nod, if for no other reason than to keep him here. If your acceptance means anything to him, his expression gives no indication of it. "Lie down."

You give in with a sigh, pushing your bedding back as best as you can from your position on the bed. You move beneath your sheets before relaxing against a pillow. After a second, Armand begins to shift. You're not sure what he's doing until he's lying down next to you. The return of his proximity is unexpected, but not unwelcome.

He adjusts your comforter just enough to expose your forearm. Before you can think about the change, he begins to trace patterns against your inner arm. The gesture is oddly grounding...and considerate...which, even in your current state, you can tell is odd.

"Can I ask you something?"

He continues to drag his fingertips against your skin. "A lack of permission has never stopped you before."

A fair point. "Why are you being so nice to me?"

He tilts his head slightly as he considers the question. "Am I usually cruel to you?"

That's not exactly the difference. Armand is never particularly cruel to you. He's never made you feel like you're in physical danger, which means a lot when considering what he is. You've never even had much of a reason to fear arguing with him. However, you can't recall him ever being so understanding.

"No," you find yourself hoping he can feel how much you mean the answer. "But you're usually less patient."

His hand briefly stills against your arm. "I prefer a fair fight."

The sentiment roots itself in your chest, leaving your skin a little warmer than it was a moment again. "We can have one tomorrow."

"I don't doubt it," he says, voice much flatter than before.

Hm. The comment isn't exactly aggressive, but it implies an annoyance that doesn't suit his actions. Something uneasy wedges itself between your lungs and ribs. "Are you mad at me?"

You turn your head as best as you can, staring at him with an openness that a more sober version of yourself would have never allowed. "Mad at you, the darling sun?"

You sigh, letting your eyes fall shut. "Don't start."

"I'm not starting anything," his defense, though already weak, is further softened by the easiness of his tone. "I'm only recognizing what you are."

Opening your eyes, you turn your head to face him again. "What am I?"

He's quiet for a moment before angling his head towards you. It's a subtle shift, but something about it seems to amplify his proximity. Armand's eyes look a little softer than you remember them being, his irises closer to a brown-tinged ember than their usual amber hue. Maybe it's the limited lighting.

"Worthwhile suffering."

The answer feels much too soft to be considered an insult. You're not sure what to think of it. "You're very dramatic."

His hand stills against your arm. "I'm dramatic, when you're the one that turned off your location."

You don't have a decent response. Even as a teenager, you knew better than to completely turn off your location without letting anyone know where you were going during a night out. You're lucky that Grace was there and aware enough to get you back home, but things could have gone so much worse.

The thought of how incredibly stupid you've been burrows itself into your stomach, adding a sharpness to the underlying nausea you've almost been able to forget. Knowing that you're wrong and Armand's right isn't helping things, either.

And Louis--your Louis. Who cares if sometimes he worries so much it makes you feel like burden? At least he cares about you.

"I was mean to Louis."

Armand's hand stills against your forearm, his fingers pressing into your skin in a way that somehow feels both reassuring and resentful. "He'll let it pass."

You let out a self deprecating sigh. There's no reason to believe that Louis won't forgive you, but that doesn't make things okay. "He shouldn't."

"Don't be a martyr." His dismissal isn't enough to diminish your angst. You frown, shifting away from him so that you can lie flat on your back. He's quick to counter your resistance, adjusting his position so that he's sitting up a lot more than you are. He's practically leaning over you, and all you can think to do is stare.

"He loves you," Armand's voice is a lot quieter than you thought it'd be, "There isn't a single thing you could do that he wouldn't forgive."

His certainty is enough for both of you. After a second of blankness, you find it in yourself to nod. The gesture is stiff and uneasy, but it seems to be enough for him. He relaxes slowly, moving to rest his head against your ribs.

His closeness is more of a surprise than it should be. You and Louis have fallen asleep like this more times than you can count. The shock takes a moment to subside, but once it does, you realize that you're... not uncomfortable.

Slowly, as if approaching a wounded animal, you move a hand to rest against his upper back. Neither of you move.

"You should go to sleep," he whispers after what could be a long or short stretch of silence, "You'll be yourself in the morning."

The suggestion is a lot less overwhelming now. Maybe it's because you feel a lot more concrete now. You shut your eyes, but before you can try to find rest, you remember where you are and who you're with.

"Wait," you mumble, "The window--" You're not managing the urgency you feel. While your room isn't exactly flooded with light in the morning, the sun does reach your bed in the mornings if you don't remember to fully shut your curtains.

"The curtains are fine." Armand shifts slightly, his hand settling against the arm not bent against his back. "Rest."

You close your eyes again, this time finding it in yourself to relax fully.

----

@joong-of-gold this is the fic i mentioned having in my drafts a little while ago!!

[usagiarchive]

angel of the codeine scene — [09] over and and over again

prev / masterlist / afterword

sypnosis. [ 1.6k words. epilogue ] — The end of the suffering and the beginning of a new start.

usagi's note: HI i hope u guys read my afterword, there is so much i wanna say, but in case u guys, don't read it, i just really wanna say thanku for choosing to read this, ily guys, thanks for reading until the end <3

Rex Lapis was not indifferent.

He tries really hard to give Liyue and its people the epilogue after the war, to preserve the peace they protect, and to give his remaining yaksha the epilogue he deserves.

He tries, really.

Because he couldn't give the same to himself.

In a war where you are blessed to find love, you will be cursed to choose who to protect. Yourself? Your people? Or your lover?

There are no multiple choices, you can only choose one.

Rex Lapis had to find out the hard way.

He sends for Baizhu-yisheng and Changsheng-xiaoren again, just to make sure his warrior doesn't lose hope.

