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my-religion-greek-myth · 1 month ago

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Freedom far away - M

I submitted my abstract for a conference. If my abstract is selected, I'll be going to Ireland for my first-ever conference!

My nurse friend said, "If anyone gets hit their solar plexus by you, they'll die." when I just asked if a person could faint if punching their solar plexus... What kind of image do you have of me?

Fem Reader X Agatha X Rio

Warning: Depictions of blood, violence, abuse, and may be disturbing to some readers

The bustling capital city was alive with noise and energy, an enticing distraction from the quieter life in the realm. You had hoped to wander the market with Agatha and Rio by your side, basking in their steadying presence, but the timing hadn’t worked in your favour. Both had been busy with pressing matters, leaving you to venture out alone.

Agatha needed to return to her homeland for specific magical ingredients, and her sharp tone left no room for negotiation. "I’ll be back by evening," she had promised, her blue eyes softening just a fraction as she brushed your cheek. "Be careful while we’re gone, doll."

Rio had been equally regretful but no less occupied. Dressed in foreign attire of flowing black fabric and a wide-brimmed hat, she had smirked, the transformation elegant and effortless. "Diplomatic business," she’d said with a playful wink, though her dark eyes held a trace of seriousness. "Keep yourself out of trouble, pretty lady. I’ll know if you don’t."

You had nodded, smiling faintly, already missing them.

The market was usually a place of discovery and joy, but it felt emptier without them. Still, you had decided to make the best of it. The thought of welcoming them home with small gifts had given you a purpose—a basket of sweets for Agatha, who loved them almost as much as she loved teasing you, and a collection of the reddest, ripest apples for Rio, who could never resist their rich flavour.

As you moved through the bustling stalls, your hooded robe concealed your face, the fabric heavy but necessary. The fear of being recognised, of your grandfather’s people spotting you, never fully left your mind. It was suffocating at times, but the safety the robe provided was worth it.

As you wandered through the market, the vibrant colours of fruits, spices, and sweets briefly distracted you from unease. You ran your fingers along baskets of candied treats, selecting a variety of Agatha’s favourites with a small, fond smile. The glistening, blood-red apples you found shortly after seemed to glow under the sunlight, and their vivid hue reminded you of Rio’s piercing gaze. You added them to your basket carefully, imagining her delighted expression when she saw them.

Despite the constant weight of vigilance, these small moments of normalcy gave you a sense of peace. The hood shielded you from wandering eyes, and the thought of returning home with tokens of your affection for them made it all worthwhile. For now, that was enough.

But the warmth of your plans turned icy when you noticed the unease in the market crowd. It started subtly—lingering glances, averted gazes—but soon grew impossible to ignore. The whispers followed low murmurs you couldn’t quite catch but could feel prickling the back of your neck.

Your steps slowed as you approached a noticeboard near the edge of the market. A small crowd had gathered around it, and despite the warning bells in your mind, you edged closer, curiosity overtaking caution.

Your breath caught as your eyes fell on the poster. There, staring back at you, was your own face—a precise portrait that left no doubt. Beneath it, bold text displayed your name, noble title, and the promise of a generous reward for information leading to your location.

Your heart dropped.

The world seemed to blur around you as panic set in, your thoughts racing. Every glance from a stranger felt sharper, every whisper louder. The gift basket in your arms felt like a foolish weight, but you clung to it as your only anchor.

Trying to steady your breathing, you looked down at your trembling hand, willing yourself to summon magic. Agatha’s lessons flickered in your mind, and you tried to channel the energy you had practised with her and Rio. But unlike Agatha’s vivid purple haze or Rio’s confident green glow, your hand only produced a faint blue mist that fizzled out almost instantly, leaving you feeling more helpless than before.

You couldn’t stay here. You pulled your hood tighter over your head and turned away from the noticeboard, your steps quickening as fear gripped your chest. Every sound and every movement in the market felt magnified, your eyes darting to catch any sign of recognition.

The ambassador’s office. You needed to get to the black gate. You needed Agatha and Rio.

Before you could return to the safety of the ambassador’s office, a rough hand clamped over your arm, yanking you into a dark, narrow alley. Panic surged as your body twisted instinctively, trying to see the face of your attacker, but the shadows obscured their features.

Before you could conjure even a flicker of magic in your trembling hands or summon the courage to cry out for help—be it from an animal or a passing stranger—a thick cloth was pressed against your mouth and nose. The overwhelming, sickly-sweet smell of the fabric invaded your senses, and you realised too late what it was.

Your heart pounded, every fibre of your being screaming to resist, to fight. You kicked out wildly, but their grip tightened, rough and unyielding.

"Tsk, what a troublesome young lady," a voice muttered, low and gruff, the words dripping with irritation. Before you could process their meaning, a sharp blow struck your solar plexus, the force so brutal it left you gasping. The air was knocked out of your lungs, and darkness crept into the edges of your vision.

The bags of food you had bought—the sweets and apples meant for Agatha and Rio—fell from your hands, tumbling to the ground in a messy scatter. The vibrant red apples rolled away, smudged with dirt, while the neatly wrapped sweets spilled out of their packaging. It was a small, heartbreaking detail that somehow made everything feel even more cruel.

Your limbs grew heavier with each passing second, your struggles fading into futile jerks. The last thing you remembered was the rough texture of the alley wall against your shoulder, the sight of the gifts you’d dropped lying abandoned in the dirt, and the unbearable weight of helplessness as your consciousness slipped away.

---RAR---

You stirred, your body aching and disoriented, feeling the rough, uneven floor beneath your side. Something coarse and thick was tied over your mouth, muffling your breathing, and your chest still throbbed faintly, a dull pain that flared when you shifted.

Your eyes fluttered open, squinting as dim light filtered into the space around you. Through the slivers of light squeezing in through the gaps, you could make out your surroundings: a building full of old, unused farm tools and scattered objects coated in dust, forgotten by time.

With effort, you inspected your body, noticing your legs were bound tightly and your hands were tied behind your back. You shifted, testing the restraints, and an unsettling familiarity crept over you. This place…you knew it. The rough walls, the faded wood, and the scent of earth and disuse—it was a storage building at your family’s estate. Memories flickered to life; you and your sister playing here as children, hiding among the old tools and giggling as you avoided chores.

The realisation made your stomach churn. They had brought you home.

You tried to sit up, wincing at the tightness in your limbs, the ropes digging into your skin. Crawling was a struggle, but you managed to inch toward the door where the faint light seeped through the cracks. As you neared it, the light was suddenly blocked, replaced by the sound of approaching footsteps. Panic gripped you, and you stilled, heart racing, desperately feigning unconsciousness.

But it was too late. The door creaked open, and blinding daylight flooded the room. You blinked rapidly, your eyes adjusting to the brightness, and then you heard it—a voice you knew too well.

"Finally," your grandfather’s low, gravelly voice growled, filled with a seething anger that made you tremble.

Your chest tightened as he stepped inside, his silhouette cutting an imposing figure against the light. He had been searching for you all this time, never giving up. You wanted to shrink under his gaze, but you forced yourself to look up, defiant. His cold, piercing eyes bore into you, and for a moment, his fury was a physical weight pressing down on you.

"You disgraceful child," he spat, his voice rising. "Do you have any idea what you’ve done? Running away like a coward, hiding like filth? And now…this!" His words hit like blows, but what made you freeze was what came next.

Your defiance faltered, confusion flashing across your face.

This?

Before you could ask, his words cut through the air like a blade.

"A child," he hissed, his voice dripping with venom. "An illegitimate bastard growing inside you! Staining the name of this household!"

The word hit you like a thunderclap. Pregnant. Your body froze, your mind spinning as you tried to comprehend. How could he know? Then it clicked—a doctor. He must have had a physician check you while you were unconscious.

A whirlwind of emotions quickly replaced the shock, disbelief, fear, and a strange, growing awareness deep within you. Pregnant. You didn’t even have time to fully process it before the first slap landed across your face, snapping your head to the side and sending you sprawling onto the hard floor. Your lip split under the impact, and you tasted the metallic taste of blood.

He towered over you, seething with rage. "Do you know what I’ve endured because of you?" he yelled. "The royal family humiliated me, and now I have to clean up this mess you created!"

He grabbed you roughly by your arm, dragging you upright, only to strike you again and hurled you down. Pain flared across your face, the stinging sensation overwhelming. But as his furious tirade continued, your focus shifted inward. You became acutely aware of your body, of the small life he claimed was growing inside you. The idea felt surreal, but your instincts kicked in before your thoughts could catch up.

