#it lies in watching it all happen to myself but not wanting to commit to stopping it

[desire-mona]

the time jumps in i saw the tv glow make me so fucking insane and i can never let it go. 2 years, 8 years, then 20, each jump taking more and more out of owen as we watch him decay into a painstakingly unvariable excuse of a protagonist. no matter how big of a jump in time, we never really feel like we've missed out on anything at all. the only real change we experience is what monotonous, yet colourfully and visually overstimulating job he's trudging through, all to live the unfulfilling life he feels is the most safe. no known ambitions, no known lasting relationships, even the family he says he loves more than anything feels less like a feat, and more like a giant step back in the journey we know he needs to go on.

3 decades pass in the span of an hour and 40 minutes, a speed that would seem overwhelmingly fast, yet we stay tuned into the comfortability of that perpetual survival. we know what's going on, and we dont need to play catch up if there's nothing to catch up on. yet despite that comfortability of knowing where and when owen's stuck, it is killing us to know that the potential of what he could be and experience goes unacknowledged through the painstaking amount of years. and it's made all that much worse when we're forced to remember that the slow death we're watching is all the more real, both literally and figuratively, to owen.

[kabsey]

Why am I suddenly obsessed with the idea of a forgiven Illario being gravely wounded in the last battle?

Like he stumbles his way back to where the Crows have gathered, covered in blood and grime and gore, and he wants to cry with relief when Teia rushes to his side. She has to hold up almost all of his weight as she leads him to one of the few empty cots left in their field hospital. And then she leaves him and he wants to cry again, near delirious with pain and blood loss and an all-consuming dread that his end is waiting, just out of sight, to swallow him whole.

The minutes trickle by, and as he lies there, surrounded by the moans of the other dying and gasping for breath that can barely squeeze through the agony, he starts to think that maybe this was how it was always meant to happen. That maybe he was destined to die alone and unmourned, just another body on a mass pyre. When he begins to fade in and out of consciousness, he's grateful because he's no longer aware of every second counting down until his last.

In one brief flicker, he hears voices above him, muffled and far away as if he's underwater.

"—wasn't like this when I left him, I swear, Lucanis."

"Get a healer. Now."

-------

In the next, he's fairly sure he's still dreaming because he's wrapped in a blanket and curled in a wheelbarrow of all things being pushed by a qunari of all people.

-------

When he wakes again, he barely notices because the room he's in is so dark. He's lying on a soft bed, and a black silhouette watches him from the shadows just outside the circle of banked firelight.

"Lucanis?" he croaks. Every inch of his skin feels soaked through with cold sweat, but his throat is so, so dry.

The silhouette leans forward to reveal a pointed beard and a pointed gaze that had always seemed to accuse him, even before he had committed any of his crimes.

Illario sighs, too tired now to feel the panic of before. "Here to... finish me off?"

He's already drifting when Viago answers.

"If I were here to kill you, you wouldn't have woken up."

-------

The next time he opens his eyes, pale grey light fills the room, filtered through gauzy curtains. Both he and the world feel more solid. He's not in his own suite in the villa but a smaller room in the guest wing. And the man sitting at his bedside is, as ever, the person he most and least wants to see in the world.

"You're going to live," Lucanis states, and his voice and his expression hold no clue as to how he feels about that.

A huff of wry laughter escapes Illario. "My apologies."

That prompts the tiniest of furrows in his cousin's brow. "Why were you there? No one expected you." The furrow deepens. "Were you even fighting for our side?"

The jibe should sting, but Illario feels as if all of the aches and weariness from every moment of his life have settled deep into his bones. "I killed Venatori. Even a few darkspawn."

"So you betrayed your allies again?" Lucanis sighs. His exhaustion is clear in the slump of his shoulders and the circles beneath his eyes.

"The Venatori were never my allies."

Lucanis straightens at that, showing a little of the fire that Illario had always wished he would. "You were going to let them into Trevsio."

"I wasn't going to let them stay. After they pushed out the Antaam and protected us from the gods, we could have gotten rid of them."

"And the blood magic?" Lucanis accused.

"I needed to be able to defend myself."

"From me?" his cousin demanded, a spark of violet flickering in his eyes. "Or your Venatori lover?"

Illario lets his eyes fall closed. "She was just a tool. They were all just tools."

"That's all you see, isn't it? You look at the world, and instead of people, you see only tools to be used."

"Of course," Illario agrees. He opens his eyes and almost laughs to see the look of surprise on Lucanis's face. "Just as we were taught, no? Even we were only tools to Caterina."

He settles deeper into the pillows, the pull of sleep tugging his eyelids down again. "But maybe being the favorite tool was almost like being human."

For a few long moments, only the crackling in the fireplace answers him. He expects to hear the creak of the chair and Lucanis's fading footsteps at any moment.

Instead he hears a quiet murmur. "It wasn't."

The low tone is a hook in Illario's heart. Even decades later, he can hear the echoes of shared secrets in the nights after hard days, when he would sneak into Lucanis's room and curl up on his floor so they could commiserate in their mutual misery. He struggles to breathe around the tears that prick his eyelids and tighten his throat, the effort just as wrenching as trying to breathe through the pain of his wound.

And he thinks then that he has not learned his lesson, that maybe he will never learn his lesson. Because if some power alighted in that room and promised to send him back to those years, even if it meant that Thedas would suffer blight and war and demons and elvhen gods all over again with no guarantee of a repeated victory...

He wouldn't hesitate for a moment.

[pascaloverx]

Moonlight

Summary: You and Edward Cullen used to have a romantic relationship. But fate seemed not to believe in the possibility of a vampire and a potential she-wolf being together. Years after your separation, you return to Forks. Edward is committed to Bella Swan, and Jacob Black has his own pack. What happens when, upon your return, you begin to transform into a she-wolf and both Edward and Jacob seem eager to revisit the past with you?

Author's Note: GUESS WHO'S BACK? For those who wanted a second part, I suggest you interact with this chapter. The characters in this fanfic do not belong to me but to Stephenie Meyer and the Twilight universe. The story blends events that happened in the Twilight saga movies with invented ones. If you're enjoying the fanfic, please interact. This story will contain inappropriate language, explicit content and violence.

FINAL

THIRTEEN

Jace is asleep in his car seat in the back. He’s a calm baby, especially while in the car. The journey to Forks is long, particularly when you're driving alone. Jacob went ahead to take your things to his house. You’re afraid of what lies ahead, but you need Seth to tell you what happened to him. Night is nearly upon you when you finally begin to approach your destination, sensing that this journey will bring only challenges.

Jace wakes, whining loudly for you to feed him. Like his father, he sometimes feeds on blood, while at other times, he drinks milk like any other baby. You pull over on the side of the road to tend to him. In a thermal bag, a bottle filled with meticulously stored blood awaits your little heir.

At times, you wonder how difficult it will be when he grows older, forced to adapt to life as a hybrid without any examples to guide him in handling his vampire side. But the alternative—allowing Edward to discover that you gave birth to a child he never wanted, a child born from a love that no longer exists—is unthinkable. At least, that is what you tell yourself.

Gently, you lift Jace from his car seat, cradling him in your arms before offering him the bottle. He eagerly drinks, gripping it with surprising strength for his size.

A noise from the surrounding forest startles you, putting you on high alert. Jace finishes his bottle, his hunger sated, and offers you a small, contented smile. You quickly tuck the empty bottle away and secure your son back in his seat.

"So, you are the woman who lingers in Edward Cullen’s thoughts?" A voice speaks from a short distance away, startling you. You turn to see a vampire standing near your car. Instinctively, you shut the back door, ensuring your baby is safe, then fix your gaze on the stranger.

"Forgive me, but I do not believe we have met, nor do I understand your inquiry," you reply, your tone guarded. Something tells you to remain on high alert. For your son, you would do anything.

"I have not introduced myself, but for now, all you need to know is that the Volturi are watching you. There is a suspicion that the child you bore is more than a mere wolf, and we will be investigating further. Tell Edward that the Volturi have their eyes on him," the vampire says, his elegant attire and regal demeanor exuding an air of superiority as he studies you, as if attempting to unravel your secrets. With a slight bow, he disappears into the night.

Immediately, you rush to your car and start the engine. However, another vampire appears in front of it—this one muscular and terrifying. He places his hands on the hood, preventing you from driving forward. The situation unsettles Jace, who begins to cry, his little face scrunching up in distress. Your patience is gone.

"Jace, my love, mommy will take care of this and be right back," you say, turning to the back seat. You place his pacifier in his mouth and hand him his favorite stuffed animal. Then, you carefully put the noise-canceling headphones over his ears—the ones you recently bought. He clutches his toy, sucking on the pacifier as he gradually calms down. Unbuckling your seatbelt, you step out of the car, heading straight for the vampire.

"You vampires are ruining what was supposed to be a peaceful mother-and-child trip," you say loudly, preparing to shift into your wolf form.

"Victoria sends her regards," the vampire sneers, flashing his fangs at you. He is going to attack. Without hesitation, you charge at him, transforming mid-stride and slashing at him with one of your claws.

"You shouldn’t have done that," he growls, grabbing your wolf body with brutal force, attempting to break something.

The pain is sharp, but you thrash violently, your mind filled with the only thought that matters—who you are protecting. With a final surge of strength, you sink your teeth into his arm and tear it off, freeing yourself at last. The vampire looks enraged as he charges toward you at full force. Pain surges through your body, but you remain firm, bracing for the next attack. He throws a punch at your snout, but you anticipate it, and despite the pain, you sink your teeth deep into his flesh and shake him violently, tearing him apart.

With vampire blood staining your mouth, you rise in human form, intending to return to the car—only to see another vampire approaching your son. There is no time to react.

Before you can move, Edward appears behind the vampire and swiftly rips off his head. It is strange that your reunion happens like this—you, standing naked, while he protects your child. His child. Your car is splattered with blood, but your baby is safe.

"Are you all right?" Edward asks, noticing the difficulty with which you move, the wounds inflicted by the muscular vampire taking their toll.

"I could be better, but thank you for protecting my boy," you say, feeling a wave of embarrassment wash over you. You are truly grateful, but guilt gnaws at you. His son is right there, and he doesn’t even know.