To make sure he doesn't have regrets.

To make sure he gets his own epilogue.

At sunset, they perform the ritual once again.

…

The hair on the back of Xiao's next rose once he saw the golden beacon of light once more.

He's seen this once.

Back when…

He… it… he doesn't want to hope.

The Conqueror of Demons hears his god's summons. He goes.

…

“Are you sure it's alright to do this…?” Baizhu asks as he helps clothe your…? (was it still you?) body…? into new garments.

“To do what?” Rex Lapis asks as he ties your hair up.

You- or rather what Baizhu thinks is a reincarnation of you, has been blinking sleepily for the past half hour, leaning over to Liyue’s Archon.

“To bring her back to life?”

“Hm…” The Archon thinks as he pets your head, “She's not dead, hasn't been at all,”

Baizhu's eyebrows knit together, waiting for the man to explain.

“But, the scene at Luhua Pool?”

He merely laughs, “Simply to immortalize her,” he says, “Luhua Pool is a door to a different plane of existence, it serves to preserve her memories and soul,”

Rex Lapis’ eyes stare at him and smile, “This right here is only a body, a… shell of sorts,”

Baizhu feels horrified at this but at the same time he is intrigued, with this kind of creation, would it be possible to immortalize a normal human?

“Worry not, this has been done many times before, I've done this with Ganyu, too, though her place of transmission was different, Cloud Retainer and Moon Carver have gone through a similar process back in the war,”

Changsheng hisses amusedly at her companion's reaction.

“Baizhu-yisheng, Changsheng-xiaoren? Would you accompany me to Luhua Pool?”

…

There are only a few times Xiao has felt sick to his stomach.

The first was when he was told to eat dreams for the first time.

The second was when he lost you at the river.

The third was when he learned that the other Yaksha had succumbed to death.

And the fourth was when he realized he killed you.

Seeing Luhua Pool again, with Rex Lapis' back to him, was the fifth.

The Archon knew of his presence even before he neared the ground.

“Xiao,” he greets.

“Morax,” Xiao kneels.

“Stand.”

Weapons do not question their wielder. Servants do not question their masters. Demons do not question their gods-

He faces his Archon, “Why?”

Rex Lapis steps aside and he sees…

You.

Zhongli lets out a small sad smile when he sees the warrior buckle at the knees at the sight of you.

“I… How… Is this… Is this a mockery? A punishment?” his warrior says as he tries his hardest not to show emotion in front of his god.

“No, Xiao,” he says as he places a shoulder on his and guides him to you, “A solace.”

“A reprieve.”

“I don't- I don't understand- why would-”

“Would you like to do the honors of bringing her back to you?”

You stare at him with curiosity as Zhongli guides Xiao to you.

You're quiet again.

“Dip her in the water, she already knows what to do, you just need to hold her, I'll take care of the rest,” his voice ever assuring.

“Qingxin…”

Xiao carries you in his arms, the same way he did when he brought you here to rest, he slowly eases you into the water, eyes on you the whole time, watching for any sign of discomfort.

But you only stared back at him, holding nothing of the memories from before.

“Close your eyes, okay?” he murmurs.

Once he sees you nod and your eyes flutter shut, he lowers you deeper into the water until your face is submerged and Rex Lapis begins to chant with Changsheng.

“Qingxin,” Xiao closes his eyes and presses his forehead to yours under the water.

“Come back to me.”

…

In the dusk, among the quiet of the night, Luhua Pool glows with beauty, the fireflies string around to illuminate and enhance the reflection of the moon above.

…

Your hand catches onto the back of Xiao's neck and he lifts your face above the water.

The chanting from the two has already ended and they stand to watch as the conqueror of demons wipe away the water from your face as you cough a bit.

His hand stays to cup your face.

“Xiansheng?”

Tears drip onto your face without him even realising it.

“Forgive me,” he chokes on his words, “I never- I never meant to- to hurt you, or- or to lose control, I- I should've been faster, I should've- should've asked for- asked for he-”

“Hey, hey, no,” you say as you pull him into your neck, “I'm fine, I'm here, I'm with you,”

Xiao sobs even harder into your neck, “I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry,” he repeats over and over.

You pull Xiao, your Xiao, into your arms and give him the tightest embrace you could muster with your current strength right now and he bunches the back of your hanfu as he hugs you loosely, not wanting to hurt you with his strength.

As he buries his face into your neck, you're caught with the sight of Morax looking at the two of you with a smile, Baizhu-yisheng and Changsheng-xiaoren nowhere to be found.

“Thank you,” you mouth.

He nods and leaves in a trail of golden light.

You thread your fingers into Xiao's hair and he sighs the last of his sobs into your skin.

“Xiansheng, should we go home?”

Xiao pulls away from you and nods, wiping at his face with his hands, you giggle as you help him, his eyes still rimmed with red.

“Come now, we have a lot to talk about,” you say and he warps away.

…

That night was the most you've ever heard Xiao talk, or at least according to your memories, which were still a bit fuzzy, but you remember enough from your first reincarnation.

The memories from your time with Xiao in the war were even fuzzier now, as if they were books you've read but can't remember the context of, only returning in feelings or scents.

Xiao has apologized more than eighty times that night, his tears endless as you comfort him in your arms.

“Don't worry, now that the whole reincarnating thing is an option, you won't get rid of me so easily,”

“I wish not to be rid of you at all,” he says, voice still stuffy from crying.

“How cute,” you say as you pinch the cheek that wasn't resting on your chest, “The conqueror of demons all so soft,”

…

The two of you talk for the rest of the night, helping each other understand, and taking the time to make him understand that it wasn't his fault.