With your hands bound tightly behind you, you desperately tried to retreat, your legs scraping against the rough floor as you struggled to crawl backward. The uneven surface bit into your skin, but you didn’t care—your only thought was to get away from him. Your trembling body moved inch by inch, instinct driving you to put as much distance between you and his looming figure as possible.

His voice followed you, dripping with venom. "Crawling away like the disgrace you’ve become? Do you think you can run from this?"

You didn’t answer, focusing entirely on escape, though your bound limbs made it a hopeless endeavour. The light spilling through the door flickered as his shadow grew larger, and before you could react, a sharp, searing pain erupted in your back. His boot connected squarely with your spine, the force knocking you flat onto the floor.

The impact drove the breath from your lungs, leaving you gasping as fresh pain radiated through your body. You whimpered, curling instinctively to shield your abdomen, your bindings biting into your wrists as you twisted in desperation. His scoff rang out above you, cold and unfeeling.

"Pitiful," he spat, his voice dripping with disdain. "And still, you protect that bastard child. As if that will save you." He leave you as and left the storage with rage.

The ache in your back spread, but it was nothing compared to the fire in your chest. You clenched your teeth, your trembling body staying curled over your abdomen, silently defying him despite the agony that consumed you.

In the darkness of your mind, one thought screamed louder than all the pain: I must protect my baby.

You stupidly thought it was over. But it was far from over. Your body trembled uncontrollably as you heard the heavy thud of approaching footsteps. A moment later, an angry yell cut through the air, halting the steps. "Father, that’s enough!" Your father’s voice rang out, loud and commanding in a way you had never heard before.

You squinted through the haze of pain, your blurred vision slowly adjusting to the sight of your father stepping into the doorway. His face was pale, his jaw clenched tightly, but his eyes burned with determination as he moved closer, placing himself between you and your grandfather.

"She’s your granddaughter," he said, his voice trembling with anger and desperation. "You’ve punished her enough."

Your breath hitched as your eyes fell on the large sword clutched tightly in your grandfather’s hand. The gleaming blade, though worn with age, still carried an unmistakable air of danger. It was then you realised, with chilling clarity, that the lord of the household had retreated not to collect himself but to arm himself.

He had retrieved the sword not to intimidate but to act—to maim, or worse, to kill you by his own hand.

The weight of that realisation sent a cold shiver down your spine, freezing you in place. Your body, already weakened, trembled with the effort to remain upright. The room seemed to shrink, the air thickening as your grandfather’s icy gaze met yours.

"She is no granddaughter of mine," he snarled, his voice filled with venom. He raised the sword slightly, the blade catching the dim light and reflecting it back like a cruel promise. "She’s a disgrace, and disgrace has no place in this family."

The weight of his words hung heavily in the air, pressing down on you as your trembling body struggled to retreat further. But your father didn’t move aside. He stood firm between you and your grandfather, his arms slightly raised in a protective gesture.

"Father, please!" your father shouted, his voice trembling with fury and desperation.

Your grandfather sneered, his grip tightening on the sword in his hand. "Do you intend to defy me?" he asked coldly, his voice quieter now but no less menacing. "You forget your place. I am the lord of this household. The spymaster to the king. Or has that title lost its meaning to you?"

You froze, his words cutting through the haze, clouding your mind. Spymaster. The realisation hit you like a blow. It explained everything—his calculated manner, his ruthless control, his pointed interest in "Lord Rio." He hadn’t entertained the foreign ambassador out of hospitality; he’d been assessing her, evaluating her for reasons far more serious than you had ever realised. The truth of his identity hitting you anew, your mind replaying every interaction and every calculated word he’d spoken in the past. This wasn’t just a man consumed by rage. This was a man who wielded the power of the crown’s secrets, a man accustomed to controlling everything—and everyone—around him.

"She had disgraced this family," your grandfather continued, addressing your father as though you weren’t even there. "Her actions jeopardise everything I have built. She has brought shame to our name, and I will not allow such betrayal to go unchecked."

Your father’s fists curled tightly at his sides. "Betrayal?" he repeated, his voice cracking with fury. "What betrayal? Falling in love? Running from a life she did not choose? You have treated her like a pawn her entire life—like we are all just tools for your ambition. But this—this is madness!"

Your grandfather's eyes narrowed, his cold expression sharpening. "You think you are righteous, do you not? Do you think your sentiments hold any weight here? Let me remind you, boy. Everything you have, everything this family is, is because of me. I built this legacy and will not watch it crumble because of her."

Your father didn’t back down. "Take it all, then," he said quietly, his voice trembling with suppressed rage. "What does that title mean if it drives you to do this? To treat her as if she is not family—your own blood? I will not stand by and let you destroy her. You have already destroyed our family enough. "

"Family?" Your grandfather’s sneer deepened, his piercing eyes narrowing. "She has disgraced this family. Running off, pregnant with an illegitimate child, and flaunting her shame as though it is something to be proud of." He raised the sword slightly, his intent clear. "I’ll not have this stain tarnish what I have spent a lifetime creating."

The father and son glared at each other in heavy silence, the weight of unspoken defiance hanging thick in the air.

Lighter, faster footsteps broke the tense silence. Your sister appeared, her face pale with shock. "Grandfather, stop this!" she cried, rushing into the room to stand protectively in front of you. "You can’t hurt her anymore!"

"Move, girl," your grandfather ordered, his voice like ice. "This is not your place."

But your sister stood firm, her jaw set and her eyes burning with defiance. "It is my place," she shot back, her voice unyielding. "She’s my sister, and I won’t let you hurt her again!"

Your grandfather’s expression darkened, the lines of his face deepening with rage. Your grandfather’s rage boiled over. He stepped forward with a furious growl, the sword in his hand gleaming menacingly as he raised it slightly. "Do not test me, child," he warned, his voice low and ice-cold. "Disobedience will not be tolerated."

Your father moved to intercept, his hand gripping your grandfather’s arm to stop him. "Father, stop!" he said, his voice strained but resolute. "You’ll destroy this family with your madness!"

Your grandfather wrenched his arm free by roughly shoving your father to the ground, his fury intensifying. "It is you and your failure as a father that have brought this disgrace upon us!" he spat, his venomous gaze flicking between you and your sister. "If you will not restore order, I will."

Your sister’s knees shook, but she refused to move, her determination unshaken even as the tension in the room reached its breaking point. For a moment, all you could hear was the sound of your own laboured breathing, the pain in your body overshadowed by the chaos unfolding around you.

Your grandfather raised the sword high, ready to strike. Your father lunged forward, but in the chaos, everything became unbalanced. And somehow, despite the searing pain in your body, you found the strength to move. Your legs, still bound, propelled you forward on instinct.

Your body screamed, dragging yourself between your sister and the descending blade. The world slowed as the sharp edge tore into your back. Your eyes locked with your sister's widened eyes. Pain, unlike anything you’d ever felt, exploded through you, radiating outward in a searing wave.

Your body crumpled to the ground as screams filled the air. The sharp metallic scent of blood overwhelmed your senses. Your sister’s wailing cry and your father’s panicked shout barely registered over the roar of pain. You felt the world dimming, your vision blurring as you curled instinctively to shield your abdomen.

The crash reverberated in your ears as the storage building groaned under the pressure of whatever had caused the disturbance. Shouts of alarm mingled with the eerie hum of magic that seemed to fill every corner of the building. You felt the vibrations through the floor, each a drumbeat pounding against your trembling body.

Then, they appeared.

Agatha’s silhouette emerged first, framed by a violet glow that cast long, jagged shadows against the walls. Her hair whipped around her face as if caught in a tempest, her blue eyes burning with an unnatural intensity—tendrils of purple magic crackled and twisted around her hands, hissing like serpents ready to strike.

Behind her, Rio strode in, her dark eyes blazing with fury. Her presence sucked the air, her steps deliberate, exuding power and danger. Her eyes scanned the storage, landing on you briefly before hardening as they returned to your grandfather. She didn’t speak, but her presence alone was a promise of retribution.

Rio moved swiftly, her sharp features softening as she knelt beside you. "I’ve got you, love," she murmured, her voice trembling slightly as her hands began to glow with a faint green light. She pressed them gently to your back, her magic surging into the wound in an attempt to heal it. But the damage was too severe. Her jaw tightened, frustration flickering across her face as the blood refused to stop, the warmth of your body slipping away with every passing moment.

