#selfsame

[venfaaniik]

So What if all your dreams would slowly wither And with time were to pass away?

[glamoriized]

g l a m o r i i z e d

[tragedykery]

okay so there’s this thing called procrastination and me & my friends well…we’ve gone pro

[cyanide-latte]

Happy Birthday Ren!!! What made you want to go to school at NRC, versus another magical school or one closer to home?

"I received multiple acceptance letters to various arcane academies. But Night Raven College was where Idia Shroud was said to be attending. His magnitech accomplishments far surpassed anything I'd dreamed of. Having a rival like that could push me to achieve even greater accomplishments of my own, so there simply was no other option. It had to be NRC, and I will not back down from getting what I want."

Sorry for the low effort doodle, this looks god-awful, pls forgive.

Taglist: @elenauaurs @inmateofthemind @ramshacklerumble @tixdixl @winterweary

@distant-velleity @rainesol @thehollowwriter @theleechyskrunkly @twst-migraine

@jovieinramshackle @the-trinket-witch @treydia (DM me if you'd like to be added or removed from the taglist for my TWST OCs stuff)

[postsforposting]

can you reclaim the f slur?

limp wristed fops were never in the closet. they define themselves by showing off their frocking frippery finery. fucks hard, imo.

how obnoxious of him to appropriate gay stereotypes when he's not even Real Enough To Matter! explicitly stays in the curio cabinet, even with a big bag of marvel cash! it's like he knows his life is fake!

if a word is fine to say due to the speaker's identity, then GASP i think we just said even bad nasty words aren't inherently bad and nasty. BUT it's totes proper to judge a person's moral character based on someone's identity like their gender, sexuality, race, creed, disability because some people are should be branded evil due to who they are and---uh oh. are we playing for the other team here???

"don't say gay" was supposed to be about converting a ~slur~ into an acceptable characteristic. it was not meant literally as "don't say gay, cause that's a bad bad word and a bad bad thing to be and that should never, ever change". broomstick twiggy friends of dorothy aren't any different, because that would be extremely fucking strange, peculiar, curious, and unusual.

there was an entire years long arc in the marvel comics about demanding people get publicly branded to avoid persecution. but that could mean fuck all to fops and their colorful wardrobes, right?

[dreadseareverie]

[ Eden ] Directory: 𝐇𝐨𝐧𝐤𝐚𝐢 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫 𝐑𝐚𝐢𝐥.

𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐰𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐝𝐞𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐞, 𝐢𝐧 𝐝𝐞𝐟𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐲, 𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞.

Name: Eden 

Alias: The Black Knight, Oathless Knight

Age: 300+ (exact number unknown)

Path:  Destruction

Combat Type: Physical 

Species: [unknown data]

Faction: Ataraxia Merchant Guild

World: Monere

𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞.

Eden operates as an independent mercenary, traveling wherever his work takes him, near or far. Despite working as a mercenary, in practice he is more akin to a freelancer that takes on nearly odd job that comes his way. For him, no Jon is too dangerous or too menial For him to handle, so long as he receives an appropriate compensation for his efforts.

When asked about his past, he'll change the subject, and not always subtly. If pressed for further details regardless, Eden will claim that he doesn't know or that he can't recall certain details of his past. This is, of course, partially true, but primarily a convenient lie. He does not have any desire to revisit his past in any capacity; he has left that all behind. Even so, he may be willing to disclose details about his current affiliations, but he will not reveal much more about what came before.

He spends most of his time traveling as work comes to him or as whim dictates, often picking up odd jobs and mercenary work to pay for the expenses incurred. When he's not working, he is likely seeking solace in the ordinary. A feat easier said than done given his violent and storied history. 

While he travels, he's also looking out for a place to settle down somewhere, someday. There is nothing that has drawn him to stay at any one place, not yet. As circumstances currently stand, he calls a little residence on the Ataraxia Merchant Guild’s flagship, the Ambrosia, his home, working for the aforementioned Guild in an unofficial capacity. 