Xiao promises never to hurt you again and you promise never to leave his side for too long.

After all, his karmic debt, even if significantly reduced by your previous incarnation, was still active.

You decide to get tea with Morax the next day.

…

“Ah, that,” he says as he pours a fruit blend tea, sunsettia and apple tea, “Well, to be frank with you, I haven't the slightest idea of how you reduced his karmic debt,”

“Wait, you mean to tell me that you created me to 'heal him', but you yourself have no idea how to?”

It was… a bit unnerving for Xiao to hear you question his Archon so openly.

“Yes, forgive me, dear, I only wanted a reprieve for your beloved,” he says and takes a sip of his tea.

“That's so… hmph,” you huff and take a sip of your tea.

“Well, what about how I heal him?” You ask a different question.

“I have my suspicions that it aided your untimely death,” Morax says.

“What?”

“Well, the universe must find balance, to take is to be given, and to be given is to take.”

Xiao's brows knit together, “Are you saying she died because she healed me?”

“Yes, Xiao, although I can bring her back, so I do not think it will be an issue, on another note, too, the karmic debt does not further resurface after she somehow heals it,”

The warrior holds his head, that was… a lot of information to take in… he takes a look at you and sighs, this will surely be your topic for the night.

“Wait, I don't get it, if you could bring me back, why didn't you bring Guizhong-xiangsheng back?”

The Archon smiles sadly.

“Because her body didn't have a medium to preserve her memories,” he paused, “She did not want to be reincarnated, she told me so,”

“Oh.”

“Sorry,” you apologize as you pour him another cup of tea.

He laughs at that, “No worries, my child, it is in the past, I'm sure wherever Guizhong is now, she is happier and at peace,”

He looks up at the sky and feels the breeze flow through his hair.

As you look at Xiao, who seems to enjoy the breeze of the wind, too, you think.

You'll choose Xiao.

You'll choose to reincarnate.

You'll heal him and rid him of his karmic debt.

Over and over again.

Until you both get the epilogue you deserve.

prev / masterlist / afterword

usagi's note: ITS 😭 OVER 😭 I 😭 CANT 😭 BELIEVE 😭 IT 😭 im so thankful to everyone who read seriously ily all, to those in the taglist, tysm, i never would've imagined people would actually read this, pls read the afterword if u have time!! im gonna say a lot there, i hope u all take care mwa !! see u next time gbye!!

taglist (open!! green can't be tagged): @irenedoesthings @cherrysnows @makuzume @smoochi-modest @bvtterflyyy @original-person @aphxdea @iratempestatis @constellationguy @lloversss @femaholicc @arietheyluv

@usagiarchive 2025. do not repost, translate, or use for AI. reblogs, likes, and comments are very appreciated!!

[lustlovehart]

Modern Monster!Twst... mmm (I need to stop making different variations of the same au LMAO)

Warnings: Human Eating, Blood, influencer!Reader (who is the opposite of MH!Reader in terms of personality. You'll see how 😭), Breaking and Entering, Zombies in your bed

Maybe rather than a monster hunter, you’re an influencer who fakes monster sightings. You record yourself sifting through abandoned places, searching every place, and without fail, something always seems to appear from the shadows, your poor self only narrowly escaping...

Most of your audience knows its, but there are always many who believe its real simply from the sheer horror! It looks so real!

With your camera in hand, you walk into the abandoned asylum, famed in history for its treatments. When patients go mad, they lock their necks with tight collars, old studies believing it would stop the illness from spreading to their heads... Heartslaybul "hospital".

Maybe it's a special live stream. While you're talking the chat begins to explode with worries, their fear seeping into you.

Your friend didn't tell you they were gonna set off the fake that early... You're ready to turn off your camera and search for your friend, only met with a glowing, transparent light. It's similar to the ghost fake you've used a few times before, but... since when was it red?

Realization finally hits you when you turn to the side; pale blue hair holds what looks like your friend's camera, curiously gazing at the contraption splattered with crimson.

You drop your stream onto the floor, not daring to look at the chat, not your back. You don't even make it five feet before you're met with decaying limbs wrapping arms around you, orange hair invading your vision, a heart-shaped wound on your captors face.

"You like monsters a lot, don't you?" his smile is cocky as his arms envelop your waist, "you wouldn't mind letting one take a bite, yeah?" He's about to take a chunk out of you with his canines before another rotting man appears, except with more stitches than wounds and a height that towers over everything. He's swift to hoist you over his shoulder, out of the gluttonous beast's range.

"You have to share, Ace. It's harder to find food than it was a while ago." You would jump out of his hold, but being eight feet in the air is horrifying.

Any shouts are caught in your throat, especially when another person comes into frame, except... He looks the most normal out of all them, albeit the slight wisp in his body... and the way his mouth is delayed like it doesn't belong there.

"They're kinda cute! Can't believe this frail thing is the one I've been watching!" his bright personality contrasts the dark background, as well as the stifling atmosphere. The corpse holding your friend's camera walks over. His face looks sorry, but the way he licks his lips clean of blood tells a different one.

Your lips tremble; you may not have seen it first hand, but you'd be a fool to believe they survived that. Survive...

You have to...! You really wish you had a gun right now, or maybe even a knife you don't know! Anything!

"Here's you friends... weapon, I think. They were kinda hitting me with it so."

...

"Please don't eat me!!! I've been eating junk for the last few weeks. I promise I probably taste like grease and sugar!" Maybe they're the brain-eating type... "Ah, I'm... stupid! Yeah, my brain doesn't taste good at all!" You continue your blabbering, begging them not to take a bite out of you as you flail. Your legs kick the giant you're on, and each hit has him awkwardly smiling, yet it doesn't stop him from holding you. he doesn't seem phased at all...

