#it tells me this. that people these days are merely interested in convenience. and the cost of convenience is paying attention.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Dear Raven, do you have any opinion on the Tangled event in terms of it’s “story”? Cause I personally feel that it was rather underwhelming…

I have a lot of thoughts about Wish Lantern, so I'd be more than happy to expand on those here. First of all, I think a lot of us were underwhelmed by this event because we went in with a certain set of expectations. We thought this would be THE Riddle event and hyped ourselves up about how this would further his character development. And technically, the event did do that--even if said development was only relevant for parts 2-7 to 2-13, and the final part, 2-18. I think we just weren't fans of the execution. Rarely are story events contained mostly in a single room--but Wish Lantern was. Rarely are modern Twst story events a mere two episodes long--but Wish Lantern was. Rarely do story events call for characters to just stand around and reenact the exact same things the Disney characters did--but in Wish Lantern, they do. It was just a storm of blandness when I think we were wanting and expecting to explore a new place, and more in-depth exploration of Riddle's complicated relationship with his mother, especially considering we got Wish Lantern right off the tail end of his book 7 dream in the JP server. But we didn't get that, so many people ended up disappointed.

Now, how do I feel about it? Well...

I think I get what they were going for by cramming everyone into the library. The devs were probably trying to show us how claustrophobic and suffocating it is to be trapped inside and stripped of your freedom. They wanted us to feel the same way that Rapunzel did up in her tower, and they did it all without telling us to our faces "doesn't it suck, don't you feel awful about this?" But the problem with this setting is that it also makes for a dull story, especially when you combine it with the fact that Riddle and the others come to the stunningly stupid conclusion that they HAVE to live out the same life the Princess in the Tower did to get out.

We never got an explanation as to why this chain of events was even set off by the lantern to begin with. As a writer myself, this really bothers me :/

We got NRC library lore, but it was not that interesting because this could have been easily guessed, given the age and elite status of the school.

One bit of new lore I thought was very interesting was Jack saying that only a handful of mages are authorized to move humans using magic + there are restrictions on this kind of magic. This fleshes out the magic system of Twst and the laws around its use.

I found it silly that Riddle was the one to suggest that they pretend to be princesses and that this is what would help solve their problem. That's so nonsensical and such a huge leap of logic, I expected it of KALIM, not Riddle. (Maybe you could argue that Riddle has a desire to let his inner child out, but I do not see current day Riddle so overtly expressing that; he has shown time and time again he is uncomfortable going outside the bounds his mother laid for him, and that includes acting in traditionally immature ways.) And not only that, but why did they all insist and automatically invest so much in being princesses, and continue to dig into details about the Princess in the Tower's life, truly believing that reenacting it would get them out of this bind??? I know it's for plot convenience, but it was so contrived. They literally had no proof this would work yet kept acting in ways that implied they genuinely believed it would work. Why wouldn't they just believe "okay, this isn't working" after changing into their new clothes, makeup, and hairdos and try something else? No, instead they just fully dedicated themselves to this reenactment strategy after questioning their assumption maybe once or twice.

The Princess in the Tower is even a FAIRY TALE in the world of Twisted Wonderland. It's not actually a part of their history. The characters point out (at multiple points in the event) how silly the fairy tale is or how little sense it makes. So... that gives them even less reason to believe in reenacting it as their solution.

Shoutout to the part where Jack talks about how tight his shirt is in the chest area (boobs too big, lol) and how he had to alter it to be more comfortable for him...

There were strange parts where the event was like a... poorly written locked room mystery? In a good mystery, the reader is handed all the clues to come to their own conclusions. In a bad mystery, important details are not given to the reader, so there is no feasible way for them to come to their own conclusions until the story tells them that missing crucial information. This happens a few times, with Ace handing Riddle "something he'll need" (which turns out to be a frying pan), Riddle "taking a long time" to jump out of the window (because he was contacting Silver to tell him to bring Vorpal), and Vargas giving them climbing rope (to aid in their escape). We only anticipate these things to occur if you're familiar with Tangled already. If you haven't seen it, you would have NO IDEA what is going to happen with these scenes.

I liked that every NRC character, including staff, got their five minutes in the spotlight. We don't often get events like this, so I appreciate them when they do happen.

Mom!Jamil was so very prominent this event 💀

Jade killed me when he showed up wearing THAT STUPID VARGAS CAMP MONSTER MASK THING.

... Remember what I said earlier about how it's confusing how Riddle, Jack, Deuce, and Kalim are throwing literally their ALL into these hobbies??? Well. Leona comes in and tells them it's inefficient to do that. Why are they trying to play an entire game of chess when moving a single piece is enough to constitute fulfilling the (supposed) requirements? If they were so worried about the time crunch, they should have been more economical with their time and spent the minimum amount on every activity, not spend hours trying to do each one. AGAIN, I HAVE TO GIVE IT TO KINGSCHOLAR... HE IS CORRECT. Of all the characters, I can only really see Riddle being anal about doing everything perfectly, but the other three could easily coast by on the bare minimum.

This is a bit of my book 7 salt spilling over into this event, but I kept having this nagging thought that Riddle and co. (+ Crowley) seem VERY concerned with escaping the library before it rolls over to the next day. Like... I understand why they're worried--but they oddly do not demonstrate this same level of urgency for most of the dream hopping in book 7 even though the stakes are much higher there. It doesn't make sense to me...

The devs got creative with the framing of this event; there was the diagonal slice and then showing two characters in two different locations speaking, as well as the Jamils low fade in + vanish.

The new music tracks were nice; one emulated the Kingdom Dance, and the other was a combination of the instrumentation of When Will My Life Begin and At Last I See The Light, which I appreciated.

The rhythmics/twistunes were cute. Nothing else to add.

I did like the character development we actually got for Riddle—I just wish it came attached to a better event and was executed better. His development is sort of poorly spaced out (especially when compared to Deuce in White Rabbit Fest), the event itself is short, and Riddle doesn’t even bring up his mom until 2-13… when the last part is 2-18.

I still felt that the parallels between Rapunzel and Riddle were sufficiently conveyed; it just requires reading between the lines.

I loved that they made a point to mention that the Princess didn’t know she was kidnapped by a witch because the witch provided all that she could ever want in her tower. Delicious food and lots of things to do… why would she ever go against someone that provided these amenities for her? It is similar to the mindset many abused children have—simply because an abusive guardian provides for them, children are compelled to give them grace and feel guilty about disobeying. These kids don’t realize they are “kidnapped” (under the abusive guardian’s thumb). The same goes for Riddle.

When I think about it… the window is an important symbol for Riddle. The manga more explicitly shows us that Trey and Chenya knocked on Riddle’s window to get his attention. It’s also through the window that Riddle escapes to go play with them. Now, again, a window is his escape, and, learning from past experience, he hesitates to take that route even though it is so easily accessible. I've decided... Never again. Almost made me gasp out loud, honestly. This was the part I expected from the start, and Twst actually delivered.

Another point I feel is very important is how Riddle consistently brings up the rules as a means of depriving himself of basic things like food (because you cannot eat in the library). The others have the be the ones to convince him to take better care of himself. He even has trouble jumping from the window too—and this is the same as Rapunzel. It’s not that they cannot leave the tower. They can leave anytime they like—but they trap themselves in it, psychologically speaking, due to how they’ve been isolated and controlled. That takes real strength and willpower to overcome.

It’s great that Jack, Deuce, and Kalim support Riddle through this tough decision-making, even if they’re blunt about it. (Sometimes bluntness is what he needs to really snap into action!!) “I don’t want to see you turning into a loser that uses the rules as an excuse to not act.”, “Are you planning on staying there forever?” etc.

The ending nicely wraps up Riddle’s little arc. He connects the dots that both he and Rapunzel broke the promises made to their mothers—but it was worth it to see this amazing sight, wasn’t it?

I happen to have my own Wish Lantern rewrite if you're interested in an alternate versio of the event. As it currently is, it's okay to pretty good in the Riddle development scenes alone and has some cute interactions, but everything else surrounding that is pretty bleh.

[witchezandwonderz]

Whispers of the Seer

Pairing: Ivar x Reader

Word Count: 1.8 k

Ivar’s fist thundered onto the wooden table before him, in turn almost breaking it clean in half. The sudden noise caused your breath to catch and your heart to flutter slightly, although you steadied yourself in a desperate attempt to show as little emotion as possible.