𝐈𝐧 𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐮𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐧.

001. u/c

[attractthecrows]

[jinseinomerry-go-round]

had a dream last night that i was in a city where a whole district entirely consisted of fabric stores and yarn stores and 1 model train club & the architecture was lovely and there were trams everywhere

[prokopetz]

It's generally true that institutions don't make rules prohibiting things that nobody is doing (i.e., the existence of the prohibition demonstrates the existence of whatever it's prohibiting), but then I think about the moral panic back in the 1980s where people genuinely thought that shitty movies about white dudes dressing up in ninja costumes were teaching children to be ninja assassins, and passed a bunch of laws banning "ninja weapons" for which their only source of knowledge were those selfsame movies, with the result that, to this day, many jurisdictions have laws on the books prohibiting weapons which do not exist, and I reflect that every principle has exceptions.

[lon3lystarr]

honey…don’t feed it, it will come back.

•paring: remmick x fem!reader

•summary: the pale moon light shined brightly, illuminating the shadows hidden deep within the tall corn fields, the hot air of mississippi was uncontrollable and uncomfortable but nothing felt more uneasy than the three firm knocks that cut through the still night.

•warning(s): vampirism, blood, manipulation,physical affection, setting is around the 1930s, cursing, the use of y/n, y/n is in her early 20’s, y/n lives alone, hints to dead mom, y/n is a little stupid but this is fiction so it’s whatever, a lot of flirty name calling from remmick, remmick might be a little soft in this <3, just a little smutty;))

•a/n: yeah i needed to write about remmick, he’s just so hot and my new hyper fixation. writing this while listening to “it will come back” by hozier :)). i wrote another remmick fanfic: https://www.tumblr.com/lon3lystarr/782176805690982400/run-lassie-run-pairing-remmick-x-femreader :))

likes, comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!! <3

the sunday morning sun was unbearable. there wasn’t any wind, there wasn’t any shade, there wasn’t any clouds in the vibrant blue sky to provide any shelter from the scolding hot rays the sun kissed upon mississippi. this wasn’t new to y/n, the slow hot suffocating heat embracing her sweat covered form while she did her daily routine, sweeping and mopping the house from the inside then out to the front porch, washing her soiled clothes and hanging them to dry on the thin laundry line, tending to the tall corn fields her mama left her making sure the field was healthy and ripe enough to sell for the folks in town, then preparing dinner all alone in her old creaky home. y/n’s days were selfsame, doing the chores she has done since her early years of living then winding down for the night, humming the old lullabies her mama used to sing to her throughout the quiet nights.

until something in the air shifted

something felt different today

y/n felt uneasy when she woke, the thick morning air was the same as yesterday and the day before that but something deep within y/n’s bones told her today wasn’t the same as all the time, maybe it was the lack of the birds singing and chirping, maybe it was the disgustingly hot air she breathed in or maybe it was the exhaustion that ate away at her every passing day, either way y/n knew if she didn’t attend her chores then no one will. she pushed off her thick wool bed as the wooden bed frame groaned under her weight and walked to the bucket of clean water to wash away the sleep from her sluggish face then she started her day.

sweeping and mopping, washing her clothes that were soiled from the amount of sweat and dirt clinging onto them, pinning those clothes on the laundry line behind the chipped painted house, tending to the towering corn fields as her hands cramped up from the heavy labor, then by sunset she headed back to the empty lifeless home to finally fill her empty stomach. the sun still shined casting purple-pink hues in the sky as y/n made a fire big enough to cook all the food at once, cornbread, sweet potatoes, and field peas was the meal she decided to cook for the night. the sound of crickets rang out and filled the quietness which helped drown out y/n’s intrusive  thoughts, the thoughts that she wouldn’t dare say out loud, the growing despair she felt in her heart was becoming intolerable, she never thought this was the life she would be living, the same tired routine over and over again, the silence in this empty lonely house, her years withering away, happiness and enthusiasm drained from her once lively soul, the lack of passion in her life caused all these feelings to bubble to the surface, it was miserable.

