#so he fully embodies Space as an Ancient

[fairy-lights-and-blobs]

Ok, but imagine that Vlad doesn't realize not having his Core is killing Danny, until the accursed Car Ride on the Way Back

The night had been going great, if with a few hiccups from Daniel's latest streak of rebellion.

A rebellion Vlad would be damn sure to impart upon the Little Badger just how important it was that he BEHAVED. It wouldn't do for everything he's worked so hard to steal obtain to be ruined just because of one selfish brat who couldn't see how kind he was being by keeping him from taking up the mantle of Phantom again.

You would think the boy was dying, by how much he's been dragging his feet lately! And those horrid eyebags...honestly, does the boy just refuse to sleep or something? Well, Vlad will ensure he adopt healthier habits and a more...positive mindset.

"Honestly, Daniel. Can you not even TRY to be on your best behaviour? Here I am, being kind enough to bring you with me, instead of locking you up at home whenever I must leave, and you go and make a fool of yourself and me! We shall have words when we get back home, rest assured..."

Vlad had been expecting many things. A tantrum, screaming, maybe even a surprise temporary awakening of Ghost powers in the boy's body. Not the eerie silence and complete lack of a reaction. Not even an acknowledgement. Honestly, does he have to make sure the boy remembers to answer, along with everything else he's been forgetting nowadays?

As their car stopped at a red light, and Vlad's still partly alive body performed the expected correction at coming to a stop, Daniel went careening forward into the seat in front until the seatbelt snapped him back into place. What was going on? Why was Daniel all ashen and stiff? Why was the last remnant of Maddie dead?

Slipping a hand into his pocket to check on the Core he had taken from Daniel's chest, Vlad Masters found himself growing frantic and desperate as the orb, usually an admittedly pretty midnight blue speckled with stars, grew dim.

Then it cracked.

And the cracks grew and shattered.

Until, within seconds, the shell that had once held Daniel's soul crumbled...

...into the finest dust Vlad has ever seen.

And soon the fleshy shell that used to cradle the ghost of it's former occupant finally gave up

And as Rigor Mortis set in, and his stolen treasure captive son finally became truly dead, Vlad felt a strange feeling...

A painful snap...right in his chest.

Was that his Obsession? Had he truly lost himself so badly he killed the last tether to any dimension?

And as Vlad, for the first time in a very long while, faced the chance that he might just Fade forever, the Throne of the Realms gently cradled a Jewel.

A Shard of Space, plucked from the Universe and molded into a proper vessel for the soul of the Boy King. As Danny Fenton lost the fight against his weakening body, from his missing, stolen Core, the stars were his last memory.

So Phantom rose from the leftover space dust and love for Space that accompanied Fenton's last heartbeat.

Alone in his new throne room, the Mourning King curled into himself and Wailed until his voice gave out.

"All is as it should be..." an old Clock ticks ever onwards to the future only he can see. If only that future hadn't come at such a cost to the Boy he had come to love as a grandson, he might've been happier about it. "The Realms have a new King. One who will learn to love them and his subjects as Pariah never cared to."

Clockwork picked up a plate of food to bring to the young royal, and took his place at the boy's side, as he had sworn to do.

"To your health, King Phantom."

DPxDC prompt where when Vlad removes Danny's ghost half from him following the events in TUE, he more specifically removes his Core.

The human Danny that remains is half of what he should be. Half his memories, half his personality, half his drive-- half of everything that matters to him. The other half of him remains trapped in the core, locked away and desperate to reunite with his other half.

Vlad keeps the core on him at all times, determined to keep it away from Danny. He doesn't fully understand what he's done, but he knows that the core has life in it, and that reuniting the boy with it could prove disastrous for him. Particularly when the human Danny that remains has become such a docile, acceptable model of a son.

Vlad attends a Wayne Gala in Gotham, with the core ever on his person. There's an odd sort of energy to Gotham. A weird, nasty curl of ectoplasm choking the air that he doesn't care to understand. It's just as present at the gala, and no less so when he meets Bruce Wayne and his assortment of children.

One of them appears ill. He stares at Vlad with wide eyes and an ashen face. Vlad doesn't think much of it when the young man turns and storms off, assuming he's finding a place to be sick.

He's not wrong.

~*~

Jason's not entirely sure what he feels, looking at Vlad Masters. It's like watching hands claw underneath a sheet of ice, knowing that someone beneath it is slowly drowning. He feels sick, he feels afraid-- he feels horror and anger in equal measure.

Jason shakes, stumbling away from the encounter. He's not sure where to even begin when Dick follows him, asking what's wrong.

Extra layer of disaster: Danny attends the gala also and his presence feels Hollow.

[melyndadwest-blog]

Guardian Deity Spirit Danny

"In the spiritual realm, there are specific steps a being can take to ascend to the status of a god, with certain restrictions defining what a god truly is. Typically, a deity emerges as a result of being worshipped by a group of people, their worship infusing them with divine energy and granting them godhood.

They can be born from an unconscious belief or concept, such as the worship of the moon or nature. Over time, this belief gains sentience and power through the devotion of their followers.

They possess spiritual powers and establish a cult, amassing considerable influence and strength.

They are born from another god.

They achieve godhood by defeating and absorbing the essence of a pre-existing god, embodying their concept.

This means that even if a being is incredibly powerful, like Clockwork, they must be worshipped by someone to attain godhood. So...

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

In the Infinite Realms, time operates differently than in the outside world. I believe that since the Realms exist beyond space and existence, serving as the cosmic glue holding the multiverse together, they remain separate from the flow of time.

So, my idea is this: Danny is already immensely powerful, as he embodies the balance between life and death. Because of his connection to Clockwork, this being occasionally sends him on time-traveling missions, perhaps for preparations related to kingship. As a result, he appears in various places throughout history, safeguarding people and cultures. Over the centuries and millennia, people begin to worship him, seeking blessings and offering sacrifices.

Usually, this would lead the Justice League to believe that he's simply a very old being. However, what if he truly is ancient?

As I mentioned earlier, a god's powers are derived from belief, and this belief gradually transforms the deity. Here's my take:

Batman might insist, "I know you're Danny Fenton," until a summons or a crisis causes Danny's godly side to surface. This aspect of him is truly ancient, as time doesn't flow conventionally in the Infinite Realms. Consequently, Danny could be three years old in terms of his death, yet also an ancient entity. Nonetheless, he remains physically too young to fully comprehend his true power and existence, resulting in considerable confusion.

Ultimately, there are two interpretations:

The Justice League ends up believing that Danny is either a) a vessel for a god, b) a sort of priest, or c) the physical incarnation of a bored god curious about experiencing humanity.

Ghosts do not treat him like a typical ghost child because, due to the nonlinear nature of time in the Zone, his core possesses the essence of an ancient being. The ghosts perceive him as the rebirth of balance, incarnated as a human to restore equilibrium.

Feel free to use this concept for any story or interpretation you find compelling."

[tantricslutenergy]

Kali’s Sacred Gift: The Feminine Power of the Yoni and the Energy of Tantra

The essence of femininity, embodied by the pussy, the sacred yoni. This ancient power commands attention and admiration, compelling men to build empires, wage wars, and lay down their lives in pursuit of its divine magic. Though men possess physical strength, it is this subtle yet immense force that has always held them in thrall.

Women have always understood this sacred power, encoded deep within their DNA, passed down through generations of wise, sensual, and intuitive beings. This power brings them love, security, control, and the ability to shape the world around them. The yoni is the ultimate source of energy, the very womb of creation itself, shaping the universe, sustaining life, and enabling the very breath of the cosmos.

Kali, the Dark Goddess, is the primordial force who discovered and fully embraced this power. She is the embodiment of the fierce and untamable feminine energy that resides within every woman. Kali has always existed, standing as the fierce protector of the yoni, reminding us that the feminine is a force that cannot be tamed, a force that drives everything forward. And it is through her, through her energy, that women are able to unlock their full potential in every aspect of life—be it love, power, sexuality, or success.

Kali and the Yoni: The Source of Creation and Power

Kali, the goddess of transformation, is the one who understands the true essence of feminine sexuality. For her, the yoni is the sacred gateway to the cosmos. It is the place of power, the source of life-giving energy that pulses with creation and destruction in equal measure. Her essence reminds us that all women who are able to tap into their feminine power and sexuality are channeling Kali’s force—the ability to command their own destiny, to attract abundance, and to manifest their deepest desires.

When a woman awakens this inner Kali, she taps into an energy that propels her forward in life. She becomes unstoppable, radiating strength, beauty, and magnetism. She becomes a woman who can lead, manifest, and most importantly, inspire the world around her. This is the profound power that exists between her legs—a power that no man, no force in the universe, can truly understand, but one that he will always seek. For in that sacred space, she holds the keys to life itself.

The Divine Connection Between a Woman and a Man

The closest a man can ever come to experiencing the divine, to touching the very fabric of creation, is through a woman’s yoni. It is here that a man comes face-to-face with God, in the form of a woman’s orgasmic energy, the cosmic force that ties the physical to the spiritual. When a man orgasms from this sacred place, he experiences a glimpse of heaven, an ecstasy so pure that it becomes an addiction—a never-ending need to return, to experience that fleeting moment of divinity again and again.