He looked at you, curiosity clouding him. He wanted a reaction from you. In fact, he could almost say that he needed one, for you had shown not an ounce of feeling since he had met you a mere days before. Ivar was used to evoking emotional reactions; it was fair to say that most, if not all residents of Kettegat were scared of Ivar, and his unpredictable ways. You were different.

You had appeared in the dead of night days before, for you had been experiencing the most intense, vivid visions. You had experienced visions since you were a mere child. Your mother and father had kept it quiet, as they knew what would happen if you were found to be a seer. They were not ready to let go of their little girl.

But, as you grew older, so did your visions and connections. You felt yourself growing more powerful, and you wanted to know more. You ran away from home once you felt restricted; you knew that your parents had your best interests at heart, but the gods had chosen you, and that was more special than any human love you felt.

You had visions of people often, both ones whom you recognised, and whom you had never seen before. Ivar was the first that you felt compelled to seek and guide. His bright blue eyes were scratched into your memory, and you felt the need to be close to him. As close as possible. You had always seen Ivar, since you were a child, but not often; a few times a year, perhaps. You did not know his name, you only knew what you saw, and that was not a lot. As you grew older, you pieced information about him together as though it were a puzzle.

You had known that his father, Ragnar Lothbrok had died; that night, you lay as you saw a brief picture of Ragnar in a snake pit. Since that night, your visions of Ivar became more intense and frequent than ever before and you knew that it was finally time to go and visit Ivar, and tell him everything.

“Do you know who I am?” Ivar's voice was low, venomous, but with a thread of curiosity woven through it. “What I am capable of?”

You tilted your head slightly, your hands clasped before you. “I do,” you replied, your tone even. “I know more of you than most, Ivar Ragnarsson. I know the weight of your pain, the fire of your ambition. And I know what the gods have shown me of your future.”

The room grew still, the air charged with unspoken tension.

Ivar breathed, a wide grin stubbornly stood on his lips as his eyes bore into you. Using both hands to grip the steel chair in front of you, you leant forward, ensuring to not break eye contact.

His eyes squinted slightly. “How convenient,” he began, his voice dripping with sarcasm, “that the gods have sent me a seer—one who just so happens to be the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.”

You stiffened but kept your composure, your hands remaining clasped before you.

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, his grin widening as he spoke. “Do you know how many women have tried to impress me? How many have thrown themselves at me, hoping to worm their way into my favour?” He paused, his eyes narrowing slightly. “And yet none of them were what I wanted. Not one of them matched the image in my mind of what the gods should send me. And now, here you are.” He peered up at you, expecting some sort of reaction. But much to his dismay, you stared at him with the same blank expression, despite your thundering heartbeat.

“I’m supposed to believe,” he continued, his voice now low and sharp, “that out of all the women in all the kingdoms, the one who stands before me now—the perfect match for my tastes, my desires—was sent here by the gods?” He laughed bitterly, shaking his head again. “It sounds like a story a fool would believe.”

Your eyes narrowed, "you are a fool to think that the gods are so against you." You snapped, the echo of your works ricocheting throughout the room. Ivar's head consequently snapped up, his eyes widening due to the sheer shock of how you would dare to speak to him in such a way. His lips curved into a small smile; he liked it.

Ivar nodded his head, in turn encouraging you to continue. To which, you obliged. "Ivar, when your father died, my visions got stronger. I have always seen you, since I was a child. The gods are trying to tell me something. Destiny is not kind, Ivar. But it is powerful. And the gods do not make mistakes. I have seen you, in every vision, as clearly as I see you now. You are everything I have ever pictured, everything I have ever longed for, even when I didn’t understand what it meant. And I believe they sent me here because we are meant to shape each other’s fates." Your words came tumbling in a chaotic manner. This is the first time that you had shown any slight inkling of being a human being.

Ivar's grip tightened on the table in front of him. Silence rang in the air, as he quite clearly fought with his thoughts. You almost turned around and walked away, however, Ivar's sudden words broke the quietness.

"Everything you have ever longed for, you say?" His words were low, and teasing. You looked up at him in disbelief; after all that time, and all that tension, that was all that that he could think of?

"You do not understand both the weight and importance of my words." You shook your head. "You must start taking life seriously now, Ivar. You need to focus, if you want to be a leader." You spoke loudly, frustration soaring through your body.

Ivar was both shocked and overwhelmed. He did not understand why he was allowing someone to speak to him in such a way, and yet he knew exactly why. You were everything that he had ever dreamed of, and more. You were telling him your exact thoughts and feelings, while also making him feel as though he were the most important person in the world, and he could not fathom why.

"Prove it to me. Prove that you are who you say." He demanded, now a sense of seriousness planted on his face. He looked at you expectantly, an arrogance in his demeanour, in an attempt to mask his vulnerability.

You stepped forward, closing the distance between you, not faltering in the face of his simmering anger. You had seen his past—his childhood, his memories. The pieces of him that no one else knew, that he himself had buried. It was now time to lay them bare. You began to tell him stories of his childhood; his mother telling him stories about the gods, waiting for his father to come home.

"Lucky guess, perhaps." He said, his eyes darting between your eyes and lips.

You took a deep breathe. "Fine." You said. "You want something more personal?" You asked, your eyes peering up at him. He nodded in response, clearly amused. "You remember the first time it happened," you whispered, watching his face closely. " She was little, and blonde, the complete opposite to me. The first time you gave yourself to someone, thinking it would make you feel more… more like a man. More powerful. But it didn’t. It didn’t feel the way you thought it would. It was messy, uncertain, and for all the bravado you showed, there was a deep, gnawing loneliness underneath. It wasn’t just about taking what you wanted. It was about seeking something more—seeking connection, seeking validation. But that connection didn’t come from anyone but yourself."

Ivar's jaw clenched, he could not believe that you knew the details of his life- personal details, personal memories. His lips parted, as though he had intended to speak. He however, did not.

"And all the women that came after that, and I believe that there were many, were not good enough. You did not enjoy them, any of them." Your voice became low, as you stepped forward, closing the gap between you.

His gaze intensified, a mixture of confusion, longing, and something else—something dangerous—flaring in his eyes.

You smiled softly, a confident smirk curling at the corners of your lips. “You’ve always been searching for me, Ivar. And now, here I am, standing before you. No other woman could ever compare to what we’re meant to have. To what we’ve always had.”

In one swift motion, he reached for your waist and pulled you towards him. He looked at you for a moment, his breath hitching and his body stiffening for a moment. And then, just like that, his lips crashed onto yours with an intensity that left no room for hesitation or doubt.

The kiss was hungry, desperate. His hands found their way to your back, pulling you into him, his touch urgent and possessive. Your knees weakened at his actions, for his touch felt right, and his possessiveness was something that you yearned for.

Your hands tangled in his hair, deepening the kiss as the heat between you both soared higher.

Ivar pulled away just enough to look at you, his lips swollen, eyes dark and searching. He stared at you, as though trying to memorise the very essence of you in that moment. “Do you know what you’ve done?” he rasped, his voice husky, thick with desire and something else—something deeper. No woman had ever made him feel this way; he had never wanted someone so much, respected someone so much.

You barely had time to respond before he kissed you again, more urgently this time, his mouth claiming yours with a raw intensity that left no room for hesitation. His hands moved to the small of your back, lifting you up against him, the need to be closer, to feel every part of you against him growing unbearable.

He pulled away suddenly, causing your eyes to flutter open as you look up at him. His eyes darkened, "You will guide me." He stated, causing you to in turn nod your head. His grip on your waist tightened. "You are mine." He stated, his words laced with emotion. His words caused your stomach to erupt with a feeling unfamiliar to you, nervousness.

“I’ll kill anyone who dares go near you,” he growled. You could feel the raw intensity in his words, the promise of violence that came with them. You had proven yourself to him and it was as though he saw you as something precious, something irreplaceable, and he would protect you with every ounce of his being.

“And if anyone dares doubt your visions,” he continued, his voice low, “if they question the gods or the fate that binds us, they’ll meet the same fate. No one will ever dare challenge you or the truth you carry. No one will harm you.”

[cirtusmistress]

He Follows - Fixation

Mahito is met with someone who is his true opposite, and a mutual curiosity blooms.