"Do you need help?" Edward offers, watching you struggle to retrieve your emergency change of clothes from the car. For some reason, Jace starts crying as soon as Edward gets closer to you.

"Could you hold him? He won’t stop crying unless he’s rocked, and I need to get dressed," you suggest in a quiet voice. Under normal circumstances, you would never ask Edward to hold Jace, but as a mother, your child’s well-being comes before any discomfort or unresolved issues.

Edward nods silently, opening the car door and gently lifting Jace from his seat. Somehow, Jace has pulled off his noise-canceling headphones but still clutches his stuffed animal. Edward cradles him, soothing him with a soft hum. Taking advantage of the moment, you quickly dress, regaining some composure. A sharp sting reminds you of the wound on your abdomen from the fight.

"He looks like you," Edward murmurs while rocking Jace with careful tenderness.

"I always thought he looked more like his father. But Jacob says he resembles me, too," you reply, fastening the last piece of clothing.

"He is beautiful," Edward murmurs as Jace uses his tiny hands to caress Edward’s face, his fingers quickly brushing against Edward’s sharp canines. Edward bares his fangs playfully, and Jace, utterly delighted, bursts into laughter. He has clearly taken a liking to Edward, even without knowing that he is his father. Jace giggles as Edward holds him securely, growing accustomed to the weight of the baby in his arms.

"You and Jacob have built a lovely family," Edward says as Jace finally pulls his little fingers away from his mouth. How you wish you could tell the man before you that this family was supposed to be his. But you shake your head, pushing away any sentimentality, and step forward to take your son from Edward’s arms.

"Thank you for your help. I don’t even know how you knew we needed it," you say, cradling Jace close and seizing the opportunity to change the subject.

"Alice saw that a vampire with ill intentions would be here looking for you," Edward says while holding Jace’s tiny hand, playfully entertaining him. Jace bites Edward’s finger, using it to soothe his aching gums as his teeth threaten to emerge.

"Thank her for me," you reply, pressing a gentle kiss to Jace’s forehead as you rock him in your arms.

"Would you have told me you were back if not for this?" Edward asks, his tone more serious now as he meets your gaze. And just like that, you are back where you left off before you left Forks.

"It’s not as if we had anything to say. It’s been over a year since we ended things—nothing more courteous than staying out of each other’s way," you say, noticing how Jace watches your conversation with quiet curiosity.

"You could never be an inconvenience to me," Edward murmurs, catching you off guard. "You’re the reason my life has meaning." There is a weight in his voice, a sadness that suggests this time apart has been anything but easy for him.

"We were a mistake for each other, Edward," you say, stepping away while still holding your son as if clinging to a lie. And in truth, that is what it is—because Jace is the greatest right in your life, and he is the result of what you once had with Edward.

"The best mistake we could have ever made was staying together, Y/N," Edward counters, reaching out to touch your face as he steps closer. His touch stirs memories—of the happiness you once shared, of the wedding that never happened, of everything that made you love him.

"I don’t recall you saying that when I was forced to stand by my pack instead of marrying you," you reply bitterly, stepping back from him, unwilling to dwell on the past that still haunts you. You turn and place Jace in his car seat, deciding it is best for him to be shielded from the complicated nature of his parents.

"I wasn’t in the right frame of mind when that happened," Edward admits, his voice low with regret. "But you need to know that since you left, I’ve been miserable. My mind isn’t whole without you."

He moves closer as you shut the car door, his hands finding your neck, his lips just a breath away. Your back presses against the car, his presence overwhelming. It feels like a dream, like something that should have had a different ending.

"I can’t allow myself to live in our chaos anymore, Cullen," you say, taking his hands in yours and gently pulling them away. "I am a mother now. My son deserves a life free of turmoil. I’m grateful for your help, and for the way you treated Jace, but there is no future for us." Edward seems to finally accept the truth, his expression shifting as if reality has settled over him like a heavy weight.

"I’ll respect your decision," he murmurs. "But if you ever need me when it comes to your son, I’ll always be here." His gaze shifts to Jace, watching him play with his tiny fingers inside the car.

"You need to be careful," you warn. "These vampires came after me because of Victoria, and before them, some pompous vampire mentioned that the Volturi are either watching you or looking for you. If things with the wolves are already tense, having the Volturi on your trail is even more dangerous." Edward smiles at your concern, then straightens and leans in, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead.

"God, how I’ve missed you," he whispers as he pulls away. And then, when you open your eyes again, he is gone—no farewell, no final words. But you know this won’t be the last time you see him. With a quiet sigh, you return to the car, resuming your drive to the Black's house.

[balkanradfem]

How I quit religion

Parts of this story are dark (religious abuse, suicidal ideologies), and I am going to leave some things out to prevent any identifying information.

I was born in a place of religious women, and m*n who also belonged to the religion, but had none of the obligations or pressure to practice it, and nobody judged them for what they did. As a female child, it was mandated that I be in church every Sunday, or even multiple times a week if there was a special mass, I had to confess my sins regularly, attend religious classes, go trough religious ceremonies and practice catholic holidays. I didn't question it much at the start, because everyone was doing it; though males did way less. The church was filled with women, everyone was attending those classes and ceremonies, everyone believed in what the Bible was saying. But I had an additional problem with religion, that I couldn't tell if everyone else also had going on, or if it was just me.

I had a family member, who was not mentally healthy, and liked to use religion to gain control of other family members. 'God's watching you, he will get you for this, you will burn in hell forever for this, you'll get yours' were phrases commonly thrown at me during my childhood, and I started to get a sense, that I was in fact, constantly watched. I would become so self conscious I couldn't be alone in my room without the sense of being monitored, judged, and having someone plan a punishment for anything that could be perceived as wrong.

This will get worse over time!

One thing about me that nobody liked or approved of, was my deep belief that I knew better than anyone else, so I kept my opinions to myself. But listening to what god did in my religious classes, I felt like he went very wrong with how he was getting things done. Making people then putting one tree in front of them and telling them not to taste that? Rookie mistake. Don't put the tree there if you don't want them to eat that. Why was that so hard for him to figure out?

I also felt a lot of disdain towards 'drowning all people because people were bad', because I knew not all people were bad, and this god just didn't feel like picking out who was good and who was bad, and drowned everyone but one guy and his wife. This god was lazy! I had my own ideas about how I would handle that situation and it was not a genocide. So of course I felt my methods were superior.

Things we learned in our religious classes also helped me get more critical; we started learning about religious wars, and I was affronted by this; I was anti war. Having a war in the name of religion felt like two opposing things that should not overlap; religion was supposed to bring peace, help the poor, help people be good. Why was it committing mass murder? At one point we learned about catholics putting small kids on the front lines of a battle, hoping the enemies would show mercy and not attack the children, but the result was that all kids were killed. This was my turning point. I was looking at the preacher in disbelief, was I still supposed to support this religion if these were the foundations? They put their kid's lives on the lines instead of their own? Despicable, gross and disgusting behaviour. I wouldn't stand for this. But everyone else in class was apathetic and non-reactive, I was the only one mad and upset about the situation.

The preacher also decided to tell us later on that the story of Adam and Eve was made up, and that we now actually agree with evolution theory, and as much as I appreciated having the human evolution explained to me, I would not forget that they lied to us. If they could lie to us about Adam and Eve, what else was fake? What else was just a made up story?

I started to think that everyone around me was just pretending to believe all this, because it stopped making sense. If god did exist, why were horrible things happening constantly, to good people? Why was I being told to fear god and expect judgment and punishment if he was supposed to love me? I couldn't make sense of it, but I also didn't yet completely stop believing, because it felt weird that everyone else still did. It was still very much expected of me to believe, and felt like a too big of a step to take, to single myself out from the entire community, family and surroundings, by deciding I'm just not into this anymore. It takes a big push for a person to do that.

But I had that push. If you remember a family member who liked to convince me that god is after me and going to get me, this got way worse when I was in my early teenage years. The threats and the fear-mongering now turned into full blown out screaming about how I would burn in hell forever, and this went on for hours, sometimes multiple times a week. And I was just a girl, susceptible to what I was being told, or screamed at, and eventually I started thinking it's true. I was holding beliefs against god, and I guessed that for thinking that I was smarter, could do better, I was being offensive and sinful. I couldn't think of anything worse that I'd done to deserve eternal damnation, but from how often I was being being threatened with it, I couldn't fight the idea with a clear mind anymore. I became convinced that regardless of what I do for the rest of my life, even if I spent every moment being kind and good and nice to everyone, I would still burn in hell, just for my secret inner thoughts.

This made living difficult for me.

Things stopped making sense. Why was I trying so hard to be kind if at the end, I would just be burned forever? If this punishment is coming for me anyway, wouldn't it be better if I just go now, instead of anticipating it all my life? What is the point of even being alive, if I can never redeem myself, if I can never do anything to change what the ending would be? I lost my will to live because all I could see is the hell awaiting for me, and I would be devoured by it no matter what. It felt hopeless.

Unless, if it wasn't real.

Unless I was being suicidal over something made up, and there was no hell. No heaven. No god. No nothing. What if I was being tortured by empty tales? Could I decide that hell didn't exist? Could I stop my spiraling just by deciding none of this is real, and that I don't need to fear eternal damnation because it was made up?

And so I did just that. It took me a week to analyze the entire premise of christianity – god made us, now he judges us, but still allows whatever to happen, only punishes bad people later – it made no sense. Because god doesn't need to do any of that, in the original premise he is all-powerful, he can make thousands of worlds and not care at all, why would he be preoccupied with actions of individual people? If he was involved, then why would he let people like my family member, use his name to threaten others? If he's all powerful why would he care about what people do at all? He doesn't need people. We're no use to him.

But people need god. They need to believe there's some higher force who will be there when they need something to go their way, who would make things okay for them, who would bend chance and fate to protect them from random disasters, who would punish everyone that was cruel to them. They needed god to make the world safe and just. And also, I felt, for mass control of people's behaviour. Hell is a big threat of punishment if you don't follow the rules, and how else can you make people follow rules except with a threat like that?

But I didn't need to be threatened. Kindness came naturally to me. I wouldn't hurt people regardless of eternal punishment. I could opt out and still be a positive force in the world.