For a woman, the power flows through her in a different way. It is Kali’s energy that infuses her being, making her the central hub of creation. When she draws a man into her, when she allows him to enter her sacred yoni, she, too, experiences the divine—the sacred exchange of energy. It is through this mutual dance, this sacred act, that the profound mystery of the feminine goddess is unveiled.

The Vulnerability of Power: Nourishing the Sacred Yoni

The yoni is not just a place of power, but also of nourishment. Just as a woman’s body requires sustenance to thrive, so does her yoni. Without the energy exchange, without regular sexual nourishment, this divine force can begin to deteriorate. When a woman’s sexual energy is starved or neglected, it transforms into something darker—a beast within her, one that can drive her to madness, anger, or despair. It is when the yoni is fed, when it is nurtured with love, intimacy, and orgasmic release, that the woman’s mind and body flourish, becoming aligned with the energy of the universe.

This primal energy is why Tantra holds such a powerful and ancient place in the lives of women. It is through the sexual union—the coming together of divine masculine and divine feminine—that the highest energy exchange occurs. And when this exchange happens in its rawest, truest form, without the barriers of protection or inhibition, the woman is fully alive—radiating energy, light, and power.

Women and the Feminine Path to Empowerment

Women have always carried this power within them, knowingly or unknowingly. A woman who understands the power of her yoni and uses her sexuality consciously is able to transcend the limitations that society places on her. She becomes like Kali, using her femininity and sexuality to move ahead in life, to overcome obstacles, to attract what she desires and create the life she dreams of.

When a woman is aligned with her Kali energy, she no longer seeks validation from external sources. She knows that everything she needs is already within her—her power is inherent, and her ability to draw it from the very source of life is undeniable. This is a power that is untamable, unconquerable, and eternally feminine.

The Timeless Power of the Yoni

The power of the yoni, as embodied by Kali, is an energy that men will never truly understand. But they will always seek it, always be drawn to it. A woman can lose everything, but as long as she opens her legs—she reclaims everything. The yoni is the sacred vessel of creation, the portal to divinity, the heart of the universe itself. When nurtured and honored, it holds the power to create worlds, shape destinies, and empower a woman to manifest her desires in this physical plane.

In this sacred dance of energy, both women and men have roles to play. The man seeks divinity in the woman’s yoni, and the woman, aligned with her Kali energy, uses this sacred space to empower herself and her life. Through the sacred exchange of energy, through conscious sexuality, the divine feminine rises. And in her, the world is born anew, time and time again.

The yoni is power. The yoni is life. And every woman who taps into this power is an embodiment of Kali’s sacred energy.

[onlyasimp4nobody]

Okay actually I. I yearn to yap about my previous reblog.

Pop culture depictions of Ares and adaptions have taken the concept of his godhood (god of war: specifically the battle and bloodlust) and have decided to associate modern-day personality traits that adhere to that theme. One of the most common being piece of shits, Ares being god of battle thus meaning he must be god of toxic masculinity, anger issues gruff buff old man dickwad behaviour. However this is far, FAR from how the mythos depicted him.

Also the turn-around is in online spaces outside of pop culture - Spaces that like to discuss Greek mythology itself there's this pseudo-fanonized concept he's the precise opposite, a feminist human rights activist have you or whatever and the most progressive god which... isn't fully a tap on the correct button either.

Ares is not an old hardened man, nor wise, he is youthful and boyish - He represents the warriors and is their muse in ancient Greece, just like the then soldiers; young men, young boys. He's passionate as they were to their cause and loyal and dedicated, and this does not just show by Ares' dedication to battle or his warrior-hood.

He did not view or treat Aphrodite as just a body and beauty to bed, he genuinely wanted her as a partner and loved her fully. This is why so many view the affair and love of the two as one of Aphrodite's few legitimate lovers. He respected her independent person hood because he loved her so intensely because he is intensity personified.

Yes many of the gods were protective and loved their children (mortal or/and God kids either), but Ares was of the most notable because of how out-of-the-way he went for them. On numerous occasions he defies his own father and king Zues himself for the sake of his children. He attends his children's weddings and cheers for them, seats himself amongst mortals to be with them. He mourned and grieved his children's deaths. He intervened and avenged them directly where the other gods simply sent monsters or omens as vengeance to those who killed their children. He would defy gods stronger and nobler than him and the law of Olympus itself for daring to defile his singular one daughter. He would come to and train even his far descendants the Amazonians be with them, aid them directly, they were his daughters. he was VERY dedicated and passionate as a parent.

Ares is very much the wrath of war, the loyalty of the Greek warriors, the brawn and never the brains (that status is handed to Athena and Zeus), but this isn't because he represents.. the bad or evil that wrath and bloodlust indicates into our modern society like misogyny and the such, neither does it implicate "Female rage" or whatever the fuck. This, wrath this brawns this warrior spirit was passion at its basis and unfiltered love. Ares was not a cold hardened embodiment of violence, he believed and cared so much his loyalty and love was an unstoppable bloody force the way the then warriors of Greece were to their nations and cause. His children, his lover (Aphrodite) and his beliefs.

[romaholistichealth]

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The Origins and Meaning of Sacred Geometry At the heart of the Harmonic Egg® lies the profound concept of sacred geometry, a system of shapes and proportions that has fascinated humanity for centuries. Sacred geometry refers to the patterns, ratios, and designs that are considered fundamental to the structure of the universe. Found in nature, art, and architecture, these forms represent a universal language that transcends culture and time. The origins of sacred geometry can be traced back to ancient civilizations, including the Egyptians, Greeks, and Indians, who believed these patterns held spiritual and energetic significance. Structures like the Great Pyramid of Giza, the Parthenon, and Hindu mandalas embody the principles of sacred geometry, designed to align with cosmic energies and foster harmony. In the Harmonic Egg®, sacred geometry is not merely aesthetic—it serves a functional purpose. The egg shape, based on principles of symmetry and balance, is an ideal resonant chamber. This design amplifies the healing light and sound frequencies, creating a space where energy flows seamlessly, supporting the body's natural rhythms. By aligning with sacred geometry, the Harmonic Egg® offers a healing experience that connects clients to the ancient wisdom of the universe while leveraging modern advancements in energy medicine. The Science Behind the Sacred Geometry The Harmonic Egg® isn't just beautiful – its design is grounded in science. Sacred geometry amplifies the therapeutic effects of light and sound, creating a resonant chamber that enhances your healing experience. The unique egg shape helps to: - Amplify and focus healing frequencies - Create a coherent energy field that nurtures balance - Ensure even sound distribution throughout the chamber - Support your body’s natural biorhythms This careful combination of science and art is what makes the Harmonic Egg® so effective in promoting wellness. 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Clients have reported improvements in conditions such as: - Stress and anxiety - Sleep disturbances - Chronic pain - Emotional trauma - Low energy - Immune system imbalances The Harmonic Egg® empowers your body to heal naturally, helping you feel more balanced and energized. Who Could Use Harmonic Egg® Treatment? Let's tak about a Jeff.  He struggled with chronic insomnia for years. Traditional treatments offered little relief. He has been overmedicated, and undermedicated, gone to therapy, listened to sleep hypnosis on YouTube, all to no avail.   The fog that Jeff lived in, from sleep exhausion is affecting her professional performance.   His sense of self worth has taken a massive hit from traditional medical practioners having no answers other than ineffectual medication with side effects.   By shere luck he stumbled upon a Harmonic Egg® treatment facility, Roma Holistic Health.  After just three sessions in the Harmonic Egg®, Jeff finally began to experience restful sleep. “It felt like my body remembered how to relax,” he shared. “Now, I wake up feeling refreshed and ready to start my day.” This vignette was taken from the real life experience of a patient, and used with permission. The Science of Sound and Light Therapy Research reveals the profound impact of sound and light frequencies on our bodies. The Harmonic Egg® combines these therapies in a powerful way: - Sound frequencies target specific body systems to restore balance - Light therapy aids cellular regeneration and promotes healing - Sacred geometry enhances the delivery of these frequencies This unique synergy is why the Harmonic Egg® stands out as a transformative healing tool. Integrating the Harmonic Egg® with Traditional Medicine At Roma Holistic Health, we believe in an integrative approach. The Harmonic Egg® complements traditional medical treatments by: - Reducing stress to support recovery - Encouraging relaxation for better treatment outcomes - Providing a non-invasive, gentle option for wellness - Boosting overall well-being during your medical journey By working hand-in-hand with your healthcare routine, the Harmonic Egg® enhances your path to healing. Preparing for Your Harmonic Egg® Session To make the most of your session, here are some tips: - Dress in comfortable, loose-fitting clothes - Stay hydrated before and after - Avoid heavy meals right before your session - Allow yourself to relax and embrace the experience Taking the Next Step Ready to experience the healing potential of the Harmonic Egg®? Contact Roma Holistic Health today to schedule your session. Our experienced practitioners are here to guide you on your journey to wellness. Your path to balance and vitality starts here. Let the Harmonic Egg® inspire your healing journey. Read the full article

[stanislawkowalski]

Nastka, a maestro of shadows and a sovereign of malevolence, had always prided himself on his mastery of the art of suffering. Yet, as he stood in Vasily's realm, observing the witch with a mixture of dark fascination and reverent awe, he felt the scales of power tip in a way that left him both humbled and entranced. In the presence of Vasily, Nastka was not merely a predator; he was a pilgrim before a deity of darkness.

