#or even Amid Evil

[fembot-y2k]

DUSK was kinda mid to me and im tired of pretending it wasn't

[littlegirlinvisible]

And I cannot say even now that I regret Claudia, that I wish I had never seen her, nor held her, nor whispered secrets to her, nor heard her laughter echoing through the shadowy gaslighted rooms of that all too human town house in which we moved amid the lacquered furniture and the darkening oil paintings and the brass flowerpots as living beings should. Claudia was my dark child, my love, evil of my evil. Claudia broke my heart. — The Vampire Lestat.

[nocontextlestat]

And I cannot say even now that I regret Claudia, that I wish I had never seen her, nor held her, nor whispered secrets to her, nor heard her laughter echoing through the shadowy gaslighted rooms of that all too human town house in which we moved amid the lacquered furniture and the darkening oil paintings and the brass flowerpots as living beings should. Claudia was my dark child, my love, evil of my evil. Claudia broke my heart.

— Lestat.

[txttletale]

ofc you can feel however you like about hamas specifically and still be unequivocally on the side of palestinian resistance but talking about hamas like it's some invasive occupying regime or some inexplicable evil terrorising palestine or even a religious hate group is both racist and completely inane. whatever your opinion on hamas, i urge everyone to actually consider the position of palestinians on the ground--if everyone you loved was killed by an airstrike while the world cheered on, who the fuck wouldn't join an organisation promising revenge and action, when the alternative is looking down at the barrel if vanishingly short life expectancy amid more airstrikes in an open air prison with a 47% unemployment rate. you might not think that hamas is good or right or correct, but you have to understand it as a response to the situation it exists in or you'll just end up uncritically accepting the islamophobic propaganda lines being used to fuel a genocide

[thehighladywrites]

That's your mother, but she's my wife first…

⋆⭒˚｡‎♡‧₊˚ pairing: cassian x fem!reader, the inner circle mentioned

⋆⭒˚｡‎♡‧₊˚ summary: 18+ nsfw, mdni, light angst, stress, smut, fluff, praise, cassian channelling his inner general, reader being an absolute sweetheart who deserves everything good in life fr

⋆⭒˚｡‎♡‧₊˚ amara’s note: okay so I don’t have any kids so some parts might be inaccurate but close your eyes please🤞🏽i have nothing else to say, i just wanna fuck cassian so bad rn...

Spilled milk, mismatched socks, wailing babies.

Gods, what you wouldn’t do for a moment of peace…

Your children were usually calm, even when they were tumbling down stairs and running into tables, but during your youngest twin kids teething phase, they developed an interest for chewing on anything. Their outburst put your two other kids in distress, making it a difficult period for everyone.

In your attempt to keep your twins safe, you unintentionally became the evil mother for denying them the joy of chewing on concrete bricks, their father’s important books and a million other dangerous things that a child simply shouldn’t be putting in their mouth. 

They had been given enchanted teething toys made out of moonstone by their uncle Rhysand, but it didn’t keep them entertained at all. Safety was apparently too boring for them.

This morning was extra rough because Cassian had to leave early for a mission, leaving you with four kids. Although the two oldest ones, 7 and 12, could get themselves ready for the day, they still needed some help with some things. You were downright in a foul mood, feeling the weight of frustration and helplessness as the twins wailed and your oldest ones argued, all while trying to keep your emotions hidden.

“ You took the last pancake, Ves!” your son angrily sliced the remains of his food as your daughter, Vesna, looked at him with anger. “ I don’t care. I told you that I wanted it and you made no move for it, Therian. Blame yourself and be quicker next time.” she bickered back. They kept arguing about that stupid pancake as you picked your twins and moved to the rocking chair across the livingroom to sooth them. The kitchen seamlessly flowed into the living room, creating an open floor plan that allowed you to effortlessly monitor Vesna and Therian.

 “ It’s okay, babies. There we go, hush now.” But it didn’t work, they kept screaming and you were at your breaking point. You felt like the worst mom ever as you looked up, took a deep breath and blinked back tears. 

You almost yearned for Cassian's return, craving the comfort of your mate's presence amid the chaos. Yet, the nagging self-doubt held you back, hesitant to burden him with your distress and feeling a twinge of selfishness in the idea of asking him to cut short his mission. Despite the internal struggle, you chose to tough it out, convincing yourself that countless women had faced similar challenges, wondering if you could measure up to their strength.

Unbeknownst to you, you had been signaling Cassian with your feelings through the bond since this morning. He was already on his way back the moment your emotions reached him. He was just in time to hear your daughter’s frustration directed towards you, though none of you had felt his presence or heard him approach your home. 

“Mom, you're seriously failing at shutting them up. It's not dragon taming to handle two kids, and it shouldn't be this painful for the rest of us. How about you take them outside and only come back when you've figured out how to keep them quiet? Because none of us can stand the noise.” You looked at her stunned as a million thoughts went through your head. Guilt, anger and self-doubt took root inside you.

 Guilt, because was she right? Anger, because she shouldn’t have spoken to you like that ever. Self-doubt, because your fears and feelings about motherhood were spoken out loud. 

Your first-born had a sour expression on her face that quickly fell before she looked down at her plate sheepishly. Maybe she felt regret? But what made her react like that instantly? Your daughter could be hotheaded and it usually took her a few hours to calm down, but not this quick. 

Looking at where she removed her eyes from, you look and see your husband, body tense and wings tucked in tightly. You felt immediate comfort and wanted to throw yourself in his arms and fucking cry. How you had missed him this much in only a few hours was a mystery. 

His boots thudded heavily against the wooden floors as he approached your embarrassed daughter. “Look at me,” was all he needed to say before Vesna reluctantly lifted her head. She knew he was going to chew her out. He clenched his jaw in anger as he looked down at her. “Your lack of empathy for what your mother is dealing with right now is astounding. Instead of criticizing, maybe you should try contributing to the solution. We're a family, and we handle things together, not by throwing blame around. She's your mother, but remember that she's my mate and wife first, and no one speaks to my mate and wife with disrespect ever, not even you. Now go ahead and apologize to her.”

Your husband, ever the general.

With teary eyes, realizing the gravity of her words, Vesna approached you. “Hey, Mommy,” she mumbled, avoiding eye contact. She hadn’t called you mommy in forever. “I... I shouldn't have said those things. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be so harsh. I know it must be difficult and my anger took over. I really love you and I’m sorry.”

You were a bit surprised by the apology and softened your expression before replying, “It's okay, sweetheart. We all have our moments. Just remember, we're a team, and we need to support each other.” She nodded, still feeling a bit guilty, and said, “I'll try to do better. Can I help you with anything now?”

A genuine smile appeared on your face as your replied, “That would be wonderful. Let's work together to make things smoother for everyone. How about you start clearing the table and Therian picks up things from the floor.” She nodded and gave you a small kiss on the cheek before hurriedly making her way back to the kitchen table. Cassian gave her a kiss on the head and gave her a proud smile.  “I’m glad you apologized, and it takes courage to admit when we’re wrong. Let’s move forward now. Your willingness to help now means a lot. Thank you.”

Feeling the tension ease after the daughter's apology, your mate approached you. He gently placed a hand on your shoulder and said, “Hi pretty.” You look up at him with a thankful smile. “Hi lover.” He smiles right back at you. “I know it's been a rough day. I’m so proud of you, sugar. We'll get through this together. How about you go upstairs and soak in the tub while I take care of the kids.” He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss on your forehead, and wrapped his arms around the twins who had gone quiet.

Feeling reassured by Cassian’s comforting words, you smiled appreciatively. You gave him a tender kiss in thanks before scurrying upstairs, grateful for the support and unity he provided for your family. 