And so I quit. I remember still giving it the slightest chance when I had my last religious ceremony at the age of 16; I said okay last chance, god, if you're real, give me any kind of sign by the time this ceremony is over, anything I will notice, it can be anything. I'm paying attention.

The ceremony was over rapidly. No sign whatsoever. I remember standing there in the church afterwards, in my weird religious outfit, with complete certainty then. Yep, I thought so. I'm alone from here on.

I was a practical girlie. What's the point of god if you can't count on him to do one thing.

I had to tell my friend I didn't believe in god anymore; she was scandalized, and thought I was lying. She would accept it a few years down the line. I had to tell my religious teacher in high school, and I tried to explain myself and said: 'I just started thinking it trough—'

'You started doubting.' She cut me off.

I looked back at her astounded. I knew I was being chastised for my doubt, but if something would fall apart the second you had a doubtful thought about it, wasn't it obviously fake and worthless? I couldn't understand how she could keep believing in something while knowing that a single critical thought would tear it into pieces. I started losing respect for her intelligence. Cultural pressure went over my head in that one.

I never went to church again, and the local priest was offended; he came to our house and confronted me about it, and I just said 'no I don't believe in your religion', and he came down at me with 'you'll never be allowed to marry in church' and I shrugged my shoulders and said 'fine'. He was not expecting that, and then told me I need to come tomorrow and sign a document saying that I will never be getting married in a church, and I again shrugged and said 'fine'. But I didn't go, I was offended that he thought I should be doing his work for him, and I certainly would not step a foot into a church. Ew.

I was also offended that he stopped me in the middle of carrying laundry up to dry just to confront me about his nonsense, can you imagine standing in a way of a woman carrying out a task? I thought it was sinful behaviour. Doesn't that go against religion? And why did he think that banning me from marriage was a functional threat, was I supposed to care about marriage? I've seen marriages and wanted no part of that. I didn't yet understand that young women were groomed to believe they were only good for marriage; I wasn't yet aware that it didn't work on me because I was a lesbian so a marriage to a male was a bigger threat than anything that guy could say to me.

That's another reason I was incompatible with religion; I immediately gave myself the permission to judge the priest. Holy authority meant nothing to me. Even as a child I was passing judgment on god. I knew better. The priest was just some guy who believed in nonsense. My family was disgusted with my behaviour. I could not have cared less.

I had, during my young adulthood, researched all other religions and read countless spiritual books, to see what the difference was, and if anything clicked. I was shocked to find out that all major religions of the world had the almost exact same story, same beliefs, just different practices; I couldn't understand why they all had beef with each other then.

I became engaged in spirituality. For a while I was trying to see auras, meditating regularly, communicating with angels and ghosts and spirits, until I realized all of that was bad for my mental health, so I quit spirituality as well. In the heart of every spiritual movement was intense victim blaming, and every time I would find it deep and hidden inside the books, I would lose heart and get more mentally ill. I was also scared I would get recruited into a cult and stayed away from other 'spiritual' people, I could tell I was vulnerable to it and that I have to clock and block every woowoo person I see. Most people writing spiritual books are doing it indoctrinate readers in their personal cult and I could tell by then.

I had to figure it out for my own, without looking for answers in a book.

Years later, I would finally read my first feminist analysis of religion, to find out that not only it's deeply oppressive but also massively sexist and homophobic. My resolve to keep away from it only steeled up with every new information I got, especially the latest one, finding out that in my area catholic religion allowed people to enslave people of other religion. Excuse me? It also enraged me to find out we used to have a pagan tradition, protecting nature and holding it sacred, only to have it obliterated and nature recontextualized to resources we can just exploit for money, causing destruction and global warming. Religion is about lying to gain control and getting away with crimes against women and environment. They were not only vital in the oppression of women, but the destruction of the environment as well. I live here! I am a woman! How dare you.

Learning about the lost culture of paganisam made me sad. Apparently we had big statues of gods and goddesses of nature in forests, and the religious freaks destroyed them all. I would have loved to stumble on a statue of a goddess while wandering trough the forest, and to know that she is keeping the trees and the mushrooms safe. Our pagan origin story was not as sexist as the christian one; in our version we had both a male god and a female goddess; they made people out of different types of trees, women from linden, males from oak trees. The trees became sacred and we cultivated so many, there's still plentiful of both oaks and lindens everywhere, in every village and city. Isn't that a good spiritual practice, planting trees? It makes sense to me.

I don't believe that in the times of paganism there was no sexism; I'm sure some awful shit was going down, and that women suffered due to it. So I'm not trying to go back, or revive the practice, but I do like celebrations of natural cycles and sunlight and holding the soil sacred. Those are compatible with human life. I found nothing on this world worth worshiping as much as women, trees and sources of water. These are life-giving and invaluable. So I will stick to that. It feels right.

[diamondkat]

I recently saw someone make an argument that Sinners deserved to have genocide committed against them because they are all rapists and murderers while getting upset at Charlie for trying to redeem these rapists and murderers to heaven where their victims are. I have always found this argument weird because even if they are all rapists and murderers, they are already basically in prison. Why do you think it is right for someone already facing a life sentence to have to deal with people regularly coming into the prison to indiscriminately kill them? They had already been kept separately from heaven. Charlie would not have felt the need to redeem them to heaven if heaven had not been committing genocide every year.

That's before we even get to the fact that everyone in hell are not there for being rapists and murderers. Living in hell might make you have to pick up some skills at murder but that doesn't mean that everyone in hell either committed murder or rape. Hell is basically an open-air prison and like most prisons where nothing is being done to rehabilitate or even watch over the prisoners, the worse people gain power over the other prisoners. Prisoners who come in for relatively minor offences become worse people than they were when they arrived to survive.

Under Christianity, things that can send you hell range from murder to telling lies to not being charitable. If we decide to go with Hazbin being only closely based on Christianity, then there is the fact that Hell in Hazbin is like a prison and just like a prison, murder and rape aren't the only reason people end up there. There are also thieves, arsonists, embezzlers, liars, and so on. Crimes range from severe to minor. However, they always throw rape and murder out as if they are the only things that could send a person to hell because those are the worst crimes they can think of that they feel validate committing genocide on people already serving an eternal sentence. This is before you even consider that there are child sinners in hell.

There are child sinners in the cannibal colony. We know that the cannibals are sinners because the exorcist killing them did not break the agreement with heaven and the playbill states that most of them were part of a colony that died in the 1910s. These children ended up in hell with the rest of their families because they partook in cannibalism. It didn't matter that why they did it or that they were children. Cannibalism was enough to send them to hell. If children can be sent to hell, then I doubt that rape and murder are the only things that people go to hell for. For those who might want to complain that this makes heaven look bad. I don't know how to break it to you that the system being flawed is one of the central themes of the story.

I can understand liking a character that commits genocide. I have a few genocidal/omnicidal faves myself. However, I have never felt the need to make excuses for why all their victims deserve it. There might be some that triggered it but by the time they are on the genocide route, they become like a natural disaster targeting both the deserving and undeserving. The beauty of a genocidal character for me is not having to overthink why they killed a specific person. They didn't have to do anything to deserve death, they just happened to be there.

[maryawrites]

Sfumato - Chapter 2

There's an omegaverse reference. Sorry.

Worst!Logan Howlett/Wolverine x Cis! Female Reader, Post DPAW

CW: religious trauma, referenced past child abuse, less ugly burning yearning this chapter, serious religious themes and references, referenced past animal death, C-PTSD, themes of early stage Major Depressive Disorder, unhealthy familial relationships, the story is partially autobiographical, the (Name) in this is a little emotionally stunted and horrible but that's what character development is for

Divider by @/saradika

  I wish I could say I handled the rest of the time they were in the diner with grace. 

  I did not, though. 

  Thank God, no one else happened to come in while Wade and Logan were there. I couldn’t have contained myself and watched Lily take more of my burden. I guess today was a bit on the slower side. How lucky for me. 

  But, as I said, I was not graceful. I was not putting myself to work in the kitchen, or at least assisting Lily behind closed doors. No. I was still, still hiding behind the door, pressing my ear to the wood to avoid being seen while remaining a spy, letting the commercial kitchen island block my coworkers view of me and my sick behaviour. I think they just ignored me after a while, though. Every line cook- Gav, Dan, and Michael- seemed to accept my position as a new normal as they half-mindedly kept the kitchen in check and went on their self-imposed breaks. 

  It’s a slow time. I can’t say it’s an easy time, though, on my part. I’ve found myself having a taste for voyeurism. Is this how God feels, every moment of every day, since He sees all, hears all, tastes all? I always thought God must be stern and cold. Now I think He must be sick with adrenaline constantly, He must be positively drunk on it. It must feel so good to be God. You could do anything you want, because you lie well outside any type of punishment. Your actions and words are law. Killing your soul must feel good to God; He hurts people all of the time. Or He lets them hurt, which, secretly, I don’t think is much different. 

  But there is a difference: I am a sick voyeur. God can commit no sin. He Himself lies outside His own bounds.

  How dare I relate myself to God.

  It’s the split second that I lean back to swallow down my nausea after my accidental deification that Lily returns from bringing the pair two slices of apple pie and one serving of rice pudding that my creeping meets its painful end. I hadn’t heard her coming, and my brief moment of vulnerability rewards me with the door getting smacked into my face as I kneel on the ground. 

  I regain some composure after my ego is sorely bruised, ending my escapade as Lily tries to assure me hushedly that Wade and Logan didn’t see it, or perhaps they just assumed it was someone cleaning up a spill. 

  It does not help.

  I am humiliated. Again. 

-

  Then the pair leave, it’s like a weight has been removed from my body. But it is not quite a relief- it feels more like someone has run off with an organ and I am left only with a gap of air in my body. I never thought being left alone would feel so odd. Yes, I’ve always yearned for my grandmother’s love, but my heart rate only ever slowed when I was alone. I feel disappointed that my heart rate slows now.

  The rest of my shift goes as usual- a rush of dirty dishes and lack-luster small talk, men with watching eyes and women with bitten lips. I take their orders and I nod my head. Gav offers me a cigarette in the kitchen sometimes between the dinner rush and the 9 o’clock rush, and I will admit here, and only here, that I was tempted. My throat was dry and my bones tried to pull me closer and I declined him. I wasn't tired, per se- No, I hadn’t done anything worthy of being weary. But I felt the earth pulling me close, whispering and trying to draw me in. 