Mahito x Reader

Tags: Angst and Feels, Tragedy, Slow Burn, Tragic Romance, Mahito Being an Asshole, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Eventual Romance, Not Beta Read, Mahito POV, Verbal Abuse

AO3 Crosspost

Word Count: 1.7k

You were endlessly fascinating to him. Though he had little interest in humans outside of his experiments, he couldn’t help but be enamored by your every move. You had cursed energy, so no doubt you were aware of his presence everywhere you went. And yet you never looked at him. Never spoke to him. You merely kept pressing on. Why? Was he not interesting enough for you? Surely someone such as himself was far more intriguing than any other human you came across day after day. He stood out, he could tell you that for free. Blue hair and covered in patchwork skin? What human looked like that! 

Mahito had only existed for a short few months. Though he held incredible intellect he was still much like a child. Still growing, learning. Everyday was something new, something fascinating. Learning how to use his cursed technique, interact, manipulate. All things that would aid him in his end goal of creating a world without humans. 

So one day when he was simply people watching - looking for a new playmate to experiment on no doubt, he couldn’t remember - he saw you. Helpless, innocent you. Walking along with your bag of convenience store goods in hand, and with a small gaggle of low level curses parading behind you. Though they weren’t stalking you. No.. They were following you willingly. Mahito watched from his perch up high on a residential building. How when you walked, they followed. How when you stopped at a crosswalk a flyhead landed on your shoulder. And you smiled at it! You weren’t a sorcerer, he could tell from where he sat. Your energy level was far too low. And yet, you somehow commanded those curses. How could it be so?

He had followed you home that day. Thanks to the quick mastery of his own technique, he was able to contort and morph himself into a Fly Head. Well, as close as he could manage. He joined your little parade and followed all the way to your small single bedroom apartment. You paid no mind to the extra curse in your home, simply going about your chores. Mahito watched with the other curses. Had you perhaps used some kind of technique to bribe them? Maybe some kind of cursed spirit manipulation? Finally you sat at your little coffee table and pulled out something from your convenience store bag. Ice cream. Those ones that came in cones, prepackaged and ready to go. You had four, and laid three of them out in front of you and the curses. 

“Go ahead,” You said with a gentle smile, “These ones are for you guys.” Once they had your go ahead, the spirits began eating your offering. Mahito was.. Shocked. Low levels like these couldn’t think for themselves like this. Let alone eat! And yet he buzzed there as the curses who looked like bugs and mutants and grotesque little things nibbled away. Making happy little sounds all the while. You ate your own treat with this.. Stupidly sweet genuine smile on your face. Then you saw him. The odd Fly Head who hadn’t moved. Your head tilted, so did Mahito’s. Then the other way, and he followed. And then you smiled at him, as sweet and genuine as it had been to the others. And something rippled inside him.

“Haven’t seen you before! I didn’t know you all came in different colours!” You laughed, holding out your own ice cream in his direction, “Well welcome. You’re safe here with me. Do you want some? C’mon!” You jiggled your hand in his direction as if you tempt him like a cat you found on the street. Mahito didn’t quite know what he was feeling. Why were you.. Being so kind? To this trash? These low level curses that hardly had brains! Were you stupid? Not knowing these creatures around you could suck you dry, weigh you down, make you miserable? It was overwhelming for Mahito. So he simply gave in and played along. He sampled the treat you offered. It was sweet. And he liked it.

Ever since that encounter Mahito had followed you everywhere you went. To work, the shops, out on excursions. Sometimes in the form of another creature, sometimes lagging behind as just himself. Having studied you up close he’d confirmed none of the lower grades were under your control in some way. Everything they did they were doing willingly. Why? Why did they do it? What did you offer these things that they could not obtain from just being curses? What did you have that he just couldn’t understand? What had you made him feel that day, and every day since?

He was pondering these thoughts at a park on his lonesome one day. He had tired of waiting for you to come out for your lunch break so he’d wandered off. He lazily swung back and forth on a swing, mind putting along as your methods all but tortured him. And then he heard your voice. 

“Hello.” He leaned back in his swing, looking at you upside down. You took a few steps back to make room for him, though you did not run away. “You’re the one who keeps following me right?” You asked, folding your hands in front of you. So you had noticed him! And here he thought himself invisible! Mahito rose his feet as he began to swing again. 

“Perhaps,” He mused, “Who’s asking?” Despite being curious, Mahito was still in many ways a childish being. Straight-forward answers were not in his wheelhouse. 

He heard you step around him and take a seat in the swing to his left, “The person you’ve been following for four weeks.” Your tone was still soft and your voice was like honey on his ears. Why had he waited for you to make contact? “I wasn’t sure if you were human or one of my little friends. You’re not like them.”

“You mean those curses?” Mahito asked, pointing past you. You glanced to see your ‘friends,’ all huddled together underneath a jungle gym. Smart enough to hide from Mahito. His energy was enough to scare them. He had grown that much in a mere four weeks.. 

“Curses?” Your brows quirked up, “I wouldn’t call them curses. They’re harmless once you get to know them.” You looked back at him. Mahito felt his own innocence being reflected in your eyes. You truly had no clue what kind of company you kept. Those sweet little things you so cherished were the bane of many peoples' existences. And yet you looked at them like puppies and kittens. What did you see him as then? What was he in the eyes of someone uninformed on the world of curses?  What was he?

“If you knew I was there why didn’t you talk to me?” Mahito asked. You for once let your smile drop. You looked contemplative. Did you yourself not understand your odd mutual fixation? Perhaps two strangers forever caught in one anothers orbit?

“Because,” You spoke but stopped. Your tongue dragged over your lips and Mahito watched so closely. Every movement, every blink, every twitch. The breaths you took, the pulse of your heart, the vibration of your very atoms. “Because I didn’t want to scare you. You looked so.. Lonely.” That word. Lonely. Mahito knew of loneliness. It often came with the very emotion that birthed him. And he had never once thought he was lonely. He was content wasn’t he? Doing his experiments on his own, finding other intelligent spirits to aid in his end goal. He was not lonely, he was never alone. So why did your eyes hurt him? Why did he once again feel compelled to run? Why was your kindness so terrifying?

“That’s the pot calling the kettle black huh?” Mahito jabbed back, dragging his feet until his swing stopped. “All these weeks I haven’t seen you interact with a single person outside of work! All you do is hang around with weak inferior spirits!” He stood as the words erupted from him. Once again, unequipped to handle these sudden emotions. So he did what children did in these situations. He threw a misdirected tantrum. 

“I am not lonely. Why would I ever be lonely? I have friends! People to talk to, play with, show my work to! You’re the lonely one! Too scared to talk to me for weeks on end! God you’re- You’re so pathetic!” Hate was something Mahito knew. He knew how to hurt people. And the look on your face said it all. Never had your unending kindness been met with such aggression. And part of Mahito loved that look on you. But another part of him wept for you. Love was his opposite. Something Mahito knew he could never comprehend. Not truly. He could pretend. Replicate it. Make copy after copy. But never could he match your wavering, unending love. 

He left before you could reply. He could have killed you. Make you into something cruel and grotesque. But the last shred of curiosity he had for you prevented him. Old sentiment. The first bout of it in his short existence. You were left in that park. And though you had just been verbally abused, your heart cried for the blue haired man. How could he not see how badly he was hurting? You could. You saw it in everyone. Everything. Every past failure, every hurt feeling, you could see it. Feel it. Even in those spirits you loved so much. Even in him. He radiated it. And right now all you could do was hope maybe one day, you could speak to him again. And maybe he wouldn’t be so cruel. 

Mahito couldn’t forget you though. Despite how he tried to bury his feelings. He knew you two were polar opposites. One born from hate, and one born to love. You were his foil. And he couldn’t move on. Not until he learned what it felt like. He was in his nature. He needed to know, to feel, to experiment. So after a few days of respite, he began following you again. Farther away this time, but he was there. Watching. And you kept walking. Waiting.

[raw-law]

Okay. Everyone's asking about what you would change about the world and about the people around...let me challenge you to tell me what is it that you love about the world? What makes life worth living, what makes the world worth saving?

- heavy questions anon here. Let me sign with....🍰

L:

thank you for the ask, anon. i enjoy heavier questions like this. they're fun to contemplate.

for me, i live for the sake of continuing the game. i enjoy challenges. i especially enjoy winning said challenges. people can talk about parties or sex all they like, but the greatest thrill to me will always be cornering the opponent into the palm of your hands. maybe that's a little sadistic, but it's true to me.

if i was to tell someone else what makes life worth living though, i'd say people. people are interesting to watch. it's hard for me to truly hate anybody when we're all just mere ants jumbled together in one large cage. some think that makes the world all the more terrifying, but i think it's special. i like watching ants. i like watching people. we're very alike. that's not a bad thing.