As you undressed, a delightful surprise caught your eye – the tub was filled, and a slice of your favorite cake awaited you on a nearby table. Gratefully, you thanked The House for the steaming tub and the unexpected treat. Stepping in, you let the heat envelop you, soothing the tension in your muscles. Time seemed to blur as you relaxed in the warm water — minutes or hours, it was hard to keep track. Exhaustion gradually overcame you, and your eyelids grew heavy in the comforting embrace of the tub, a sweet slice of cake adding to the calmness of the moment.

Entering the room, Cassian caught sight of you in the steaming tub, content and relaxed. A mixture of emotions flooded over him – admiration and a deep love that seemed to intensify in this quiet scene. He approached silently, not wanting to disturb the serene moment. Gently, he reached out to stroke your hair, his eyes reflecting the warmth and affection he felt. In that intimate moment, a silent understanding passed between you, affirming that you’d never be alone ever. You’d be there for each other and it made your heart swell. 

Curiosity lit up your eyes, you looked at your husband and asked, “Hey, where are the kids? Did you take care of them?”

A gentle smile played on his lips as he revealed, “Actually, Rhysie and Feyre picked them up. They thought we could use a quiet weekend, just the two of us. They’re taking Nyx, Ves and Theiran on a trip up the mountains but the twins are staying at the River House with Elain and Lucien. She made a special herbal blend that helps their gums, it’s all very Elain.”

Surprise and gratitude washed over you as you processed the thoughtful gesture. “That's so sweet of them, you remarked, a genuine smile forming. “A quiet day sounds perfect.” You exchanged a glance, appreciating the unexpected silence given by thoughtful friends.

“So, are we entirely alone for the entire weekend?” You attempted to conceal your smile as warmth surged in your belly upon meeting Cassian's gaze, only to discover him returning a heated look. “Indeed, sweetness. It's just you and me, alone. Whatever shall we do to pass the time?” His commanding, taunting voice always managed to drive you crazy. He had a charming voice that you could listen to forever. “I can think of a few ways…” you responded as you stood up, dripping wet. You beckoned him closer  and deeply inhaled his delicious scent. He smelled like home. Throwing your arms around him, you inched your lips closer to his, teasing him, not letting him get close enough for a real kiss. He frowned and slightly pouted. “Either give a proper kiss or I walk away.” You knew it was a false threat. Cassian wouldn’t ever leave your embrace now that he was turned on. 

But you decided to keep playing with him, wanting to see how far you could push him. 

“Yeah? Walk away then, baby.” You let your arms drop to the side, slightly tilting your head with a small smirk on your lips. You felt a surge of amusement as you observed him, jaw tight and knuckles white from clenching, meeting your gaze with defiant determination. “Stop fucking with me, y/n/n. You want me as much as I do.” It was his turn to return a mocking smirk. “ What, you think I don’t know you by now? You think I don’t know that you wanna be fucked until you can’t think straight? Little one, I have years on you. I know your body better than you. I’ll ask again. Are you going to kiss me properly or do I walk away?”

 Fucking hell. He really did know your body better than you since his words only fueled you on. While you enjoyed toying with him, it was time to throw in the towel. No way where you wasting any more time. With hands behind your back you looked up at him, doe-eyed and blushy. “I’ll give you a proper kiss, Cassie. Then please take me to bed.” He smiled down at you with a devilish smile, putting his hand on your hips as he pulled towards his warm chest. “ Whatever my baby wants, she gets.” With hands on his chest, you stood on your toes as water swished around your legs, putting your plush lips against his soft ones. 

 Careful, gentle, loving, comforting and really fucking hot.

That was all you could think of when you were kissing him. One of his warm hands roamed all over your body as his other one cupped your face, deepening the kiss. Your own hands stayed in one spot, your favorite place to put your hands. His chest. You absolutely loved touching his chest. Giving his pecs a light squeeze, resting against them, anything really. Centuries of honing his body into a weapon had made him look like a god. 

You wanted to dry off and move to your bedroom, and as if Cassian had read your thoughts, he grabbed the towel without breaking the kiss and wrapped it around you. He simply picked you up, wrapping your legs around his waist as he moved to the bedroom before gently lowering you to the soft bed. Cassian caught your wrists and pinned them, crisscrossed, above your head while he settled between your legs, once again wrapping them around his waist. You kissed until your lips swelled and pulled away for air. 

He forced your legs apart, hand cupping your pussy. You let out a gasp, quickly gripping onto his broad shoulders. Cassian carefully watched your face as it contorted into pleasure when he pushed in two fingers, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as you let out a moan.

 “Feels good, wifey? ” Cassian asked as your nails dug into his shoulders, hips bucking into his touch. “ mhmm, yeah it feels really fucking good.” you managed to respond as you felt his fingers speed up, curling into that delicious spot that made you absolutely melt. 

He wanted to be inside of you, fuck you and ruin you all over the sheets. “ It would feel a lot better  if I had you wrapped around my cock.” He said, looking up at you through is his dark lashes, eyes full of mirth. You clenched around his fingers at the thought of him filling you up with his thick cock. It had been a while since you had been properly dicked down by him, since you two were busy with life and kids. Quickies, fingering and handjobs were all you had time for since the twins were born 6 months ago. As much as you loved your kids, you also loved alone time with your mate and it was rare these days. So of course you’d use this weekend to get fucked, and maybe that would help you relax a bit. Cassians cock had always been the answer for you. 

Mad? Get dicked down. Sad? Get dicked down. Happy? Get dicked down. 

Huh. 

No wonder you had four kids…

You nodded eagerly at him, “ Please cassie, fill me up. I really need it.” He sat up, dumped his clothes on the floor and positioned his cock infront of your throbbing core, teasing a bit. He used his fingers to scissor you open a bit. When you felt even more slick under his touch he retracted his fingers and licked your wetness off of them. He smiled at around his fingers and said, “Delicious.” Your chuckle morphed seamlessly into a moan when he slammed his lenght into you.

  He let out a sound of pleasure as he pushed himself into you. You clenched around his cock, you were so wet and slippery around him. He let out a pleased groan as he started giving you deep strokes. His pace quickened with the intention of finishing inside of you. He loved to make a mess of your pussy like that, fuck you full of his cum and watch it slowly drip out. Nothing made him more possessive than seeing his mate full of his cum. “Fuck, you’re taking me so well, sweetheart. Such a good girl for me, I’m so proud of you, my beautiful girl.” He knew the exact words you needed today and it made you feel so emotional that he knew you this well. 

You blushed. Pleasure crept up your spine once more. Your legs were starting to shake, sweat coated your back. He pulled you into his arms and kissed you as his strokes were getting faster and faster, his lips muffling your moans. He kept up the pace, feeling the pleasure flow through his body, bringing him closer to climax. He loved the feeling of you around him.

 He was addicted to it. He was addicted to you.

You moaned and arched your back as he continued to fuck into you. You wanted to cum so badly, and as if Cassian once again read your mind, he said something that almost made you cry.

“ Don’t cum yet.”

He must have caught your annoyed stare because he looked down, sporting his usual grin, and said, “I want us to come together. You can handle that, right, pretty?” Your brows furrowed as you attempted to feign annoyance, though deep down, you weren't truly bothered at all.

 No, no you weren’t mad at all because if he was adamant about you finishing together, then you’d do everything in your power to make it happen. You got closer to him, pressing a quick kiss before deepening it as your tounges swirled around each other before you pulled away, biting his lip. He let out a groan and it only spurred you on. You pulled out all your tricks, whispering downright filthy things in his ear. That seemed to do the trick. Cassian thrusted deeper and deeper, rubbing tight circles on your neglected clit before you came in unison. 

You moaned at the feeling, warmth filled you as his pace started to slow down. Your mate collapsed on top of you and your put his head on your chest as you ran your fingers through his hair. He remembered that he hadn’t pulled out yet but before he could you stopped him. 