"Stay with me," she whispered, her voice breaking. "Please."

As Death, her healing magic was naturally weaker than others, a cruel irony that gnawed at her now. She cursed under her breath, her brown eyes darkening as she poured every ounce of strength into the effort. But the bleeding persisted, and your hand grew colder with each passing second.

"Enough," Agatha’s voice sliced the thick tension like a blade, cold and commanding. The power in her tone sent a shiver down your spine, and even your grandfather, who had been so sure of his control, hesitated. His eyes widened as he took in the sight of her. Agatha stepped forward, her boots crunching against the scattered debris on the floor. The purple glow surrounding her illuminated the room in flickering light, casting an almost ethereal quality to her presence. Her sharp gaze didn’t waver as she stared your grandfather down. "You’ve done enough damage," she said, her voice low but dripping with venom. "And now you will answer for it."

Your grandfather, ever defiant, straightened his posture despite the tension in his jaw. "Who are you to barge into my household and speak of damage?" he spat, his voice shaky yet laced with anger. "This is my family, my bloodline. She is mine to discipline."

Agatha laughed coldly. "Yours?" she echoed, her magic flaring brighter, sending sparks into the air. "She’s not yours. She never was. You’ve treated her as nothing but a pawn in your games of power, but that ends now."

Rio’s voice cut through, low and dripping with menace. "You think you can beat her, maim her, even kill her, and call it discipline?" Her darkened eyes glinted dangerously, but her touch was a stark contrast—gentle, almost reverent, as she caressed your cheek. Her magic pulsed faintly, flowing into your battered body like a soothing current, assuring you that, despite everything, you would survive. Her gaze flicked back to your grandfather, her tone darkening further. "That ends today."

Your father, caught between terror and awe, stammered, "Who—what are you?" His voice cracked as his gaze darted between Agatha’s purple fury and Rio’s emerald soothing energy.

Agatha turned her head slightly, her eyes flicking to him with disdain. "We are the ones who will undo the damage you allowed," she said, her words laced with judgment. "And if you truly care for your daughter, you will stay out of our way."

Agatha turned her full attention to your grandfather, her expression cold and merciless. The purple tendrils of her magic coiled tighter around him, constricting his throat. His bloodied sword slipped from his grasp, clattering to the ground as the force of her magic lifted him into the air. He clawed desperately at the invisible grip, his face reddening as his breath grew shallow.

"You… monster!" he rasped, his voice barely audible through the choking force.

Agatha’s eyes narrowed, the glowing blue intensifying as her fury radiated through the building. "Monster?" she echoed. "You dare call me a monster? After what you’ve done? Look at yourself," her voice low and venomous, each word cutting like a blade.

Her magic crackled violently, the air around her heavy with unrelenting power. The walls seemed to shudder in response, the building groaning under the sheer weight of her rage. "You beat her and tried to kill her—and for what? Your pride? Your ego? Tell me, who is the real monster here?" Her words hung in the air, heavy and damning, as the tendrils tightened further, forcing a strangled gasp from his lips.

"Agatha," you croaked weakly, your voice trembling. Despite the overwhelming pain, you forced yourself to meet her gaze. "Please… don’t…"

Her magic flickered as her expression wavered. She looked at you, her hands trembling. "You don’t understand," she said, her voice cracking. "He doesn’t deserve to live."

"Agatha!" Rio’s voice cut through sharply, her tone laced with urgency. "She’s lost too much blood. We need to go—now!"

Agatha hesitated, torn between her rage and your plea. But your weak, teary gaze was enough to break through. The magic around your grandfather dissipated, and he crumpled to the ground, gasping for air. Agatha turned back to you, her expression a mix of guilt and anguish.

Agatha dropped to her knees beside Rio, her hands already glowing with purple light. Her rage was momentarily set aside as she focused on you, her touch surprisingly gentle as her magic intertwined with Rio’s green glow. The energy washed over your body, soothing some of the pain and stabilising you, though the amount of blood loss and the deep exhaustion remained.

"You’ll be fine," Agatha murmured, her voice uncharacteristically soft. Her fingers brushed your hair from your face as she worked, her sharp eyes narrowing with determination. "We’ve got you."

Rio, still kneeling, glanced up at your family, her expression cold and unreadable. "We’re taking her home," she announced sharply, her voice a chilling contrast to her tender hold on you. "If any of you even think about coming after her again, you’ll regret it."

Your grandfather, who had been gasping for breath moments ago, steadied himself. Despite the magic that had subdued him earlier, his rage burned hot and unrelenting. His lips curled into a sneer, his eyes darting between Rio and Agatha with venomous hatred. "You think you can take care of her?" your grandfather snarled, his voice trembling with fury. "A girl carrying an illegitimate bastard that isn’t your blood?"

The words echoed in the air like a curse, each syllable sinking heavily.

Agatha’s magic faltered for a heartbeat, the crackling tendrils of energy flickering as her sharp blue eyes snapped to your grandfather. Her hands froze mid-motion, the deadly rage in her expression giving way to something unreadable. "What did you say?" she asked, her voice dangerously quiet, a cold edge making it cut through the tension like a blade.

Rio’s entire body stiffened, her arms instinctively tightening around you as though to shield you from the weight of the revelation. Her dark brown eyes widened in shock, the fury momentarily replaced with stunned disbelief. "Pregnant?" she whispered, her voice barely audible over the humming of residual magic in the air. She lowered her gaze to you, her expression softening as if searching your face for confirmation.

Yourr trembling hand moving to rest protectively over your abdomen. "I didn’t know…" you murmured, your voice cracking with emotion. "I only found out because of him."

Rio’s gaze flickered from your tear-streaked face to your grandfather, her shock quickly morphing back into a smouldering rage. Her lips curled into a snarl, and her grip on you tightened. "You knew she was pregnant," she growled, her voice low and venomous. "And you still hurt her?"

Agatha’s expression darkened, the flicker of hesitation vanishing as her magic roared back to life, more violent and volatile than before. The tendrils snapped and coiled like vipers, wrapping around your grandfather once more and dragging him higher off the ground. His gasps turned to choking wheezes as her power constricted his throat.

"You knew," Agatha said, her voice a deadly whisper that vibrated with barely contained fury. She took a step closer, the air around her crackling with energy. "You knew she was carrying a child—our child—and you still did this to her?" Her voice rose, each word sharper and more venomous than the last. "You are beyond redemption."

Rio shifted her focus back to you, her features softening as she caressed your cheek gently, her touch a stark contrast to the fury burning in her eyes. "We’re taking you home," she said firmly, her voice trembling with a mix of anger and protectiveness. "You’ll never have to face this bastard again."

Agatha, however, didn’t move. Her magic grew brighter, more intense, as her rage consumed her. "This ends here," she hissed, her voice filled with a dark finality. "He will never hurt you again. He will never hurt anyone again."

"Agatha," Rio called sharply, her voice cutting through the haze of power and fury surrounding her lover. "Not now. She needs us more than we need revenge."

Agatha hesitated at the mention of you, her glowing blue eyes flickering to you. Her expression softened for a fleeting moment as she saw the exhaustion and pain etched across your face. But then her gaze snapped back to your grandfather, and her fury reignited. "He doesn’t deserve to live after what he’s done," she growled.

"Agatha…" you croaked weakly, your voice barely a whisper but enough to draw her attention. Your tearful gaze locked with hers. "Please…. I just wanna go home."

Her magic faltered again, the tendrils loosening slightly as your words pierced through her anger. Agatha clenched her jaw, and the internal struggle was evident in how her hands trembled and her eyes flickered between you and your grandfather.

Finally, with a deep, shuddering breath, she let the magic dissipate. Your grandfather crumpled to the ground, coughing and gasping for air, his face pale and drenched with sweat.

"Your pitiful life has been spared—for now," Agatha spat, her voice laced with venom as she stepped back with disdain.

Rio adjusted her hold on you, her eyes blazing as she looked over your family. "This is the last time any of you will see her," she said coldly.

Your sister stood frozen in shock, her wide eyes flicking between you and your lovers, while your father looked torn, his mouth opening as if to speak but no words coming out.

As Agatha and Rio carried you out, you felt your strength slipping away, the world around you fading into a blur of light and shadow. The last thing you saw before darkness claimed you was the resolute determination on their faces—a silent promise that they would protect you, no matter the cost.