Light:

This question is certainly a fun one to ponder over. If I'm being honest, my answer is the same as L. I couldn't ever bear to live in this world if it was the same thing every single day, and there was nothing to truly occupy me. The monotony would kill me.

I suppose that's what I live for: the thrill of the game. Whether it's being the pursuer or the pursued; it doesn't matter to me. In a way, I think that being the pursued is even more exhilarating---escaping your enemy's clutches by a hair's breadth, outsmarting them from beginning till the end: this may be more than a little unusual, but I think I'd love it. That thrill of playing the game.

And what makes the world saving? I think it's because of humanity's unpredictability. On one hand, we've slowly destroyed the universe ever since the pre-industrialisation era, and killed millions of our own kind out of pure hatred, or worse, for our own convenience; but on the other, there are people organising protests against these kinds of things, people standing up for what's right and what's not. That's what gives me the hope that maybe, one day, the world will indeed become a better place (though that sounds clichéd), and so that's what makes this rotten world so worth saving.

Thanks for the ask, Anon. I really enjoyed your question.

[herrscherofmagic]

A Home Lost, A Home Found

I just made a post with this idea, and thought "wait I can just write the story right now", so I did ^.^

Since I put this up on AO3 I figured I'd share it here, too!

Crimson eyes met azure eyes once more. For a split second, the figure wondered if the child before it could hear the fear in its voice.

“Listen to me very carefully, and I promise that you and Natasha will not die today.”

.

One era ends, a new era begins. A certain special someone is left behind with nothing but her precious memories, and she must find new meaning in this long and empty life of hers.

When the Herrscher of Finality descended upon Earth, it took merely hours for nearly everything Seele loved to be seized away from her. But in those final moments, she still had her other self, and together they made a great sacrifice to give humanity one final chance.

As she collapsed against her comrade, Seele’s hand slipped off the handle of the Abyss Flower and fell onto the broken ground. In those final moments, she could hear a voice cry out to her before being consumed by the violent cracks and rumbles of earth-shattering lighting, before the sound faded away into silence.

The light in those azure eyes peacefully dimmed to nothing, another life lost to this sudden and tragic end of the Current Era. But in a small room suspended in the void, a pair of crimson eyes frantically looked around and loud cries were left unanswered. In those final moments, Seele realized she was alone.

.

.

.

“The Stigma Awakened holds remarkable value, but they’re only the intersection of stigmata and humans, and the most primitive guarantee of Project Stigma.”

When she first heard these words Seele thought nothing of them- pointless philosophy, disconnected from reality and a waste of her time. How cruel it was that these words would replay in her mind over and over like a broken record, Seele now understanding the true meaning behind them.

From the first moments she came into being, Seele knew she was an “other”, that this was not her life to live. But as they passed day by day in the orphanage, as they fell into the Sea of Quanta, as they fought through the Theatre of Domination, and as they faced Finality together, Seele began to believe that she belonged.

Even if it was not her reality, she could still see the world through the azure eyes of a gentle soul.

Without that fragile tether, the Stigma now found herself back where she belonged. A Stigma Space, a dream where time is distorted. The checkered floor that once served as a refuge now became a timeless prison, where this Stigma would desperately cling to her memories of Seele Vollerei.

.

.

.

When Finality brought one era to an end, it also marked the beginning of a new era. Civilization would form once more, built up by the history and knowledge of generations of humanity. Stigmata serve as records of this process, and so as humans once more walked the Earth and began telling tales, one particular Stigma once more caught glimpses of the real world.

Now that she could perceive the world as she once did, this Stigma saw just how much time had passed. She had never bothered to keep count, and she wasn’t even sure if she was isolated for a moment or an eternity.

In this new era the Stigma kept her distance, watching from afar as generation after generation passed by­— though every now and then she would appear before whichever host was alive at that time, and offer a sliver of her power. She had little interest in meddling with the messy affairs of others, so many people who bore this Stigma lived their lives without ever knowing it was there.

This was her new reality, and the Stigma told herself that she was content to live this way. Even if Finality descended once more she would simply move on to another era anyways, so she didn’t care what fate befell her hosts. They were nothing more than a convenient means by which she could eavesdrop on humanity’s progress.

So it was until the moment when she felt her own fear for the first time in this new era.

.

.

.

“Get behind me!”

The cracks of gunshots were deafening in the ears of the crying child, but they did not scare her as much as the approaching roars of Honkai beasts. As another beast cried out, she tightened her grip on the leg of her adoptive mother.

"Shit." Natasha swore under her breath again as the rifle began to click; the magazine was empty yet not a single Honkai beast fell. She backed up until she was halted by the cracked wall behind her. Before she could even turn to run the other way, yet another monster appeared.

They were trapped.

In those final moments, countless thoughts raced through Natasha’s mind. She wondered where she went wrong, she cursed her misfortune, she fervently prayed for a miracle.

In those final moments, the crying child shut her eyes as if she were tucked in bed and hiding from the monsters in her bedtime stories. With eyes closed, she did not notice a distant gaze that fell upon her.

In those final moments, the cries of beasts gave way to silence. The air grew still, and the warmth she desperately clung to had disappeared. She slowly opened her teary eyes and saw a single figure standing alone in an impossibly black darkness.

“Am I… dead?” Still dazed from the sudden sensory deprivation, the child could only muster a gentle whisper.

No reply.

With her tiny, tender hand the crying child rubbed tears from her eyes. The child blinked once, twice, and now clearly saw the face of the lone figure.

It had her face, it had her hair. But unlike her it had crimson eyes which stared at her, as if it were peering into her soul, as if it were about to devour it any moment now.

“W-w-what are you?” The child’s heartbeat grew louder and louder in the silence as she stumbled onto the ground, breaking into tears and ugly sobbing.

Tch. How obnoxious.

With crossed arms the figure closed its eyes and took one step forward.

“You are pathetic.”

Another step.

“Weak.”

Another.

“A coward that can’t do anything to protect what she loves most dearly.”

Now a mere couple of feet away, the figure towered over the child before her. Eyes still closed, it took in a deep breath. “But this time… things will be different.”

Crimson eyes met azure eyes once more. For a split second, the figure wondered if the child before it could hear the fear in its voice.

“Listen to me very carefully, and I promise that you and Natasha will not die today.”

The Honkai beast pulled back its limb; a massive lance which would pierce Natasha clean. She held her rifle up as a shield even if it’d do nothing to soften the blow. What more could she do?

As the lance flew forward towards her, Natasha shut her eyes tight. She did not notice that the child behind her let go of her leg. She did not see the smile that crept onto the child’s face, nor the blade which began to form in the child’s hand.

One second had passed and a grinding screech rang out, a noise like the scraping of a shovel against rock.

Two seconds had passed but the lance did not touch Natasha.

Three seconds had passed and she heard the shrieks of one, two, three Honkai beasts. Natasha tensed at the sound and looked up to see what was happening.

Ten seconds had passed, and then there was silence.

Natasha usually felt no fear when facing Honkai beasts, but this time was different. She felt fear for herself, but especially for the young child which was with her when the beasts attacked… but she never imagined that she would be frightened by the child herself.

The child that was sobbing and clinging to Natasha merely moments ago now stood in place of the pack of Honkai beasts. Silicon carapaces lay around her, violently torn apart. In the girl’s hand was a massive scythe that was even taller than her; it was a dull metallic grey with red accents and what appeared to be a single bloodied eye glaring at Natasha. It seemed like the weight of the weapon should crush the little girl, yet she effortlessly held it.

Head still turned away from Natasha, the girl spoke. It was nearly the same voice that would meekly ask for a bedtime story or politely ask for another serving of cake. But there was no trace of her usual innocence in these words; instead they seemed to drip with venom.

“Listen closely, Natasha. Don’t take my help for granted.” The girl turned her head to the side, eyes still covered by the sides of her hair.

“Take better care of Seele. If you don’t, I will know. And if you let anyone or anything harm her…”

“… I will never forgive you.”

[unispiredunicorn2]

A THING OF BEAUTY

Pairing: V/River Ward

Rating: Explicit

Summary: V and Johnny have an interesting time in the records store before they head to the hospital to pick up Randy. The situation gets slightly tense, and both V and River realize something. Their wait turns mildly smutty.

Read on AO3

BAD THINGS

V had finally managed to shake off River by suggesting they divide their errands — she’d get the album while he took care of the groceries, conveniently masking her ulterior motives. As River melted into the crowd, oblivious to her plans, V felt the crackle of anticipation igniting her veins before pressing forward through the bustling market, her steps echoing determination.