“ Please baby, don’t pull out yet. It feels really warm and good and I want you in me forever.”

You felt his chest rumble with a gentle laughter. “ Whatever you want, you shall have. You did so well, sugar. I love you.” You kissed his forehead and gave him praise back. “ Thank you, baby. I’m so happy you’re here, I love you too.”

Safe to say you fucked the whole weekend, everywhere, only taking breaks for food and occasional naps. But you also basked in the intimacy of having him. by yourself. Eating together, talking about everything between the heavens and earth, cracking jokes and just enjoying yourselves. 

You and your mate, together for all eternity...

[iid-smile]

☆★☆ (UN)LUCKY SYNDROME !!

★ CONTENT — yukimiya kenyu x manager!gn!reader, fluff, pre relationship, university au, the reader got stood up on a date (not by him), awkward confession

☆ WORD COUNT — 0.7k

★ 1K EVENT !! — kart no. 3 ★

half time.

while everyone else headed elsewhere to refresh, yukimiya went straight over to you. you wish sometimes you'd be able to talk to him about matters outside of football, but alas, you're the team's manager and you don't share any classes.

it was only an innocent chat; something about his performance on the pitch lacking. sure, it was noticeable, but you wouldn't tell him that. he's a passionate player, strove on by the single dream of being the best striker. you wouldn't want to be the person who accidentally crushes his hopes and wishes.

but soon, things started to shift.

you had mutual friends and are closely acquainted with each other, so luckily it wasn't all that awkward having some more casual chit-chat. what was bad was how quickly some secrets spread; not that this particular one was secret, but you'd rather it had not ended up in his hands of all people.

the infamous tale of how you got stood up on a date.

it was recent too! everyone in your friend circle was excited for you, considering it was your first date this year, but no good news came out of it.

"i heard he didn't show up?" great way to start things off, yukimiya.

"yeah, but it's fine, really. i get it, exams and all. not the best idea going to a bar in the middle of the night."

"you could've just asked me to go with you instead, even if it was late." so he's playing this game, huh? the "i know he doesn't like me, but why does it feel like he's flirting?" game.

"i appreciate it, but..." you fiddle idly with the pen in your hands, trying not to freak out and say the wrong thing. "i'm sure you wouldn't want to either way. you're out of my league." the smile on your face quickly vanishes. ah... that was a slip of the tongue.

"i'm sure i would take you out." he casually says as if it's the most normal thing ever. in fact, it doesn't even look like he's realised what he's said — or what you've said — just staring out into the field as he takes a swig of water from his bottle.

at first, it skims over your head. he would take you out? funny joke. he's literally a model and a top player for the university across all sports. or would be a (not so) funny joke if he was actually laughing.

...or maybe he wasn't kidding? it didn't even sound like he was talking about when you got stood up.

as the weight of his words sinks in, your head turns slowly toward him, eyes wide with dawning realisation. "...what?" you’re more than taken aback by this entire conversation, wondering how your voice managed to emerge at all amid the shock, rather than just a mere whisper.

he takes a moment of silence, letting the tension hang in the air. then, he slides his glasses off, the movement almost effortlessly captivating. as his fingers weave through his damp locks, his eyebrows furrowing before he finally responds to you. "what?" his eyes move towards your figure, but it's not like he could see you all that well.

midway through putting his glasses back on, he manages to catch your flustered and slightly disturbed expression through his lens. his gaze flutters around in thought, confused by your confusion, but only seconds later did it finally register what he said to you.

"oh."

"..."

"..."

"well, i messed that up..."

and you both stayed there in silence. awkward... awkward! what were you supposed to say now? there's no way you could just move on from such a comment.

out of nowhere, yukimiya breaks the silence, his voice wavering with uncertainty this time. "can i still take you on that date, or...?"

"i mean, yeah! yeah, of course." you answer almost too quickly. the manager side of you can't help but be a little evil. "if..."

"if?"

"if you score a goal for me."

a spark of surprise flickers in his eyes as he processes the unexpected preposition. a playful smirk slowly spreads across his lips, hinting at a mix of amusement and intrigue. "i'll take that challenge."

he didn't score a single goal. you still went on a date after that match anyway, so you're both winners in this situation.

[roturo]

✒ LOML ⋆⭒˚.⋆ (geto's version)

⋆⭒˚.⋆ sypnosis: You and Suguru Geto were once inseparable, bound by shared dreams and laughter. As time passed, the warmth of those days faded into distant echoes, leaving behind only the haunting traces of a love that once was. Feeling the touch of someone closer made you feel real again. But nothing lasts forever, right?

warnings: smut, unprocteted sex, angst, widow!reader, cult!geto suguru, mentions of ptsd, mentions of death, time passes, soulmate!geto suguru, reader x gojo satoru, mentions of past, let me know if i missed smt.

A/N: okay so, i just broke my back at dance but dw guys i just finished this request so i'll upload it, that means it’s npr— i dont know if yall will get my idea but i made a try, reblog and leave a comment for support !

The bell rang, reminding you how you felt once at the end of another day at Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical School. Amid the crowd of other sorcerers streaming out of the classrooms, you and Suguru Geto stood out as high school sweethearts. You were inseparable, sharing laughs, secrets, and dreams of a future together. Your friends always snickered about when you would marry and have kids. Gojo claimed he would love to see a mini version of yourself and… well, his best friend.

Years passed, and true to the bets, you and Suguru were married in a small, intimate ceremony surrounded by friends and loved ones. The months that followed were filled with joy and love, building a life together that you had once only dreamed of.

But life has a way of taking unexpected turns. As Suguru delved deeper into the world of curses and his cursed technique, his views began to shift. He started to question the very fabric of the world, why he should risk his life to save his and yours, just because of some dumb curses humans create by bringing evil into this world.

"Suguru, what's happening to you?" you asked one evening, your voice stern with concern. He had been distant lately, his once warm eyes now cold and calculating.

"I'm becoming something greater," he replied, his tone flat and emotionless but his face was displaying a sophisticated smirk. "A savior for the sorcerers of this world."

"W-what do you mean?" you asked. "What about the plans we made before getting married?"

Suguru turned to you, a flicker of the old him flashing in his eyes at the memories before it disappeared with a tilt of his head to the side. "We were just kids, babe," he said, almost dismissively with a smile. "Those were dreams of a different time. Ever since I stopped relating to the jujutsu society and more with people of our kind, I finally understand the real meaning of this world and us in it."

“I don’t mind, it takes time, Suguru.”

“You and I went from one kiss to getting married and you think I wouldn’t do this for our world? Our kind? For us?!”

His words cut deep, a painful reminder of the widening chasm between you. Despite your attempts to reach him, Suguru continued down his dark path, growing more entangled in his cult and his delusions of grandeur. The man you had fallen in love with seemed to vanish, replaced by a stranger who saw himself as a legendary figure, destined to reshape the world.

One night, after another heated argument, you woke up startled from another bad dream. He stood before you, a shadow of his former self. "I'm doing this for us, for a better world," he insisted.

He used to think you were better safe than starry-eyed. But you have never felt aglow—never before and never since.

You shook your head, tears streaming down your face unconsciously. "No, Suguru. You're doing this for yourself. You're not the man I married."

He paused, looking at you with a mixture of anger and sadness. "Maybe you're right. But it's too late to change now."

The anguish in his voice was almost too much to bear. You reached out, hoping to find a trace of the boy you once knew, but you couldn’t touch him, every time he felt even farther away from you.

"Suguru, please," you whispered, your voice breaking. "We can still fix this. We can go back to how things were."

He shook his head slowly. "No, we can't. We've come too far. But remember what I said last time? I will never let this get in the way of yo—of us. You’re the love of my life.”