If you can somehow get out, the exit to the forest isn't far... In fact! Your apartment isn't far at all!

The red glow you saw first float in front of you, the stitched corners of his mouth twitching into a devious smile.

"No one's broken the rules of coming here in awhile. Even humans have gone as far to make rules themself about entering, yet you disobeyed them too." he leans closer, dark hollow eyes staring into yours. "You broke them; what is your reason?"

"I saw a picture of you online and thought you were really cute so I came to find you!"

That, is what seems to shock everyone into paralysis.

You quickly flip yourself over, your back hitting the floor before running towards your exit. You can hear them all running after you, yet when you turn, the one that catches your attention is the scarlet ghost. His eyes are distant, yet they seem fixated entirely on you.

...

Your breath is heavy as you fall down your door, processing what just happened. How... How do you explain your friends disappearance? If anything... You'll be the first suspect.

What do you, what do you do, what do you??

The stress has you passing out on your floor, your whole body trembling in fear at the reality that you almost lost your life.

...

You shift in your covers, the alarm on your clock waking you up. Slowly, you lean up, your mattress creaking from the movement. A dream, a horrible dream... Your worried lift off from your chest at the prospect. It was so realistic-

The sight of a bloody camera and cracked phone makes your initial relief disappear.

"Man, I didn't realize how comfy beds were now...!" the voice has you look to your left a rotten moving corpse under your sheets with you, the heart-wounded monster smiling at your shock. The shift of a different zombie has you looking to your right, pale blue emerging from under the blankets.

"He made me sleep here, i'm so sorry-"

"I did not; you came in here on your own Deuce-!"

You jump out of your bed, your body hitting the wall as photos fall to the floor. "How... How...? How the hell-?!" You reach for a fork you had lying around on your desk, an unfortunately familiar large hand gently grabbing your wrist and guiding the utensil away from the zombies.

"Sorry, silver works better on vampires." A spark of electricity leaves him when he exchanges this fact, the shock barely caressing your skin. You leap at the sensation, metal sounding off the floor. The corpse complied of different flesh, smiles at you as if you were simply jumpy, not absolutely horrified.

Those exist too?!

The curtains to your room are closed, minimal light seeping through. It might be cause for your current predicament. You swear, as they talk to you, a pair of green irises stare you down, and right when you're about to direct attention to the entity, shadows wave you goodbye.

It's as if you've given up your drive when they watch you sit on the floor, blankly staring at their rose tyrant.

"Can you at least kill me painlessly before you eat me...?" They all stare at the sudden willingness you have for their hunger... Their shock subsides when they notice the way you have a far-away camera recording them. It's no worry to them though; it's not live.

Riddle's apparitional form floats forward, the first one to break the stalemate. You shut your eyes tight, sticking your arm out for him like he was a vampire rather than a ghost.

as long as someone, anyone really, finds the footage...

You can go out famous for your mysterious death!

"Don't be foolish." Riddles cold wispy hand suddenly solidifies, his warm palm taking your hand. "the only way to truly stop a rule-breakers transgressions, is to make sure they can never do them again." They're gonna kill you. They're gonna-

"We're staying right here." Wait, is he saying...

Are they gonna live with you!?

A/n: I was actually gonna do all the dorms for this but realized i need to stop doing long posts for really small stuff 😔

It's not clear, but all of them actually know who you are solely from the phone Riddle got Cater when he went out as a human. he found you and then showed you all to them, collectively agreeing you'd be a good meal.

Riddle thought you were pretty on sight, but knows it's in his best interest to stay rule-abiding and just stick to consuming you. It must be destiny, the influencer they've all been secretly crushing on watching, said they thought he was pretty.

Cue the rest of Modern! Monster Twst about a fake monster investigator and the very real monsters who start living with them solely out of affection <3

[spacelazarwolf]

yeah i almost included a bit abt how europe’s perception of jews and europe’s perception of roma through the centuries have been extremely similar bc we’re foreigners who refused to give up our cultures. the tropes we’re assigned are only different bc we have different origin stories and cultures, and then there’s the complication of christianity being obsessed with jews for religious reasons, but really at the end of the day both jews and roma were targeted because we were foreigners who wouldn’t just fade into european society. so i feel like that’s why it’s particularly cruel to tell jews and roma that we’re on the same level of societal privilege as the ppl who literally saw us as animals or wouldn’t give us basic human rights like??? idk it’s 3am but yeah.

schrodinger's jew: jews are and are not white until an antisemite makes up their mind about which type of antisemite they want to be.

[olderthannetfic]

I saw a long thread from an otome game yumeshipper asking westerners and gay shippers to respect eastern media by never tagging the characters of their gay art because it was disrespecting Asian culture and the gay shippers were colonizing this space made for het shippers. The hets hippers have the right not to see gay art in their pure character tag. To let your gay art get out there where het shippers can see it is entering someone else's space with your unwanted fanworks.

Then I remembered all the top/bottom discourse here and people asking westerners and vers shippers to respect eastern media by never tagging the characters of their gay art in the wrong order because it was disrespecting Asian culture and vers shippers were disrespecting a space for fixed shippers. The fixed shippers have the right not to see wrong positions in their pure ship tag. To let your vers or different position art get out there where fixed position shippers can see it is entering someone else's space with your unwanted fanworks.

Something clicked in my head. Two sides of the same coin, neither pleasant to interact with and neither realizing just how similar they are to each other in wishing people with other preferences didn't have the right to use public tags that are very much applicable to their art.