  By the time my shift ends, I am still dry. My eyes, my hands, my lips. I take careful time scrubbing the dishes clean and wiping down the booths and tables, consider coming in to wax the chrome sit-down counter on Sunday. Our day off, theoretically, but I have never known a day that wasn’t full of work. My grandmother always said I was such a canine assistant, a shepherd or hound- made to work. Always willing to work. She’d croon over how close I am to a dog while I’d pant in her garden, tiny hands grasping at weeds while the sun peeled the skin back from me like the fruit of Eden. Such a good girl. I always had one more prayer in me, just one more for her, something she always promised me while twisting my cheek numb between her fingers as I kneeled to the ground, all scraped knees and baby-skin. 

  I am good. I will scald myself clean as she did years ago. 

  The thought guides me back down to my wet hands, my eyes peering through the sheen of dish-washer as I raise my hands from the water. 

  A dish sink, shoved into the back of a commercial kitchen, no sounds but water slopping against the sides and far off laughter. The soap in my hangnails- an offering. The tub of thick plastic I brought in after the last patron left- an altar. 

  You can’t see it anymore. My hands look normal, from anyone else's view. You’d have to get very close, and feel very well to know anything ever happened. 

  Gloves that prove my loyalty to purity.

  I was six. I had been six years old for two days. Her cat had died by some mysterious circumstance, its head cleaved off. It was one of the few animals I had ever intimately confronted, and I loved it. I picked up its head, because what else is a stunned child supposed to do? Should a stunned child have thrown it away? Run into the house, screaming? Broken down in tears? I wish I had at least moved. Run away to somewhere inconspicuous. I had known death impersonally- something right around the corner, something God dangles over our heads as punishment and reward alike. It was the first time I had ever seen a dead thing. 

  She was the one who screamed. Who scooped me up and dragged me into the house, my grandmother’s nails slicing my skin in her hold. I’ve never known anyone who could heat up a pot of water as quickly as her. She insisted I’d tainted my soul through my skin. I never found out what happened to the cat after that. What she did with it. 

  I jump out my skin when a hand brushes between my shoulder blades, my head nearly twisting off my shoulders as I turn to see Lily, warily observing me. Her expression clears immediately as our eyes meet, and she speaks as if she did not find me in the middle of confession. 

  “Okay, so, I know ‘M usually pretty lax about your social hang-ups; but, (Name), girl, what happened today? You were totally out of it. (Name), you were acting like a stalker. A very, very shy stalker. What was that? I’m not letting you go until I get an answer.”

  ‘I’m not letting you go until I get an answer’. 

  I’m not letting you go until I get an answer. 

  I can only stare at her for a second, struggling to piece together this life from a former one. All words have dried up in my lungs, and I glance around the kitchen, only to find it empty and the sink and walls behind me. And she stands in front of me, like a pillar. 

  I think I’ve swallowed my tongue. 

  “I don’t know.” 

  My words come before I can register that I’ve even thought to say them, and it takes me several moments before I realize I’m the one who spoke. ‘I don’t know’ is not a real answer. 

  The air is still. Quiet.

  Every hair on my body raises to the ceiling as her body shifts. 

  But I only get to watch her walk away, turning and going back to the back-door of the kitchen with an over-exaggerated sigh. “Okay, okay. Whatever you say, sweetness. What-ever. I’ll get it out of you one day. My man’s here. See ya tomorrow, (Name).”

  She was here. And then she was not. Lily leaves me with nothing more than the echoing remains of a deep sigh. 

  She just… left. She’s gone. 

  The tips of my ears grow warm. I feel something surging, hot and fast, in my veins. It starts at my feet and reaches my fingers, making them twitch. 

  I throw up onto the floor a minute after she leaves, my feet frozen in place on the floor. 

  I get to sit and ruminate on my shameful thoughts and behaviour, my sickening life, as I stay an hour later than usual cleaning what got onto the floor and what got into my sink of almost-clean dishes. Not so clean anymore, I guess. I’m just sorry for the night shift staff who have to see it. 

  If killing myself wasn’t a sin, I’d go home to it like it’s my husband, with open arms and a full-body sense of peace. 

-

  My face is still warm and my hair slings to my head, damp from sweat and steam, when I get back to my floor. I am hot, yes, but I have never felt colder. I feel heavy. Whatever piece my neighbors took when they left, it has been returned tenfold. I could sink into the ground. I genuinely don’t understand how I could ever possibly smile again. Tonight, when I pray, I think I will tell the Lord about every way I dreamt about dying on the bus ride home. And then I will apologize. And then I will cry and pant and dig my knees deep into the floor at my bedside, because it’s always the same fucking cycle. I’ve had the same night every night since I turned twelve.

  Hell can’t be that bad. God can kill me in my sleep, if he wants. I don’t care. In Hell, you would have to get used to the pain eventually. But in this awful, awful life, every pain is new and sharp and fresh, no matter how many times I’ve gone through them.  

  What’s the deal with Hell, anyways? What’s the deal with angels and devils? Everything I’ve ever heard about angels has been inhumane. Never have I been fed stories about repurposed Roman cherubs or dove-winged counselors. Angels were always something else. An else that no one’s been able to identify for me yet. But demons always made sense to me, in a way, not that I ever dared to tell anyone that. They had bodies, and they had accidents, and they felt pain and envy and weariness. Aren’t humans closer to demons than angels, technically? I mean, we were made to be God’s companions, and we failed by pushing our bounds, and demons were supposed to be angels, but they failed by pushing their bounds, too. And we both got to fall. 

  But I push those thoughts from my mind as I approach my door, reaching around my bag for my keys. Those types of thoughts make me feel odd. They make me feel tight, and uncomfortable, like you do right before you walk into a room that’s holding a surprise party for you that you don’t know about. I have to push those considerations away, because I don’t know what to do with them. They are not true. They can’t be. That doesn’t seem right. But it follows a level of logic that confuses me. I have to swallow those wonderings for my own well-being.

  I’m pushing my key into the lock when the door down the hall almost immediately swings open, and I’m too stunned by the sudden movement to react. Before I can process what just happened, I’m gifted with something else to process- namely, the 6’2 man standing across from me, leaning against the wall nonchalantly, as if expecting me to greet him. 

  Surprisingly, Wade’s skin doesn’t bother me as much as it used to. I’ve acclimated quite well to it- which isn’t something to be proud of, but it surprises me. 

  Then again, my epitome of love was a half-naked dead Jewish man torn and bloodied, crucified on a cross for my entire childhood. 

  We stand in silence for a moment more before I turn back to my door, unlocking it in silence. 

  My apathy gains a drawn out, guttural whine from my neighbor, and he slothfully pulls himself up from the wall to stand, stepping back. 

  “You could at least say hi, (Name). Is your dick really in a knot because Logan and I just so happened to eat lunch where you work?”

  His phrasing does get my attention, and I grow flustered, scoffing as I look up at him. I should really be holding myself better, but I’m tired, and he’s the one who’s dragged me into this mood. I’m sure he deals with much snappier people, anyways. 

  “I’m not angry because you went there. Don’t interpret me wrong. I was on my break, actually, so I couldn’t serve you. That’s all.” I reply in a tone of voice much more stale than I intend, surprising myself. When did I get so bland? 

  It seems to surprise Wade, too, because he makes a low sound of interest and smiles slyly, crossing his arms like some catty old gossip, as if I’ve finally caught his attention. That makes me a little angrier, too, for some reason. At least I’m entertaining him. I don’t get why I’m so irritable. But his voice keeps my attention on him and not my new, odd disposition. “Ooh-ho, my, someone’s frustrated. There’s no way little ol’ me and less little ol’ Logan worked you up that much. Is your dick in a knot or does it need to knot?” 

  “What does that even mean?” I mutter in irritation as I turn back to my door, finally unlocking it all the way and pushing it open, trying to shove him out of my mind. 

  “So, what is the deal? Drop some plates? Cuss out a customer? Did a hypothetical coworker flirt with your hypothetical roguishly good looking neighbor and his hypothetical mid-tier roommate? Hypothetically? 

   “I don’t know.” I snarl before slamming the door shut behind me, right in his face. It takes me a moment before I realize what I’ve done. I’ve shocked myself again. I… didn’t think I was capable of talking to someone like that. And I didn't think it was possible to not feel bad about it. 

  I know it was wrong to do that. To snap at him and shut the door in his face, and I logically know I was wrong. But I don’t feel instinctually bad, somehow. I don’t feel shame and fear washing over me, and it’s so… odd. All I feel is the way I’ve felt since I got off my shift- like I’ve been hollowed out and filled with lead. I must be really tired to have done something like that. I must have reached a new level of weariness to have felt no remorse, too. 

  I stand frozen in my living room for a long while, disassociated into my thoughts as I stare into the empty night air in front of me. When I finally think to go back to my door and apologize, I do it swiftly, throwing it open at the same speed I’d slammed it shut. Only to find nothing.

  The hallway is so empty of life I think I might’ve imagined Wade there. Perhaps I really, really am being driven insane by the flesh. I seriously ponder the possibility before I hear the door down the hall lock with a click. 

  Huh.

  I turn slowly, slipping back into my apartment in silence. I don’t know why I don’t feel ashamed. I know I am a bad person. I know I was wrong. But I can't find the energy in me to care. 

  I drag myself over to my couch and fall asleep right there. 

  I will be better tomorrow. I have to be. 

[definitelynotafurinasimp]

Kafka with a tsundere reader (I love Kafka SO MUCH…)

Kafka with a tsundere reader

characters: Kafka x gn!reader

warnings: none

a/n: GET YOUR WISHES READY. IT'S HAPPENING. Less than 24 hours until Kafka releases. So I decided now would be a great opportunity to write something for her, as something of an offering to the Gacha gods...

I'm so down bad for this woman. I swear...

I wish everyone pulling for her the best of luck and I’ll see you on the other side!

Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Kafka

While the Stellaron Hunters were composed of all different kinds of personalities, the ones Kafka kept around herself the most weren’t the most jovial of creatures. Silverwolf ironically preferred to ignore the tendencies of the animal in her name and rather work alone, while Bladie never was all too talkative in the first place.