His words echoed in the empty space between you, a final, bitter nail in the coffin of your once bright future. As you blinked and gained full consciousness after waking up, you felt a part of yourself break, knowing that the man you loved was lost to a darkness you couldn't understand or see.

And yet, here you were, standing alone in the ruins of what once was, clutching the shards of a dream that had shattered beyond repair. The emptiness inside you grew, consuming the remnants of hope you clung to, leaving behind an ache that seemed to echo in the hollow spaces of your heart.

He was gone, but his ghost lingered, a painful reminder of the love that was and the love that could never be again.

He wasn’t there anymore, was he?

Holy ghost, he told you he was the love of your life. 

About a million times.

Years later, as you stood alone in the quiet of your home, now a dorm back in the school buildings as you decided to work for those sorcerers who started feeling like your loved one, you reflected on the boy you had once loved and the man he had become. The memories of your high school days seemed like a distant dream, a time when you were just kids, full of hope and promise.

The room was dimly lit, the air thick with unspoken emotions. Your breaths and moans mingled, hot and desperate, as Gojo's lips traced a path down your neck while humping his hard cock on the slippery sweet cunt of yours. His touch was familiar, yet foreign, as if you were trying to grasp a memory that slipped through your fingers like sand.

You closed your eyes, allowing yourself to be swept away in the moment. You could feel Gojo's need in the way he whispered your name, like he was asking for permission for something, or… someone. His voice, usually so confident and teasing, held a whine that made your heart ache with a confusing blend of longing and sorrow.

His hands roamed over your body with a practiced ease, yet every touch felt like a plea, a silent question of whether this could ever be enough. His lips traced familiar paths down your neck and across your collarbone, igniting sparks that threatened to consume you whole. 

Once he finally thrust inside you, both of you moaned out loud and made you open your eyes with a blurry sight, contemplating his dark hair falling on your face while he moved within you. A feeling of completeness invaded your tummy as you whimpered when he touched that spot inside of you.

“Please,” you whispered, but it sounded like a desperate call to the ghost of your past. The reality of the present and the memory of the past blurred, creating a disorienting whirlpool of emotions. “I got it baby… just– Mhm-I”  The touch felt so good and… right. You lost yourself in the feeling as tears started drowning your eyes in a mix of emotions.

Gojo's grip tightened as he felt your tears, his whispered name of yours almost a chant, a plea wrapped in longing and regret. The confusion of your feelings deepened—did he really say your name?

You looked back at him, his cold but reassuring black purplish eyes invading the light coming from the lamp as it was the only thing that shined for you. The way his hair fell, the curve of his lips as he groaned, it all felt too familiar and too alien at once. Your climax and his were getting closer, moans escalating in volume as you both sought a release that felt more like an escape.

When your impressionist paintings of Heaven turned out to be fakes, it was as if the vibrant colors of your love had faded into a monochrome nightmare. You had been sold a get-love-quick scheme, and the ink bled into a mess of confusion and heartache.

As you finally reached your high with a shared kiss, Gojo cleaned you up in silence and gave you a water bottle. It was over. You lay there, entwined in Gojo’s arms, feeling his hair cover a part of his chest as you leaned down your head on it.

When you woke up, the morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow on the room. You were naked, tangled in the sheets, Gojo's arm still draped over you. The events of the night before replayed in your mind, and the stark reality hit you like a punch to the gut. It hadn't been him; it was never him.

You had been digging up the past, trying to revive a love that was long dead. The realization washed over you, cold and unforgiving. You should've let it stay buried. The feelings you were trying to resurrect were entombed with the boy you once loved, and no amount of closeness with Gojo could bring them back to life.

The night had been a cruel reminder that some ghosts could never be laid to rest, and the void left by his absence was one that Gojo could never fill.

As you stared out at the morning light coming through the window, you knew that you had to find a way to move forward, even if it meant leaving the past behind. The touch of Gojo's arms around you, once comforting, now felt like chains binding you to memories you could never escape. The warmth of his body next to yours only highlighted the cold emptiness within, a void that grew larger with every passing moment.

The room, now bathed in the soft glow of dawn, felt like a cage. Each shadow seemed to whisper the name of the boy you had lost, each ray of light a painful reminder of a future that would never be. You could still feel the echo of his touch on your skin, a ghostly caress that lingered long after the night had ended.

Gojo stirred beside you, his arm tightening around your waist in a sleepy embrace. You glanced back at him, his serene expression a stark contrast to the turmoil raging within you. He had tried to fill the void, to be the light in your darkness, but the shadows of the past were too strong, too overwhelming.

You gently extricated yourself from his grasp, moving silently to avoid waking him. As you stood by the window, the first rays of sunlight breaking through the clouds, you felt a tear slip down your cheek. It was a tear for the love you had lost, for the boy who had once been your world, and for the man who now lay beside you, trying to pick up the pieces of a shattered heart.

The realization was stark and unforgiving: no matter how much you tried to move forward, the past would always be a part of you, a haunting reminder of what could have been. And as the morning light washed over you, you knew that the journey ahead would be long and painful, but it was a path you had to walk alone.

With a deep breath, you turned away from the window, determination settling in your heart. The ghosts of the past would always linger, but you had to find a way to live with them, to find peace in the midst of the storm. And maybe, just maybe, you would find a way to heal.

“Suguru,” you began, your voice barely above a whisper, “promise me something.”

Suguru’s gaze softened as he looked at you, his eyes reflecting the last rays of the setting sun. “Anything,” he replied, his tone sincere and tender.

“Promise me you’ll never put anyone or anything above us,” you said, your voice trembling slightly. “That we’ll always come first.”

Suguru took your hands in his, his touch warm and reassuring. “I’ll never leave,” he said, his voice unwavering. “Nothing and no one will ever come between us. You’re my everything.”

You felt a wave of relief wash over you, his words wrapping around your heart like a protective shield. His lips curved into a gentle smile, and he leaned in to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “I promise,” he murmured. “I’ll always be here for you. We’re in this together.”

The moment felt eternal, a promise etched in the quiet of the twilight. As you nestled against him, the world outside seemed to vanish, leaving only the certainty of Suguru’s words and the warmth of his embrace. You closed your eyes, letting the peaceful promise settle deep within you, trusting that no matter what challenges lay ahead, his commitment would remain steadfast.

In that perfect, fleeting moment, you believed with all your heart that Suguru’s promise was unbreakable.

The memories of his promises, once a source of solace, now felt like daggers, each one twisting deeper into your heart. “I’ll never leave,” he had promised. And yet, here you were, alone, with the emptiness where his presence used to be. The truth was inescapable: Suguru had left, and his promises had been nothing more than comforting words, hollow and unfulfilled.

The room seemed to close in on you, the silence amplifying the ache in your chest. You could still feel the ghost of his touch, the warmth of his embrace, but it was all a cruel illusion, a mirage that had vanished with his departure. “Never mind,” you said to yourself in a breathless chuckle, trying to hide the pain your chest felt, the realization hitting you with a cold, harsh clarity. All those promises were just words—a fleeting comfort that had crumbled to dust.

You buried your face in your hands, tears streaming down your cheeks, each one a testament to the love you had lost. The future you had once envisioned with Suguru was nothing more than a shattered dream, a vision that had dissolved into the stark reality of his absence.

The pain was almost unbearable, the weight of his betrayal settling heavily on your shoulders. You had been left to pick up the pieces, to grapple with the knowledge that the love you had cherished was now a ghost of the past. And as the darkness of the room closed in around you, you knew that the journey to heal from this loss would be long and fraught with heartache.