(Thread: https://x.com/ceeshells04/status/1885083676771483788, it reads almost exactly like how some fixed T/B asks read and I'm astonished that this is once again human nature to have things the way you and you alone want things)

--

[talonabraxas]

“Light unshared is darkness. To be light indeed, it must shine out. It is of the very essence of light, that it is for others.” — George MacDonald.

☩ Archangel Gabriel ☩ Talon Abraxas

The white angel light ray represents the purity and harmony that come from holiness. This ray is part of the metaphysical system of angel colors based on seven different light rays: blue, yellow, pink, white, green, red, and purple. Some people believe that the light waves of the seven angel colors vibrate at different electromagnetic energy frequencies in the universe, attracting the angels that have similar kinds of energy. Others believe that the colors are just fun ways of symbolizing the different types of missions that God sends angels on to ​help people. By thinking of angels who specialize in different types of work according to colors, people can focus their prayers according to what type of help they’re seeking from God and his angels.

Archangel

Gabriel, the archangel of revelation, is in charge of the white angel light ray. People sometimes ask for Gabriel’s help to: understand the messages that God is communicating to them so they can grow in holiness, clear away confusion and achieve the wisdom they need to make decisions, obtain the confidence they need to act on those decisions, communicate effectively to other people, and raise children well.

Crystals

Some of the different crystal gemstones associated with the white angel light ray are ruby, onyx, red garnet, jasper, and obsidian. Some people believe that the energy in these crystals can help people feel more confidence and courage, stand up for their convictions, and change negative attitudes and behaviors to positive ones.

Chakra

The white angel light ray corresponds to the root chakra, which is located at the base of the spine on the human body. Some people say that the spiritual energy from angels that flows into the body through the root chakra may help them physically (such as by helping them treat back conditions, nerve pain, and immune system conditions), mentally (such as by helping them develop more self-esteem and feel more secure in their relationships with other people), and spiritually (such as by helping them break free of materialism so they can shift their attention away from temporary things and toward holiness that has eternal value).

Strongest Day

The white angel light ray radiates most powerfully on Wednesday, some people believe, so they consider Wednesday to be the best day of the week to pray especially about situations that the white ray encompasses.

[thecircularsystem]

Let’s try this (a THIRD time ffs) during my 30 minute lunch:

Responding to this post, not linking because clearly this user didn’t wanna interact lol.

My response is going to be much briefer and less informative this time because I have spent way too long trying to write this, so let’s just bullet point it:

The terms CDD systems use (I’m assuming you mean parts, system, and alter) have been shared for over 40 years at this point. In reference to plurality, the Natural Multiplicity Movement (as flawed as it was) came from the CDD community. They were one and the same before the mass divide of non-disordered plurality breaking off. I’m not saying it was without its problems, obviously, but the terms have always been shared.

Moreover, these terms have been shared with IFS since its inception. Yet I don’t see anyone making a fuss about singlets calling themselves parts or systems. The terminology was taken directly from the idea of parts working together, just like the modern usage of system.

The original usage of the term “system” wasn’t even community based; from what I saw, it was more so focused on the neurological aspect of neural pathways working together. If you want to be salty about people misusing terms, the entire community is using system in a non-medical way at this point.

Endogenic systems did create their own terminology. CDD systems co-opted the language. Collective, plural, fictive, factive, and headmate, just off the top of my head, were all coined by pro/endo systems, and many of them coined explicitly to avoid more medicalized language. Then CDD systems began using it, and anti-endo systems even yelled at endogenic systems for then using their own terminology, such as plural and fictive. If we want to be upset about terminology being “stolen,” then be upset at anti-endos as well.

Using the same terminology does not mean someone is saying they’re exactly the same. An individual who says they experience intrusive thoughts is not saying they’re OCD. An individual saying they’re hyperfixated does not mean they’re saying they have autism. An individual saying they’re a system does not mean they’re saying they have a CDD. They can make a comparison — “my system is similar to a CDD system” even — without implying they’re one-to-one.

To connect to the previous point — I see myself as similar to my singlet partner. I see myself as similar to my endogenic friends. I use the same terminology I’ve seen used for those with ADHD. I am not a singlet, endogenic, or a pwADHD. Yet I can relate to those experiences to some degree! When did people start getting mad that humans can relate to each other? /genq

Lastly; I’m pretty sure I’m working with a different definition of gaslighting here. Gaslighting, afaik, is when a person in a position of (real or perceived) power over another convinces their victim that the factual truth of an event is false, causing them to question their perception of things. Endogenic systems do not hold any power over me? Them using system terminology isn’t them challenging my perception? Genuinely so confused how this would be considered gaslighting.

[unperson42]

So, one of the major inspirations for Coruscant (and the first version of the city-planet in sci-fi that I'm aware of) is the planet Trantor from Isaac Asimov's Foundation novels*. In one of the later books Asimov published, Prelude to Foundation, these exact sorts of cultural enclave become a major plot point.

If you don't know the books, a major element of the story is psychohistory, which is able to predict the future with a high degree of accuracy by extrapolating how human behaviour will effect political and social events to come. This science is invented by Hari Seldon, who is dead for most of the books, but tends to show up from time to time as a hologram. In Prelude, however, we see him as a young man, still trying to develop psychohistory.

Without going into the full plot of the book, Trantor ends up being the start of psychohistory. It turns out that a planet sized city has thousands of different ethnic and cultural groups, each explicitly shown to have their own enclave. Seldon makes a study of how these enclaves interact with each other, as well as the wider government of the Empire (different Empire than Palpatine's vanity project), and then treats that as a microcosm of the galaxy as a whole.