#agatha harkness x rio vidal x reader #agatha harkness #agatha harkness x reader #agatha harkness x rio vidal #agatha x rio #fem reader

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relenafanel · 3 months ago

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As promised, the threadfic from my Twitter/X account. I just copy/pasted all of it, so the flow might feel a little weird due to the word limit and ~dramatic pauses~ you know the drill.

Modern AU - wangxian, classical musician lwj x idol wwx

Secret fanboy!lwj finds out the family connection to idol wwx.

thread ⤵️

______________

Lan Zhan doesn’t use social media often. He has a professional account that he posts his appearance schedules to, where he follows other musicians of his calibre. His cohort will tag him in posts, some of them professional and some of them personal, but he rarely answers.

His professional bio has a link, so he amasses followers anyway. Such is the price of being a famous classical musician.

“It’s because you’re young and hot,” NHS reminds him during an event they’re both obligated to attend when he expresses his disinterest at his 15k followers.

Lan Zhan doesn’t know what being either of those things has to do with his field.

No one is looking at his face when he’s playing music!

👀 <- nhs’s expression in response to that.

It’s late and he’s stuck in an airport. Despite having a set bedtime, he’s not the type to sleep while in public, and the annoyance and disregulation of the flight delay have made it so he’s having trouble focusing on reading. In a rare instance, he ends up scrolling his socials.

Wei Wuxian is trending #1.

Lan Zhan doesn’t know who that is so he ignores it.

“Dizi” is trending #5. Lan Zhan’s eyebrows go up in vague surprise. He’s aware of how little the world cares about traditional music, even if he thinks they’re all wrong. So of course he clicks on it.

The video that opens is of a man playing something slow and upbeat on a dizi. His expression shows that he’s entranced with the music he’s playing and that he’s enjoying himself.

And oh

He’s beautiful.

It should NOT matter to Lan Zhan. He’s only ever cared about the music. But it matters. It feels like the dizi is being jabbed into his solar plexus with every second the man plays with his lovely face and long, graceful fingers

He finishes the video, surprised to see it’s almost 4 minutes long. The man holds his final note with impressive breath control. Then he laughs, gasping for breath. “It’s been ages since I’ve tried that” he says.

It hits LZ that this isn’t a normal video

Or, it’s far too professional of a set up for most amateur instrument players. Compared to his own v expensive marketing the lighting and sound is 🙌🏻 quality.

Lan Zhan glances down to read the discription to find the man’s name.

Wei Wuxian.

He isn’t clueless about the internet. He realizes that wwx must be someone. Someone big enough to trend #1 and make the word dizi trend at all. He should dismiss it as a lovely moment and move on.

He doesn’t dismiss it.

Instead, he watches it again.

He goes back to trending topics and clicks into the WWX tag.

He watches more videos. He reads comments.

He learns.

By the time his flight boards he's learned:

WWX is an idol turned actor

He's never played the dizi publicly before

His fans aren't shocked to learn he CAN because he typically pulls out random skills from no where

LWJ is SUPER attracted to him.

Before he gets on the plane he likes the video and it feels like a big deal. He stares at it for a moment and thinks about sharing it.

He thinks, and thinks, and ends up feeling like it's too big of a step that would tell all his followers exactly how he feels.

(worse, it would also tell his brother, who sometimes teases him for being young and so disconnected from modern music.)

That should be the end of it. He airport-exhaustion flirts with being attracted to an actor, he rationalizes himself out of it in the cold light of day.

It's not the end of it.

A timeline of lwj's fall into fanboying: 💎he lurks for a week, going video to video/post to post 💎he considers putting wwx's pic as his phone background; doesn't 💎he makes a burner account to like posts so he won't lose them 💎he likes a lot of posts

💎he gets furious when someone says something bad about wwx and thinks about answering; doesn't 💎does 💎does 💎he has RECEIPTS 💎he considers getting a burner phone so his brother can't look over his shoulder so he can save images; doesn't 💎hopelessly thinks wwx is GORGEOUS

has the following convo with LXC: LXC: i see you liked the video of wwx playing the dizi LWJ, ice spreading through his extremities: you have not spoken of him before - is he a friend? LXC: no, he's - nevermind

Maybe the first time he managed to get one over on his nosy brother

It feels thrilling to him, this secret life.

💎He plays the same song on his guqin that wwx played on the dizi and thinks about filming and posting it; doesn't. 💎He goes to see wwx's most recent movie in theatres; hates the experience but enjoys seeing him anyway

💎sees an announcement for a fanmeet out of an auditorium he plays and considers buying a ticket; doesn't 💎regrets; doesn't change his mind 💎on the day of the fanmeet he stays away. he has access - it's a surprising test of wills for him

until he gets called in for a favor

The favor* is to pre-record a short accompaniment on the guqin. It should have been done far in advance, it wasn't. It's very wwx to do something fantastic at the last second. lwj should feel more annoyed by the haste but is instead charmed.

*he is getting paid.

He's standing in the corridor w his guqin when wwx's entourage arrives, walking quickly past.

He looks.

His heart races. His palms sweat.

wwx meets his eyes and smiles, friendly & impersonal.

lwj stands there after he leaves for what feels like a long time but prob isn't.

He thinks about it for days. should he have said something? should he have asked for his ad hoc contract to include 5 minutes of time?

It all seems so impossible. force inserting himself into a moment of wwx's life makes him feel ill.

He wishes.

(he doesn't know)

[time skip]

LXC asks him if he'd be willing to play a few songs at his boyfriend's brother's son's bday party, stresses that he's not the entertainment. He agrees. It's very likely that LXC will force him along to socialize and at least if he's playing he won't need to talk.

The Jins are ostentatious; the party is not.

"friends & family," lxc explains. "JYL's brother is famous. you don't know him."

he WOULDN'T, his brother is right. He doesn't think about the surety of the phrasing until he walks through the door and comes face to face with WWX.

LWJ stills.

WWX pauses mid-sentence and looks at him. "I saw you at the fanmeet," he blurts out, surprised.

Everyone turns to stare at him. His ears flame hot. "I recorded the guqin piece."

He doesn't say how beautiful wwx is in person

"Oh thank you! I know it was so last minute. A lifesaver. A prince!" wwx effuses.

This seems to be a good enough explanation for everyone but LXC who is still staring at him. He feels pleased. His brother can tell.

He bows briefly at the praise.

Later, wwx approaches where he's sitting. "I thought you might like to hear the song."

"I heard it," he says. Wishes he hadn't. wwx was going to play it for him and he spoke without thinking. He knows better.

"Oh, did your management share it?"

"It's online."

It isn't online.

Or, it is online, but only in a certain kind of fan recording.

"You wanted to hear it that badly?"

Yes. It's the cumulation of both their talents. He's never felt that level of impatience in his life. "Yes," he says simply.

"OH!" wwx gasps delighted. "It's so good, isn't it?"

"Mn," he agrees.

"I'm going to release it. Do a concert with me!" WWX asks, shining. "Oh! An album!"

He can't. "I follow you on social media," he tells wwx, tone grave.

"You say that like it's bad. 30 million ppl follow me on social media." He pulls out his phone. Frowns.

"It doesn't say we're mutuals," he shows LWJ.

LWJ pulls out his phone and shows it to WWX.

"A FAN ACCOUNT" WWX crows in delight. "oh my god that's amazing. That's so good. You have to make music with me now that I know you like me. Yes, right? You're going to say yes?"

"Yes."

He doesn't realize until later, when he's home and still reeling from how overwhelming wwx's presence is, that he doesn't have a new follower notification on his main account.

How long has wwx been following him?

"Oh, since you played at [x] Gala two years ago. You were breathtaking. I was a guest." wwx tells him when he finally asks. "You didn't notice?"

"No."

"Haha I asked your brother when I met him and he said you wouldn't." wwx thinks this is the most hilarious thing.

"You notice me now, right gege?" wwx asks, fluttering his eyelashes.

LWJ kisses him.