In the silence of the night, you felt the full force of Suguru’s absence, a painful truth settled within you with the weight of an unbearable burden. “Shit,” you whispered to the empty room, the words trembling on your lips as if they carried the weight of a thousand broken dreams. The room seemed to absorb your sorrow, its silence amplifying the ache in your heart. Each breath felt labored, the air thick with the heavy, oppressive realization of Suguru’s absence.

The absence of his presence was like a gaping wound that no amount of time or consolation could ever heal. His laughter, once so familiar and comforting, was now a distant echo that haunted the corners of your mind. The love you had cherished, so vibrant and full of promise, was now a ghostly whisper, a reminder of what once was but could never be again. The memories, once a source of warmth, now felt like cold, unyielding shadows that only deepened the chasm within you.

The pain was almost unbearable, each moment a torment as you faced the stark reality of Suguru’s departure. The void he left behind was a vast and insurmountable chasm, a darkness that seemed to stretch on endlessly. It was a wound so profound that no amount of time or effort could ever hope to mend it. You tried to imagine a future without him, but every thought seemed to fall short, every hope tarnished by the cruel reality of his absence.

No matter how hard you tried, you knew that the echoes of your shared past would never fully fade. The journey ahead would be marked by the persistent shadow of what you had lost. Each step forward felt weighed down by the remnants of Suguru’s memory, a constant reminder of the love that had slipped through your fingers like sand. The future you once envisioned, full of hope and promise, was now a mirage, forever out of reach.

As the darkness of the room closed in around you, you felt the full force of Suguru’s absence. The silence was deafening, a stark contrast to the warmth and intimacy that once defined your life together. The realization that the loss of him was a scar that would remain with you forever settled heavily upon you. It was a mark that no amount of time or healing could ever truly erase, a reminder that some wounds are too deep, too profound, to ever be fully healed.

In the quiet of the night, with the shadows stretching long and dark, you felt the weight of Suguru’s absence more acutely than ever. The pain was a constant companion, a relentless reminder of the love that had once been your everything but was now a haunting, unending loss. The room, filled with the echoes of what once was, bore witness to the depth of your grief, a silent testament to the enduring impact of Suguru’s departure on your heart and soul.

And as you sat in the suffocating silence, grappling with the emptiness that had consumed your world, you could only utter one final, heart-wrenching truth: “You’re the loss of my life.”

[wilwheaton]

Over the weekend, as events unfolded chaotically across Israel, it was difficult to assess what was real and what wasn’t. That has arguably gotten even harder amid the fallout, both in terms of assessing what exactly happened during horrific attacks on Israeli civilians and on Israel’s response, which has involved the cutting of food, water, and electricity from Gaza’s two million residents. Per a Wired report from Monday, “Rather than being shown verified and fact-checked information, X users were presented with video game footage passed off as footage of a Hamas attack and images of firework celebrations in Algeria presented as Israeli strikes on Hamas. There were faked pictures of soccer superstar Ronaldo holding the Palestinian flag, while a three-year-old video from the Syrian civil war [was] repurposed to look like it was taken this weekend.” Twitter has gotten slower and worse at removing disinformation before it spreads. And users willing to spend $8 a month for a blue check can boost—and, in some cases, monetize—the spread of misinformation. All told, the social network demonstrated a singular ability to take a complex, fast-moving situation and make it more difficult to comprehend. This is a disaster for Twitter, which had previously demonstrated an ability to be indispensable during fast-moving crises. Changes made by Musk to the platform—from the gutting of teams devoted to trust and safety, to the removal of “legacy” blue checks for reporters, even to the recent removal of headlines from links—have all made it more difficult to ascertain if what you are seeing in the ruins of your Twitter feed is real or fake, making it much easier to spread misinformation. For over a year, we’ve heard various reports of Twitter’s demise. Some have been hyperbolic; many have failed to appreciate how resilient the the service was before Musk’s arrival. It’s likely that some facsimile of Twitter will exist, far into the future. But a seismic shift in how the platform is perceived has occurred. If it isn’t good for breaking news, then what good is it? Perhaps it’s not a force for good at all.

The Week Twitter Went Evil

This is all by design. This is all intentional. Elon Musk is an antisemitic white supremacist who wants to sow as much chaos as possible. He’s a younger, slightly less vulgar Trump. Everything he’s done since he took over Twitter has been in service of ruining its utility for real communication, instantaneous delivery of vital information, while promoting neonazis, antisemitism, and right wing disinformation.

Elon Musk presents an existential threat to humanity. Innocent people are dying, and will continue to suffer and die, as a direct result of his actions.

[aphroditelovesu]

Hi can I make a request of a love letters from Castlevania Yandere Vlad, Dracula tepes x gender, neutral, reader and Yandere Trevor Belmont x gender, neutral, reader and yandere Alecurd x gender, neutral, reader and I almost forgot can you make l sure that reader is human? Thank you 🙏❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Dear (Y/N),

In the endless and dark nights, where the moon reflects its light upon us, my heart, once frozen by time, finds warmth in the radiant and ephemeral presence that you are. It's as if destiny, in its mischief, brought us together, even knowing the barriers that the world imposes between us.

I am a being of the night, one who lives in the shadows and finds his shelter in the darkness. You are the light that permeates my existence, the reason why my eyes long for the sunrise.

My immortal being is enveloped by eternal loneliness, but in you, I find the promise of something deeper. A love that defies ages, that transcends the barriers between our divergent worlds.

I beg you to accept this heart immersed in darkness, ready to beat to the rhythm of your light. Allow me to be your guardian, your companion on this uncertain journey.

With eternal love,

Vlad.

My love,

I write this letter in the hope that it will find its way to you, just as my soul always finds yours, despite the darkness that surrounds us. Amid the endless battles against the creatures of the night, it is you who illuminates my heart.

Each night, when the cloak of darkness spreads over us, it is your image that guides me, bringing light to my dark days. Your smile is more radiant than the sun that never dared to touch our home.

As I lift my cross against the children of darkness, your love is my strongest protection, an impenetrable shield against the claws of evil. I feel fortunate to share my journey with you, a beacon of humanity in a world steeped in darkness.

Accept these words as an oath, an eternal commitment to protect and love you in the midst of the darkness. For as long as there is a breath of life in my being, your love will be my anchor in this hellish world.

All my love,

Trevor Belmont.

My sweet love,

I write these words with a heart full of emotions that I can barely contain. From the moment our paths crossed, my life changed in ways I could never have imagined. You brought light to the darkest corners of my existence, dispelling the darkness that consumed me for so long.

It is true that I am a being of the night, a dhampir whose destiny is marked by a nature that many consider threatening. Yet in your presence, I find a peace that goes beyond the barriers between our worlds. Your smile is the sun that illuminates my eternal darkness, and your understanding and acceptance make me feel human again.

I know the road before us is filled with challenges and obstacles that many do not understand. But together, I believe we can transcend the differences that separate us. I promise to protect you with all the strength I possess, even if it means fighting against my own being.

Every beat of my heart, although silent and dead, is a testimony to the deep love I have for you. Even if eternity separates us, know that your name will always be whispered in the most secret corners of my soul.

With all my love,

Alucard.

[renthony]

hey!! i am genuinely curious about how the catholic church helped implement the hays code, would you be able to tell me more/do you have any good reading material about it? thanks so much!!

This has been sitting in my inbox for aaaaaages, because I want to do it justice! It's actually a big facet of my research project that I'm going to go into much, much, much more depth on, but here's the short(er) summary:

The foundational text of the Hays Code was written by two Catholics: a Jesuit priest named Father Daniel Lord, and a man named Martin Quigley, who was the editor of the Motion Picture Herald. They grounded their guidelines in Catholic morality and values, based on the idea that art could be a vehicle for evil by negatively influencing the actions of those who view it.