And then there was you, someone trying so hard to match the stone-faced attitudes of your co-workers, that it was almost a crime not to try and get you to show your real feelings. A crime Kafka for once in her life didn’t intend to commit.

Kafka’s teasing was a misfortune every Stellaron Hunter working with her at least once had to endure. One you begrudgingly had to admit was fun to watch whenever you weren’t her target, the urge to join in whenever the purple-haired woman broke through Silverwolfs stoic facade forcing you to bundle up all of your self-control on more than one occasion.

Today however, was not your lucky day, as it quickly became clear who today’s victim would be.

“Come on, finish what you just wanted to say”, Kafka urged you to continue with a smile so devilish even Nanook would have felt creeped out. It had been foolish enough of you to let your compliment slip out in the first place, especially when Blade and Silverwolf were in the room, but all hopes of not drawing a giant Target on yourself were lost when you cut yourself off in the middle of your sentence, making the fact that it was a slip up as clear as day.

“There is nothing to finish, I was just talking to myself”, you lied as naturally as you breathed, hoping it would be enough to get Kafka to stop. Only for your hopes to be crushed in front of your very eyes as you saw her face light up in a familiar way, one signaling that giving up was the last thing on her mind right now.

“You’re lying.” While being called out on your obvious lie already was enough to make you lose your composure, her teasing tone sent blood flooding directly into your cheeks, causing them to turn red in almost an instant

With one swift turn of your head towards Blade you silently begged him for help, only for your fellow Stellaron Hunter to face away, putting all of his attention onto his weapon. And while you ought to have felt betrayed by his action, knowing how you did the same whenever it was someone else’s turn made you unable to hold a grudge against him.

Silverwolf however was a different story. As when you glanced towards her, you weren’t just brushed off, but instead were greeted by an amused smile, one radiating enough Schadenfreude to feed an entire planet of sadists. Before you knew it however, your attention was once again drawn to Kafka as you tried your best to find the right words to say.

“...I said the new coat suits you”, you murmured out just loud enough for her to hear you, nevertheless she gave you one more teasing smile, one wider than all of the previous.

“That’s interesting, I could have sworn I’ve heard a ‘B’ somewhere. Something along the lines of ‘You look beau-’”, she continued, dragging the last word out in anticipation of what you would say while forcing you to look her in the eyes.

“You look beautiful today”, you finally whispered in defeat, her ears immediately picking up on your words. For a moment you expected her to pretend she didn’t hear you, forcing you to say it once again, just louder. However, it seemed as if getting you to spit it out was enough for her as she showed you a satisfied grin before letting you finally go. Sparring you the embarrassment of having your fellow crewmates hear what exactly you had said that caused you to get this stand-offish.

Or at least that’s what she let you think for a few seconds.

“Oh you think I look beautiful today? Thank you, you’ve got quite the looks yourself.” The big smile on Kafka’s face was hard to miss, although you were far too embarrassed to look back up at her, your red face glued to your shoes for at least the next hour.

No matter how hard you tried to match your colleagues' blank expressions, there was always one person for whom you were as easy to read as an open book.

[the-drokainian]

Not that anyone asked or wanted to know, but I had a thought. Fair warning this is all my own opinion and personal observations. That being said, Does anyone remember the Weredad episode of Miraculous Ladybug? Cause it's a weird thing in hindsight.

Let me break it down for you.

1 (One): The episode starts off with Ladybug and Chat Noir defeating an akuma fairly close to Marinette's home. As such, the girl detransforms on her roof. Then Chat shows up, noticing that Marinette is often found near an akuma sight whenever they are over. In an effort to commit the atrocity and war crime of small talk, the cat hero decides to ask a question in the most misleading way possible only to those who know Marinette's secret identity. Anyone else and they would just let him finish his question. Anyway, Marinette answers before he is done with the first thing that comes to mind to hide her alter ego. This so happens to be that she is In LOVE with Chat Noir. Now we all know that the Adrinette/Marichat/Ladrien/Ladynoir shippers immediately screamed like small children upon hearing this (and as a Marichat afficionado myself i to was excited) HOWEVER!! If you give it a second thought it brings up a couple questions: like "Why in the world would the first thing she thought of when asked why she was in a 'suspicious place' it's her own roof she can be there if she wants any time of day was a love confession to what amounts to this random guy who also just so happens to be a super hero?" Not only that but this was also meant to get him to ignore her and lose any suspicion or interest in her. A strange thought process when considering love confessions but that is an analysis for another day. What we are going to focus on this time is how Adrien-Obsessed-(yes Obsessed not love don't @ me)-Marinette even considered lying about romantic feelings for another individual. We all know she hates liars and lying, plus there are so many better lies that would have made more sense AND been in character for her. Such as being a fan/admirer of heroes, being worried for their health and well-being, bird watching, sun bathing, gardening, sketching, recording for the ladyblog, watching the sunrise/sunset, making fun of akumas and/or Hawkmoth, so on... It didn't need to be a good one, especially since she's a terrible liar anyways, but what was done, was completely out of left field for her. Which leads me to believe that this was a writer’s decision just for the 'plot'.

2(Two) This episode is a prime example of missed opportunity. Marinette is trapped, unable to transform without ousting her secret Identity and forced to act without her powers or abilities, meanwhile Chat Noir is alone fighting the Akuma without his Lady's support or direct. It's the perfect time to show that he can do this just as well as Ladybug and that he is her equal in every way! But wait! What's this? He can't do crap without potentially making everything worse or having Ladybug come up with a plan? He can't even physically take down the Akuma or outsmart him to get the upper hand?! Turns out the lesson all along was that Marinette/Ladybug is the only one that really matters in the end and Chat is just her goofy sidekick?!?!

WHAT THE HECK?!?!?! They are supposed to be partners and equals, if not as heroes then at least power wise, but NO!!! The cat ring is just a one trick pony and it's user couldn't find his way out of a paper bag without someone telling him how!!!

This was Adrien's moment! To show that he could solve his own problems and prove finally that he was on Marinette's level, but it just doesn't work like that, doesn't it. Everything and everyone has to solve all of his problems for him and he never has to be in the wrong or deal with anything important himself. Was Marinette in the right in this episode? No. She lied to save her skin unnecessarily and caused an Akuma in the process, and this wouldn't be the first time something similar has happened *cough*phonethief*cough* but in her defense she always actively tries to solve the problems she causes and often moves mountains in the process of going above and beyond expectations. Even when she doesn't have to or want to.

Sunshine however, has not ONCE solved anything on his own in or out of the mask and Weredad shows that plain as day.

Thanks for coming to my Ted talk, have a good one.

[childrenofcain-if]

Hi! I want to start by warning that this will probably be a long rant about how much i love your IFs. But first, I hope you feel better soon!

The first IF of yours i played was the pjo one, which sent me down a rabbit hole of going through the rest of them (still haven't played tcs but i will soon 🤞🏻). It was just BAFFLING how people could be so purposefully ignorant about the concept of fanfiction and accused you over and over of plagiarism like, please go outside and touch grass, clearly the internet has stopped your brain from developing critical thinking.

Anyways, the adaptation was so well done and faithful while also exuding a newness to it that i am very excited to see unravel. I understand at the moment it has been paused (and I don't know if you've addressed why it's no longer up) and i hope with time you can feel comfortable with it again. None of the shit you've gotten was deserved or even understandable but alas, it still happened. As a content creator myself, i truly truly sympathize with you. I hope these words offer some comfort, however small.

Same goes for WLB, but the awe at how descriptive and raw your writing is really peaked through in something of your own creation. I find myself revisiting it and experiencing the exhilaration from my first reading all over again. I can't wait to watch everyone around my mc descend into eldritch madness as they become more and more unhinged. Consequences of my own actions? Never heard of them, i want my mc to go apeshit!

Now, gods where do i start... TBOTYG is *chef's kiss* flawless, i never thought i could become so obsessed with anything with only one part. I awaited the demo with baited breath, already anticipating all the ways you would surprise and impress (and you did). Every choice, every scenario, the way you build your plot and characters, your descriptions (I don't know if you can tell that I'm a little too hung up on the writing aspect of it) of characters and actions and feelings. The amount of work and effort you put into characterization is so very clear and it feels very freeing to have that amount of control over a character that we're supposed to "relate" to (in the context of the narrative, almost as if living vicariously through them). i think that no matter how much time passes, your IFs will remain a staple in the community and every player who finds your gems will feel blessed and changed after playing.

It's gotten to the point I've created a whole google doc of my MC, and made fake ig accounts with interactions (just for myself, to cope with the anticipation) and this is a level of commitment I've only felt with my own OCs and works. In such a short time, your IFs have carved a deep space for themselves in my life. I find myself replaying and going through their official pages religiously even though I've read every post already.

a question! will every LI's gender be chosen individually? I'm wondering because C and D are suitmates, but is it doable if they're different genders? same for mc and V. I'm thinking yes but also wanted to be sure

Honestly very very sorry for the long rant, I'm sure you have better things to do 😭😭 but i had the uncontrollable urge to express my feelings on your art and it took me an entire day of trying to talk myself out of it (i failed).

(also, here's my mc's profile and dm box. her royal highness maxine's ig profile is private btw. going for c route first. Mitică is the romanian diminutive for the name Dimitru, and opsis is an ancient greek concept i thought would fit V)

i’m speechless (sentimentally), dear reader 😭 i still can’t believe some people would take the time out of their day to think about my silly little worlds and the characters in it, less of all like how i’ve written my works. every single time i hit a writer’s block or have the whole doxxing trauma flare up again, i think of quitting but it’s the urge to write stories and the joy of sharing it with everyone that is still keeping me going.

i can’t explain how much your words mean to me because this is what i write for. to have people relate to or identify with or adore the world and characters i’ve built is such a dream within itself. from the bottom of my heart, i am thankful for every single reader who has always been nothing but supportive from day one. if elias has his apple, i have y’all. and no, it doesn’t mean y’all can have my meagre inheritance but it’s the sentiment that counts.

to answer your question, every single LIs gender will be selectable! blackthorne hall has individual bedrooms per suite so y’all will only be sharing the common areas and kitchenette with V while having your own personal space. it’s more like an apartment than a usual college dorm tbh.

oh and please, rant away! i’d love nothing more than to hear about your MCs and the various headcanons, questions, or theories you might have!