[fin] 💝💝

(also share on X if you're so inclined. it's been retweeted once at this point and that's v sad 😭😂)

#wei wuxian #wangxian #lan wangji #mdzs #relenafanel writes wangxian #relenafanel writes threadfics

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brookstonalmanac · 12 days ago

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Holidays 12.29

Holidays

Assembly of Notables Day

Boba Fett Day

Bowling Ball Day

Broadway Day

Day of the Information and Media Structures of the Ministry of Defense and the AFU (Ukraine)

ESP Day (Eating, Sleeping, Partying)

Festival of Autonomous Media

Fifth Day of Christmas

Game Day

Genista Heath Day

Illegal Pants Day

International Cello Day

Kagyed Dance (Sikkim, India)

Literati Day

Mother’s Day (Serbia)

Nano Day

National “Get on the Scales” Day

National Ha Day

National Hero Day

National Paula Day

National Tik-Tok Day

Paternoster Row Day

Peace Day (Cambodia)

Saltpeter Day (French Republic)

Still Need To Do Day

Tick Tock Day

Wounded Knee Massacre Anniversary Day

YMCA Day

Yodel in the Shower Day

Food & Drink Celebrations

Gnocchi Day (Argentina)

I Love Vegetables Day

National Chocolate Again Day

National Fried Okra Day

Pepper Pot Day

World Day of the Pepper Shaker

Independence & Related Days

Constitution Day (Ireland)

Mongolia (from the Qing Dynasty, 1911)

San Pedro Cityhood Day (Philippines)

Texas Statehood Day (#28; 1845)

New Year’s Days

New Year Holiday (Russia; Transdniestria)

5th & Last Sunday in December

King Mango Strut (Coconut Grove, Florida) [Last Sunday]

Last Sunday of the Year [Last Sunday]

Seven For Sunday [Every Sunday]

Souper Sunday [Last Sunday of Each Month]

Sultry Sunday [Last Sunday of Each Month]

Sundae Sunday [Every Sunday]

Sunday Funday [Every Sunday]

Weekly Holidays beginning December 29 (4th Full Week of December)

Last Week of the Year (thru 1.4) [Last Week of the Year]

Festivals Beginning December 29, 2024

Comiket [Comic Market] (Tokyo, Japan) [thru 12.30]

Edinburgh’s Hogmanay (Edinburgh, Scotland) [thru 1.1]

Northern Bass (Mangawhai, New Zealand) [thru 12.31]

Rhythm and Vines (Gisborne, New Zealand) [thru 12.31]

Feast Days

Albert Tucker (Artology)

Broussais (Positivist; Saint)

David Alfaro Siqueiros (Artology)

David, King and prophet (Catholic, Lutheran)

Day of the Nymphs (Ancient Greece; Everyday Wicca)

Ebrulf (Christian; Saint)

Evroul (Christian; Saint)

Feast of the Holy Family (Christian)

Fifth Day of Christmas

Guising and Mumming Play Day (Celtic Book of Days)

International Jewish Book Day [5 Tevet]

Jean-Baptiste Pater (Artology)

Jenny Lawson (Writerism)

Jonathan, Prince of Israel (Christian; Saint)

Julia Wertz (Artology)

Keith Milow (Artology)

Kwanzaa, Day 4: Ujamaa (Cooperative Economy)

Marcellus Akimetes, Abbot of Accemetes (Christian; Saint)

The Mosquitos (Muppetism)

Rasputin Deaths Day (Starza Pagan Book of Days)

Sacrifice to Zeus Horios (Ancient Greece)

Skadi’s Blot (Pagan)

Thomas Becket (Christian; Saint)

Trophimus of Arles (Christian; Saint)

Twelve Holy Days #4 (Cancer, the solar plexus; Esoteric Christianity)

Twelvetide, Day #5; Feast of St. Thomas Becket (a.k.a. the Twelve Days of Christmas or Christmastide) [until 1.5]

Vanessa del Rio Day (Church of the SubGenius; Saint)

Vera Brittain (Writerism)

William Gaddis (Writerism)

Yad Sdrawkcab (Pastafarian)

Hebrew Calendar Holidays [Begins at Sundown Day Before]

Hanukkah, Day #5 (a.k.a. Chanukah; Judaism) [thru Jan. 2nd] (Light 5 Candles at Dusk) [28-29 Kislev]

Lucky & Unlucky Days

Sakimake (先負 Japan) [Bad luck in the morning, good luck in the afternoon.]

Premieres

Adventures of Kathlyn (1st Movie Serial; 1913)

Animal Farm (Animated Film; 1954)

Beyond the Sea (Film; 2004)

The Book of Boba Fest (TV Series; 2021)

The Entertainer, by Scott Joplin copyrighted (Song; 1902)

Everyday Horton in Buried Treasure (Adult Animated Cartoon; 1929)

Explorers on the Moon, by Hergé (Graphic Novel; 1954) [Tintin #17]

The First Robin (Terrytoons Cartoon; 1939)

The Good, the Bad and the Ugly (Film; 1967)

La Mascotte, by Edmund Audran (Opera; 1880)

Mars (Oswald the Lucky Rabbit Cartoon; 1930)

Martian Through Georgia (WB LT Cartoon; 1962)

Mr. Holland’s Opus (Film; 1995)

Mr. Popper's Penguins, by Richard & Florence Atwater (Children’s Book; 1938)

Mysterious Mose (Betty Boop Cartoon; 1930)

New York Daily Gazette (Daily Newspaper; 1788)

Pan’s Labyrinth (Film; 2006)

A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man, by James Joyce (Novel; 1916)

Richard III (Film; 1995)

Star Wars: The Book of Boba Fest (TV Series; 2021)

String Quartet in G Minor, by Claude Debussy (String Quartet; 1893)

The Sunday Express (UK Weekly Newspaper; 1918)

The Sunny South (Terrytoons Cartoon; 1933)

Trans, by Neil Young (Album; 1982)

Treat Me Right, by Pat Benatar (Song; 1980)

12 Monkeys (Film; 1995)

Violin Sonata No. 10 (Opus 96), by Ludwig van Beethoven (Sonata; 1812)

Wild Elephinks (Fleischer Popeye Cartoon; 1933)

Today’s Name Days

David, Jonathan, Thomas (Austria)

David, Davor, Toma (Croatia)

Judita (Czech Republic)

Noa (Denmark)

Merili, Merle, Merli, Mirle (Estonia)

Rauha (Finland)

David (France)

David, Jessica, Tamara (Germany)

Tamara, Tamás (Hungary)

Davide, Tommaso (Italy)

Ileana, Ilgona, Ilgone, Solveiga (Latvia)

Gaja, Gentvainas, Teofilė (Lithuania)

Vemund, Vidar (Norway)

Domawit, Dominik, Gosław, Jonatan, Marcin, Tomasz, Trofim (Poland)

Marina (Russia)

Milada (Slovakia)

David, Tomás (Spain)

Natalia, Natalie (Sweden)

Georgina (Ukraine)

Dave, David, Davida, Davion, Davis, Davy, Dawson, Dayton, Jess, Jesse, Jessica, Jessie, Jessy, Vida (USA)

Today is Also…

Day of Year: Day 364 of 2024; 2 days remaining in the year

ISO: Day 7 of Week 52 of 2024

Celtic Tree Calendar: Ruis (Elder) [Day 8 of 28]

Chinese: Month 11 (Bing-Zi), Day 29 (Ding-Mao)

Chinese Year of the: Dragon 4722 (until January 29, 2025) [Wu-Chen]

Hebrew: 28 Kislev 5785

Islamic: 27 Jumada II 1446

J Cal: 4 Fest; Foursday [4 of 6]

Julian: 16 December 2024

Moon: 2%: Waning Crescent

Positivist: 28 Bichat (13th Month) [Gall]

Runic Half Month: Eihwaz or Eoh (Yew Tree) [Day 7 of 15]

Season: Winter (Day 9 of 90)

Week: Last Week of December

Zodiac: Capricorn (Day 8 of 30)

#Holidays

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queerlyloud · 1 year ago

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To continue my random intermittent mxtx posting binges, I am once again sozzled and watching cql and I just noticed something I've never realized before and it punched me in the solar plexus. So we all remember the scene where Wei Wuxian gives Wen Qing the special satchet to protect Wen Ning, and we see how she hold it in her hands and lightly caresses it, right before the camera cuts away to Jiang Wanyin BUYING HER A GIFT.

MAJOR CQL/MDZS SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

Okay, so we know that Jiang Wanyin and Wei Wuxian are narrative foils in a lot of ways but one way I never noticed was that they even juxtapose how Wei Wuxian and Jiang Wanyin each desire to befriend Wen Qing and how they approach that with a gift. Wei Wuxian's attempt to befriend Wen Qing is so overtly unsexual that I never even realized these two scenes were side by side so we can see the differences in how they view and approach Wen Qing. Neither of them know her yet, but they both want to for different reasons. So I want to do a quick side-by-side comparison and breakdown of how the gift giving foreshadowed the entirety of each character's arcs with Wen Qing.