by sundown y/n finished her meal and got ready for bed, she peeled off her dirt covered clothes and replaced them with her lightweight flowy white nightgown that was a hand-me-down it only reached just over her knees, she brushed and wrapped her frizzy hair then headed to her room she left earlier today, her aching limbs cracked and popped when she stretched them out then throwing her limp body onto the mattress and waited for the tiredness to hug around her, finally getting the rest she so desperately needed.

but rest didn’t come, y/n stared at the ceiling with her eyebrows pulled together in discomfort, the same feeling from before came back, the unsettling and uncomfortable tension heavy in the night air, the crickets stopped singing, the moonlight dimmed and the air still sticky and hot. y/n tossed and turned in her bed and shut her eyes tightly, hoping sleep will catch her like prey to predator but that was unsuccessful so she sat up and stared out of her window to watch the night sky, the night sky was the only thing giving her peace, giving her tranquility, giving her harmony-

knock. knock. knock

three firm knocks cut through the air, the moment of calmness and silence immediately vanished, now the same uncertainty and uncomfortable feeling returned. who would be knocking on her door at this time of night? y/n stayed seated on her bed, unmoving, maybe the person outside of her door would assume she was asleep and leave but that wasn’t a good plan. three more firm knocks rang out followed by a masculine voice “hello? is anyone home? please help me i’ve been hurt” the desperation muffled behind the door “please i won’t be much of a bother! i just need a little of ya assistance” the voice said as y/n got closer to the door, wary and uncertain “how are you hurt?” y/n asked, her palm pressed against the door, adding a little more security and support to the old door “i was walking from the pub and i wasn’t lookin’ at my surroundings, i ended up cuttin’ my arm on a nasty ole poll..” the voice explained, sounding a little closer, a little more quieter “well sir i won’t be much help, i wasn’t gifted with the ability to heal anyone back to health” y/n replied, the feeling of uneasy growing bigger in her chest “well darlin’ i promise ya a place to rest my head would be more than enough” the tenderness in the male’s voice outside pulled at the heartstrings of y/n softly, feeling needed was something y/n didn’t know she was able to feel in a long time it was a little selfish to feel this way or even stupid but fuck, did it feel nice. y/n slowly turned the cold metal doorknob making the old door squeak open revealing the male in front of it, standing on y/n’s porch was a handsome, muscular man with brown short sweaty hair, his dark eyes connected to her’s immediately“well aren’t ya a beauty, didn’t expect that face” said the taller male in front of her, making a new emotionto erupt, it felt like heat in her stomach and her heart skipped a little from his words “i’m remmick, what’s your name dolly?” asked remmick, a smirk painted on his chapped pink lips as his accent seemed more thicker now that there wasn’t a barrier between them “i’m y/n” she replied in a hushed manner “hmmm y/n, just rolls off the tongue. leaves a little sweet taste” remmick said, husky and sly leaning against the door frame, he lifted up his left arm and the nasty cut showed, the skin around it was red and raw while the blood dried up and crusted over “that sure does look painful, washing that wound would be best” y/n said, still focused on the long cut on his pale white skin “why don’t ya let me in and we can get this taken care of” remmick smiled a reassuring smile, y/n stood there thinking of the situation she’s now in, this attractive stranger needed help and a place to stay in the middle of the night…this wasn’t good…the choice she was about to make wasn’t the smartest at all but maybe doing a good deed for someone in need could break the curse of feeling unwanted, unneeded, useless every waking hour “alright, come in” y/n said, moving a little to the right to allow remmick to past by and enter into the candle lit house, the aroma that slapped y/n as the male walk by was intoxicating, the smell of sweetness like a ripe juicy berry mixed with the tangy smell of his sweat that covered his firm frame