The reason I bring all this is up is that, given how heavily influenced Coruscant is by Trantor, I think it makes sense for Coruscant to have similar enclaves, and probably in similar numbers. In fact, they may even have people making similar studies of the different enclaves' interactions in order to better understand the disparate peoples of the Republic, and help maintain unity. I specify the Republic because this feels like the kind of thing the Empire would not care about, maintaining power through fear as they do. Tarkin Doctrine and all that.

I think Star Wars is a marvelously detailed fictional universe, but even the most detailed fiction can't cover everything. Where canon does not provide information, therefore, why not build a headcanon out of the inspirations?

* I assume all this is true of the current Apple TV series as well, but I havent seen it, so don't feel I can speak to it.

Coruscant has GOT to have different places like Ryl Town or Little Shilli or Space Harlem/Space SoHo and all that. Like they’re probably massive and stuff due to the size and population density of the planet but it’s still the same concept. Pockets of certain demographics or developing cultures…

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

do you think azul and sebek have any similarities?

Nothing really automatically jumps out to me in terms of similarities between them. However, there are definitely some to note. The Magical Archives state that Sebek's elegance is similar to Azul's--and, indeed, they both care a lot about grooming and how they present themselves. You could also say they are both ambitious and strictly manage their own health, albeit the difference is that Azul has more self-centered reasons whereas most of what Sebek does is in an effort to be at his best for Malleus.

Something else people may point to is that Azul seems to harbor shame surrounding his true form. He doesn't like to be seen in it and becomes flustered whenever his being an octopus is brought up (primarily by the twins). These complicated feelings could theoretically be likened to Sebek's internalized racism directed at the human half of his heritage.

[shadowonwater]

Every Instance I can find of Wild Kratt Bros Being Affected by Animal Instincts

I love it when they show animal instincts so here's a collection. If there's something I missed, let me know!

Season 1:

Bass Class (Martin as a bass kept getting attracted by fishing lures)

Tazzy Chris (This is THE instinct episode. Chris gets a suit malfunction that turns him into a T-Devil without a power disc. He's still himself but he keeps trying to eat rotten meat and growling)

The Blue and the Gray (squirrel Chris burying acorns)

Falcon City (Chris as a pigeon, trying to eat a random fry on the ground, preening his feathers, using the power of homing to get back, Martin as well also seemed to be briefly affected when first transforming and ate Jimmy's pizza. They were both also cooing like pigeons)

Cheetah Racer (Chris eating grass as a gazelle)

Flight of the Pollinators (when Martin was wearing that Bee Antenna Headband he was strongly attracted to the smell of flowers)

A Bat in the Brownies (when Chris and Martin entered the dead tree where the bats were they felt safe and secure and fell right asleep alongside the bats)

Maybe?:

Voyage of the Butterflier XT (this is a maybe. It's just I have no idea how they managed to hibernate with the butterflies they weren't even using power suits though)

Octopus Wildkratticus (not the bros but the octopus. I think it was being effected by animal instincts of the other animals)

The Food Chain Game (Chris tried eating grass as a gazelle again but found it gross, I think Aviva might have patched the gazelle disc after the last time)

Little Howler (all the howling, but considering the amount the brothers will howl while not transformed tells me that this is more just enjoying howling. Tell me none of y'all have howled like a wolf before)

Season 2:

Groundhog Wakeup Call (Aviva eating a bunch of grass and dandelions and then hibernating)

maybe?:

Termites Vs Tongues (Chris joining in with the termites defending themselves, could be seen as just helping out the creatures he's with)

Happy Turkey Day (the frequent gobbling like a turkey while transformed)

Rainforest Stew (not sure if the slowness of the sloth suit is instinct or if Chris physically can't move quickly in that)

Season 3:

The Hermit Crab Shell Exchange (the bros being scared as hermit crabs when they don't have shells, being extremely focused on finding a shell)

Opossum in my Pocket (Martin fainting aka "playing possum" when we was scared of Gourmand)

Chameleons on Target (blending in with background when scared, walking in the slow way that chameleons walk after first transforming, since they were able to control the tongues with concentration suggests that maybe it's not a malfunction but rather instinct?)

Maybe?:

Where the Bison Roam (Martin taking a bite out of a dirt and grass cake as a buffalo)

Season 4:

Stars of the Tides (Chris as a hermit crab getting nervous when he loses his shell)

Maybe?:

Panda Power Up! (Martin being very tired and hungry as a panda)

Season 5:

Maybe?:

Elephant Brains! (Chris being extra empathetic towards the elephants after transforming)

Season 6:

Deer Buckaroo (Martin trying to get the velvet off his antlers)

The Real Ant Farm (when first transforming into the different roles, Aviva, Chris, and Martin all mention feeling like doing the role of that specific ant)

Uh-Oh Ostrich (baby ostrich Chris following the mom ostrich)

Cats and Dogs (Martin doing the African Wild Dog warning call, he looks noticeably surprised when he first makes that sound)

Maybe?:

Adapto the Coyote (similar to Little Howler, the coyote howling may be less instinct and more humans having fun making animal noises)

[jesterkoops]

Two more thoughts I have after reading some takes:

First, there's a lot of talk of Helena "betraying" Mark/Helly by pretending to be Helly, but I think an element that will inevitably be coming up is o!Mark "betraying" Mark/Helly in a similar way? Just as Helena "stole" Helly from Mark (and Mark from Helly) the night they spent together, o!Mark will be "stealing" Mark from Helly (and Helly from i!Mark) the more he reintegrates and is no longer just i!Mark.