1. The Initiative of Each Approach:

1a. Wei Wuxian approached Wen Qing in the chamber where she was tending her sick brother. He went out of his way and made the actual real effort to visit and speak to her about her brother and had even thought enough about doing it beforehand to prepare a handmade gift specifically for her brother. This required a lot of thought and action already, and he doesn't even know if she'll give him the chance to know them yet. He's already investing real time and energy into a potential relationship with them.

1b. Jiang Wanyin's awakened interest was caused by a chance encounter, and the effort he makes is by chance, too, at a time that is convenient to him since he was already strolling in the market. He did have to work up the courage to approach the stall and buy the comb, but he is so mortified and worried about how other people might see him that he dithers long enough for us to not even see him actually purchase the comb. Like all his future efforts with Wen Qing, he will only do what is convenient and will only do it where it is invisible and no one can say anything to him about it. When it comes to how other people see him, he waits too long and thus loses his chance.

2. The Motivation of Each Approach:

2a. Wei Wuxian is not interested in Wen Qing for her own sake. Instead, he is concerned about her younger brother being ill and in the middle of a brewing conflict. Wei Wuxian looked at Wen Ning, saw an innocent young man in trouble, and decided that there was no other recourse than to offer his aid to the boy's more world wise elder sister with whom he could work to protect Wen Ning. Wei Wuxian may have poked at Wen Qing while she was poking around where she shouldn't have been on the back hill, but what ultimately drove him to seek her approval was the desire to save her brother.

2b. Jiang Wanyin's interest, on the other hand, is purely in Wen Qing, the pretty and talented young doctor. He purchases a comb in her colors, an aesthetic choice that showed that he recognized her background, and in a shape (the comb itself) that expressed romantic interest. His interest was only ever in Wen Qing, never in anyone that belonged to her.

3. The Ultility of Each Approach:

3a. Wei Wuxian's gift is a functional item that he himself took the time to handmake specifically to serve a purpose that is important to Wen Qing. Again, he had to think about what would be useful to them, gather the materials, craft it, and then approach them to offer it with the full understanding that the gift might be refused.

3b. Jiang Wanyin did what any normal teenager with a crush would do and saw a thing that reminded him of his crush and bought it for her with no idea if it would be useful to her. I cannot emphasize how normal and healthy this perfectly average teenage behavior was, I'll give this one to Jiang Wanyin, 100/10, you are living the teenage experience, good job, king, so proud of you for this. But it was, unfortunately, not the correct approach for Wen Qing who is already a traumatized war hostage in her own sect at this point (Wei Wuxian and Wen Qing's complementary instinctive trauma bonding is a topic for another post).

4. The Reception of Each Approach:

4a. Although she was suspicious and afraid, Wen Qing still ended up accepting Wei Wuxian's gift because, even if she didn't yet know where she would end up during the war, Wei Wuxian still managed to convince her even in that one interaction that he only wanted to help her younger brother. Wen Qing had her brother continue to carry that protective item even after he died.

4b. It is important to note that Wen Qing did not reject Jiang Wanyin's attempt outright. She gave him time and chances to prove that his gift was more than it seemed, that it could mean something more than just a gifted comb. Ultimately, because Jiang Wanyin fails to rise to the opportunities Wen Qing allows him, she ends up rejecting his gift because in the end, whatever feelings the comb represented meant nothing when they were not backed by action.

5. The Conclusion of Each Approach:

5a. From the beginning, Wei Wuxian acted in the interest of people under Wen Qing's protection. He worked alongside her to protect the people she loved all the way to the end, just like he gave Wen Ning the gift that remained with him until and beyond his death.

5b. Jiang Wanyin hesitated to take action on Wen Qing's behalf because he was too afraid of what others would think of him. He thought only of Wen Qing, giving her a gift that was just for her and generally aesthetic rather than functional. No matter how real the feelings or good the intentions, the gift was useless to her and she rejected it outright once she knew that for sure.

Ultimately, the way to Wen Qing's heart, for better or worse, has always been her people, and Wei Wuxian, with no other motives or intentions, helped her protect them from the very first day of their friendship and continued to do so long after she left the world. And the way they foreshadowed all of that with just those two scenes is so cool, 100000000/10, will watch this show smashed again and again and again.

#mine #mxtx meta #mdzs meta #cql meta #the untamed #cql #wei wuxian #jiang wanyin #wen qing #wen ning #the symbolism and foreshadowing inherent in gift giving #i love this stuff so much #accidental poll at the bottom btw #i accidentally clicked the poll button while typing and couldnt figure out how to erase it #ah well

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if-you-fan-a-fire · 1 year ago

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"...at a revolution two paths are possible. So indeed they are in evolution – one can either stay still and be classical, academic and null, or go forward. But at a time of revolution it is not possible to stay still, one must either go forward, or back. To us this choice appears as a choice between Communism and Fascism, either to create the future or to go back to old primitive values, to mythology, racialism, nationalism, hero-worship, and participation mystique. This Fascist art is like the regression of the neurotic to a previous level of adaptation.

It is D. H. Lawrence’s importance as an artist that he was well aware of the fact that the pure artist cannot exist to-day, and that the artist must inevitably be a man hating cash relationships and the market, and profoundly interested in the relations between persons. Moreover, he must be a man not merely profoundly interested in the relations between persons as they are, but interested in changing them, dissatisfied with them as they are, and wanting newer and fuller values in personal relationships.

But it is Lawrence’s final tragedy that his solution was ultimately Fascist and not Communist. It was regressive. Lawrence wanted us to return to the past, to the ‘Mother’. He sees human discontent as the yearning of the solar plexus for the umbilical connexion, and he demands the substitution for sharp sexual love of the unconscious fleshy identification of foetus with mother. All this was symbolic of regression, of neurosis, of the return to the primitive.

Lawrence felt that the Europe of to-day was moribund; and he turned therefore to other forms of existence, in Mexico, Etruria and Sicily, where he found or thought he found systems of social relations in which life flowed more easily and more meaningfully. The life of Bourgeois Europe seemed to him permeated with possessiveness and rationalising, so that it had got out of gear with the simple needs of the Body. In a thousand forms he repeats this indictment of a civilisation which consciously and just because it is conscious – sins against the instinctive currents which are man’s primal source of energy. It is a mistake to suppose that Lawrence preaches the gospel of sex. Bourgeois Europe has had its bellyful of sex, and a sex cult would not now attract the interest and emotional support which Lawrence’s teaching received. Lawrence’s gospel was purely sociological. Even sex was too conscious for him..." - Christopher Caudwell, "D. H. Lawrence: A Study of the Bourgeois Artist,” in Studies in a Dying Culture. First published posthumously by Bodley Head in 1938.

#christopher caudwell #communist party of great britain #d. h. lawrence #literary criticism #marxism #marxist criticism #literary quote #bourgeois culture #bourgeois society #anti-intellectualism #capitalism #fascism

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kyrianne · 2 months ago

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Sometimes if something is objectively extremely sugary/spicy/sour, your mouth will react in a way that feels similar to allergic reaction, but isn’t — it’s hyperstimulation of your maxillary nerve plexus, which is the bundle of nerves that attaches to your tongue and runs up your jaw and under your soft palate toward the brain to interpret taste signals. If it gets overwhelmed, it’s kind of the same thing as hitting your funny bone, or pins and needles from sitting on your leg too long.

It does feel remarkably similar to Oral Allergy Syndrome though so don’t just write it off as nothing. But if you’re eating candy you like to eat frequently, and you’re eating a lot of it, and then experience that seemingly out of nowhere? It’s prooobably just your maxillary nerve plexus telling you to slow your roll.

Another fun thing to consider is Mast Cell Activation Syndrome, which is when your body overproduces histamines, the part of your immune system that responds to external threats. Histamines drive the same process for coughing and sneezing out the pathogens if you get sick as you might experience seasonally if you’re allergic to any plant pollen.

Most of the time, when you’re allergic to something, it’s because your immune system accidentally encoded that thing as being a pathogen that requires the same immediate response to get it the fuck outta there. But with MCAS, your system just makes too much histamine in general and has a hard time flushing it when it’s not used, so it builds up and can cause reactions to things that you aren’t technically even allergic to, because it’s not in your immune system banned list.