“what a beautiful house, are you livin’ all alone here?” he asked, his eyes glued to her face, scanning her features that shined with the yellow-orange candle light “yes, my mama passed away a couple of years ago. leaving me to take care of the house and the corn fields” y/n stated, her voice still low and airy “my condolences dolly. you’ve done a fine job maintaining everything. must be stressful on a sweet little thing like you huh?” remmick said, his voice sweet and kind “time to time, being on my lonesome is quite the hassle but i manage” y/n replied truthfully walking to the same bucket she used to wash away her tiredness this morning, sitting across him in a shorter chair “sweet thing like you shouldn’t manage. you should be taken care of, loved upon, cherished and protected from the evil in this world.” remmick stated, stern and serious as he sat on the old dusty wooden rocking chair “well some of us aren’t as lucky” y/n said, softly tending to the wound on his arm. while she carefully rinsed off the dried up blood she noticed something..strange…the cut wasn’t as big as before, actually it seemed like there wasn’t a cut there at all, the only evidence was the blood that was now tinted the water red “i can free you. i can free your poor soul from the long lonely days you live, finally feelin’ freedom that’s the thing you wanted to feel since ya mama passed on, isn’t it?” remmick whispered, softly pulling her in like a siren to a fisherman “don’t ya want want to break free from all that baggage?” remmick egged on, his powdery white hand gently caressing y/n’s cheek, soothing her from any doubt or fear “how? i can’t be free…i ain’t never gonna be…i’ve been trapped in a loop for years” y/n shook her head, defeat heavy on her heart “no no honey, don’t say that, don’t give up on me now. i promise i can make ya feel better, i can make all those nasty feelings disappear in a blink of an eye” remmick said, his hot palms on each sides of her face, brushing his thumb against her soft lashes.

remmick and y/n gazed at one another, time was still and the tension was heavy. both didn’t speak another word nor didn’t move a muscle, too scared to ruin this moment. seconds ticked by with them still so close to one another, breathing in each other’s aroma, feeling the body heat of each other “this may be ill mannered but i wanna steal a kiss for you sweetheart” remmick said, his eyes still gazing into y/n’s, a smirk on his appetizing lips “why just one? steal as many as ya want” y/n said, a groan deep in her throat “hmmm careful dolly, you might not handle what you let in” remmick moaned out, softly caressing y/n’s hot cheek and his lips kissing against the soft skin of her neck, sensually kissing and licking the exposed skin, tasting and savoring the flavorful flesh gradually kissing up to her impatient lips, their lips danced against each other in sync, it was slow and sensual “honey i gotta taste more, wanna give me more baby?” asked remmick, gripping y/n’s hips firmly and strongly, y/n nodded obediently “yeah i know you wanna give me more” remmick teased, his deep voice made y/n’s heart jump with excitement, this was such a new and addictive feeling.

remmick kissed her neck and the spot he once abused down to her exposed chest then to her soft stomach “god, baby i can’t wait to taste ya, need to clench my thirst” remmick groaned out, squeezing and squishing y/n’s thighs like he was needing bread, greedy and hungry “remmick please” y/n begged impatiently “please? fuck, i love a pretty lady with manners” remmick’s husky voice became muffled from kissing y/n’s soft plush thighs, his knees thumping against the wooden floor,the brown haired male slowly kissing closer to the area that ached the most for his attention.