(also please knock C down a few pegs, they desperately need it 😔)

[and-i-will-kiss]

"You bastard, where's my money?"

"I won it fairly!"

"You cheated!"

These two are deep into a heated argument outside the green of the Troskowitz pub. It's late, I'm tired, but still... Sometimes I don't know what compels me to do things no one asked me to.

I pull out my most man-at-arms pose and question them. Look at me, an outsider imposing order where I wasn't welcomed. The thought never crossed my mind, it's just that I'm so used to stick my finger under peoples noses. But this isn't Sasau. Why oh why I never back up or think things through? Now I have two very angry men with the stare of two mastiffs about to maul a kitten. I braved it, maybe my hand-me-downs for armor that I have might intimidate them a bit. Not happening, so I gave my words a chance.

After some exchanges, I can't convince them. The worst part that this argument now has reached the point where I'm so involved in it that the men are increasingly angrier with me. Watch it, Henry, whatever you say might be used against you. But I just won't understand and my frustrations escape through my mouth.

"You are just blockheads."

Now I have two very irate men in front of me, ready to blow the candles out. We start fighting, obviously I'm in disadvantage from all sides. Not only there's two of them, fueled by cheap beer, and they hit like a donkey's kick. I'm getting destroyed. But once I manage to chuck a good right at one of them, I hear it. A night watch guard saw me and beelined to detain me. My rivals scatter, leaving me alone. I know it's not my fault, I think, but I already have a reputation in this town, who am I to change that now?

The guard looks impatiently at me. I try to dissuade him, but I know it won't work, from the look of his stern face.

"Pay up or else!"

My hands snake into my pouch. I don't have enough. I'm tired, beat and bloodied, I can't make a run for it. So the guard detains me, only destination is the pillory in the morning. The stocks aren't good, but at least I'll be free in a day.

But the guard has other intentions.

"You'll get 10 strokes of the cane in the morning!"

I shiver. Caning? I have done nothing to deserve this! I only tried to stop them! This isn't fair! But, well, I feel a bit guilty. I should have stayed away from this. Why I still pretend I'm down in Sasau? I just never learn and now this. I get bound and locked down in the morning. I can't sleep, my insides are chewing themselves up. I think of Ma, she would be shaking her head so bad right now. I wouldn't want to bring shame to her. I'm sorry.

At dawn I get tied to a post. The catchpole announces my crimes. Disturbing the peace, he says. All lies, I know it deep inside. But I'm the only witness to my innocence while the cane finally arrives right in the middle of my back. It stings like fury and fire. And there's nine more to go. I don't want to show pain and I hold my breath, but it's impossible and the third one makes me audibly groan. The townspeople have become a noisy beehive, bumbling buzz that surrounds my ears. The catchpole hits over one of the wounds and I can feel my back getting hotter and angrier with every lash. But then, after this eternity of pain, where my mind was just a blur of thoughts and shame, there's no more.

They cut my bounds, and I heavily fall on my knees. I just feel the breeze of the morning licking painfully my very sore back. I bet Ma is crying now. I'm really, really sorry, I should have known better. I know you didn't want me to become this, I bet you wanted me to stay quiet at home and help Pa. I miss your touch, Ma. You always patched me up good, I wish you were here now. I can't... I just can't.

Someone pulls me up by my shoulders and the only thing I can do now is give a grimace filled with pain and sadness. The only thing they dared to say was to not repeat what I did, that if they find me again committing something similar the punishment will be severe. But for me, as I am right now, it's just hot air. I pick myself up and tread slowly back to Tachov, where my bed awaits.

And I just slept dreamlessly until I heard Mutt scratching on the door.

(I reached Kuttenberg yesterday and it sure lives up to the hype! It's insane! I was on Pebbles and it truly felt like I was on top of the horse, sightseeing around. Also, the second map is just... impossibly large. I made the executive decision of slow down my pace and enjoy it slowly. Also, my Henry is getting beat up pretty easily, so there's a difficulty spike here as well. The button mapping in PS5 is awful and I just want WH to get rid of the Free Camera mode, it's a disaster when in combat, oof)

[studentbyday]

week 1 / small commitments challenge

Summary: I was not focused on my challenge goals this week. I was preoccupied, thinking about the different paths I could take and weighing my options for the next couple of years. Not a bad thing, except I let the thinking invade every moment of my life I had to myself. That includes when I was supposed to be studying ochem and when I was supposed to be sleeping and when I was supposed to just be getting on with my day and doing mindless self-care stuff as quickly as possible so I can dedicate time to what's urgent. Yes, I needed to weigh my options and gather information across multiple days, but I did not have to go about it the way I did. It led to me becoming overtired and having difficulty sleeping which led to me being unable to get through my ochem goals which prevented me from doing anything else. The more tired I became as the week progressed, the worse it got. So my two new priorities for next week are: No. 1: Get enough sleep with a consistent sleep time (9pm be in bed, 10pm at the latest) and wake time (7am ideal but 8am bare minimum). Soothe yourself until you're calm enough to sleep. Like you would a baby (e.g. swaddle, massage/gentle touch, dark room, don't voluntarily subject yourself to anything stressful or overstimulating in the half hour before bed). That's how you stop and keep out of the overtired cycle. No. 2: Lots of meditation throughout the day! 5-10 mins when I wake up, minimum of 10-15 mins before bed (unless perhaps i feel less frazzled thanks to the meditation breaks which help me stay focused throughout the day? idk), and 1-2 minutes in between big tasks (those that take 2h or more) in order to reset my mind before I move onto the next task and give my brain a rest after processing lots of info on a deep level, so it can sustain that level of activity throughout the day and the rest of the week. I'm hoping that by prioritizing rest, I can succeed at my new study routine (which has also changed from last week as my priorities have changed...yet again) and work more efficiently and quickly while staying cool in mind! A chaotic breakdown of the week aka my sleep-deprived end-of-day gibberish where I try to make sense of everything that's happened lies below 😅

Monday: sleep deprived -> slow start to the day -> quite behind schedule. i listened to 1 and a half chemistry lectures, added to the notes from last week, read and annotated 1 of the 2 sets of notes i'm supposed to read this week, and answered all except 4 questions of a practice quiz on last week's material. asides from this, i did 1/3 of an Algebra 1 lesson, took a nap, and practiced driving.

Tuesday: later start than yesterday bc i wanted to get enough sleep. overall worth it, but that meant there wasn't enough time to get everything done and there were lots of distractions to field. i only did ochem and practiced driving today. i didn't even finish all the ochem i wanted to (i finished 1.5 lectures again, added to notes, started reading the second set of notes for this week, and answered 1/4 of the questions for 1 of 2 assignments for this week). i'm still trying to find a routine that works for this subiect bc it's really condensed (most weeks cover 2 lengthy modules at once 😭) and it's not a subject that's that easy to feel confident in just right off the bat...at least for me 😅 who knows, perhaps for the time being, i'll have to spend more than 4 hours on it a day until i feel confident in the fundamentals?? i also have lots to improve on in my lecture notetaking skills (i.e. trust my memory more and write down notes only AFTER i finish watching a lecture instead of attempting to write notes DURING the lecture and getting confused -> rewinding)

Wednesday: my problem this week is that i'm very distracted. still trying to figure out which path is best for me (i.e. to transfer uni or change program within my uni if that's possible...definitely probably shouldn't stick with my current program tho, that's one thing i've pretty much decided), asking around, doing my own research, trying to think of any combo of reasonable options i haven't explored yet (this is what i was doing for a lot of today). i really hate unresolved issues. they stick around in my head until it's resolved and even if i'm not actively thinking about it, i can still feel its presence in the back of my mind (and if it's big and concerning enough, it will keep bugging me at inconvenient intervals)! 😤 and this issue will stay unresolved until i have made a decision. and even then, i might still question it until enough time passes to show me that it was the right decision 😅 it's like...either i'm in "re-assess" mode aka "question every decision i have made and could make and predict to the best of my knowledge where it will lead me and do i like where it leads me?" mode (WHICH CANNOT ALL BE ANSWERED IN ONE SITTING SO HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO SCHEDULE THIS?!?! 😵‍💫😫), or "put your head down and do the work" mode wherein i'm in danger of losing sight of the bigger picture. i swing from one to the other whenever smth happens to make me realize i've stayed too long in one mode. (like in this case where i was feeling very annoyed with my current lifestyle, finally decided to say "fuck it" to my strong desire to stay within my comfort zone, and explored other options and their pros and cons which included grad school admission requirements 🤦🏻‍♀️). i'm grateful to have this many options, but today i got so overwhelmed by them and the deadlines by which i need to have made a decision and the fact that there's a lot of ochem this week to do which is more urgent but also not as existentially worrying that i decided to rid myself of the mounting anxiety with a cardio abs workout. 🥵😮‍💨😮‍💨 it worked...but now i am so pooped and don't wanna get up 😅 (update: i did get up and did a little more ochem)

Thursday: too tired to do all the ochem i wanted to (i did a little reading, a little bit of lecture watching, and finished the last 3 Qs on 1 of 2 assignments this week). i keep letting myself get overtired with my overthinking against my better judgment (like, especially after an intense workout the day before??? girl, you need to sleep!!!). anyway, i've finally pretty much decided to just switch programs at my current uni but i don't think i'll really believe i've made the decision (objectively! all on my own! using a weighted pros and cons list! 😁) until the end of this week. 😅 it will still be a more rigorous program, although not in the ways i expected (but still good!), and it will challenge me in all the right ways but i won't rack up as much expense (thank goodness! 🙏🏻) and it will be a shorter commute and i will get to spend more time with family which is just such a relief. i don't want to fall into the rat race mentality, tho sometimes i think i need to. but perhaps that's just FOMO and comparing myself against others in an unhealthy way. like, i don't actually want a rat-race/hustle culture type of life for myself if i have the option not to live one, yet i sometimes feel like i need to be a completely different person living a completely different lifestyle in order to really make it in this society...well, there are many ways to skin a cat.

Friday: ochem lab, watching another lecture, reading the ch, working on ochem assignment, and driving.