Also, fun and weird fact, histamines within the brain are also used to regulate your sleep cycle, which is why antihistamines make you drowsy. Additionally, antihistamines that claim they are non-drowsy probably still are, but they’re marketed at a low enough dose that they won’t cause that, but that also means they’re less effective. Claritin/cetirizine is one of those where the dosage in OTC form is half the amount originally studied, specifically to avoid having to report it as causing drowsiness, but it doesn’t really do as much. The reason benadryl makes you ESPECIALLY drowsy is not only because it’s the higher dose, but because it’s one of the oldest antihistamines still out there, so it’s punch-you-in-the-nose style treatment where newer meds have tinkered longer to try to make the experience less unpleasant and more precise in what it affects. Think picking a lock versus shooting it to get past a locked door.

PSA: tomatoes are not spicy. Tomatoes and tomato products should not be spicy. Pizza sauce isn’t inherently spicy. Tomato-based pasta sauce is not spicy. Ketchup is NOT spicy.

If tomatoes are spicy, you have an allergy to tomatoes.

This announcement brought to you by my almost 29-year-old husband learning for the first time in his 2.8 decades of putting food products into his mouth that spaghetti and saucy pizza aren’t spicy foods

#mcas #allergies

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brookston · 12 days ago

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Holidays 12.29

Holidays

Assembly of Notables Day

Boba Fett Day

Bowling Ball Day

Broadway Day

Day of the Information and Media Structures of the Ministry of Defense and the AFU (Ukraine)

ESP Day (Eating, Sleeping, Partying)

Festival of Autonomous Media

Fifth Day of Christmas

Game Day

Genista Heath Day

Illegal Pants Day

International Cello Day

Kagyed Dance (Sikkim, India)

Literati Day

Mother’s Day (Serbia)

Nano Day

National “Get on the Scales” Day

National Ha Day

National Hero Day

National Paula Day

National Tik-Tok Day

Paternoster Row Day

Peace Day (Cambodia)

Saltpeter Day (French Republic)

Still Need To Do Day

Tick Tock Day

Wounded Knee Massacre Anniversary Day

YMCA Day

Yodel in the Shower Day

Food & Drink Celebrations

Gnocchi Day (Argentina)

I Love Vegetables Day

National Chocolate Again Day

National Fried Okra Day

Pepper Pot Day

World Day of the Pepper Shaker

Independence & Related Days

Constitution Day (Ireland)

Mongolia (from the Qing Dynasty, 1911)

San Pedro Cityhood Day (Philippines)

Texas Statehood Day (#28; 1845)

New Year’s Days

New Year Holiday (Russia; Transdniestria)

5th & Last Sunday in December

King Mango Strut (Coconut Grove, Florida) [Last Sunday]

Last Sunday of the Year [Last Sunday]

Seven For Sunday [Every Sunday]

Souper Sunday [Last Sunday of Each Month]

Sultry Sunday [Last Sunday of Each Month]

Sundae Sunday [Every Sunday]

Sunday Funday [Every Sunday]

Weekly Holidays beginning December 29 (4th Full Week of December)

Last Week of the Year (thru 1.4) [Last Week of the Year]

Festivals Beginning December 29, 2024

Comiket [Comic Market] (Tokyo, Japan) [thru 12.30]

Edinburgh’s Hogmanay (Edinburgh, Scotland) [thru 1.1]

Northern Bass (Mangawhai, New Zealand) [thru 12.31]

Rhythm and Vines (Gisborne, New Zealand) [thru 12.31]

Feast Days

Albert Tucker (Artology)

Broussais (Positivist; Saint)

David Alfaro Siqueiros (Artology)

David, King and prophet (Catholic, Lutheran)

Day of the Nymphs (Ancient Greece; Everyday Wicca)

Ebrulf (Christian; Saint)

Evroul (Christian; Saint)

Feast of the Holy Family (Christian)

Fifth Day of Christmas

Guising and Mumming Play Day (Celtic Book of Days)

International Jewish Book Day [5 Tevet]

Jean-Baptiste Pater (Artology)

Jenny Lawson (Writerism)

Jonathan, Prince of Israel (Christian; Saint)

Julia Wertz (Artology)

Keith Milow (Artology)

Kwanzaa, Day 4: Ujamaa (Cooperative Economy)

Marcellus Akimetes, Abbot of Accemetes (Christian; Saint)

The Mosquitos (Muppetism)

Rasputin Deaths Day (Starza Pagan Book of Days)

Sacrifice to Zeus Horios (Ancient Greece)

Skadi’s Blot (Pagan)

Thomas Becket (Christian; Saint)

Trophimus of Arles (Christian; Saint)

Twelve Holy Days #4 (Cancer, the solar plexus; Esoteric Christianity)

Twelvetide, Day #5; Feast of St. Thomas Becket (a.k.a. the Twelve Days of Christmas or Christmastide) [until 1.5]

Vanessa del Rio Day (Church of the SubGenius; Saint)

Vera Brittain (Writerism)

William Gaddis (Writerism)

Yad Sdrawkcab (Pastafarian)

Hebrew Calendar Holidays [Begins at Sundown Day Before]

Hanukkah, Day #5 (a.k.a. Chanukah; Judaism) [thru Jan. 2nd] (Light 5 Candles at Dusk) [28-29 Kislev]

Lucky & Unlucky Days

Sakimake (先負 Japan) [Bad luck in the morning, good luck in the afternoon.]

Premieres

Adventures of Kathlyn (1st Movie Serial; 1913)

Animal Farm (Animated Film; 1954)

Beyond the Sea (Film; 2004)

The Book of Boba Fest (TV Series; 2021)

The Entertainer, by Scott Joplin copyrighted (Song; 1902)

Everyday Horton in Buried Treasure (Adult Animated Cartoon; 1929)

Explorers on the Moon, by Hergé (Graphic Novel; 1954) [Tintin #17]

The First Robin (Terrytoons Cartoon; 1939)

The Good, the Bad and the Ugly (Film; 1967)

La Mascotte, by Edmund Audran (Opera; 1880)

Mars (Oswald the Lucky Rabbit Cartoon; 1930)

Martian Through Georgia (WB LT Cartoon; 1962)

Mr. Holland’s Opus (Film; 1995)

Mr. Popper's Penguins, by Richard & Florence Atwater (Children’s Book; 1938)

Mysterious Mose (Betty Boop Cartoon; 1930)

New York Daily Gazette (Daily Newspaper; 1788)

Pan’s Labyrinth (Film; 2006)

A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man, by James Joyce (Novel; 1916)

Richard III (Film; 1995)

Star Wars: The Book of Boba Fest (TV Series; 2021)

String Quartet in G Minor, by Claude Debussy (String Quartet; 1893)

The Sunday Express (UK Weekly Newspaper; 1918)

The Sunny South (Terrytoons Cartoon; 1933)

Trans, by Neil Young (Album; 1982)

Treat Me Right, by Pat Benatar (Song; 1980)

12 Monkeys (Film; 1995)

Violin Sonata No. 10 (Opus 96), by Ludwig van Beethoven (Sonata; 1812)

Wild Elephinks (Fleischer Popeye Cartoon; 1933)

Today’s Name Days

David, Jonathan, Thomas (Austria)

David, Davor, Toma (Croatia)

Judita (Czech Republic)

Noa (Denmark)

Merili, Merle, Merli, Mirle (Estonia)

Rauha (Finland)

David (France)

David, Jessica, Tamara (Germany)

Tamara, Tamás (Hungary)

Davide, Tommaso (Italy)

Ileana, Ilgona, Ilgone, Solveiga (Latvia)

Gaja, Gentvainas, Teofilė (Lithuania)

Vemund, Vidar (Norway)

Domawit, Dominik, Gosław, Jonatan, Marcin, Tomasz, Trofim (Poland)

Marina (Russia)

Milada (Slovakia)

David, Tomás (Spain)

Natalia, Natalie (Sweden)

Georgina (Ukraine)

Dave, David, Davida, Davion, Davis, Davy, Dawson, Dayton, Jess, Jesse, Jessica, Jessie, Jessy, Vida (USA)

Today is Also…

Day of Year: Day 364 of 2024; 2 days remaining in the year

ISO: Day 7 of Week 52 of 2024

Celtic Tree Calendar: Ruis (Elder) [Day 8 of 28]

Chinese: Month 11 (Bing-Zi), Day 29 (Ding-Mao)

Chinese Year of the: Dragon 4722 (until January 29, 2025) [Wu-Chen]

Hebrew: 28 Kislev 5785

Islamic: 27 Jumada II 1446

J Cal: 4 Fest; Foursday [4 of 6]

Julian: 16 December 2024

Moon: 2%: Waning Crescent

Positivist: 28 Bichat (13th Month) [Gall]

Runic Half Month: Eihwaz or Eoh (Yew Tree) [Day 7 of 15]

Season: Winter (Day 9 of 90)

Week: Last Week of December

Zodiac: Capricorn (Day 8 of 30)

#calendar #Holidays

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jcmarchi · 22 days ago

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Robots with Feeling: How Tactile AI Could Transform Human-Robot Relationships

New Post has been published on https://thedigitalinsider.com/robots-with-feeling-how-tactile-ai-could-transform-human-robot-relationships/

Robots with Feeling: How Tactile AI Could Transform Human-Robot Relationships

Sentient robots have been a staple of science fiction for decades, raising tantalizing ethical questions and shining light on the technical barriers of creating artificial consciousness. Much of what the tech world has achieved in artificial intelligence (AI) today is thanks to recent advances in deep learning, which allows machines to learn automatically during training.