his soft lips finally latching onto her achy pearl, y/n gasped at the feelings, her hand immediately flying to his short soft hair, guiding his head to where she wanted him most, moaning and crying out as remmick licking and slurping up all the tangy slick that seeped and gushed out “mmmhmm just like that sweetheart, keep cryin’ out for me” remmick groaned, wrapping his masculine hands on y/n’s hips “remmick please! oh god please, right there” y/n cried out, bumping her hips against his eager hot wet lips “i want ya to be with me, if i make you cum, you’re mine dolly” remmick moaned out, gently grazing his teeth against y/n’s soft pearl, y/n jumped a little with a sharp gasp “yes! yes! i’m yours! please remmick!” y/n begged and pleaded, mind mushy and in the clouds with pleasure “that’s what i like to hear, give me what i deserve baby” remmick grinned up at the ruined woman above him then diving back down to his savory meal. his skillful tongue drawing circles around her sensitive and pulsating button while his middle finger gently rubbed her entrance slowly inserting his meaty finger inside, the slippery essence dripped onto his finger and his lips. loud ecstasy, lustful moans bounced off the walls of the old candle lit house, the lewd sounds coming from the slick wet flower remmick was pumping in and out of “hmmm yeah give it to me baby, make me proud, give me what i deserve” remmick’s husky words rang in y/n’s ears, the heat building up in her lower stomach, getting closer and closer to release “re-remmick! oh fuck! mmm please! right there” y/n yelled out with pleasure, dizzy head spinning with thick sin, y/n legs shook aggressively and her frame slumped against the slippery white painted chair, moaning uncontrollable as remmick ruined her. he drank all the nectar that flowed out overstimulating y/n’s abused pearl, y/n whined out and weakly pushed the male from her, still shaking from her release “sorry baby, i had to get every drop outta you” remmick snickered out while caressing her soft flesh, the ripe heated flesh giving off a sweet scent that remmick couldn’t help but take in a deep breath of “fuck you smell sweet…just wanna take a bite” remmick moaned out, gripping y/n’s chin, forcing her to look at him, to look at his glowing red eyes, those red haunting eyes looking deep into her soul “i made you cum honey, you’re mine now” remmick smirked, his sharp knife-like teeth showing, his head dropping to her sweat covered neck, inhaling the sweet scent of her flowing blood “we’d be beautiful together my love. this might pinch a little but it’s so worth it” remmick assured her with such a surgery sweet tone, giving her hope, giving her comfort and warmth, something her heart cried out for years.

everything happened so quickly, one moment the sensation of sharp needle like pain shot through the left side of her neck, hot burning sticky blood oozing out of the open wound then darkness encased her vision. the silence in the house was deafening but it didn’t last long until the loud, panicked gasp was heard from y/n, she felt muscular arms wrapped around her, protecting her, remmick didn’t leave her even when her heart stopped “and she’s awake. welcome back my love. you look as gorgeous as ever” remmick smiled brightly, placing a gentle kiss on the apple of y/n’s cheek, bloody lips leaving a red stain on her cheek “i think it’s my turn for a taste, don’t ya think?” y/n teased, her eyes now red and glowing in the dark room “looks like i created a minx” remmick teased back, biting the plush soft skin of y/n’s bottom lips, moaning in sync with one another quietly “you’re mine sweetheart.” remmick stated, no room for discussion “and you’re mine” y/n replied, her hands running through his soft hair “damn right dolly.” remmick proudly said, pulling her into his warm chest. embracing each other without any worry in the world, the way how it should be. finally at peace, finally feeling worthy and loved, all of remmick.



[roadside-enshrined]

chekhov's gun is actually so funny to me. you point at smthng and go There. That Thing There. then That Same Thing Will Be There Again. preferably Violently,

[noisybasementrebel]

Pack up everybody we can go home now. THIS. Just this. It said everything about arjuna ans draupadi that ever needs to be said.

FIRE AND RAIN

The first time I saw her, I was clad in disguise, Betrayed by the ones we called family, Bound by my mother’s words- You brothers will suffice. Yet I stared, amidst the kings and princes of Bharatvarsha, Where steel and pride were woven thick, Where men sought glory, aiming at the near impossible. Yet there she stood- unshaken, unmoved, Born of fire, a flame no storm could quell. Her hair, a river of endless midnight silk, Her lotus eyes, a single glance, and hearts would tremble. Yet in their depths, my gods… Not a maiden’s dream, but a warrior’s strength. Gold and diamonds adorned her form, Yet they dimmed before her radiant glow. For she was not the moon’s borrowed light, She was the brimming fire of a sacred Agni Kunda. Then she walked, and the air grew still, A hush of petals upon a royal garden, The world inhaled the scent of a lotus dream. Oh, but she was not soft alone, Thunder echoed in the step of her stride, A tempest roared within her veins. She, a no mere flower, But a storm waiting to rise. I, the son of Indra: you, the blessing of fire. Would I be the bow or the arrow you set to flight? Would I ever know the strength that shapes the storm, The brilliance of her fearless light? I am but a Brahmin in disguise, Standing before a flame that will not bend. And in her gaze, I glimpse a path, A journey that will never end.