Granted, o!Mark had no clear idea of what was going on inside other than knowing his innie is "found love" with someone, so it's less questionable than Helena being completely aware of what's going on and inserting herself on purpose. But still, I feel that he is in some way imposing his desire to see his wife (and all the risks of reintegration) onto his innie with no consideration for how it might disrupt or destroy whatever life he has going on in there, or affect the people he knows in there. So is this really that much different from Helena imposing her desire to experience human intimacy and connection onto Helly, and onto Mark as a consequence? Sure, o!Mark might not think of his innie as "not a person" to the same extent Helena thinks of hers, but he still seems to think of him as a "lesser person", one that is just a tool for him to deal with his grief.

I feel like trying to find the good guy and the bad guy in this story quite a pointless endeavour that is beyond the point of the narrative, especially when it comes to trying to find "good' and 'bad' between 'innie' and 'outtie'. Because that's the whole point: the more "distance" you have from another person, the less you will tend to care about their life and feelings over your own or those of people closer to you. That happens IRL too, like... how many of us think of ourselves as "empathetic" and righteous but then buy stuff and consume things that are produced with violations of human rights, either unknowingly or because we don't care to check that much? Or if you had to choose between curing your mother or your child and an acquaintance or a complete stranger, which one would you choose? Are you the bad guy or the good guy in these situations? Neither. I think Severance just takes this kind of stuff to the nth degree because this "distance" is between different versions of the same person, rather than between different people.

I read different interpretations of the Kier lore regarding his twin and which one is supposed to be the innie and which one is supposed to be the outtie, which is the "real" Kier and which one isn't. Again, I think trying to identify which is which is missing the point. I think the point is precisely that you could look at it either way. The fact that we can’t tell who the innie is and who the outtie is, and who is “pure” and “impure” is the whole point. That that the line between identities (and therefore autonomy and goodness/badness) can become VERY blurred and messy and up to interpretation.

[evolutionsvoid]

It never fails to astound me the diversity that can develop within a family of flora or fauna. You think the common features they share would restrict them to a very similar formula, but how quickly you would be proven wrong! Harpies are one you would think stay pretty similar, and I once thought that as well! Learning about species like the Rahiruru challenged that notion a bit but it didn't seem too different. A harpy that lost its wings and bulked up, that isn't too radic-oh who am I kidding, yes that is a pretty big change. But my stubborn self kinda chalked that up to a fluke or simple luck. Stick anything on an island by itself for long enough and yes it is going to be very different. But once I learned about the Inmyeonjo, I finally had to concede defeat.

Like I stated before, the Inmyeonjo is a member of the harpy family, though it could be a bit hard to see the connection. The only real clue you get is their human-like face, but the rest of the body is quite different from your common harpy. First off, they are TALL! Long legs, long body and a real long neck! Their anatomy feels more fitting for a crane than a harpy! Then you notice the striking black and white feathers. It is similar color to the yuki-onna, but with how different the two's anatomy is, I am positive you won't be mistaking them! Not only is it sheer height, but the Inmyeonjo also has really long feathers, with the biggest tell being the single trailing feather on their head. It adds quite the regal look to them I must say!

The Inmyeonjo tends to live around alpine ecosystems and in the forests that surround mountains. They are omnivorous in diet, typically eating nuts, berries, and small animals. Their towering bodies help them spot prey with ease, and strong legs can pin them down to be eaten. Despite their size, they can fly, it just so happens that they spend a lot of their time on the ground. Seeing an Inmyeonjo in flight is uncommon, only really taking to the air when fleeing from predators or heading up the mountain to lay their eggs. Their size and talons are used to ward off attackers, and like I said, they will fly off if that isn't enough.

During the breeding season, male Inmyeonjo will woo the females through dance. Their act consists of a lot of strutting, head bobs and wing spreads. These dances occur in the open areas around the mountain, where it is easy for the ladies to see the performance. If things are looking good, the female Inmyeonjo will join in on the dance, and the two will seal this relationship through their dual act. They will fly up to the mountain and find a place to build a nest for their eggs. Inmyeonjo nest up there to cut down on the amount of predators that may threaten their young. However, with the weather and cold, it makes it more imperative that one of the parents is always sitting on the nest. They will switch off duty from time to time, but they will not leave this spot unattended until the young develop the proper feathers to withstand the temperatures.

For the locals of the regions where the Inmyeonjo lives, these birds are beloved and sacred. They are seen as creatures of royalty, symbolizing elegance and wisdom. For some, they may be messengers from the gods, while others see them as the emperors of all other birds. Wealthy estates and imperial gardens feel that an Inmyeonjo on their property is a must have, as these animals are practically status symbols. Due to their popularity with royalty, there have been breeds of them that are more familiar with humans and other folk. They are not quite domesticated, but comfortable enough with the presence of others that it isn't too far off. Which means if you ever have the chance to visit these gardens, you may actually have an encounter with a curious Inmyeonjo. Though their size may be intimidating, they are usually very friendly and are looking for attention or food. Worst case scenario, they may like a trinket you are carrying on your person and try to nab it. Keep such shiny baubles hidden away, as you will have a hard time keeping one of these birds from stealing it if they like it. And since they are royalty, you can't do a thing about! Ha, I guess they truly fit the bill! But that's just a joke, because I would never want to insult such gorgeous and graceful birds! And tall too! Out of the harpy species, the Inmyeonjo is absolutely my favorite!

Chlora Myron

Dryad Natural Historian

[adriberry]

The Meta of Magic in Twst

I apologize dearly for the more concentrated amount of Twisted Wonderland posts today, but I just have a lot of thoughts and feelings after my sister recently got back into the game and we've talked a bit about the story.