Weekend: sleepy. reset routine and family time. finishing up ochem submissions for this past week (done is better than perfect! 😤) and driving.

[szaryherbatnik]

Gonna preface this with three things: 1) I am not talking Virgil to you, unfortunately, I am talking Sarnax to you so uhh hopefully that's ok? 2) I have not actually watched/listened to COS I have gotten into it by proxy of fandom so please please please forgive me if the vibes are way off and 3) TWs for minor character death and burning alive 😅

Was listening to Shout Sister (by The Buttress) earlier and parts of the song give the vibes of Sarnax's cult (I forgor what they're called), especially towards the end.

"With my staff and my rod/We'll find peace within/I commit myself to God, leave my cause to him/As the flames lick our bodies/They could tear us limb from limb/Sisters, fix your gaze upwards/Feel no pain on your skin/End is nigh, my body is broken/I go now into the night, to die/Eyes and heart open/Hold the cross high so through the flames I can see/Oh my God, my life, it ends/Pray for me!"

I don't know if they did sacrifices to Gherix, but those are he vibes this gives me. The sacrifice is kneeling as the flame is brought closer, they're chanting and holding some kind of holy object until the flame gets close enough and they're caught in rapture as they see their God before they're engulfed in flame. They scream and scream because it *hurts* until eventually their body lies still as the flames smoulder on.

"It can not take long to die/There will be a little pain, but then it will end" Sarnax remembers the elders saying, telling him their sacrifice it would all be ok. But watching from the crowd, Sarnax realizes it really doesn't sound like a quick death, nor a painless one. He tries to convince himself they were screams of ecstacy, but he can never shake himself of the belief that they were in agony for those few moments. The elders ask why he hasn't been to a sacrifice since. He can't tell them that he spends the time praying fervently to Gherix for forgiveness of the doubts every new sacrifice instills in him.

Idk, maybe I'm just going insane. Sorry for the long af thing

I'm gonna preface my response with two things. 1) it is absolutely alright to not talk virgil to me I am happy to get asks of any kind, sarnax is my lovely, my patron saint, my best friend. I'm always happy to talk about him! 2) the vibes are not way off but for me to properly talk about the vibes im gonna SPOIL A LOT. I MEAN A LOT. ENDGAME SPOILERS. for curse of strahdanya and beneath dark wings actually. ooooh you have been warned !!!

(anon if you dont want spoilers and these are heavy ass spoilers im just gonna say the vibes are pretty much in the right place and the lyrics are very sarnax coded. i highly rec watching cos and bdw to get the full story!)

SO yeah the cult of gherix ABSOLUTELY does sacrifices. As a bit of exposure, the cult is situated below the treetop country of eyrios (populated by owl aarakocra) who are pretty violent towards the people who live below. pretty shitty place from a lot of points of view. and the cult of gherix did sacrifice a lot of the aarakocra to gherix, while collecting tar from the edelwood trees that would eventually be used to burn eyrios. in the last episode of cos it's revealed that sarnax himself killed a child aarakocra as a sacrifice. by then he didnt feel great about it, but a lot of the change within sarnax happened during the expedition, not before, not in the garden, not in the cult.

speaking of sacrifice, especially in the context of this song and this ask, it's hard not to talk about the lizard, the inferno in the room. the ultimate sacrifice IS sarnax who after talking about how hes gonna die and how hes never getting out of barovia DOES sacrifice himself to purge all the evil. but it wasnt the same sacrifice as the ones that happened in the garden. sarnax's final inferno was full of love and before it happened, sarnax experienced a whole lot of beautiful moments. friendship, love, family, spreading kindness. spreading edelwood trees that stand tall in barovia still, after 200 years.

i dont quite know what sarnax's approach was to all the stuff that was happening in the garden. mainly the sacrifices i mean. after all, these actions were a reaction to the abuse the cult of gherix experienced from eyrios. even though his final stance was against sacrificing, i dont doubt that he had spent his whole life thinking it was the right thing to do. and his way of thinking was blessed by gherix.

well. ultimately the cult of gherix is now GONE they all died after trying to burn eyrios down but they got killed by acid rain so. i could talk about this particular moment in a different fucking essay cause i have thoughts about it. but! sarnax's legacy goes on, the edelwood trees still stand, tommy morgan is spreading (or was spreading, he probably died atp) the word of gherix with sarnax's lantern in his hand, the chapel of lathander has a whole shrine dedicated to sarnax and gherix.

sarnax's sacrifice couldn't have been painless. he's sacrificed people (AT LEAST ONE) himself, he's killed people, he knows how painful death it. how painful it is to burn to death. but he did it willingly, the pain was worth it at the end.

(the peace didnt last forever but does that mean that sarnax's death was in vain? no. i dont think so. not after i've seen the tear stained faces of the loa crew, after mike poured so much love in beneath dark wings arc 4. not after i spent hours crying about it, not after seeing andy's reaction to "the burning of the windmill" in eom, not after "a woman mourning her friend")

that being said, i hope that the fucking apocalypse that is happening in bdw currently WILL NOT FUCKING DESTROY THE EDELWOOD TREES IN BAROVIA ILL BE PISSED. MICHAEL IRONING BOARD I WILL REQUEST PAYMENT FOR EMOTIONAL DAMAGE. but even if they do get destroyed... eom has an edelwood tree. not all hope is lost.

i hope this reply is somewhat satisfying though it turned into a whole ass ramble. the song is a banger.

[onyxisnotuniqueenough]

i have 35 followers on this account.

and while 35 is not a lot, this is the most amount of people i can reach. i should have been doing this sooner but have been FUCKING STUPID about it and have kept silent about it on tumblr to maintain some kind of semblance of escapism for myself here. but my escapism doesn't matter. can palestinians enjoy the luxury of escaping their situation right now? are they LITERALLY able to escape the bombing. nevermind escape, survive any of the tactics pulled by israel to ensure their genocide?

there's a sense of guilt looming over my head telling me that i should be doing more, but in truth, there is not much i can do to help. telling me that i shouldn't take for granted the roof over my head, the safety of my loved ones, food, water, electricity, the ability to literally communicate with the outside world. so let me do the best i can and spread the message with as many people i can.

if you're also wondering what you can do to help, here are some things i am doing and am in the process of doing :

- follow news about gaza through livestreams from the outside : multiple sources have provided access to a livestream of what's going on in gaza. israel has cut off all communication and electricity in gaza and i have a pit in my stomach telling me that they just want no eyes on them for whatever they want to do. all we can do is watch from afar. stay updated.

- watch tiktoks from people who have signed up for the creativity fund on tiktok or similar stuff on other platforms : if you're not able to donate yourself, you can find lots of creators on tiktok using their 5 seconds of YOUR watchtime to donate to help palestine.

- continue sharing, promoting, and "liking" content about palestine : israel is literally doing its best to keep us and palestinians in the dark, metaphorically and literally, from what's happening and what they're planning to do. raise palestinian voices, help them grow, share their stories. everything is forever on the internet ? great. take advantage of that. sharing is a way to ensure that all information we have on the situation stays alive and can't be shadowbanned or deleted or anything. the more people palestinian voices reach, the harder it would be to silence them. it also makes it accessible to anyone and everyone to see the horrors committed by the state of israel, and debunk any fucking idiotic shit their twitter accounts is trying to spew with their photoshopped cartons of milk, their very false infographics and their general flow of lies and propaganda.

- if you can, email or contact your elected representatives. they're...well...supposed to represent you, and their position is more advantaged to get something done. here's a video on tiktok that i found explaining the importance of emails (specifically in canada, bit i'm sure it applies to other places too) :

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMjsax5Qj/

- boycott brands that support or fund israel. now first, let me tell you : the 729 or 871 you find at the beginning of a barcode is not a certain sign the product has been manufactured in israel. this has been debunked since the origin of this lie in 2021 :

https://factcheck.afp.com/social-media-posts-share-misleading-claim-barcode-prefixes-can-show-if-product-made-israel

https://www.google.com/amp/s/thelogicalindian.com/amp/fact-check/barcode-israel-28806

if you have a doubt, fact-check whatever company owns the product to buy, it only takes a few clicks.

second, if you think that boycotting is useless because you're just a grain of sand in the universe : that's absolutely not true. humanity is just a bunch of grains of sand. humanity is a COLLECTIVE. stop thinking your actions don't have an impact. they absolutely do. that's how we've been capable of making such an imapct on companies' stock already!

you probably already know about Starbucks, McDonalds, and Disney. Here are some more companies and brands to stop giving your money to :

- HP : Hewlett Packard helps run the biometric ID system that Israel uses to restrict Palestinian movement.

- Siemens : is complicit in apartheid Israel’s illegal settlement enterprise through its planned construction of the EuroAsia Interconnector. This will link Israel’s electricity grid with Europe’s, allowing illegal settlements on stolen Palestinian land to benefit from Israel-EU trade of electricity produced from fossil gas.

- Puma : Puma sponsors the Israel Football Association, which includes teams in Israel’s illegal settlements on occupied Palestinian land.

- Sodastream (has been bought by Pepsico) : Soda Steam is actively complicit in Israel's policy of displacing the indigenous Bedouin-Palestinian citizens of Israel in the Naqab (Negev). SodaStream have a long history of mistreatment of and discrimination against Palestinian workers.

- Ahava : Ahava cosmetics has its production site, visitor center and main store in an illegal Israeli settlement.

- Sabra : Sabra hummus is a joint venture between PepsiCo and the Strauss Group, an Israeli food company that provides financial support to the Israeli army.

these are the first results that popped up with a simple google search, but that's not all. There's also L'oréal, Garnier, Nestlé, and so many more. it's hard to keep track of all of them and jaw-dropping to see just how many of them are involved and actively supporting Israel.

here are some more links for brands and companies to boycott :

https://bdsmovement.net/get-involved/what-to-boycott

https://www.ethicalconsumer.org/ethicalcampaigns/boycotts

multiple instagram and tiktok pages also

if you've already purchased products from them, obviously, don't throw them away. If any product from one of these companies is absolutely essential or if you don't have any other viable choice, it's understandable. Do your best, and whatever effort you make on your scale is helpful. This is also an opportunity to support local shops and businesses, diy your own beauty products, cook more on your own, and instead of directing your money towards genocide, you could direct to donating to aid-to-palestine charities or literally to your pocket. but honestly, the idea of a 70+year ethnic cleansing and literal genocide should be enough.