Little did River know that V had gone to extraordinary lengths to acquire the special edition of the new Tainted Overlord album, signed by all members. She had tapped into her web of contacts, traded favors, and paid a substantial sum of eddies to secure this gift, which awaited her at the store.

V knew River well enough to realize that he wouldn’t have spent the scratch on what was deemed a luxury, especially now, when money was tight, and all of it went into necessities. She couldn’t deny the extravagance of this gift. It indeed, was a luxury, especially for someone in River’s situation, but not for her.

She had enough eddies to share and help ease his financial burdens. She had tried, oh how she had tried. But his stubborn pride was a formidable barrier, determined in its refusal to accept her help. V couldn’t fathom it fully; she couldn’t wrap her mind around the complexities of his adamant pride. She remembered all too well the days spent on the streets, her stomach gnawing with hunger and her body shivering with cold. If someone had approached her then, offering help, she would have snatched it in a heartbeat.

River and his family weren’t hungry, lacking in clothing or a roof over their heads; however, they were teetering on the edge of financial stability. The small income they scraped together barely covered the essentials, leaving little room for anything beyond mere survival. So V couldn’t understand, not entirely. But she knew enough to recognize that same pride, the same fierce stubbornness that made him refuse her help, would also make him hesitant to accept this gesture. Thus the secrecy, the careful planning, and the question that gnawed at the corners of her mind — the one she failed to find the answer to.

“So, what will you tell the boyfriend when he starts asking questions?” Johnny materialized by the stairs that led into the basement, accompanied by a swirling haze of smoke, a twinkle of amusement glinting in his eyes.

“That I know some people?” V flashed a hesitant smile. “That some gonk owed me a favor? I don’t know. I’ll think of something.”

“Thin lies for something like this.” Johnny tsked, shaking his head. “Come on, V. Boyfriend’s not an idiot. He’ll see right through you,” Johnny reluctantly admitted, a flash of discomfort distorting his features. “You couldn’t pick some dumb gonk to fuck. You had to pick a detective,” he added mockingly. “Now you’re in trouble.”

V sighed, massaging her forehead. “Are you here just to fuck with me, or do you actually have a solution?”

[4aceclover]

In my humble opinion I always thought that Sun Heart was Marc and Rain Piercer was Nathaniel

(I also love the ending and how they basically acknowledge and address how LGBTQ+ people are literally attacked for no good reason, (just because they love who they love or for merely existing). It's even worse because they're kids, so this was probably their first time ever dealing with something like this, because everyone around them has been so supportive. So to actively have to experience the hate LGBTQ+ people go through every day just for existing it must have been a real shock to them)

And to everyone out there saying that this was a bad idea I beg to differ, The only two people who can't know each other's identities are Ladybug and Cat Noir and as long as nobody on the outside of their team learns their identities they should be fine

(Remember Luka knows too.)

Everyone wants to say that this is very similar to ephemeral but do we all seem to conveniently forget that Alia and nino also share these kinds of secrets with one another. When they got their identities revealed Yes it was out of their control but when Alia became Rena Fertive she later on told nino the truth she didn't keep that secret from him

(Plus when Marinette has that conversation with Alia about telling nino about her second role she doesn't get angry at her she understands why she did it, she trusts her friends with these miraculouses you really think she didn't expect them to do something like this, Heck everyone knows Alix's identity even Lila herself)

This might seem bad on the surface but in reality this is not a bad thing for these two to do

The only reason why Nathaniel even reveals himself in the first place was because he didn't want Marc to worry about him, because he could tell based off that comment "I don't want you throwing yourself into danger for me cuz you're not a superhero" that he was worried and he didn't want to worry his boyfriend That's how you know they really love each other

Are you seriously going to tell me that Rose and Julica wouldn't have done the same thing or what about Ivan and Milan

It's not their fault as the story foreshadowed this ending anyway they shouldn't have to lose their powers because of their love after all the original ending was foreshadowing this ending the entire time

(I understand why people thought this was about Marinette Adrian but no this was about them)

They didn't make a mistake here I actually wholeheartedly agree with this choice of theirs. The only thing we should be concerned about isn't them revealing their identities but Lila taking an interest in Nathaniel in the first place because if she's taking an interest in one of our heroes (like Gabe did To Luka) then that's what we should be worried about not them revealing their identities this was going to happen sooner or later

As Rena Rouge and Carapace showed us if you truly love someone you don't hide these kinds of secrets from them

Today is a great day to be a fan of Marc and Nathaniel

[mitigatingacademics]

{10.13.2024}

'Snackle' boxes because vacation priorities.

Law school applications are DONE.

[I didn't get to cross this off the list as soon as anticipated because I failed to realize that the third of the three remaining applications *also* required a supplemental writing submission. Not to panic, though, as it was merely an inquiry about how one would make online classes work for them. A few edits to the document prepared for another school asking how one would make time for 30 hours of study a week and we were good to go.]

Issue 5 is completed.

[Thank God, because I can't handle any more of John Marshall and friends *actually* trying to argue that 'necessary' is definitionally interchangeable with 'convenient,' 'beneficial,' and 'useful.' Words have MEANINGS, sir. There's literally nothing to prevent you from handing down whatever stretch of judicial interpretation makes the Constitution say what you want it to say. So just do that. There's no need for this insulting gaslighting re: 'Does 'necessary' really imply 'necessary'? ...indeed it does?? ...and, like, when you talk about these 'approved authors' who have a 'common use' of 'necessary' to mean 'merely' 'convenient' *or* 'essential' (which are FAR from the same thing!)...who are these people?! ... Nevermind. It doesn't matter.

Issue 6 calls upon Wickard v. Filburn which is one of the first foundational SCOTUS cases that really got me interested in Constitutional law. It will be nice to have something I'm looking forward to in order to help motivate me post-vacation.]

Robespierre is packed.

I owe one to my regular coworker who, back from his own vacation this week, consented to stay over and wait for a very late train when *I* was actually working the shift that would usually be the one to stay. We hadn't seen railroad drama like that in quite awhile. The scheduled 3am got in about 8'oclock. It sat behind a freight train with cars on fire - cars once removed, toppled over and blocked the main - requiring heavy equipment to clear the right of way.

This caused *all kinds* of problems for us and our passengers, not the least of which was what to do about the connecting bus that takes connections from three different trains. Coworker was the real MVP. It's because of him that I was able to get all of the things accomplished.

Super honorable mention goes to fav coworker who sent, via her husband, a souvenir for me from Disneyland! It's this *STUPID CUTE* Mickey ears train conductor hat. As much as was possible at that given moment, my day was absolutely made. Pics to follow.

Was so busy with aforementioned accomplishments this morning that I missed Liz on Meet The Press. She was fantastic, per usual. I love her the way she loves that blouse she's worn at her last five public appearances. 😂

I so appreciate her tenacity and consistency both for all the good her work is doing generally and so as I have no reason to be embarrassed about the personal statement I submitted to five different law schools telling them she’s my inspiration.

I've packed enough clothes to be away for a month and snacks like they don't have food in Tennessee.

Must be time for a road trip!

[etchofsqetch]

If there really is some underground culture of cheating and debauchery, it would look something like this:

All of the husbands would know, and either be okay with it; because they were doing it too (as in behind their wife’s back;) or, were perfectly okay with it because they were perverts themselves, or into threesomes, or both. Society in general would be more relaxed towards this sort of behavior, and it would therefore rub off on the children. None of that would matter because kids don’t have the capacity to really make sense of sex until after high school. It may be happening younger these days; but when I grew up it was senior year in all the movies I watched.

I bet I could tell what the sexual preferences of the husbands are based by on how they partner with their wife. For example, a husband who allows his wife to have over whomever, whenever I would say would not be as gay as the one who likes it when his wife brings over her guy friends, and is probably fine just watching when they do stuff. Granted these group things rarely happen in real life, I find it interesting to think that what people talk about leads to this thought process, keeping words like “gay”, “retarded” and “stupid” at the center of one’s foreward thought processes.

This centralized thinking about one or a few things seems to be similar to experiments performed on humans back in the fifties and sixeties. Which may not be too farfetched for certain areas; but most towns wouldn’t have the organizational capability as those in larger cities. Less government emoloyees, and less money for communications equipment would make it harder for smaller towns to communicate amongst each other quickly and securely. So the groups themselves would be confined to those living in a certain community. Those who live close to each other and have children for example, who go to the same schools as one another, shop at the same supermarkets, etcetera.