The witch, a symphony of peril and elegance, moved through his domain with an eerie grace, each gesture a ballet of ancient malice and mystical control. The air around him was thick with enchantments and the scent of forbidden lore, a perfume that wrapped itself around Nastka's senses, drawing him deeper into a reverie of unspoken ill yearnings.

In the dim, shadowed corners of the room, Nastka felt as though he were witnessing the very embodiment of sin and sophistication, a devil manifested in mortal form. It was as if the walls themselves breathed with the weight of arcane secrets and whispered promises of dark revelations. The other's voice, a haunting melody, wound through the space, wrapping Nastka in a silken shroud of admiration.

Nastka's eyes, once sharp and unyielding, softened as he beheld Vasily’s subtle dominance. His gaze was not one of mere observation but of a seeker who had found a new God. It was a look of a man who had always been the hunter, now rendered a devoted acolyte, his every breath a testament to the power of the one before him.

The choice presented by Vasily—fast or slow, painful or serene—was not merely a question but an invitation to an abyss. Nastka’s response, his breathless murmur of “Slow,” was a declaration of his reverence, a tribute to the artistry of prolonged suffering. His words were laden with a profound admiration, as if he were acknowledging the witch’s power to stretch agony into an art form, to transform it into something almost sublime.

As Vasily’s eyes, like polished shards of crimson, lifted beneath heavy lashes, Nastka felt a shiver of something that went beyond mere desire. He leaned in, his voice falling to a whisper, “Slumber is such a waste, though. So peaceful, so quiet. I’d rather watch the light fade from their eyes as they’re dragged into the abyss, kicking and screaming. Hypothetically, of course.”

The Russian words that followed cut through the air like a blade, each syllable a reverberation of Nastka’s own buried desires. As he absorbed the truth of Vasily’s statement, the world seemed to tilt on its axis, and Nastka found himself on the precipice of something he could not fully grasp. His grin, once sharp and self-assured, now softened into something darker, a reflection of the abyss he saw mirrored in Vasily’s gaze.

“Ядовитость бывает разной, Василий. У одних она в крови, у других — в словах.” (There are different kinds of poison, Vasily. Some in the blood, others in words.)

The admission, heavy with unspoken promises, hung in the air like a fog of dark reverie. Nastka straightened, the gesture smooth but laced with the tremor of his own vulnerability. His heart beat with a rhythm of desperate longing, a silent plea to be enveloped in the witch’s dark embrace, to be worthy of the profound and terrible gift that Vasily bestowed with such effortless malevolence.

“Keep your poisons close, кот (cat),” Nastka said, his voice a low murmur of dangerous devotion. “But never forget, some poisons are sweetest when shared. Once you are ready, call me and I will ensure that we both taste it....”

there's a hum from the witch, gloved fingers skating over fabric covered thigh in a brief flutter as he thinks of the ink and scars hidden beneath and the poisoned blood that spilled from his skin at the hands of someone who was supposed to protect him. "eh, depends on who you are gifting to. some people, they just need poisoning." or their lungs filling with spores so they slowly suffocate under the delighted gaze of one and only heir.

he watches nastka in his space, more than distinctly aware of the man's reputation. aware that there's a predator right here in front of him, wrapped in fine clothes and jewels. but a tiger in a diamond collar can still tear your throat out and vasily isn't an idiot. he may like this customer who extrudes a violence that reminds vasily of home to the point it makes his heart ache with longing. he feels like the darkened halls of the cursed coven that vasily was born into. his mother an outlier to the deranged bloodline and paid the price, but for years vasily was happy there, blood splattered and thriving. he might like this customer, but he's not so trusting as to let his guard down, or let him within striking distance. this might be vasily's domain, everything in here under his control and command, but the witch has always prided himself on his survival instincts and he knows that nastka is dangerous and vasily is disposable in his eyes.

still, dangerous or not, he enjoys their back and forth. pleased to have someone who can match his cruelty in this city of predictable crime and boring violence. with arms crossed he leans against the shelves behind the counter, lets the moonflower vine curl over his shoulder and bloom their poisoned blooms against the dark of his suit. "that depends, would you like fast or slow? would you want it to hurt or be nothing more than simply slipping into slumber and never awakening?" gloved fingers brushes over luna pale flower so violently poisonous. pink eyes flick up from under heavy lashes to watch the mafioso within his space. "would you like to watch as they saw their worst nightmare and have their heart burst from fear?" a brief pause and he smiles, waving his words away. "hypothetically of course." the smile that touches his mouth never manages to make it to his glinting gaze.

his mother tongue hits him in his snapdragon covered sternum, longing once more so strong he believes he can smell the blood tang of the coven halls. teeth bared in a grin so sharp it could cut, "Ядовитыми здесь являются не только растения. Имей меня в виду, мой друг." (It's not just the plants that are poisonous here. Keep me in mind, my friend.)

[sleepynegress]

Shuri Meta: A Dark Prince and his Kidnapped Bride...

Once upon a time... There were (and still are... see: Red Riding Hood for free on youtube rn, which also uses some of this construct), girls who embodied a kind of beauty and innocence, with a suggested hint of darkness and the beginnings of exploring desire, being seduced by a dark figure.

These constructs were (and still are) popular... Pretty girl, embodying beauty, and purity (but with an obvious dark streak, that comes from grief, neglect, and so many other possible places) and a dark prince who is struck by that. He gives her gifts...but he also takes. A baby brother, killing a unicorn in order to drape the entire world in permenant darkness. Hell, even the gown is a common trope...(within WAKANDA FOREVER they name some of these in Riri's lines noting it and still....*woosh!*) Ultimately, the goal is for her to be his bride, to dwell in the dark with him. To mutually destroy and then rule over it together.

This was and still is a basic archeotypical space girls play in, either as a way to explore burgeoning desire in womahood in a fictional imaginative space or to tread a well-worn road, they enjoy. ...And I mean ANCIENT. These stories been around since BC and AD in most cultures all over the world. But in Hollywood... That particular space was almost exclusively *white* And envisioning an Afro- and/or Metzo/Indig-fantasy construct?????? *PSSSHHHH* To even begin to bring up that was possible, would likely get a WTF look and then, laughter and tears. And this is despite the fact that these constructs are at their oldest in these cultural spaces.

And yet, here we are... In a film, that bravely and fully jumps into the grief pool...and still has laughter, character development, and an arc, that includes the beauty being seduced by the dark prince trope.

And this time....She's *not* snow white skin.

She's deep brown skin. She's not long dark wavy hair... She's short carefully beautifully constructed coils... She's not embellished with sparkly blush and pink gloss... Her brown skin is dotted with white mourning ritual paint. She's not *even* biracially acceptable, with beige skin and long curly hair...& not even as a dark-skinned young woman, has she been "softened" in a way that comfortably signals "we still added these things that subliminally signals feminine/desirablity markers for you to help soften the fact that she's dark", i.e. long micro-braids, false eyelashes, et al ...and yet, here she is, with a story-arc, that heavily samples this construct and even some black women & girls are startled by it.

[nanbeidou]

- Aether and Lumine & Luminiferous Aether -

(before we begin, I wanna point out that this works for their names in CN and JP as well since they have very similar meanings like light and void)

So, in ancient Greece, AETHER was the air breathed by the Gods and was embodied as an ancient deity of light. A fifth indestructible element, along with the four physical elements of the world fire, air, earth and water.

This element, aether, in its crystalline state can form celestial bodies, which can mean planets, stars, nebulas, etc.. And alchemists used to believe that this spiritually pure element had miraculous capabilities! (Albedo's object of research, right?)

(( side note, as I was trying to get those screenshots, I discovered that when the twins try to attack the unknown God, they don't use their swords anymore, they use a power that looks like light.. kind of opposite to Dainsleif's ))

for a time, a physicist named Huygens, theorized that light was a wave and -since all waves are basically energy patterns that move through a medium- Aether was basically the medium through which light travelled. (keep in mind lumine means to light up or illuminate)

He called this Luminiferous Aether, or light-bearing Aether. some time later Newton said 'that's bllshit, light is not a wave it's particles', and later another guy came and made an experiment and said 'no no, it IS actually waves' and so on and so on until a lot of physicists n failed experiments later Einstein dropped his latest hit - the Theory of Relativity. Basically, the conclusion was that Luminiferous Aether didn't exist, but Einstein came up wth the "new Aether" which was what we now know as the fabric of spacetime.