The original list of guidelines written by Lord and Quigley was adapted into the Production Code, popularly known as the "Hays Code" after William Hays, the president of the Production Code Administration that enforced it. As president of the PCA, William Hays appointed a staunch Catholic man called Joseph Breen to enforce the code. Breen enforced it aggressively, confiscating the original reels of films he deemed inappropriate and against the Code. Many lost films from this era are only "lost" because Joseph Breen personally had them destroyed. Some were rediscovered later, but many were completely purged from existence.

When Breen died in 1965, Variety magazine wrote, "More than any single individual, he shaped the moral stature of the American moral picture." He was a very, very big deal, and was directly responsible for censoring more films than I could even begin to list here.

In 1937, Olga J. Martin, Joseph Breen’s secretary, said, “To an impoverished country which had become religious and serious-minded, the sex attitudes of the post-war period became grotesquely unreal and antedated. The public at large wanted to forget its own derelictions of the ‘gay twenties.' The stage was set for the moral crusade.”

In 1936, once the Code was being fully enforced on filmmakers by Joseph Breen, a letter was issued by the office of Pope Pius XI that praised Breen's work, and encouraged all good Catholics to support film censorship.

The letter read in part, "From time to time, the Bishops will do well to recall to the motion picture industry that, amid the cares of their pastoral ministry, they are under obligation to interest themselves in every form of decent and healthy recreation because they are responsible before God for the moral welfare of their people even during their time of leisure. Their sacred calling constrains them to proclaim clearly and openly that unhealthy and impure entertainment destroys the moral fibre of a nation. They will likewise remind the motion picture industry that the demands which they make regard not only the Catholics but all who patronize the cinema."

Basically, this letter was a reminder from the Papal authority that bishops and priests are supposed to stop people from engaging with "lewd" or "obscene" art. That meant supporting things like the Hays Code.

So, to summarize: the original text of the Hays Code was written by two Catholics, including a priest. The biggest and most aggressive censor under the Code was a Catholic man, who had the full support and approval of the Pope at the time. Good Catholics were called en-masse to support the Hays Code, because it was intentionally written to line up with Catholic teachings.

There's a lot more to say on the subject, and if you're interested in reading more on your own, I recommend the book "Pre-Code Hollywood: Sex, Immorality, and Insurrection in American Cinema, 1930-1934," by Thomas Doherty. There are plenty other sources I can recommend on request, but that's a solid place to start.

(And if I can toot my own horn, I'm intending to do a video lecture series all about American film censorship and the Hays Code. Pledging to my Patreon helps keep me fed and housed while I do all this damn research.)

[asherheed]

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡ secret little rendezvous / xiao x gn!reader, 4.4 lantern rite spoilers!

xiao waits for you by the cliff nearby pervases's temple.

the night is cool against his skin and as he gazes at the sky, watching the bright glow of xiao lanterns and the stars, he pictures your existence and smiles at the thought of your likeness to the ones littering the night.

he wonders for a moment, if you weren't going to show up. his pessimism almost always gets the best of him, and despite the evening merriment, even his demons refuse to rest.

eyes closing as the wind caresses his face, he feels the darkness inside him creep at the corners of his mind, seeking to cease the fluttering of his heart at the thought of you.

give in, the chorus of evil voices whisper in his ear. give in and be free.

and he almost does, if not for the sound of barbatos's flute; almost does, if not for the memory of a fond dream where he can dance without guilt amid a sea of flowers.

give in, they hum, but xiao refuses to. not when he feels your presence nearby. not when you smile at him like that and he feels his chest tighten at the sight, his lips curving softly in return.

he glances at you, illuminated by the soft, orange glow of the lantern, and forgets to breathe. his fingers brush against your skin while you both hold it and warmth travels across his body, his fingers tingling at the touch.

when you both let go of the lantern, the weight on his shoulders disappears and his mind quiets as his eyes follow the lantern flying up towards the clouds.

even though he will never be free of his shackles, this moment will eternally be embedded in his memories. the gentleness of your touch, the kindness of your smile, and your presence that makes him feel worthy of being treated tenderly, xiao vows to cherish them.

no matter what.

[tossacointoyourhotmess]

Lestat de Lioncourt + The Vampire Claudia

INTERVIEW WITH THE VAMPIRE (1994), INTERVIEW WITH THE VAMPIRE (2022-), THE VAMPIRE CHRONICLES: THE VAMPIRE LESTAT (1985)

And I cannot say even now that I regret Claudia, that I wish I had never seen her, nor held her, nor whispered secrets to her, nor heard her laughter echoing through the shadowy gaslighted rooms of that all too human town house in which we moved amid the lacquered furniture and the darkening oil paintings and the brass flowerpots as living beings should. Claudia was my dark child, my love, evil of my evil. Claudia broke my heart.

[persepinas]

And I cannot say even now that I regret Claudia, that I wish I had never seen her, nor held her, nor whispered secrets to her, nor heard her laughter echoing through the shadowy gaslighted rooms of that all too human town house in which we moved amid the lacquered furniture and the darkening oil paintings and the brass flowerpots as living beings should. Claudia was my dark child, my love, evil of my evil. Claudia broke my heart.

And on a warm sultry night in the spring of the year 1860, she rose up to settle the score. She enticed me, she trapped me, and she plunged a knife over and over again into my drugged and poisoned body, until almost every drop of the vampiric blood gushed out of me before my wounds had the precious few seconds in which to heal.

I don't blame her. It was the sort of thing I might have done myself.

And those delirious moments will never be forgotten by me, never consigned to some unexplored compartment of the mind. It was her cunning and her will that laid me low as surely as the blade that slashed my throat and divided my heart. I will think on those moments every night for as long as I go on, and of the chasm that opened under me, the plunge into mortal death that was nearly mine. Claudia gave me that.

[crematedcow]

She couldn't simply surrender what had been the very essence of her life, the one thing that no one was supposed to have the power to take away from her. Her freedom? Nobody was acutally free. Her love? She could find a way to cope with it. Her child? A heart-wrenching sacrifice, but she could endure it. Yet, this vital part of her, this very core of her being – she would never allow anyone to snatch it away.

And that marked the tale of a parasite.

Of a Patron and Its Chains is a 18+ interactive fiction in a fantasy and steampunk setting inspired by the worlds of The Witcher Series and Fullmetal Alchemist. You are a seasoned hunter tasked with tracking and eliminating dangerous supernatural threats. However, your story takes a turn when you decide to become also a pactbearer.

In this realm where the intricate dance of magic and technology creates a canvas of possibilities, one could easily envision an idyllic existence.

The ability to traverse into other realities, though often at a steep cost, promised rapid advancement that could border on madness. Yet, amid these innovations and developments, lurking dangers remained ever-present. The very act of opening portals to other realms could inadvertently usher in creatures not meant for this world, seamlessly intertwining them with reality.

It was a world where the choice was to either be the hunter or the hunted, and most succumbed to the latter fate. However, your father instilled a different path in you. As a hunter of those creatures, he ensured you absorbed all the survival knowledge you needed before eventually got wrongfully accused and executed, a tragic turning point that reshaped your plans. Rather than simply following in his footsteps to become a hunter, you decided to become a pactbearer.

Summoning a Patron, a legend from diverse worlds and realities, your mission was to unite with fellow pactbearers. Together, you would confront an encroaching evil, all while seeking the fulfillment of a cherished wish granted by a god. Yet, even with the support of numerous companions and your trusted Patron, each victory over a monstrous foe revealed a looming threat waiting just beyond the horizon...

You are the hero... right?