This breakthrough eliminates the need for painstaking, manual feature engineering—a key reason why deep learning stands out as a transformative force in AI and tech innovation.

Building on this momentum, Meta — which owns Facebook, WhatsApp and Instagram — is diving into bold new territory with advanced “tactile AI” technologies. The company recently introduced three new AI-powered tools—Sparsh, Digit 360, and Digit Plexus—designed to give robots a form of touch sensitivity that closely mimics human perception.

The goal? To create robots that don’t just mimic tasks but actively engage with their surroundings, similar to how humans interact with the world.

Sparsh, aptly named after the Sanskrit word for “touch,” is a general-purpose agentic AI model that allows robots to interpret and react to sensory cues in real-time. Likewise, the Digit 360 sensor, is an artificial fingertip for robots that can help perceive touch and physical sensations as minute as a needle’s poke or changes in pressure. The Digit Plexus will act as a bridge, providing a standardized framework for integrating tactile sensors across various robotic designs, making it easier to capture and analyze touch data. Meta believes these AI-powered tools will allow robots to tackle intricate tasks requiring a “human” touch, especially in fields like healthcare, where sensitivity and precision are paramount.

Yet the introduction of sensory robots raises larger questions: could this technology unlock new levels of collaboration, or will it introduce complexities society may not be equipped to handle?

“As robots unlock new senses, and gain a high degree of intelligence and autonomy, we will need to start considering their role in society,” Ali Ahmed, co-founder and CEO of Robomart, told me. “Meta’s efforts are a major first step towards providing them with human-like senses. As humans become exceedingly intimate with robots, they will start treating them as life partners, companions, and even going so far as to build a life exclusively with them.”

A Framework for Human-Robot Harmony, the Future?

Alongside its advancements in tactile AI, Meta also unveiled the PARTNR benchmark, a standardized framework for evaluating human-robot collaboration on a large scale. Designed to test interactions that require planning, reasoning, and collaborative execution, PARTNR will allow robots to navigate both structured and unstructured environments alongside humans. By integrating large language models (LLMs) to guide these interactions, PARTNR can assess robots on critical elements like coordination and task tracking, shifting them from mere “agents” to genuine “partners” capable of working fluidly with human counterparts.

“The current paper is very limited for benchmarking, and even in Natural Language Processing (NLP), it took a considerable amount of time for LLMs to be perfected for the real world. It will be a huge exercise to generalize for the 8.2 billion population with a limited lab environment,” Ram Palaniappan, CTO of TEKsystems, told me. “There will need to be a larger dedicated effort to boost this research paper to get to a workable pilot.”

To bring these tactile AI advancements to market, Meta has teamed up with GelSight Inc. and Wonik Robotics. GelSight will be responsible for producing the Digit 360 sensor, which is slated for release next year and will provide the research community access to advanced tactile capabilities. Wonik Robotics, meanwhile, will handle the production of the next-generation Allegro Hand, which integrates Digit Plexus to enable robots to carry out intricate, touch-sensitive tasks with a new level of precision. Yet, not everyone is convinced these advancements are a step in the right direction.

“Although I still believe that adding sensing capabilities could be meaningful for robots to understand the environment, I believe that current use cases are more related to robots for mass consumers and improving on their interaction,” Agustin Huerta, SVP of Digital Innovation for North America at Globant, told me. “I don’t believe we are going to be close to giving them human-level sensations, nor that it’s actually needed. Rather, it will act more as an additional data point for a decision-making process.”

Meta’s tactile AI developments reflect a broader trend in Europe, where countries like Germany, France, and the UK are pushing boundaries in robotic sensing and awareness. For instance, the EU’s The Horizon 2020 program supports a range of projects aimed at pushing robotic boundaries, from tactile sensing and environmental awareness to decision-making capabilities. Moreover, The Karlsruhe Institute of Technology in Germany recently introduced ARMAR-6, a humanoid robot designed for industrial environments. ARMAR-6 is equipped to use tools like drills and hammers and features AI capabilities that allow it to learn how to grasp objects and assist human co-workers.

But, Dr. Peter Gorm Larsen, Vice-Head of Section at the Department of Electrical and Computer Engineering at Aarhus University in Denmark, and coordinator of the EU-funded RoboSAPIENS project, cautions that Meta might be overlooking a key challenge: the gap between virtual perceptions and the physical reality in which autonomous robots operate, especially regarding environmental and human safety.

“Robots do NOT have intelligence in the same way that living creatures do,” he told me. “Tech companies have a moral obligation to ensure that their products respect ethical boundaries. Personally, I’m most concerned about the potential convergence of such advanced tactile feedback with 3D glasses as compact as regular eyewear.”

Are We Ready for Robots to “Feel”?

Dr. Larsen believes the real challenge isn’t the tactile AI sensors themselves, but rather how they’re deployed in autonomous settings. “In the EU, the Machinery Directive currently restricts the use of AI-driven controls in robots. But, in my view, that’s an overly stringent requirement, and we hope to be able to demonstrate that in the RoboSAPIENS project that I currently coordinate.”

Of course, robots are already collaborating with humans in various industries across the world. For instance, Kiwibot has helped logistics companies dealing with labor shortages in warehouses, and Swiss firm Anybotics recently raised $60 million to help bring more industrial robots to the US, according to TechCrunch. We should expect artificial intelligence to continue to permeate industries, as “AI accelerates productivity in repeatable tasks like code refactoring, addresses tech debt and testing, and transforms how global teams collaborate and innovate,” said Vikas Basra, Global Head, Intelligent Engineering Practice, Ness Digital Engineering.

At the same time the safety of these robots – now as well as in their potentially “sentient” future – is the main concern in order for the industry to progress.

Said Matan Libis, VP of product at SQream, an advanced data processing company, in The Observer, “The next major mission for companies will be to establish AI’s place in society—its roles and responsibilities … We need to be clear about its boundaries and where it truly helps. Unless we identify AI’s limits, we’re going to face growing concerns about its integration into everyday life.”

As AI evolves to include tactile sensing, it raises the question of whether society is ready for robots that “feel.” Experts argue that pure software-based superintelligence may hit a ceiling; for AI to reach a true, advanced understanding, it must sense, perceive, and act within our physical environments, merging modalities for a more profound grasp of the world—something robots are uniquely suited to achieve. Yet, superintelligence alone doesn’t equate to sentience. “We must not anthropomorphize a tool to the point of associating it as a sentient creature if it has not proven that it is capable of being sentient,” explained Ahmed. “However if a robot does pass the test for sentience then they should be recognized as a living sentient being and then we shall have the moral, and fundamental responsibility to grant them certain freedoms and rights as a sentient being.”

The implications of Meta’s tactile AI are significant, but whether these technologies will lead to revolutionary change or cross ethical lines remains uncertain. For now, society is left to ponder a future where AI not only sees and hears but also touches—potentially reshaping our relationship with machines in ways we’re only beginning to imagine.

“I don’t think that increasing AI’s sensing capabilities crosses the line on ethics. It’s more related to how that sensing is later used to make decisions or drive others’ decisions,” said Huerta. “The robot revolution is not going to be different from the industrial revolution. It will affect our lives and leave us in a state that I think can make humanity thrive. In order for that to happen, we need to start educating ourselves and the upcoming generations on how to foster a healthy relationship between humans and robots.”

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