So yeah, I'm straying from the main point, which is that I don't actually have a point, but I found it very interesting that the choice of the twins' names (with similar equivalents in other languages) was after what was believed to basically be the fabric of space and time...

So could this mean that the twins cannot travel or fully function if not together? a sort of one entity that cannot use all their power when separated?

another very interesting bit that was discovered in the Enkanomiya books, is that the people there used these words to archive and categorize: Earth, Water, Fire, Wind, ETHER, and VOID. these could also be a hint as to the actual nature of the twins, what do you all think?

[monstrousgourmandizingcats]

I posted 5,504 times in 2022

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I tagged 5,503 of my posts in 2022

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#art - 259 posts

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#reblog bait - 169 posts

#umineko no naku koro ni - 167 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#my roommate on the rosa canina arc: c'mon shimako! you have to run! you embody the body politic; you're the leviathan! this isn't up to you!

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Between the text of the first three Locked Tomb books themselves, the back matter in Gideon the Ninth and Harrow the Ninth, and a few interviews, I think that Tamsyn Muir has provided us with enough information to semi-confidently predict at least one major plot element in Alecto the Ninth. It has to do with Harrow, the Resurrection, and what’s beyond or underneath the stoma.

In the Gideon the Ninth back matter Tamsyn says that Harrow is “named very specifically for the harrowing of Hell” (GtN p. 468 in the paperback). The harrowing of Hell is an event in the traditional Christian theology of Jesus’ death and resurrection where He descends into hell and brings salvation to righteous people who died before His time. As Kate Mary Warren’s “Harrowing of Hell” article in the Catholic Encyclopedia of 1907-1912 puts it:

This is the Old English and Middle English term for the triumphant descent of Christ into hell (or Hades) between the time of His Crucifixion and His Resurrection, when, according to Christian belief, He brought salvation to the souls held captive there since the beginning of the world. According to the "New English Dictionary" the word Harrowing in the above connection first occurs in Ælfric's homilies, about A.D. 1000; but, long before this, the descent into hell had been related in the Old English poems connected with the names of Cædmon and Cynewulf. Writers of Old English prose homilies and lives of saints continually employ the subject, but it is in medieval English literature that it is most fully found, both in prose and verse, and particularly in the drama.

The Biblical citation for this is I Peter 4:6, which describes Christ preaching “even to the dead.” Historically the way this was understood was that people before Christ who had died without “deserving” hell but for whom Jesus Himself hadn’t died yet went to a morally and hedonically neutral underworld space like we see in Ancient Greek religion. It was this particular space in hell that was harrowed. More recently the view has been advanced that He just emptied the place and gave out salvation like Oprah giving out cars, and there is some early evidence for this understanding too (Paschal Homily of St. John Chrysostom; I Corinthians 15). In the interview that Tamsyn did on the Nona the Ninth release day, she tells us bluntly that “Harrowhark is in Hell”.

So that establishes--in my opinion--that Harrow is, is or is going to go, beyond the stoma and release someone, or something, trapped there. One might think based on what we’ve seen of the stoma so far that this would be a very bad thing. “[W[here the things are that eat us,” as Ianthe puts it (GtN p. 382), seems like an awful place filled with awful people, or beings--the thing that possesses Colum in the climax of Gideon the Ninth, the horrifying-looking stoma itself, and of course the devils that the Empire is fighting on Antioch and that have made it to the Ninth House by the end of Nona the Ninth.

But hell is by definition a weird and horrible place with weird and horrible things in it. What if, in the case of at least some of the “things that eat us,” that isn’t their fault, and isn’t how it’s meant to be?

I’m indebted to my IRL best friend and Locked Tomb pusher @mayasaura for pulling these quotes and page numbers for me, as well as realizing a certain numerical discrepancy in the first place:

Twice in the first two books, “ten billion” is given as a figure of people being “avenged” by Blood of Eden (and a certain evil cougar well-known to us all). Cytherea declares herself the “vengeance of the ten billion” on GtN p. 405. Wake gives the same figure on HtN p. 465. Yet suddenly in Nona we get a figure of eleven billion as the capacity for Jod and the OG Lyctors’ cryo ships (p. 13), and ten billion as the figure that The Trillionaires “le[ft]....behind to die, having stolen financing and support and materials” (p. 395). There are a few possibilities here: either The Trillionaires took a billion people with them in their own fleet, Jod is very bad at math for a scientific and medical genius, or the eleven billion capacity for the cryo fleet was supposed to give extra room just to be safe (this is what I think is likeliest). Either way there’s a slight ambiguity about the pre-Resurrection population of the Solar System in general, which, when I noticed it, got me thinking about the other big ambiguity with population figures in these books: the fact that the Nine Houses ten thousand years in the future do not have a population in the high ten digits or even close to it; even the mid-sized individual Houses only have a few million people each (NtN p. 30; the Seventh and Eighth Houses sum to nine million), and the total population is maybe a hundred million at the very most.

So where is everybody?

Jod did not resurrect everybody who lived in the Solar System when he and Alecto “went full fucking Hungry Caterpillar” (NtN p. 409). We know this for a fact; this is where the neo-Niners came from when he fulfilled his promise to Harrow to repopulate her House (HtN p. 35-36). As Jod puts it, “I set many aside, for safety.” Whose safety from whom?

Here’s Jod describing what’s beyond the River in Harrow the Ninth (p. 340-341):

"A genuinely chaotic space--chaos in the meaning of the abyss as well as unfathomable...located at the bottom of the River. The Riverbed is studded with mouths that open at proximity of Resurrection Beasts, and no ghosts venture deeper than the bathyrhoic layer. Anyone who has entered a stoma has never returned. It is a portal to the place I cannot touch--somewhere I don't fully comprehend, where my power and my authority are utterly meaningless. You'll find very few ghosts sink as far as the barathron. If I believed in sin, I would say they died weighted down with sin, placing them nearer the trash space. That's what we've been using it for, in any case. That's where we put the Resurrection Beasts. The rubbish bin...with all the other dross."

Note the deeply dehumanizing and condemnatory language. Rubbish, dross, trash. “Very few ghosts” are down there, supposedly--but do we really think John Gaius would do that? Just pontificate to his Lyctors and tell lies? Lies about the number of pre-Resurrection people whom he’s hated and dehumanized for ten thousand years, the proportion of the human race that for whatever reason he thought couldn't or shouldn't hack it in his brave new thanergy-powered world?

I do. And I came away from Nona the Ninth with a more sympathetic view of his original intentions than did most of the fandom!

I think that at least some of what's on the other side of the stoma is, or are, the souls of the people Jod in his infinite wisdom decided not to resurrect. The world below the bed of the River is directly associated with hell both in the text of the series and in interviews with Tamsyn, and furthermore I think that Harrowhark is going to replicate her namesake's "triumphant descent” and free at least some of these souls, who are in turn at least as likely--probably likelier--to wreck up Jod and impose real consequences on him as Alecto is. I think that this fits the plot, the themes, and The Locked Tomb's overall structure as a story from its cosmology and theology right down to the names of its main characters.

In ten months we’ll see if I’m right!

290 notes - Posted November 3, 2022

#4

I should read those low fantasy Byzantine girlboss books. Half a dozen zillennial Catholic feminist mutuals of mine can't all be wrong.

352 notes - Posted April 29, 2022

#3

Reblog this and tag it with whether you say “aunt” to rhyme with ���haunt” or with “cant”.

636 notes - Posted January 18, 2022

#2

People who haven't read Dracula before and aren't familiar with its reception history should be aware that Jonathan crowing about how "up-to-date" shorthand is starts a theme that will continue for the rest of the book. Stoker is very interested in pitting then-cutting-edge technologies--the train schedules, the shorthand, and later on things like recorded sound, blood transfusions, and electric lights--against his folkloric vampires. The book is such a great encapsulation of its period today because Stoker set out to make it an encapsulation of his own time when he wrote it.

742 notes - Posted May 16, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

The P in Quincey P. Morris stands for Pardner.

813 notes - Posted May 25, 2022

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[thecreaturecodex]

Nascent Demon Lord, Dalmosh

“Dalmosh” © Wizards of the Coast, by Izzy. Accessed at the Monster Manual V Art Gallery here

[Commissioned by @annotaremonstrorum​, who wanted a version of Dalmosh from MMV as a nascent demon lord. Their ideas for developing Dalmosh’s cult were very good, and incorporated fully into this entry. The original was a CR 17 with more than 400 hit points and an AC of 13. It felt like a very purposeful experiment with tweaking the hp/CR ratio, and I wonder how it actually worked in play. My guess is not great. I also gave him the dispelling slam ability so he could have at least a chance to pull his signature swallow whole on a high level character.]

Nascent Demon Lord, Dalmosh CR 21 CE Outsider (extraplanar) This massive fleshy creature appears as a boneless parody of the human form. Its legs are columns of swaying meat, its arms overlong with swollen fists, its head conical and asymmetric. It has a gaping maw with blunt teeth, and covering its bodies are sealed fissures disturbingly similar to both sutures and jaws.