- now this seems like the most obvious one so that's why it's the last bullet point : donate to charities that support palestine, sign petitions, etc.

there is footage out there of thousands of trucks that cannot cross palestine/"israel" borders because. well. of israel. these trucks contain food, water and hygiene products that donations were supposed to provide. this is heartbreaking that the help you hoped to provide couldn't reach the people it was supposed to reach. if you're thinking your donation is useless, well, i get it. i am having trouble even saying anything about that, because I myself am worried that it could be useless. But you have to stay hopeful, cause that's all most of us have right now. I would say to absolutely continue donating whatever you can to charities that support palestine, that provide water, food, shelter, and emergency medical care. You have to hope that it'll somehow reach them. You have to hope that it'll somehow stop.

At the time of writing, voting results at the UN General Assembly show a margin of 120!! to 14 (and 45 abstinents) for a ceasefire and immediate humanitarian truce between Palestine and israel. And now while that might seem like amazing news, let's remember that the General Assembly is for non-binding resolutions. FOR A BINDING RESOLUTION, the decision must be made by the Security Council. I'm not gonna explain everything, but the permanent members of the UN Security Council are fucking it over. here's full context :

Also, the letter tO THANK Biden that countless celebrities ??? disappointing too. some names on that list really surprised me, and i'm disappointed that people i have supprted in the past have turned around and thanked biden for supporting a genocide. it's so stupid and disappointing.

of course, feel free to tell me if i've cited the wrong sources, if i've missed something, or have said false info in anyway.

i'd also like to add that arab palestinians are not the only victims and that countless innocent jewish people have also been affected by the genocide. that the press vest has meant norhing so far. and that israel is not looking that closely into who they're killing. as Daniel Hagari said, Israel's method is "destruction, not accuracy."

MY HEART GOES OUT TO ANY VICTIM IN GAZA. IN PALESTINE.

BTW : I am not open to conversation with zionists or pro-israels. keep your anon asks very very very far away from me. i will not lend a ❤️listening ear❤️ to someone who ignores or defends genocide, and i don't see anything wrong with ignoring that kind of rhetoric. fuck you.

[jedidryad]

As previously mentioned, sometimes writing this Mara memoir is very frustrating because there are absolutely conversations that could have happened and potentially resolved a few things for our OTP sooner. And not all of those conversations involve Luke and Mara actually talking to each other either. It is canon that Kyle Katarn completes his training at some point, seemingly before Luke and Mara get married, and he has a story to tell...

Kyle Katarn could sense a change coming over Master Skywalker and he fell into a disquieted silence as he watched his teacher stand up and ask Master Solusar to take over the interview. Without a further word, Luke Skywalker left the practice room fast enough that his Jedi robe billowed behind him.

“What just happened?”

Kam Solusar turned back to meet Kyle’s concerned gaze.

“I’m not entirely certain,” he offered, “but I don’t think it is anything for you to worry about.”

“Some sort of emergency?”

“Maybe. I expect he will clarify later. Please continue.”

Kyle finished his account of Mara Jade’s poise and unexpected calm as he’d held his lightsaber menacingly at her throat, until the magnitude of what he was considering had overwhelmed him. It had been one thing he explained to think about darkness. It was another entirely to commit so much to any given set of ideas that he would be willing to kill his friends and family for it. 

When he finished his account of his experience with the dark side, Master Solusar seemed pleased. 

“It sounds to me like your encounter was one we may all touch at some point. While you struggled in its clutches for a while, with the help of a friend, you found your way back. It is a reminder that we all find ourselves in need of friends and fellow Jedi to help us along the way. Please remember this as you consider your trials.”

Kyle nodded in acknowledgement, but couldn’t help but wonder if Master Skywalker had a different opinion of him.

The Jedi Master caught up with him outside the sparring field just after breakfast the next morning.

“I want to apologize for my quick departure yesterday.” he opened with an expression that matched his words,  “It was unnecessary and probably made your story harder to tell than it otherwise would have been. I do not find your experience with the dark side too horrifying to handle. Just something about it hit me in a way I needed to sort out with myself and that was not your fault at all.”

“I appreciate the explanation but you don’t have to apologize, Master Skywalker.” He paused but then found he couldn’t resist exploring the hunch, “it was because of Mara, wasn’t it?

“Pardon?” All of a sudden, Luke Skywalker’s eyes seemed wider than usual, his expression more vulnerable.

“You handled all of it - my story of the voices and the disembodied feelings and power fantasies and the lies I told and the creatures I killed and my anger at Jan, all of it. You sat calmly and patiently filled with sympathy and understanding.” Kyle smiled,  “but then I told you that I’d threatened Mara. I told you I declared she would join me or die and that I’d held my lightsaber to her throat and she hadn’t flinched or backed down, and you turned to stone.” Kyle’s smile ventured into grin territory, “a very angry stone, I might add.”

“I -” The Jedi Master was beyond flustered.

“It’s okay, Master Skywalker. I care about Mara too. She’s one of my best friends and she and Jan have a great time together. In fact, you should see what they get up to when they visit with Mirax and Iella.” He watched the Jedi Master’s jaw drop slightly, “or maybe you shouldn’t.”

Master Skywalker pulled himself together but still seemed remarkably nonplussed.

“Yes, well, clearly the two of you have worked it out, and that is what matters. It’s none of my business and my reaction was not appropriate as your teacher. I am sorry.”

“Possibly not.” Kyle agreed, “but since you had a reaction, you might want to talk to her about it.”

“If she wanted me to know about it, she would have told me.”

Kyle looked at Luke suspiciously, “you sure about that?”

“Did you wish for me to hear the end of your account, or was it sufficient to share your story with Master Solusar and we can move on to preparing for your trials?”

[curewhimsy]

I feel awful for having to ask for insight (messy thoughts)

Hello. I still have a lot of questions about the Palestinian Genocide that I’m too afraid to ask. I would’ve sought insight earlier if I weren’t so scared I’d be criticized for not knowing.

I’m against Israel, I’m against their government’s genocide of Palestine, but there’s a lot I still don’t understand about the situation. I’m uneducated and legitimately don’t know where and how to research and get non-propaganda.

I also have a lot of trouble comprehending what’s happening. I don’t have very good comprehension skills. I know a lot of people would say “what’s there NOT to understand about a literal genocide?” And I get that, it’s just that I might have a comprehension disability. (I’ve always been awful at understanding history mostly because of all the perspectives I have to comprehend and such.) I also don’t know much about the political world in general.

First of all, I wonder why America is supporting Israel. It just seems heinously and cartoonishly evil that America is helping a government commit genocide, and because of how absurd it is, it confuses me… How is the USA even ALLOWED to do this? And why is there so much propaganda in the first place? What is the US getting out of lying? How many of these lies have truth to them?

I am angry, baffled and horrified, but also very confused. I have a lot of questions.

For example, the news keeps saying Hamas is a “terrorist group.” Is that statement propaganda? Is Hamas actually just fighting for liberation? Are they really holding Israelis hostage or are those made-up lies? Is Hamas blown out of proportion to make Palestine look bad? Also, if Palestine is freed, will Jewish people have a place? Should I even be caring about that? I don’t know where to find those answers. The internet is filled with propaganda and I have no idea how to tell what is and isn’t.

But I’m probably more brainwashed by the Israel propaganda on the news my parents watch than I care to admit. I’m not immune to propaganda. It’s especially hard when my parents believe everything they hear too.

To be honest, without tumblr I’d be completely in the dark. Even now, I almost have NO IDEA what’s propaganda, what isn’t, and how to tell if something is propaganda or not. I’m pretty amazed that so many people on Tumblr have so much perspective on the situation and such a clear understanding of it. Because I don’t, and no matter how hard I try, I just can’t wrap my head around it.

I just don’t know where to get answers to a lot of questions I have.

Sorry about this. I just want to know how to educate myself so I can be another well-educated voice fighting for Palestine.

[etoilesombre]

Any plans for a What Lies Beneath sequel?!?

Oh the demon one?? 👀👀 So, the short answer is probably not, though I wish so.

My pace of actually producing writing has paradoxically slowed since I've started, I wish I could crank stuff out chill and easy but I have not yet cracked how to do that. And I have prior commitments. So. In order, here's the likelihood of sequels:

Flintmadi Book Thing: (By Faith of my Body, first chapter published) is the next real project I need to pick back up, I have it outlined, I have done all the research, I had momentum, and got side tracked. Because its HARD, god that one takes so much, they are both fuckin smarter than me, and they don't talk all that much in the show, making it Feel Right takes a lot.

Longfic (Another Troy to Burn): I need to wrap this up. I always said I would do it if it killed me, its my baby, its already a novel, its my Vision I had for them while watching the show. On the other hand, it has now been 2 (count them 2) years since an update, and honestly I have explored a lot of the things I wanted to explore in that in other places. When I think about just letting it go at this point, I'm more relieved than sad. But I do feel like I owe it to everybody, and also, it is the more practicing-for-writing-novels fic, I need to figure out how to wrap it up and actually do that, just to get my head back in that style of writing. But instead of following the whole way through canon, I will probably let this installation be the last and let it wrap up during the season break.

For to Fight the Cold: This one needs a sequel, it will be fun easy porn (this is a lie I'm telling myself, but, I do know in my head what happens next and I feel like I should share with the class.)

And then once all THAT (some part of that, at least the first two) is done, my plan is to work on Russia AU, which I am very excited about and I think will be totally able to be for real published with names changed.

And of course the thing I am ACTUALLY, CURRENTLY working on, has nothing to do with any of this (and is AwfulDark I'm so stoked)

Which is to say I would love to do followups for demon and also for cooking verse, but, I'm also happy with where I left them in those. FWIW, in demon, I did think a LOT when I was writing it about how Flint just is starting to come to terms with all this stuff about himself, but then when Miranda is killed.... he would very much give in to the darker side of a lot of those impulses, in a way that I personally am very interested in. I definitely have fun thinking about it and am happy to talk about it it's just... I have other obligations.