I'm supposed to finish assignments but my mind is elsewhere...

[apas-95]

this website is so often anti-intellectual in the most boring, ignorant way, always delivered with the selfsame faux-rebellious attitude. bothering to make any critique of the intelligentsia as a class, of the institutions of bourgeois academia, only gets rhetoric adopted to the cause of, like, mocking the fermi paradox for just being dumb scientists who watched too many alien movies. these positions are borne out of ignorance and a desire to maintain that ignorance, to not to have to learn anything more; in the exact same way people claim to not need political theory, they also decide their lived experience puts them above statisticians and cosmologists. it's a reactionary tendency wrapped in supposed resistance to authority, nothing new there, but it gets absolutely celebrated on this website, and fed into by half every would-be abolisher of polytechnics and medical schools

[animatedhomunculus]

saw a really good play and now i can’t stop talking like a nytimes culture critic. i was floored by this gripping piece of moving theater that spoke to the current moment and held up a mirror to our society while in the other hand smashing that selfsame mirror with a hammer

[makingqueerhistory]

do you have any older examples of people playing around with pronouns (gender neutral or otherwise) in a queer way? most stuff I'm finding on my own is all mid to late 20th century :')

I think I have the perfect story for you! That of Zinaida Gippius, here is a quote from their article:

"A Russian poet, their discussion of their own identity is held within the culture and understandings of the Russian language. This is particularly relevant in the Russian language's use of grammatical gender, which is something that the English language is unable to capture in any meaningful way. Within their poetry, Gippius made a point to switch back and forth between masculine and feminine gendering, leaning towards the masculine. In the study of their poetry, this has been demonstrated for English readers through coloured text, with one colour used to indicate when they are using feminine gendering and another for masculine."

It was an interesting article to write, as there was a legitimate reason to use he/him/his pronouns, she/her/hers, and they/them/theirs, so we used all three.

Here are some interesting quotes about gender from them:

"The bodily differences between an actual man and an actual woman are important, of course. The body here should be viewed as a sign of the predominance in a given human being of the [Female] or [Male] principle […] the body itself is not integrally reflective of the [Male] or [Female] principle and, second, the body does not determine personality."

"I do not desire exclusive femininity, just as I do not desire exclusive masculinity. Each time someone is insulted and dissatisfied within me; with women, my femininity is active, with men-my masculinity! In my thoughts, my desires, in my spirit-I am more a man; in my body-I am more a woman. Yet they are so fused together that I know not."

"Thus, in all the tangled threads of reality—in all its minutiae, errors, and nuances—one may uncover the selfsame effectual Principles [pure masculine and feminine]: separated and conjoinable, conjoined and separable."

[baeddel]

"twink" is an exonym. it is rarely a self-designation. many men called twinks are unhappy with the label and find it insulting, sexualizing, and degrading (many older interviews with twinks are very explicit on this point). but they have no choice in the matter, and cannot remove the name which they have not themselves applied. a twink dies under the same unalterable condition through which they were born; the body ages, fat accumulates, hair grows upon the belly, the skin toughens and pocks along the face. they become detestable to the selfsame people who's adoration they did not in the first place request.

femboy is an endonym. we may only really know that someone is a femboy if they tell us; until that point we may only guess. and femboys do not die, for the label they have given themselves can be removed by no hand but theirs. many of our earliest sources which contain the word "femboy" explicitly state that femboy is not a bodytype, and not an age. please allow me this much authority, and listen to my command: stop making stupid posts implying that it is!