Dalmosh The Eternal Hunger, The Walking Mountain Concerns hunger, destructive gluttony, living demiplanes Domains Chaos, Destruction, Evil, Strength Subdomains Catastrophe, Demon, Entropy, Ferocity Worshipers ogres, trolls, creatures trapped in the Gullet Minions dwiergeths, gibbering mouthers, piasa Unholy Symbol a closed fist with a mouth on its back Obedience eat another creature alive. Gain a +4 profane bonus on CMD to avoid being grappled Boons 1: bear’s endurance 2/day; 2: divine power 2/day; 3: extended hungry pit 2/day

Dalmosh the Eternal Hunger is a walking mountain of meat and teeth. His home is the Flesh Mountains, a range of Abyssal terrain spanning several layers that is itself faintly alive. Dalmosh wanders through these mountains, consuming all in his path and chewing himself a cave to hide in whenever he tires enough to rest. Almost everything is food to Dalmosh—animal, vegetable, mineral—although he seems to find unworked earth distasteful. Dalmosh is dull, brutal, and indiscriminately destructive, and he leaves sweeping arcs of ruin in his wake.

In combat, Dalmosh is simple and uncreative. He attacks whatever he can reach, attempting to swallow it whole. Creatures that elude his reach may be pelted with thrown debris, but after a few rounds he will ignore them in search of easier prey.  When struck, Dalmosh’s skin opens up into a set of temporary, but still deadly, jaws. His surface is covered in the scar tissue of previous such openings. Dalmosh has a keen sense of smell, and can be distracted by particularly aromatic morsels.

Any inanimate objects Dalmosh consumes, as well as creatures lucky or clever to fight their way there, are transported to the Gullet, a sprawling demiplane in the shape of a fleshy labyrinth. Gusts of foul wind, pools of acid and occasional meatquakes are terrain hazards here, but there are creatures that make a living in the Gullet. These are swallowed victims who either couldn’t escape through planar travel or simply chose not to, and there are even permanent settlements built in this moist, organic refuge. The largest of these is called Garnamastra, and it is ruled by a rakshasa calling himself the Eyeless Tyrant. It is said that the treasures of ancient realms and slain heroes are scattered throughout the Gullet, and some foolhardy adventurers have allowed Dalmosh to swallow them in order to go treasure hunting.

Despite his dim intellect and utter indifference to worship, Dalmosh has managed to gather enough of a cult following to empower him as a nascent demon lord. The dwiergeths consider him their progenitor, and some pipe a quick prayer to Dalmosh whenever they consume a particularly scrumptious morsel. Ogres, trolls and other evil giants view him as something of a figure to idolize and emulate, although they also view him as a bogeyman to scare their children with. Some particularly evil and crazy spellcasters see Dalmosh as an embodiement of planar paradoxes such as living planes and pocket dimensions, and use gate spells and offerings of rich food and unusual sacrifices to gain Dalmosh’s service as a living siege weapon.

Dalmosh           CR 21 XP 409,600 CE Colossal outsider (chaos, demon, evil, extraplanar) Init +3; Senses darkvision 120 ft., low-light vision, Perception +24, scent Aura cloak of chaos (DC 24), frightful presence (300 ft., DC 29) Defense AC 36, touch 5, flat-footed 36 (-8 size, -1 Dex, +31 natural, +4 deflection) hp 455 (26d10+312) Fort +26, Ref +18, Will +25 DR 20/good and slashing; Immune charm and compulsion effects, death effects, disease, electricity, poison; Resist acid 30, cold 30, fire 30; SR 32 Defensive Abilities rejuvenation Offense Speed 50 ft. Melee 2 slams +34 (3d8+16 plus dispel), bite +34 (4d8+16 plus grab), secondary maws +32 (4d8+8 plus grab) Ranged debris +18 (2d8+16/19-20) Space 30 ft.; Reach 30 ft. (15 ft. with secondary maws) Special Attacks fast swallow, gluttonous frenzy, spawn maw, swallow whole (8d8+16 bludgeoning, AC 25, 45 hp) Spell-like Abilities CL 21st, concentration +27 Constant—cloak of chaos (DC 24) 3/day—greater teleport Statistics Str 42, Dex 9, Con 34, Int 4, Wis 23, Cha 22 Base Atk +26; CMB +50 (+52 bull rush, sunder; +54 grapple); CMD 63 (65 vs. bull rush, sunder) Feats Blind-fight, Cleave, Great Cleave, Great Fortitude, Improved Bull Rush, Improved Initiative, Improved Sunder, Improvised Weapon Mastery, Intimidating Prowess, Lightning Reflexes, Multiattack, Power Attack, Throw Anything Skills Acrobatics +15 (+23 when jumping), Climb +32, Intimidate +38, Perception +24, Survival +24, Swim +32 Languages Abyssal, telepathy 300 ft. SQ nascent demon lord traits, no breath Ecology Environment any land (Abyss) Organization unique Treasure none Special Abilities Dispelling Slam (Su) A creature or object struck by Dalmosh’s slam attack is subject to a targeted greater dispel magic effect (CL 21st). Gluttonous Frenzy (Ex) As a full round action once per minute, Dalmosh can move up to his speed and make a bite attack against every creature he can reach along his movement. Nascent Demon Lord Traits (Ex/Su) Dalmosh is a powerful unique fiend with the following traits:

Immune to charm and compulsion effects, death effects, electricity, poison

Resist acid, cold and fire 30

Telepathy 300 ft.

Dalmosh’s natural weapons, as well as any weapons he wields, are treated as chaotic, epic and evil for the purposes of overcoming damage reduction.

Dalmosh can grant spells and boons to worshipers as described in his cult entry above

Rejuvenation (Su) If Dalmosh is killed, he crumbles into rot and is reborn in the Flesh Mountains 2 days later. Dalmosh can only use this ability once per year; if slain again in that time, he is permanently killed. Spawn Maw (Su) Whenever Dalmosh takes 20 or more points of damage in a single attack, he can create a set of jaws as an immediate action from the wound. These jaws attack as secondary natural weapons and have a reach of 15 feet. If the creature that dealt that damage is within 15 feet, Dalmosh may make a secondary bite attack agains that opponent as part of the same action. Secondary maws created in this way remain for 1 hour. Swallow Whole (Ex/Su) A creature swallowed whole by Dalmosh can make its way to the Gullet with a successful DC 26 Escape Artist check or by dealing 20 points of damage while swallowed. A creature that travels to the Gullet in this way is deposited in that demiplane without further injury. If Dalmosh is subject to a dimensional anchor spell or a similar effect, this option is not available. If a swallowed creature cuts its way out of Dalmosh, Dalmosh can still use swallow whole immediately thereafter without penalty.

[rhys-rambles]

FIGHT CLUB | 1999

I was introduced to the movie Fight Club around 3 years ago. It wasn’t until recently I’ve become interested in it. So here’s my Fight Club breakdown :) WARNING FOR SPOILERS!!

For those who don’t know, Fight Club is a cult favorite novel that was later adapted into a film released in 1999, directed by David Fincher. Starring Brad Pitt, Edward Norton, and Helena Bonham Carter.

The story of Fight Club revolves around three main characters. It’s told from a first-person perspective by a nameless character that’s commonly called ‘the narrator’, who has a dead-end white-collar job at a major car company and has fallen prey to what he calls the ‘Ikea-nesting instinct’. Dictated by social norms he walks perfectly in line like a docile sheep, which translates into an inauthentic, repetitive and empty life.

He suffers from a bad case of insomnia, which causes him to be neither fully awake, nor fully asleep. Sometimes, he entertains self-destructive thoughts: as he flies around from state to state for his job, he prays for a crash or mid-air collision every time the plane bankes too sharply on takeoff or landing.

During a flight, he meets an eccentric and hypermasculine character named Tyler Durden.

Tyler seems to be the direct opposite of the narrator. He’s a wolf rather than a sheep, disentangled from society, and impervious to social norms. He takes what he wants, without asking, and whenever he pleases. He’s self-sufficient, has no superiors, and doesn’t care about material possessions.

The movie later reveals that Tyler and the narrator are the same person, as Tyler is a product of the narrator’s imagination, that’s probably induced by severe insomnia combined with dissatisfaction with a dull, meaningless existence and a lifetime of repressed urges.

The narrator is addicted to going to support groups for specific illnesses because these give him the opportunity to cry, which seems to be a remedy for his insomnia. The downside of his behavior is that he isn’t genuine; he has no testicular cancer, or blood parasites, yet acts as if he does, so he can reap the benefits of these sessions.

But these benefits come to an end when another non-genuine visitor starts to join the sessions as well. This is a woman named Marla Singer, and her motive for joining these sessions is, and I quote: “It’s cheaper than a movie and there’s free coffee.”

Marla is a self-destructive, chain-smoking fatalist, who’s expecting to die at any moment, but finds it tragic that it never happens. She steals food and clothes for a living and attempts suicide by overdosing Xanax.

Even though the narrator, Tyler, and Marla are totally different personalities, they all live their lives accompanied by a nihilistic undercurrent.