The sort of trust required to enter into a relationship of this caliber takes time to build, so the odds of allowing someone into one of these communities would be reduced; due to the fact that communal sex is common amongst the members of these groups, we should remember that acting carnally, habitually breeds base instinct in one’s thought process as the first option. It simply becomes more convenient for the brain to choose the route that happens the most frequently. When decisions are made quickly using these base instincts we see a trend towards violence as a solution. When community is involved in persecution of individuals who disturb this peace, solutions and made together and need more data in experience to even determine if these punishments help or hurt the individual.

For example, public shaming of a person will just make that person a shameful person. As one who hangs out with successful people usually becomes successful, it could be easy to destroy someone with insults and slurs that make this person focus on what a bad person they are. It is much more difficult to congratulate someone you hate that it is to shame them; but, imagine what it would do for them. The point obviously isn’t to cure; so anything that would make the person insecure would work.

The commonality of this actually happening would only make sense in communities that choose to rehabilitate their own members. It must be observed for the hypersexual and this anarchist type of community to have any correlation to each other; whether one begets the other is merely conjecture at this point at least to my knowledge of the subject. In fact, all of these thoughts are kind of new to me. I seem to be hearing a lot more on television now than when I was younger talking about sex as though it’s not something private and special. I was getting old when I turned 24; I doubt I have much to worry about at my age now.. 😂

From my personal observations, these hypersexualized societies only exist on the tv, or internet as fantasies to be sold to the lucky individual who happens to be surfing his phone like some dreadlock haired Hawaiian on the tides at Kahului bay in Maui. Most people tend to hide their sex lives and portray themselves as individuals who prefer sports and outdoor entertainment. It’s mostly for show or to fill in the time between work; but that’s a subject for a later date. Work culture.. I love it; but it’s ultimately more challenging to pursue art, especially if one wants to make a living from their creation(s).

It’s amazing to see how so much of this correlates to Hollywood.. I wonder what it’s like to live in Beverly Hills..

[scorbleeo]

Book Chat: Minor Detail

by Adania Shibli and Elisabeth Jaquette (translator)

Source: Google Images

Minor Detail begins during the summer of 1949, one year after the war that the Palestinians mourn as the Nakba—the catastrophe that led to the displacement and exile of some 700,000 people—and the Israelis celebrate as the War of Independence. Israeli soldiers murder an encampment of Bedouin in the Negev desert, and among their victims they capture a Palestinian teenager and they rape her, kill her, and bury her in the sand.

Many years later, in the near-present day, a young woman in Ramallah tries to uncover some of the details surrounding this particular rape and murder, and becomes fascinated to the point of obsession, not only because of the nature of the crime, but because it was committed exactly twenty-five years to the day before she was born. Adania Shibli masterfully overlays these two translucent narratives of exactly the same length to evoke a present forever haunted by the past.

ISBN: 9780811229074 (2020) | Source: Goodreads

How Do I Even Do This?

I went into Minor Detail blind and I can't tell if it was a mistake because even after being confused and afterwards thinking I got some explanation off the synopsis, I was still confused. It was until I was somewhere in chapter 2 that I finally understood what was happening. Or at least, I finally linked the synopsis with the book I was reading.

I hate to say this but this book was not for me. I wanted to feel so much emotions, it became stifling to read Minor Detail. Unfortunately, because of the way it was written, it was not easy to feel. My experience was merely reading the words, comprehending the meaning and moving on. This experience was made worse because be it the writing style or the translation, it was very descriptive writing. Unfortunately, how does one connect with the story if the extremely descriptive writing just does not allow any connection to happen? Imagine reading a textbook of a subject you have interest in, it is not unnecessarily boring, but you're just reading texts and gaining extra/new knowledge. That connection a reader likes with a book was missing here.

I'm not exactly saying Minor Detail was a bad book, nor am I saying the writing style is bad. I do like the writing style. Sadly, this book just did not give me what I was truly looking for.

Rating: ★★☆☆☆

More translated fiction here: Convenience Store Woman | Cursed Bunny | The Three-Body Problem

[lucheng-shu]

I have a query, and do feel free to disregard it should it not suit. In fact, it's hardly efficient me asking at all, and in some ways I see myself getting too attached, but I cannot seem to stop myself.

I have an associate who is interested in learning sylvan cookery, but I myself never learnt any recipes. It wasn’t my station, you understand. Could you possibly tell me any recipes that would be of use to them? Or, more generally, any that you would deem adequate. They are a talented chef, passionate, and while I could simply hand them off to a new friend ally of mine, I feel reluctant to do so. Do not worry for their ability, though some ingredients more native to the feywild may be harder to source.

What foods do you like? Writing this, I realise I don't know. I owe you to be known in that, at least.

6.11.1069, 19:13

On the contrary, I’m overjoyed you asked. Thank you for thinking of me, friend.

In my recent stay here, I’ve been enjoying more Tanxue food than usual; my dealings beforehand were mostly with courts belonging to the Gaofeng school of thought. The lovely people here have been treating me to ginger and scallion crab, and it’s simply delightful! I don’t want to fill the pages (is that possible?) with the recipe, out of mere politeness, so I’m sure that simply the ingredients will do, if your friend is truly so talented. It is not a challenge; I believe you, you would not so clearly lie to me like that. I do prattle on, so here are the ingredients:

crab (live or frozen)

ginger

green onion

clove garlic

cornstarch

corn oil (or other neutral oil)

oil (reserved from frying crab pieces)

water

oyster sauce

soy sauce

tamari soy sauce

white pepper

sugar

cooking wine

sesame oil

As for Gaofeng cuisine I enjoy, an old friend of mine would always prepare great feasts when my partner and I would visit. He needed the meat to grow, and it’s hard to get a hold of meat up in the mountain, so more often than not I would… conveniently be busy for most of the meal. Many of the disciples would cave and eat before I returned. In the end, I would be left with the pea jelly and rice noodles. That is to say, I have a soft spot for simple food like that, and it’s not such an honour down here, but when I see disciples eat chicken feet I can’t help but be reminded of his grin. He’d have it stuck in his teeth for days.

[doodledork01]

Fucked around; tried seeing what would happen if Kenny and Knifey somehow had a child, and here we are! I made the little ankle-biter in Gacha Life 2. You can draw her in your style, if ya want! (if you don't know what to do with her; you can make something where she meets her grandma; kenny's dad, for the first time?)

Name: Sydney

Age: [Unknown; you're allowed to make it convenient to the storyline ya got goin]

Species: Gatlian Cross-Breed (currently unknown to me whatever the hell Knifey is)

Gun/Gatlian Variant (currently undiscovered; until now): Grappling Hook

Personality: Skittish, and rather talkative; once you get her to open up. She has crippling anxiety that her friends might ditch her at the slightest mistake she makes. She's rather optimistic; trying to see the bright-side of things. However; due to one of her fathers being from a species biologically equipped for murder; she's extremely volatile! A ticking time-bomb, if you will. She's actually really nice, and it's easy for her to tell if something's wrong; a good companion if you need someone to talk to.

Use; if she was present in-game: Makes getting around dense forestry much easier, and the hooks can actually pierce a material if it's soft enough. Can't really pierce more than flesh or cardboard; due to Sydney still being young. If equipped; she increases the range at which enemies can be heard; you can hear chittering, when she hears a potential threat; warning the player to tread carefully. Her hooks can clasp together; forming a spear-like thing, impaling the enemy, and drag the enemy closer; whilst eliminating half of their health; if they're just a grunt. She'll often spew random facts about the local Flora and Fauna; which'll actually come in handy later. Some plants can be used to heal the players & gatlians involved, possibly upgrade the suit, and even aid in weakening mini-bosses/legitimate bosses.

Extra Information: She fucking hates how people will think she'll be nothing more than a ruthless killer; merely because of who one of her parents are. She's actually scarily intelligent for her age, and she's friendly! However; one of her fathers (knifey) tries to encourage her to embrace the killer instinct. She (respectfully) rejects that, and she's trying to be peaceful. Sydney has a habit of being jittery when she's nervous, and being talkative.

Academics (Social Life, and Grades): She's socially awkward, and gets really happy when someone doesn't pick on her for not being a pure-blooded Gatlian, or is just willing to listen to her rant about exotic plants. Her interest in plants is why she took her school's Agricultural Program up! However; speaking of her getting picked on... She doesn't want to tell her dads; because she knows that Knifey might turn a school-day into a fucking masacre if anyone hurt his baby. She actually pulls A's and B's; except in math, as her math teacher is a little bit of a bitch (and math sucks for me to).