This is an 18+ interactive fiction that is being written on Twine.

be a hunter that kills monsters or embroils into unwanted drama

fully customizable mc from appearance, pronouns and personality

several sidequests to develop your skills as a hunter (includes: Possession, Witches, Ancient Beasts and more)

a beastiarium with further information to every creature you meet on the way

the big world of Vestria & Co. with a lot of lore that you can all uncover - or not!

a cryptic voice inside your head that occasionally breaks the fourth wall

meet the other pactbearers and their patrons and decide what relationship you want to have with them

choose what animal-form your patron is going to have

a total of six companions (including your patron) who will be with you a majority of your journey

all of them are romancable, plus a hidden romance option for those who can be patient

lots of parental issues!

figure out the truth of your world, or fail to do so - there is no right or wrong

and a... cow?

CONTENT WARNINGS: depicitons of death, violence, mental illness, gore (in the territory of body horror), animal cruetly and death, abuse, pornographic content, strong language

More might follow

DEMO TBA

CURRENT WORD COUNT: 21000+

but nothing demo ready yet

The RO's include:

✸ Cú Chulainn (M/F)

In ancient tomes and tales, Chulainn stood as a formidable legend — an indomitable hero whose laughter echoed in the face of enemies and even death itself. They reveled in the thrill of combat, never yielding without a proper battle. Yet, such was the image you held dear until the moment you summoned them into your realm, making them your esteemed Patron. The being before you shattered the illusion you once cherished. No longer did they exude the vigor of a warrior; instead, bitterness clung to their spirit, entwined with a profound disdain for the world and all its inhabitants. Longing for the solace of death they once fervently evaded, Chulainn relinquished their ardor for combat, dismissing it as a hollow pursuit devoid of significance. As a consequence, their role as your Patron proved less than… helpful. Nevertheless, a flicker of optimism lingers within the depths of their desolate heart. Perhaps, against all odds, you possess the power to reignite the flames of purpose within them, offering a renewed sense of hope and the chance for a remarkable new beginning.

✸ Lysander/Lysandra (M/F)

Within the illustrious court of the High Queen, there exists a figure of great repute: Lys, a distinguished servant renowned for their unparalleled ability to fulfill any given task. Their name has become synonymous with perfectionism, as they consistently meet and surpass the lofty expectations placed upon them. The mere mention of their name evokes awe and respect throughout the courtly corridors. Alas, despite their esteemed standing, Lys remains a figure of divisive sentiment. Whispers and murmurs abound among their colleagues, swirling in a ceaseless cycle of gossip. Tales of their rigid and occasionally insolent demeanor dominate these conversations, yet there is another facet that elicits both awe and envy in equal measure. Lys possesses an unparalleled loyalty to the High Queen, a level of devotion that others find almost unattainable. Yet, the reality surpasses the worst of these rumors. Lys' nature transcends the bounds of mere unpleasantness, particularly in their interactions with you. Adding fuel to the fire, they perceive you as a sort of rival, amplifying the tensions between you. One can only wonder if it is merely a facade in an attempt to hide their weakness or the reality of their identity.

✸ Holographic Entity "Holly" (F)

Holly, the Patron of Lys, assumes the guise of a long-haired housecat, but her true essence hails as a revolutionary from a distant reality, a realm of unparalleled advancement far beyond the scope of Vestria. For Holly, her presence in this foreign world feels akin to embarking on an elaborate holiday excursion plucked from the very pages of historical books she once heard of. Her insatiable curiosity serves as the driving force behind her existence, propelling her to seek new experiences and infusing every interaction with a buoyant energy that suggests no challenge is insurmountable. Unafraid to vocalize her thoughts and opinions, Holly fearlessly shares her insights, even when they clash with those of her companion, Lys, particularly when the subject of her candid musings centers around you. Or at least, that is the impression you choose to hold. Her unabashed honesty may lead some to believe that she is a simple, unassuming creature. However, the more time spent with Holly reveals that there is much more to her than meets the eye. After all, one cannot lead a revolution based solely on a smile and an unfiltered mouth.

✸ Elli Agilulf (M)

The Blessed Ones, the esteemed right and left hand of the Night Church, are figures known to all who have ventured beyond the confines of ignorance. Cloaked in an aura of mystery, their veiled faces lend an air of both authority and enigma. Among their ranks is Elli, who strives to embody the idealized image of a Blessed One. He adheres to a code of silence, speaking only when necessary and responding with a detached aloofness. True to form, he carries himself with an air of subtle intimidation. However, beneath his carefully crafted facade, Elli is easily rattled by even the slightest inconvenience or a quick-witted remark, his frustration and anger palpable despite his hidden face. He is short-tempered and stubborn, a nature that clashes with the expectations of his position. As a Blessed One, he is expected to be a mindless automaton, devoid of thoughts or personal desires, but Elli's mind is a swirling vortex of thoughts and emotions, overflowing with complexity. Perhaps it is this contradiction, this clash between his true nature and the expectations placed upon him, that makes Elli an actual enigma. You do feel yourself challenged when he decides that you are a criminal to-become.

✸ Irydion (F)

Irydion holds a perspective that challenges the notion of victory being achieved simply through diplomatic agreements and signed papers. To her, a war is not truly won until she has exacted revenge to those she deems responsible for the suffering inflicted upon her country. As a member of the militia, she is fueled by a desire to fight, her hands trembling with the power of her magic, ready to unleash it upon her enemies on the frontline. While others may perceive an undisturbed silence on the battlefield as a sign of these so called peacetimes, Irydion remains vigilant, recognizing it as a deceptive tactic used by the enemy to lure her into dropping her guard. Too bad she is always a step ahead of those who seek to harm her people! Her selfless dedication to protecting and caring for her fellow countrymen is unwavering, even if it means being seen as misguided or paranoid by those who don't fully understand her. Irydion's allies may acknowledge her kind-hearted nature, but they also recognize her single-minded determination and unwavering belief in the necessity of fighting back against an enemy that is just a shadow. Irydion does not care for these rumors, knowing that regardless of how many may stand against her, they will eventually come to understand the truth of her cause. She remains steadfast, believing that time will prove her right in the end. After all, you believe her… right?

✸ "Junius" (M)

Even as Irydion's patron, the line between their roles blurs, with Junius' approach to her and other humans carrying an arrogantly nonchalant air. His actions, delivered with ease and naturalness, ridicule or charm one without noticing. With a mere lazy wink or a mockish bow, he effortlessly asserts a sense of superiority, deliberately refraining from putting genuine meaning or depth in his antics. Maintaining an elusive detachment, he keeps others at arm's length, preventing them from ever truly getting close to him. Despite his mysterious past, he carries himself as if the weight of secrets hold little significance to who he is. Junius' personality dances on the edge of daring, akin to playing with fire, drawing allure and enticement from the very act itself. He fearlessly indulges in flirting with married women and engaging in challenges with those of higher social standing, defying conventional norms and embracing a provocative existence. There lies a subtle irony in his guise — a wolf rather than a lion — his pride speaking for another form. And even in conversation, he adeptly maintains the facade, never allowing his act to waver, leaving you to question whether it is indeed a carefully crafted performance or indeed the reality of his character.

???

If it wasn't the work of gods, maybe it was fate that brought you together.

And several other characters you meet on your way across the country; other pactbearers and their patrons, tragic lovers, a noisy priest, ill-ridden villages (there is only two but it's weird it happened twice), two twin-rulers who don't seem to get along, a talking book, and more.

[mxtxfanatic]

"If He Catches Me..." a Meta on Lan Wangji's Unconditional Support Pt. 2

Not only does Lan Wangji unconditionally support Wei Wuxian in the latter's second life, he actually does the same in the man's first, too, despite many instances being either overlooked or outside of his knowledge. Lan Wangji physically protects Wei Wuxian on multiple occasions:

Wen ZhuLiu couldn’t attend to both sides at the same time, blundering amid the chaos. As he looked to the side and saw Wei WuXian’s cold smile, he threw himself at him. Both of the two on the roof frowned. Lan WangJi smacked down. The tiles shattered and the roof collapsed. Through the roof, he descended into the second floor of the courier station and blocked Wen ZhuLiu from Wei WuXian.