Tyler seems to have figured out what causes this emptiness, and during the course of the story, his solution unfolds. Unfortunately, his character slides from a sage-like father figure to an anarchist terrorist, who’s out to destroy modern civilization. Nevertheless, he exposes a series of harsh realities about modern life that are worth contemplating.

Anti-consumerism

The anti-consumerist stance of Tyler Durden becomes obvious when he verbalizes his concern about the modern way of life. Shortly after the narrator meets Tyler, he discovers that his apartment went up in flames. After this unfortunate event, realizing that he has no friends to call, he calls Tyler. The two meet, and the narrator complains about losing his furniture, and his respectable and almost complete wardrobe. Tyler responds rather indifferently and slightly sarcastically before he begins to express his views on the matter. Quote:

“We’re consumers. We are by-products of a lifestyle obsession. Murder, crime, poverty, these things don’t concern me. What concerns me are celebrity magazines, television with 500 channels, some guy’s name on my underwear. Rogaine, Viagra, Olestra…”

It becomes clear that Tyler has quite an unconventional view of what’s good and bad. Murder, crime, and poverty are generally considered bad things, while consumer goods like televisions, clothing from a certain brand, products that help to hide aging, enhance bedroom performance, and help us with weight loss, are considered preferable.

Tyler has a contempt for the artificial, as opposed to elements that have been a natural part of the human condition, probably as long we exist. This way of thinking touches upon an ancient Cynic philosopher named Diogenes of Sinope, who believed that modern, civilized life hinders our natural state.

At the end of the movie, it appears that the narrator has destroyed his apartment himself when he was taken over by his alter ego, Tyler Durden. This deed was the first step onto the road of detachment from his property, into a more authentic way of life and to (how Tyler puts it): “reject the basic assumptions of civilization, especially the importance of material possessions.”

The narrator moves in with Tyler, who lives in a dilapidated house with ongoing leaks, power failures, and no Ikea furniture. Slowly but surely, the narrator indeed detaches from his previously destroyed property. “Things you own end up owning you,” Tyler tells him. And this simple piece of wisdom probably hits home, when the narrator realizes that he doesn’t need all these worldly goods, and is actually much happier without them.

Non-conformity

Tyler Durden is a non-conformist, and shows, again, similarities with Diogenes, who not only purposefully lived in poverty, but also rejected social norms. For him, social constructs are nothing more than a superficial layer of culture that represses our true nature.

Diogenes lived in a barrel, Tyler lives in an abandoned building. Diogenes urinated in public, Tyler urinates in the soup of a restaurant.

The narrator, on the other hand, seems to be the embodiment of conformity, as he adapts his lifestyle completely to societal expectations. The problem with this behavior is that we dedicate our existence walking the paths that people other than ourselves have laid out for us. This need to conform, the fear of falling by the wayside, this sickly preoccupation by what others think of us, this necessity to keep up with the Joneses: what an exhausting way of life, just to feel ‘accepted’.

So, what if we stop caring? What if we reject the generally accepted norms, and choose our own values, elect our own leaders, determine our own goals, regardless of the social expectations? This is a fundamental difference between the narrator and Tyler Durden, who puts it like this: “I am free in all the ways that you are not.”

Ironically, later on in the story, Project Mayhem, a terrorist organization led by Tyler that grows out of Fight Club, is a textbook example of conformity, as it’s members wear the same clothes, are absolutely equal, abolish their names, and are referred to as space monkeys that sacrifice their lives for a greater cause. We could say that by rejecting one doctrine in order to be ‘non-conformist’, we often imprison ourselves in another one.

Fighting and masculinity

Fighting and the experience of pain play a significant role in Fight Club. At the beginning of the story, Tyler asks the narrator to hit him as hard as he can. He explains his strange wish by saying: “How can you know yourself if you’ve never been in a fight? I don’t want to die without any scars.”

So, the narrator hits him. Tyler hits him back, and the two engage in a fistfight. Both seem to feel surprisingly pleasant afterward and decide to do it again. Their nightly activities on a parking lot attract the attention of other men, that are also interested in joining these non-hostile fistfights. And thus, Fight Club is born.

It’s widely known that voluntary exposure to certain forms of pain makes us stronger in the face of adversity, which could be a legit reason to partake in these fights. As the narrator states: “After fighting everything else in your life got the volume turned down.”

However, Fight Club is more than just a metaphor for dealing with hardship through exposure: a physical fight, and the violence and aggression that goes with it, resonates with the primal part of our being.

Not only the men in the story are attracted to the violence of fighting; Fight Club as a movie and novel was so impactful on its audience, that real-life Fight Clubs started to emerge.

The story shows an experiment in which the members of Fight Club pick fights with random strangers (and are supposed to lose), which isn’t as easy as it sounds; most people do everything to avoid physical conflict.

But Fight Club makes us wonder if it’s a good thing that we’ve lost touch with these primal tendencies. Should we repress this part of human nature? Or, perhaps, integrate it in healthy and constructive ways?

Self-destruction

When the story progresses, Tyler and the narrator begin to see the world through a different lens. Tyler criticizes the modern self-improvement hype by saying: “Self-improvement is masturbation. Now self-destruction… ”

This statement is slightly confusing, as the increasingly destructive nature of Fight Club, in which faces are permanently mutilated and teeth are knocked out of people’s heads, doesn’t seem to be a sustainable way to live.

But Tyler might be onto something when we look at self-destruction as the destruction of a false self.

‘Self-improvement’ often points to the accumulation of external goods: a better house, a better job, a better body, more money. But why should we endlessly want to improve ourselves? Why can’t we just be happy with how things are, and take life as it comes? Or as Tyler states:

“I say never be complete, I say stop being perfect, I say let’s evolve, let the chips fall where they may.”

We create an identity through material wealth, and social status. And as far as Tyler is concerned, this false sense of self must be destroyed, before we are free to do anything we want. Therefore, the ‘space monkeys’ of Project Mayhem live by a mantra which goes like this:

“You are not your job, you’re not how much money you have in the bank. You are not the car you drive. You’re not the contents of your wallet. You are not your fucking khakis. You are all-singing, all-dancing crap of the world.” - Tyler Durden, Fight Club

Tyler makes a so-called human sacrifice, namely a man called Raymond who works a dead-end job in a convenience store. Raymond wanted to be a veterinarian, but didn’t make it because it was “too much studying.” Tyler threatens Raymond, saying that if he doesn’t start studying within six weeks, he’ll kill him.

In this scene, Tyler points to another aspect of self-destruction: the act of letting go of fears, negative self-talk, and all distractions, so we can fully focus on our purpose. It’s the destruction of everything within ourselves that holds us back from living life on our own terms.

A near-life experience

Many people go great lengths when it comes to pain avoidance. The problem is that running from pain means running from an inevitable part of life.

The prospect of incurring pain makes us anxious, and often leads to self-indulgent decisions. That is: choosing the less painful path, even if a more painful path guarantees more success and pleasure in the future.

Tyler Durden deals with this by inflicting a chemical wound on the narrator’s hand using lye.

As expected, the narrator does everything to escape the pain: he uses visualization techniques he learned at a seminar, and retreating in his cave to find his ‘power animal’. But Tyler slaps him in the face, forcing him to stay with the pain, saying: “This is the greatest moment of your life, man. And you’re off somewhere missing it.”

For the narrator, Tyler has one central goal: he must reach bottom. After putting him through suffering, and destroying his false identity, there’s yet another aspect that must be crushed: hope. Losing all hope is freedom. And, therefore, he must reject what has rejected him: his father, and God. I quote:

“Consider the possibility that God does not like you. In all probability, he hates you.” - Tyler Durden, Fight Club

Tyler states that we don’t need God. That we shouldn’t care about redemption and damnation. And if we’re God’s unwanted children, so be it. Thereby, we lose all hope, but are also liberated from religious doctrine and fatherly authority.

Now we’re truly free. Now we can create our own meaning, and live how we want to live.

Tyler emphasizes the importance of knowing what we want in life. To achieve this, we must be willing to get out of our comfort zone and jump into the unknown without safety brackets.

The narrator, however, has difficulties letting go of security. He begs Tyler to not mess around when he lets go of the steering wheel in a driving car while hitting the gas. Tyler calls the narrator ‘pathetic’, and yells: “hitting bottom isn’t a weekend retreat. It’s not a goddamn seminar. Stop trying to control everything and just let go!”

After an inevitable car crash, Tyler states that they just had a ‘near-life experience’.

Wrap up

Fight Club is a story about rebellion against the status quo and a plea for the simple life. It criticizes the ways in which we are so hung up on security, and material possessions, and how people let social norms dictate their lives.

‘Stuff’ has become our religion. The idols we worship are Ikea and Starbucks. And the more we immerse ourselves in such an empty and unfulfilling existence, the more we start to resemble the things that we produce: manufactured products rather than authentic human beings.

Tyler shows us a way out. And even though his insights are profound, the execution is questionable. Fight Club, and its terrorist branch Project Mayhem, show us how easy it is to oppose one ideology, in order to fall into another, and how a cult-like echo chamber built on rigid beliefs could become very destructive.