She only has one close friend; the person she's friends with is actually fairly well-known; due to them winning multiple art competitions.

This is really good! I’m not doing any free requests right now, so I probably won’t draw it, but you did a great job creating the character, keep it up!

[pretty-little-martyr]

hi I'm sorry if this is. idk awkward but I saw your tags on that post about changing how people talk about getting gynecologic care and you might want to look into vaginismus. It's a condition that causes those muscles to tighten up often very painfully anytime any sort of penetration is attempted. Physical therapy, dilators and muscles relaxers can help but ofc its something that should be discussed with a doctor to make sure you're getting the correct treatment. ALSO! You can request laughing gas for pap smears and other invasive gyno procedures. It is something they do. Usually if you tell them any insertion at all is extremely painful it'll be offered but if not you can ask for it. Some places might be able to do full sedation but I think that'd just depend on the facilities since that would require an anesthesiologist as well

and also vaginismus is like extremely super common (iirc at least 20% of people with vaginas experience it at some point in their lives) the problem is just that nobody talks about it because well. Society. this is not something abnormal or wrong with you in a bad way, it's just a medical condition that you happen to have and need accommodations for. if that helps at all

hey thank you for reaching out fr, it's not weird at all! ive been trying to figure out if it's that or just general "pelvic floor problems" whatever that entails. im getting HRT/gender care from Planned Parenthood these days, and they have told me i would Have to get another exam/smear next year (which i am terrified about tbqh) and they've mentioned they'd give me something or other to help, probably laughing gas like you've said (which ive never actually had).

i did tell that gyno that i'd never put anything in me and that even tampons were horribly painful, and their reaction was to act like i was crazy and lying and that never happens to anybody lmao the woman literally stared at me as if she was waiting for me to say 'haha just kidding' and asked me like 3 times over if i was sure i was a virgin at my big age (21 at the time). even after i was crying and bleeding and having a panic attack they were incredibly apathetic towards me. so! yeah. to be quite honest i'm not interested in dilators or physical therapy--not to knock them, i just want my whole shit removed, so why put in that effort and (probably) gain new trauma from putting things in me, yknow? the mere concept kinda makes me ill. im considering looking into surgery sometime soon-ish. my family might lose their shit about it, but, i dont think they can stop me now that i live by myself, and unless their insurance blocks it, i should be good to go on that.

anyway. id be so down to get fully sedated for it. put me under for like 30 minutes to get all that shit done and i dont have to be present for it or acknowledge it at all thanks. also might help in general, if the muscle tightening is something semi-voluntary/if that even is my issue. ive also considered if i just have a very small hole. i think thats referred to as a neovagina? i dunno.

i really appreciate these asks <3 very kind of you and. somehow i did not really register the potential of asking a different doctor about their thoughts on it i guess ASDFGHJK i just sort of. the initial event was traumatizing enough i still sometimes have nightmares, which is super dope, and remembering it too hard makes me feel very violated, so really i try not to talk about it so much. i was super fucking stoned last night, is probably why i even left those tags jhgvbhnjkm.

tldr thank you for your kindness and i am really hoping my next exam will feature me either Unconscious or Off My Ass On Laughing Gas Or Something. if theres some chance i HAVE to keep my equipment rather than getting surgery i may genuinely look into therapies just for my own convenience but beyond that i just really ... really do not want any items up in there.

[uraniumbunny]

i never named biden, sorry i don't understand what you meant there. I meant that, if we're gonna talk about invasion=bad then half of the countries participating should be banned, bc let's face it, there isn't only one bad guy here. and in the end, what the fuck does it have to do with sport, if you ban one and not other, then what happens is that athletes themselves will assume a political position bc they think "welp, i have to fight against this guy from israel who's participating despite being an ex soldier" etc etc, so they manifest bc OF COURSE they know there's something wrong and terribly unfair here. the Olympic committee is sooo proud of themselves banning russia, but then again, this isn't even about Russia at all, this is whole political interest, bc you see, they're hypocrites, so of course other nations will feel compelled to protest bc "how come they ban them but not these" and so on. So what I believe is: if you want to make it political, then make it political with everyone, but once again that would leave half of the countries out bc they all looove to make war and humanitarian conflict; so then my humble opinion is that they should've let it be sport and only sports. But noo. They need that political position to let you know who controls the world and who owns and constructs the truth. and that's what is dangerous. bc the truth is something you can mold and construct according to you convenience if you have enough power to do it. Of course i totally agree with you that if you're not friends with usa then you're against them, on the other hand, I'm well aware that the UN is an international mafia and france is one of the countries who love to finance war (alongside usa, uk, etc). that's why i said political reasons bc why one is condemned but the other isn't. who chooses who's bad and who isn't? it's all political interest, yet they all have a stone to throw. don't forget it's not about reality but about control, financial power, image and media manipulation as well. also, if you ask me, strictly speaking about the Olympics, russia is a Olympic power, historically always among the best nations in Olympic sport so yeah i also believe they got rid of them bc of that. for propaganda and marketing reasons as well. but that's only the tip od an iceberg where russia is only a mere component. the whole ucraine conflict is just an excuse, but once again, while they discuss their political moves behind a desk there's people suffering both sides and that should never be taken for granted. war does that: it creates confusion, twists reality and makes the world witness of the horror as if it were mere entertainment. we all think we can have an opinion on it but the reality is that the only ones who can judge and tell the truth are the ones suffering in first person day after day the horror of war.

why did they ever put all those trans people on the olympics inauguration when the olympics are inherently hostile to everyone who doesn't comply with their specific definitions of men and women.

[cammslush]

6REEZE; each member has their own special and adorable darling (but you don't know they think that way about you) - Part 2

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Content warning(s): Yandere themes (overprotectiveness, possessiveness)

Let me know if I missed anything.

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Part II: Center - Aether

"We're having a concert today, I'm sure you know. It's going to be live on our YouTube, please watch it there instead."

Aether tried his best to hide his signature golden strands of hair from the light, underneath his dark hood. He speaks quietly into the receiver of the payphone conveniently just a few blocks from the concert venue. But with him being pretty much the face of 6REEZE…

"Hey, I recognize that golden hair anywhere! Is that…?"

"Sorry, talk to you after the show. Bye."

It was almost an impossible task trying to keep a low profile.

You were a strange-fated soul who met Aether during a photoshoot for a magazine. Well, he was hard to ignore. The brightest member of 6REEZE, that was him!

"I'm ____, pleasure to be your acquaintance," you held out your pretty hand to him. Why did you introduce your name? He already knew who you were: an actor. But some part in his heart sort of…thumped, at the thought of you saying your name.

It's a very common thing for celebrities to meet in joint projects. It's also a common thing for said celebrities to become close friends…or even fall in love.

"No…I shouldn't fall in love. I can't fall in love…" Aether almost wanted to rip his heart out the same day he met you. Idols always sing love songs, but they are not allowed to love. So then…

Why? Why does his heart beat so quickly whenever he thinks of you? Why is it that his chest hurts everytime he sees your face in an advertisement, or your acting in some unpopular movie? Why, why, why…

But he can't just leave you in his "list of merely recognizable people", not after you offered so much company and kindness.

“I met Aether from 6REEZE during a photoshoot once,” you carelessly said in an interview, “And then we actually became friends! He’s actually a pretty nice person! And his hair looks way brighter in person. Go watch their live concerts to see it for yourself!”

Do actors live in a different world from idols? You’re so good at acting in shows, from what he can tell. Why can’t you act like you have never met him before?

Don’t you get it? Your adorable face will get mauled by a horde of crazy idol fans if you admit that! He can’t let that happen!

Venti is so careless, he lets the existence of his "bestest friend" be known to the public with such little care of their wellbeing — Aether is different! He isn't careless one bit.

Despite being your friend, you really have no actual way of contacting him besides a phone number that he asked you to memorize, and he also asked you not to ever input this number on your personal phone. You thought it was a little strange, but heeded his requests nonetheless. Perhaps it was a strange tradition.

But Aether isn't mean to you or anything, yes? He is one of the nicest, brightest people you've ever met in your life! He'd never want you to get hurt, that's the whole point of his actions.

He himself has perfectly memorized all of your information, like your phone number, or your address. It's only, purely because he believes he isn't allowed to save any of that info on his phone, not because he feels the need to know every single little detail about you.