It's been hard to organize my thoughts on what I believe is the true origin of magic in Twisted Wonderland. I've wrote a lot of notes about it myself, mostly to use in fanfiction. I'm especially concerned with just how the characters we know as villains in our world are regarded as savors in Twisted Wonderland and why characters like Silver, Rook, and Kalim have golden, glittery cosmic magic while all other characters at NRC have purple, inky cosmic magic. The recent canon origins of magic as told by Lilia to Silver in Book 7 have confirmed some of my theories, so I want to structure my thoughts around that and will probably do so in multiple parts.

I'm sorry if you want to keep spoiler free, but this theory hinges on a few lines of dialogue in a portion of Book 7 which was recently released on JP server.

The Wish

Silver said Lilia once told him that the origin of magic came from a wish- a deep desire to change the world.

Yes, it's cheesy the way Disney things usually are. No, I don't think this is a direct reference to Disney's recent movie Wish (which really is a bunch of Disney animation references, concepts, and themes in a trench coat trying to convince the public it's its own solid Disney Movie, but that's it's own post).

Since the very first Disney animated movie, Snow White and the Seven Dwarves, characters have been singing about wishes and dreams and their deepest desires. Throughout the 100 years of the company's lifespan, it's been touting that dreams are possible if you believe. Disney characters wish on stars and in wells and while belting to no one in particular but the horizon. Disney characters wistfully describe great loves and adventures that they have in their dreams that they chase to make reality. Dreams and wishes are the main theme of every Disney story, so it only makes sense for those to be the strongest themes of Twisted Wonderland.

I've already had a theory that Twisted Wonderland would follow a similar storyline to Fantasmic, so if you'd like to see my take on why the dream hopping in Book 7 is so appropriate now, you can go read the other post. But wishes are a different thing entirely.

There are 3 NRC students whose cosmic magic always got me thinking: Silver, Kalim, and Rook. Most characters' cosmic magic is purple with black specks in it. For these three, their magic is glittering gold. At first my reaction was, "Oh, cute. It's because they're not based on villains!" but this is Yana Toboso we're talking about. She does most things (save for too similar designs for faces) with a reason behind it. And fans have already picked up on a different pattern where Silver, Kalim, and Rook match the knight, pawn, and rook pieces on the chessboard in Leona's room respectively. Why are these characters singled out? Why are there visual differences between their mechanics and the other characters?

On Magic...

Well, I do think it has to do with the fact that they aren't based on villains but it's less of an aesthetic choice than I first thought. These twst characters are based on Disney characters who put faith in others, trust their hearts, and do what's right for no other reason than it's what should be done. And Silver, Kalim, and Rook all do the same. Rook lives authentically even though he spent so much time hiding his true self. Kalim loves Jamil despite the fact Jamil tried to kill him. Silver wants to end the generations long tensions between humans and fairies. They aren't exactly self serving and, though I love all the NRC boys very much, the rest kind of are. Crowley says as much in the Prologue when he praises MC for being able to get Night Raven students to work together for once.

So I think there are two kinds of magic which stem from the idea of "the wish." There is light magic which depends on what's essentially faith, trust, and pixie dust, and there is blot.

We're introduced to magic for the first time via Crowley. Crowley is revealed to be unreliable very quickly as he obviously is taking his sweet time trying to figure out how to get MC home if he really is at all. Based on fan theories and evidence in the text, he might actually be hiding his true identity from us. But in we don't have any of that information in Book 2 when Crowley talks about overblot, so we trust him when he shows us how blot works.

Crowley claims blot generates when using magic. The magestones Ace, Deuce, and Grim are newly given turn dark as they do a bit of magic for themselves. Crowley explains that those with a lot of magical potential need to be careful not to use too much magic or else it'll have negative effects, much like Riddle in Book 1. According to Crowley, overblot happens when you overuse magic.

But Book 2 has a contradiction in it: Ruggie is doing all the magic heavy lifting. He's constantly using his Ultimate Magic to act out Leona's plan. He uses a potion to triple his power and creates a massive stampede of people with magic, but who is the character who overblots later on? Leona- who doesn't use any of his magic until just before he overblots. He doesn't use magic, but he is brought to the brink of desperation and reminded of all his fears and insecurities.

The Blot

Crowley told us too much magic at once causes overblot, but we've seen seven times now how that's not actually the case. Each overblotter was brought to the brink. They were desperate, scared, anxious, isolated- these negative emotions brought them to overblotting. And though their lives were at risk, each overblotter was at their most powerful in the midst of it.

In each case, the person in question was close to achieving their ultimate goals. Riddle wanted perfection and order. Leona wanted to finally be worthy of a win at any cost. Azul wanted power over others because he had been isolated in the past. Jamil wanted freedom and to make his achievements known. Vil wanted real recognition. Idia didn't want to feel lonely again. Malleus wanted to keep his family together. In the moments before they overblot, their dreams are snatched away from them. In desperation, they have nothing else to lose.

Using blot doesn't necessarily lead to overblot, but increases the risk. It puts the user in a position where they're more vulnerable to fears and depression. It's why Crowley's advice for clearing blot in a magestone is just to rest, eat well, and take care of yourself- all ways to self care when you're mentally unwell.

To use light magic- the magic of the wish and the dream- is to put trust in others and to use joy and positivity and hope to achieve your goals. Using blot to the point of overblot is giving into desperation and fear and isolation.

And that is why Silver, Kalim, and Rook are the chess pieces: they- or their magic rather- are the key to defeating Malleus. The day will be saved by hope and joy and friendship. It's so very "my friends are my power" and so very cliche Disney and I can't wait to read up to the very end.