Nevertheless, Tyler challenges us to be self-sufficient and disobedient to the authorities that let us down, to live authentically and in the moment, to confront our fears, to boldly step out of our comfort zones, and let the things that don’t matter truly slide.

[bigskydreaming]

I don’t often muse upon PJO, but when I do, its random as hell. 

Anyway, tonight’s thought (singular, also: derogatory, as in very possibly a mistake) is about exploring aspects of the Greek gods that are extrapolations of like, what they’d be like in the modern world instead of just in terms of their ancient myths.....and how that might widen the scope of their demigod children and their powers.

Like take Hephaestus for instance. God of the forge and fire, of invention and artifice......now widen the scope on those things through the lens of the modern age.....might he also be considered the god of modern science, not just in terms of things like engineering and technology, but also physics, chemistry? Or would those things fall more under Athena’s purview......unless you separated them into finer divisions. Like, you could consider Athena’s overview of knowledge and wisdom to make her the goddess of science and higher learning or whatever in general........OR you could separate it like.....Hephaestus is the god of natural or physical sciences like physics and chemistry, and Athena is the goddess of not just wisdom and tactics but things like psychology, computer sciences, etc.

Or OR get Dionysus up in there too, and make it like Hephaestus is the god of chemistry, of chemical reactions and the like, Athena is the goddess of physics, of the most full and complete understanding of the physical universe via things like the unified field theory and its comprising forces of electromagnetism, strong and weak nuclear force, etc, and then Dionysus the god of biology, hmmmm.....

Cuz imagine then, demigod children of Hephaestus, where instead of pyrokinesis, some get powers like transmuting elements.......oh man, the things you could do with that??? Not just lead into gold but they’d be terrors in battle because they could transmute the very air someone breathes into chlorine gas, blood into acid, flesh into stone. Or using that power defensively, making them able to keep guns from firing by dampening the chemical reaction that comes from igniting gunpowder, or just knocking someone out or putting them to sleep by just tanking their metabolic reactions. Mingling magic with modern know-how and creating their own version of truth serums by turning the water someone drinks into something akin to sodium pentathol when just brushing their fingers against someone’s glass, or rendering all drugs or toxins that might have been slipped into their drink null and void by transmuting them into harmless H20. 

(I know that Luke was mentioned briefly as being good at making potions aka alchemy due to being a son of Hermes, but frankly, transmutation as a mastery of the periodic table makes waaaaay more sense for Hephaestus’ kids, I’m just saying. And plus the Greeks didn’t so much consider Hermes an actual god of alchemy as they more just kinda viewed him as their god of all things miscellaneous and tended to lump anything they didn’t have particularly strong feelings about and/or a grasp of under his umbrella. Hermes was really just the patron god of being random as fuck and oh great gods of Olympus I have no idea what I want to do with my life, give me a sign. Hermes: poofs into existence on their shoulder and says SOUNDS LIKE YOU NEED TO GO BE GAY AND DO CRIME YOU HEARD IT HERE FIRST, DIVINE MANDATE, LETS GOOOOOOO).

Give children of Athena more practical applications for being heirs to her wisdom, knowledge and strategic acumen by also giving her dominion in the modern age over humanity’s quest to better understand the universe we live in and all its rules, the ins and outs of the laws that govern reality itself.......thus Annabeth and others’ potential acumen for magic being here not the end result of them stepping on Hecate and her kids’ toes, but rather more a function of making them the embodiment of ‘magic is just sufficiently advanced technology’ as they - via an innate and heightened understanding of the very nature of the physical universe - find holes in the fabric of space and time that let them slip from Point A to Point B as easily as crossing the street, play tricks with gravity and relativity and things that leave others baffled and amazed and them just shrugging and being like its all in the wrist, dude, and also, the fact that our mom just GETS reality in a way that everyone else will still be playing catch-up to a thousand years from now.

Children of Dionysus (yes I know he barely has any shhh we’re not paying attention to the series we’re just musing on demigod powers here) who combine the godhood of grapes and revelry with loud music and laughter......the way music can help with plant growth, because music is essentially just VIBRATIONS and vibrations stimulate activity in plant cells in a variety of ways.....and thus similar to Mr. D’s tricks with controlling vines and rapidly growing plants, AND his ability to affect the psyches of others, which is described as inflicting or curing madness and I’m like ehhhh do we have to describe it thus though.....put all that in a pot, shake it, not stir, and abrakadabra, alakazam, other psychic pokemon random Psyduck shout-out and voila! ALL of that could be afixed to and made the end product of godly and demigodly control and manipulation of vibrations, cuz Dionysus is literally the god of just vibing in all its infinite forms.....and thus its all just about how vibrations affect plant life on a cellular level, how they can affect brain chemistry in a variety of ways, triggering a lot of the more primal centers/functions of the brain, etc. You kids are driving me crazy, he’d yell at his demigod kids, and they’re like umm wow, like ACK CHOO UGHLY, father, welcome to the 21st century, all we’re really doing is directly stimulating the prefrontal cortex of your cerebellum with our banging rock music, and its making you angy, what about it?

And speaking of actually, if we and by we I mean me cuz I am and its wheee, are theorizing about Athena’s brood getting to be all magical wunderkind whizkids with their scientific acumen and divine cheat-sheets for the physical universe, maybe Aphrodite and her kids could snatch up those psychology and psychiatry job titles instead. Love, desire, also things like obsession, hyper-fixation......is Cabin Mighty Aphrodite really just pheromone central or are its campers more like magical dopamine and serotonin factories just pumping out good vibes all around them, being like come hang out, its free brain juice. Like, imagine kids of Aphrodite who just by their mere presence could help the legions of ADHD demigods focus better, concentrate easier, get shit done because the goddess of passion and her children like....have the gift of helping people to more productively pursue their passions in ALL forms, not just the physical desires they hold for others but the passions they hold for arts and crafts and sports and y’know, saving the world on magical coming-of-age quests when their milkshakes bring all the monsters to the yard. 

And then Ares not just as a god of war and conflict, but of entropy....the tendency of the universe to trend towards disorder, randomness, uncertainty....the kind of things that so often incite or enflame conflict......but applied at large not just to interpersonal dynamics but to the world itself. With his children possessing demigod abilities that disrupt or weaken bonds, both in the form of emotional ties between allies and commitments towards various ideals or courses of action, but also the ability to PHYSICALLY weaken bonds, resulting in an enemy’s weapon falling apart at a touch, or increasing the instability or volatility of an object so it blows up akin to how Gambit of the X-Men’s powers work and can turn even playing cards into a weapon, etc, etc.

And don’t even get me started on Hermes! No, seriously, don’t. Mostly because I haven’t thought that one through yet and I got nothing. I mean I got some things but they are nebulous and have yet to spring forth fully formed from my head like Athena from the fuckhead of Zeus, that absolute fuckhead of legend and yore. In my defense though, I haven’t like, eaten any primordial goddesses of thought and memory, so.......like, idk, I’m taking the longer route here I guess.

[hrodvitnon]

More Post-Abraxas Genocide Route ideas (Pt. 2)

(Cont. from Pt.1)

Okay, so next let me throw out some thoughts of my own on the Post-Abraxas Coexistence/Genocide Titans other folks on here have talked about, throw some more ideas about them in the blender for people to chew over!

With Gigan, your earlier post about how there was probably the odd surviving lifeform on all those other alien worlds that Ghidorah conquered and turned into its endless-storm-planet trophies came back to me, and I'm thinking: maybe an Abraxas-verse version of Gigan is a survivor from one of those alien worlds. Maybe it was an Alpha Titan on that world before Ghidorah attacked, and it avoided starving to death when Ghidorah turned the skies into a sunless, neverending tempest of yellow lightning. Or maybe Gigan was a bioweapon-beast created by an alien civilisation on the attacked world, in a failed attempt to defend themselves against Ghidorah, kinda like Anigoji Mechagodzilla's origin.

Either way, when Ghidorah was done razing Gigan's homeworld and moved on into space looking for its next target, Gigan followed. Maybe Gigan has a kind of religious worship for Ghidorah; maybe Gigan wants to kill Ghidorah as part of his programming or as revenge for the destruction of Gigan's homeworld but knows he doesn't have the means to kill Ghidorah on his own; or maybe Gigan is just a Titanic parasite who only arrives on Ghidorah's planetary conquests after Ghidorah has finished with them, feeding on whatever scraps are left there. So Gigan is like the reversal of a pilot-fish, following Ghidorah's trail from newly-made storm-world to newly-made storm-world over the eons, and he's been hanging back for thousands of years since Ghidorah came to Earth and has failed to turn it into the next hurricane-covered trophy. Then when Gigan senses Ghidorah's final defeat, that's when Gigan moves in to make landfall on the planet...