It would be bad if any fan found out about his close association with another celebrity, right? The only, only option left is to store everything about you safely inside his mind.

Under absolutely no circumstances should anyone know you exist in his life.

That is knowledge available only to him.

"Aether, I was recruited to act in an advertisement, and they're still looking for more actors. Marketing opportunity for 6REEZE! Just say the word and I can recommend anyone who's interested to the Director," you spoke to him over the payphone.

Aether wanted to smack himself for how much he misses hearing your voice. It was hard to tell his inner conflicts, thanks to his bright and sunny outer image.

Looks like there's no other choice, "I just asked, buuut no one else is interested, so I'll take any role."

He cannot even allow his fellow 6REEZE members know.

"Oh, okay. Also, I'm watching the concert at home. Everything you guys did was so cool! Especially at the song 'Let the Wind Lead'...My Archon, all I can say is you guys shone very brightly."

Aether wants to keep hearing you talk. But at the same time…

"Yeah…The intermission is about to end. Let's stop here," without even telling you, he hung up the phone and promptly deleted the conversation from his contact history.

With a sigh, he left the break room.

No, no…he can't let what happened to Lumine be repeated with you. Nobody deserves that.

It's not because solely his attention should be on you — "get your head back on track, Aether!" It's because you'll be in grave danger if anyone else found out. He's told himself time and time again, someone as precious as you should never be laid a finger on.

If anything did happen to you, he might as well as die right then and there with you.

"...Aether? Hello?" You spoke on the other end, confused.

You're such a great actor, aren't you? He knows, he's watched almost every piece of film or advertisement you've played a role in, no matter how unpopular the show, no matter how insignificant the role.

So please, act like you've never heard of 6REEZE. Act like you've never even heard of Aether, in public.

That way he can have you all for himself!

[pariahsparadise]

of music and marriages

nav. | m.list

requested by anon: Hello author ! I wanna request something for Edmund pevensie x fem reader. The reader is in an arranged marriage with him and she takes awhile to warm up to people, but she loves to play the piano. The rest is up to you if you want to do this.Take care, have a good day/night 💛

wc: 1.3k

pairings: edmund pevensie x fem!reader

warnings: unedited work, kissing

a/n: this is probably not exactly what you wanted but i did try my best, and you cannot tell me that drawing up a contract for a fucking marriage is not something edmund would do. i won't have it.

You had been married to Edmund Pevensie for exactly a day before he approached you with a long scroll, every inch of it filled with his neat scrawls, sometimes spiralling and spilling from this edge or that.

“What is this?” you had asked, upon finding the parchment shoved into your hands. 

“A contract,” the Just King had stated matter-of-factly, squinting as your fingers creased the document. “I think you’ll find it rather agreeable, it simply states the conditions of our arrangement, and-”

“You mean our marriage,” you had cut him off, but there was no anger or malice in your words. Why should there be? He was perfectly right in everything he said, this marriage was simply one born out of convenience, and it appeased both of your countries and families. 

Ed simply nodded at your interjection, flicking off imagined dust from his jacket sleeves as he watched you read through the list, averting his eyes when they fell on your frame, the only thing hanging off it was your nightgown. 

“This will do,” you informed your husband, having read through the terms. And they would, really, Edmund hadn’t asked too much of you. Public appearances here and there, dinner together three times a week so the servants wouldn’t suspect anything or gossip too much, a minimum of two dances any time the Pevensies decided to host a ball. It was all fine by you.

What wasn’t fine, however, was the fact that you were going to have separate bedchambers.

“What about procuring another heir?” you had said, rather bluntly, watching with a tinge of amusement as Edmund’s face faintly turned whiter, before reddening, his eyes aghast.

“What- what about it?” he had sputtered indignantly. “I have 3 siblings, we will have no need for it, the only thing our marriage requires us to do is be merely tolerable of each other, there is no reason for any more than that-”

“But there is, my king,” you interrupted him again, earning a small scowl. Pressing on, you insisted, “I have no siblings now, do I? One of the main reasons my father agreed to this marriage was to ensure his kingdom will be looked after once both he and I are gone, and-”

“Alright! I understand,” your king said, regaining some of his composure. “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it, after some passage of time has passed. I would not want to do- the required, uh, process until we are both ready and comfortable.”

“Very well,” you said, some of the tension in your shoulders dropping, glad that he had understood what you felt without you having to say it. He took the parchment from you, picking up a quill from the desk in your chambers, hastily penning down the point you had made.

“Are we agreed, then?” he said, turning to look at you, but you had already turned away from him to walk into your rather lavish bathroom.

“We are, your majesty,” you called, not bothering to look back at him as you left.

A month after the interaction, you found yourself slowly, steadily, but surely growing comfortable around Edmund. You dined together at the frequency he had deemed appropriate for the two of you, but you never complained, and after the first few occasions, you found yourself looking forward to them. The dinners quickly became the highlights of your week.

Not to mention the fact that Edmund was ridiculously easy to talk to and have fun with. You discovered that you shared a rather large array of interests, be it books, botany, or the pianoforte. You and Edmund were still far from the happy couple that paraded around the palace gardens sometimes, perusing plants and intimate conversations, but you found yourselves letting down your guard around the Just King. The best you had hoped for from this marriage had been to find an amiable companion in your partner, someone you interacted with in minimal doses without too much of a headache. 

In Edmund, you found yourself a friend.

2 months into your marriage, Edmund was roused by the rain, thundering away on the castle’s roofs harshly. The drops were drum beats, the sound amplified by the high ceilings, echoing into every inch of the palace. Slipping on his dress robes and shoes, he walked out of his room towards your chambers, wanting to check on you.

He paused outside your door, for mixed with the sounds of the rain, there was undoubtedly that of a piano playing. Ed had never actually heard you play before, although the two of you had discussed your favourite composers and pieces, and he stilled outside, not wanting to startle you. It was only when you dropped into a pianissimo that he was unable to hear that he slowly pushed the door open, his heart nearly stopping at the sight he beheld.

Your hair was undone, something he had only seen once or twice before, and it never failed to stir something in him. You were in your nightclothes (yet again), with your side profile facing towards him, but the fact that you could have spotted him in your peripheral vision did not matter, because you were completely lost in the music. The melody lilted as your hands titillated back and forth across the keys, the song mellow and slow.

Ed’s heart crashed as your hands did on the piano, changing the theme of the song instantly as you started playing a furious pace, so fast that he was sure your hands would cramp later, but it didn’t matter right now because it was magnificent, and you were magnificent, and Edmund’s heart was crashing louder than the lightning overhead and his feet were approaching you even faster and-

“Your majesty!” you scrambled to stand, hastily bumping your knee into the wooden stool you were previously sitting on, nearly falling, and you would have, had Edmund not reached out and grabbed you by the shoulders.

“Thank you,” you said quietly, his hands warm on your bare shoulders, and you hoped he would not notice the goosebumps they left over your hot skin.

“Are you insane? Whatever for?” he whispered, pulling you closer, “Thank you for blessing my ears, it is a crime that I have not heard you play before.”

“Is that so, my King?” you asked with a smile and Edmund shivered, drawing you in even more to share your body warmth, “If it is a crime, what is my punishment?”

Quick as lightning, Edmund’s gaze flickered from your eyes to your teeth, darting hastily upward again to check if you noticed, but you had. Slowly, steadily, but surely, you leaned into him further, him meeting you halfway. His eyes found yours once again, silently checking for permission, and when he found it, he kissed you. 

Your breath caught in your throat before kissing him back with just as much care as he did you. Kissing Edmund was a delicacy, you realised, the peck he had offered you at the altar was nothing compared to this. Your heart was thrumming with every brush of his lips against yours, his exploring, cartographing every inch of your soft mouth. His hands drifted down from your arms to your waist, stroking the skin on your wrist as he did so, before draping them around your waist. His tongue darted out, seeking access to your mouth which you granted in moments, your hands reaching to twine around his neck, you needed something to hold on to.

He ravished you, gently, you could not recall a time where you had felt a touch so light but fire-inducing at the same time.

The thunder struck loudly outside, and it was only because of the sound that the two of you jumped away from each other. You turned to look at Edmund, mouth opening to say something, but he was already across the room from you.

“Sorry, I’m sorry,” he apologised hastily, stumbling over his words and feet as he kept the stream of 'Sorry's' coming from his mouth profusely, letting himself out swiftly before you even had time to process his actions or his words.

might do a part 2?