—Chapt. 62: Evil, exr

Jin ZiXuan dodged to the side and returned to him a sword attack, “If I don’t grab her should I let her walk randomly around the mountain alone?!” However, the sword glare was hit to the side by another glare, shooting into the sky. Seeing who it was, Jin ZiXuan was shocked, “HanGuang-Jun?” Lan WangJi unsheathed Bichen. Standing between the three, he maintained his silence.

—Chapt. 69: Departure, exr

At this point, Wen Ning pounced on him. As though he was hit by a large boulder, Wei WuXian flew back from the force, crashing onto a tree. He felt warmth rise up his throat and cursed. Lan WangJi saw this happen just as he returned. His expression changed at once and he rushed in front of him. Wen Qing had just shoved Wen Yuan into another’s arms. She wanted to check on Wei WuXian’s injuries, but he got there before she could. She paused with surprise. Lan WangJi was almost embracing Wei WuXian as he held his hand and passed spiritual energy to him.

—Chapt. 75: Distance, exr

“Not many of the people left were still conscious at the time. I myself could barely move. I could only stare as WangJi limped after you, grabbed you, and flew off on his sword even though his cultivation was clearly near its limit. ... Lan XiChen continued, “When my uncle reached him, he’d scolded him and asked him to explain himself. However WangJi seemed to have already expected us to find him, he only said, ‘There’s nothing to explain. This is what it seems.’ All his life, WangJi has never defied Uncle and I on anything. But for you, not only did he defy Uncle, he even drew his sword on the fellow cultivators of his own sect, and severely injured all thirty-three seniors of the Gusu Lan Sect that were with us......”

—Chapt. 99: A Hatred for Life Part 2, boat-full-of-lotus-pods

...offers him aid, at times without even needing to be asked:

Wei Wuxian’s sword was optimized for agility, and consequently, its strength happened to fall just short, and they were nearly pulled to the surface of the lake. Wei Wuxian steadied himself and held on to Su She with both hands. “Someone help! If I can’t pull him up soon, I’ll have to let go!” he shouted. Suddenly, the back of Wei Wuxian’s collar tightened, and his body was lifted into the air. He twisted his neck and saw Lan Wangji holding him up with one hand. Though the boy’s indifferent gaze was directed elsewhere, he and his sword alone had no trouble bearing the weight of three people, even fighting against the mysterious force inside the lake. They rose higher and higher at a stable pace.

—Chapt. 17: Elegance VII, fanyiyi

Lan WangJi put into Wen Yuan’s palm the butterfly that he dropped. He didn’t answer the question, but instead asked, “Why do you not mount your sword?” Wei WuXian, “Forgot to bring it!” Without saying anything, Lan WangJi took him by his waist and brought him onto Bichen as they rose into the air.

—Chapt. 74: Distance, exr

Wei WuXian pulled out Chenqing, “Lan...!” He wanted to entrust Lan WangJi with saving the others as he stayed to deal with Wen Ning. When he turned around, he had already disappeared. Just as he was beginning to panic, sounds of the zither vibrated through the sky, sending off a murder of startled crows. Before he could even ask, Lan WangJi had already gone over. Wei WuXian felt his heart settle.

...

Wei WuXian whipped out twelve talismans, “Don’t know where I put it!” The twelve yellow talismans formed a line in midair and began to burn. When they landed on Wen Ning, like a chain of fire, they held him down at once. With a flip of his wrist, Lan WangJi strummed the strings of his zither. Wen Ning’s footsteps seemed to have been hindered by an invisible thread. He paused, but continued to struggle forward despite the difficulty. Wei WuXian put Chenqing to his lips. Due to the blow he received, some blood sprayed out from his lips. He frowned, but he endured the pain and the blood churning within his chest, playing without a single tremble. Under the two’s collaboration, Wen Ning kneeled on the ground and let out a roar skyward.

—Chapt. 75: Distance, exr

...and defends Wei Wuxian against other cultivators who attempt to bad-mouth or slander him:

Nie MingJue’s gaze turned over again, “Why does Wei Ying not carry his sword?” Carrying one’s sword was like wearing formal attire. In such gatherings, it was a non-negligible indication of etiquette. Those from prominent sects saw it as especially important. Lan WangJi responded in a lukewarm tone, “He had probably forgotten.” Ning MingJue raised a brow, “He can even forget something like this?” Lang WangJi, “It is nothing out of the ordinary.”

—Chapt. 49: Guile, exr

He was the only one left to clean up the mess. How could he leave the scene? He reassured the crowd as he ranted, completely exhausted, “Young Master Wei really is too impulsive. How could he speak in such a way in front of so many sects?” Lan WangJi spoke coldly, “Was he wrong?” Jin GuangYao paused almost unnoticeably. He immediately laughed, “Haha. Yes, he’s right. But it’s because he’s right that he can’t say it in front of them, correct?”

—Chapt. 72: Recklessness, exr

Jin GuangShan shook his head, “In an event as important as the Flower Banquet, he dared throw a fit right in front of you, leaving however he pleased. He even dared say something like ‘I don’t care about the sect leader Jiang WanYin at all!’ Everyone who was there heard it with their own ears...” Suddenly, an indifferent voice spoke up, “No.” Jin GuangShan was in the middle of his fabrication. Hearing this, he paused in surprise, turning along with the crowd to see who it was. Lan WangJi sat with his back straight, speaking in a tone of absolute tranquility, “I did not hear Wei Ying say this. I did not hear him express the slightest disrespect towards Sect Leader Jiang either.” Lan WangJi rarely spoke when he was outside. Even when they debated cultivation techniques during Discussion Conferences, he only answered when others questioned or challenged him. With utmost concision, he overcame, without fault, the lengthy arguments of others. Apart from this, he almost never spoke up. And thus, when Jin GuangShan was interrupted by him, he experienced a far greater shock than annoyance. But after all, his fabrication was exposed right in front of so many. He felt a bit awkward.

—Chapt. 73: Recklessness, exr

While most of these instances are left to be revealed in the second half of the story, it makes clear that Lan Wangji has always tried to be there to catch Wei Wuxian, even if his efforts only bore fruit during Wei Wuxian's second life.

Pt. 1

[bugbuoyx]

I don't care what side y'all are on- we need to stop using "truther" and "denier". Jewish folks have asked time and time again and y'all aren't listening, mainly because I think people are just allergic to listening to jewish people. I'm not even jewish and I've noticed that. I'm also only making this post because y'all refuse to listen to jewish people.

For context: "-Truther" and "-Denier" stem from antisemitic conspiracies. In this article by the ADL (mainly about 9-11 "truthers") directly states that antisemitism is rife in "trutherism". Quote: "Unfortunately, the antisemitism that ADL has documented for the past twenty years regarding 9/11 conspiracy theories can also be found in many of these other “truther” communities. Antisemites attribute mass shootings in the U.S., including Sandy Hook and El Paso, as well as the Charlie Hebdo attack in France, to the machinations of Jews or Zionists"

Later in the article they note that these "trutherism" movements, which transandrophobes are using to refer to trans jewish men, are directly supported by neo-nazis. Quote: "In the immediate aftermath of 9/11, white supremacist and neo-Nazi groups were quick to accept and promulgate antisemitic conspiracy theories to explain the attacks because these theories confirmed their already established belief in the inherent evil of Jews."

All of this is amid a recent rise in attacks against jewish people and synagogues. I am stating it right now, if you use these phrases you are being antisemitic. You are equating trans jewish men talking about their experiences to neo-nazis. Jewish people have already said this and I am simply repeating it because I refuse to allow antisemitism to propogate in the queer community.