And now some ideas for Destoroyah. To fit with how the Monsterverse's shift towards portraying the kaiju more as forces of nature than as embodiments of the atomic age, maybe Destoroyah is an ancient Titan like Godzilla but... older. Specifically... what if mainstream science, just like it got it wrong when it said there's nothing but rock and magma between the Earth's crust and inner-code; also got it wrong when it said nothing more advanced than a few large worms lived on Earth during the Precambrian. What if before the Oxygen Catastrophe 2 billion years ago, the Earth had an entire other biosphere of complex life on its surface, and it's from this time that Destoroyah originally hails. Making Destoroyah the oldest known Titan in Earth's history, and he's regarded by the cast when they find out about him as being one of the first Titans - Destoroyah is to Titans kinda what En Sabah Nur/Apocalypse is to mutants.

Maybe the Oxygen Destroyer was the only thing that caused Destoroyah to stir because its unique energy, though deadly to all forms of modern terrestrial life, is more akin to the Micro-Oxygen that fed Destoroyah and creatures like him in their Precambrian environment. And maybe the O.D. somehow gave the awakening Destoroyah what he needed to adapt his biology to a post-Oxygen Catastrophe world and begin terraforming/xenoforming it to better suit his primordial tastes.

Considering how Mothra in particular seems to be a rather supernatural Titan, and how Destoroyah's Precambrian home is to the modern Titans what the Elder Gods are to Cthulhu... maybe Destoroyah has an affinity with the cycles of life and death and reincarnation that goes way beyond even Mothra's powers, and this is how Destoroyah draws Emma's consciousness into himself upon her death to act as a major part of his hive mind, to make himself perfectly-adapted for re-conquering the new world once he's done stirring from the O.D. blast and he's fully awakened after a few decades.

And now onto Battra. Maybe in the Post-Abraxas Genocide Route, he had a part in the start of Godzilla's genocide. Maybe a few years before Godzilla decided to nuke humanity back to the stone age, Battra was fought and killed, but Battra's radioactive remains seeped into Godzilla upon death just like Mothra's in KOTM. And instead of empowering Godzilla, it enabled Battra's spirit to linger within Godzilla. Having a more-than-mind-control effect on Godzilla, not truly possessing him or forcing him to do anything against his will, just influencing Godzilla's decision-making and impulses over the years, bringing Godzilla to the point of solving the human problem the way Battra thinks Godzilla should have solved it as soon as the atom bombs had awoken him.

---

These... all of these are good ideas, and I especially dig the Cthulhu-esque take on Destroyah.

[for-ests]

Hey, not sure if you do smut but I think this request can work without a lot if you’d prefer😁 reader’s an art student and needs to sculpt a full body nude sculpture and Tom offers but gets a bit cheeky

thanks for the request dear! this was fun to write :-) i literally know nothing about art so if I get something wrong just ignore! i hope you enjoy!! i went a diff +route but I still think it fits! [ mlist ] 

Word count: 3, 273

Warnings: slight nsfw,, nudity 

Pairing: Tom Holland x art student reader!

“The issue is… I have no idea who to ask.” You sighed deeply, embarrassment washing over you as you talked to your best friends about your upcoming project. 

Everyone knew you were a talented sculptor. That wasn’t the issue. The issue was that your professional sculpting internship at (your school) was currently learning about Ancient Greece. One of the requirements to pass the semester was to recreate a modern sculpture of someone you knew, and to make it as realistic as possible. Nakedness and all, which was a huge distinction of Greek statues.

There was a big problem though. You were incredibly shy, and you didn’t know who to ask to model for you.

Nudging you with a laugh, your friend flashed you a mischievous smile. “You know a lot of cute guys, why don’t you ask one of them?”

“Cute guys?” You scrunched your nose. “I know like three guys and I would cry if I had to see them naked.”

She sighed. “Fair. Does it have to be a guy?”

*-You nodded regretfully. “It has to be the opposite sex. It’s annoying but I u

erstand why. It’s important to be familiar with both sexes.”

Your best friend air quoted ‘familiar’ with a ridiculous smirk.

“Shut up.” You huffed, trying not to laugh at how dramatic she had become.

“I think I know a guy, he’s an aspiring actor and model.” Your best friend added casually.

Groaning, you shot her a glare. “Why didn’t you say that right away?”

She shrugged. ��I like listening to you talk about your art.”

Her compliment almost worked, but you already knew that was partly the reason she was teasing you so hard. The other reason was because she had been trying to set you up with multiple friends for months. According to her, you had been single for far too long.

Her offer made you ponder deeper about your situation. You were slightly awkward when it came to getting to know someone, but you couldn’t imagine asking someone to strip right away so you could sculpt every curve your eyes grazed over. Whoever it ended up being had to be incredibly confident. Shallow yes, but that’s why you were hoping to find someone insanely attractive. Attractive people were usually confident, and responsibly so. “Maybe a stranger would be worse than someone I know.”

Snorting through her nose, your best friend stared at you like you were crazy. “Definitely not. If it’s awkward you never have to see him again. And if it’s not, well you can get cozy with a cutie.”

Taking a deep breath, you rolled your eyes. “I hate you sometimes.” You mumbled under your breath. You knew she was right, but you would never inflate her already enormous ego like that.

“You love me.” She sang sweetly.

“I do, now give him my number and tell him it’s of the utmost importance.”

❀∙∘✿∘∙❀

Days later, that conversation was on your mind as you nervously organized your sculpting tools. Trying to relieve some tension, you slapped a pound of clay against the table, and it echoed throughout the workshop.

Reality was the fact that this so called model boy was on his way to your studio. His name was Tom, and from the pictures you saw–he was incredibly handsome.

You couldn’t believe you had agreed to this, but alas, you needed this experience to pass your class. You just hoped and prayed that Tom was a lot more outgoing than you, and could keep the conversation flowing as you stared intently as his erect… penis.

Your cheeks flared up at the thought. How the hell were you going to do this?

Y/N: help (Y/B/F/N) I cant do this!!! im freaking out

Y/B/F: is he even there yet? lmfao

Y/N: noooooo :((

Y/B/F: if it makes you feel any better, he’s excited and thinks ur pretty

Y/N: why didn’t you tell me that before??!

Y/B/F: do u feel better now tho?

Y/N: no

Y/B/F: ik ur smiling ;) u aint slick

Giggling like a schoolgirl to relieve some of your anxiety, you set your cell phone on the table. Truthfully, your best friend had made you feel better. If anything bad happened, it would surely be a wonderful story to tell everyone in the future.

Your eyes naturally glanced across the room to the clock on the wall. 7:00pm. Tom would be here any minute as scheduled.

You took a deep breath and studied your surroundings. All your tools were in place, and the entire studio was tidied up as if you hadn’t worked the space in weeks. Next, you walked to the wall and glanced at your reflection in the mirror.

With your hair in a bun and your shabby working clothes, you looked suitable at best. You did have a little bit of makeup on to help yourself feel more confident. If you felt good, you could make your client feel good in return.

At least it looked like you didn’t try too hard. You didn’t want this man to get the wrong idea.

Then, snapping you out of your trance, there was a knock on the door.

You straightened out your shirt one last time, and tucked your baby hairs back behind your ears. Scoffing immediately after, you shook your head. Why were you trying to look cute? Who cares!

You rushed to grab the front door, afraid that you were making him wait too long. You flung it open, eyes locking with his right away.

You froze.

He was even more dashing in person.

“Judging by your cute outfit, I think I’m at the right place. Y/N right?”

And a British accent?

“Y-yes!” You flashed a smile to mask your obvious hesitation. You could easily play it off by opening the door and keeping your gaze averted. You were the master of smoothness.

“Thank you for coming, it’s about time I got this project done…” You tittered, locking the door behind him for privacy purposes. “You can set your things on the couch over there.” You pointed, eyes meeting his again when he glanced to the couch and then back to you.

“Awesome.” He nodded, holding your gaze for a moment longer than necessary.

“Do you want anything to eat or drink?” You offered, nodding your head back to the small kitchen in the back of the studio. You wished the studio apartment was yours alone, but you shared it with multiple other college students in your program.

“Water… or beer if you have any?”

You threw your head back in laughter, causing Tom to smile at your genuine reaction.

“Yeah, I can get you one.”

“In the meantime, should I just strip?” He smirked, not trying to be sly with his flirtations. Though your cheeks were dusting with pink, you were able to match his energy. Your best friend definitely set you up with someone she knew you’d like.

“Do whatever you want, love.” You mimicked his British accent. “You’re the guest after all.”

Walking past him, you gave him one last look when he was fully-clothed. Tom was certainly the player type, practically the perfect embodiment of the muse you had in mind. This wouldn’t be awkward for you, and it would be even better for him. Men like him thrived off of cheeky discomfort in their female counterparts.

Yet, truthfully, you were enjoying it as well. It felt nice to be complimented so soon into an introduction.

As you cracked open a can of beer for Tom and yourself, you could hear him shuffling around with his items. The sound of his buckle falling against the floor made you suddenly nervous to turn around.

Inhaling sharply, and gulping down a few more sips of beer, you finally gained the courage to walk back to the studio setup, where Tom had already wandered over to, completely naked.

“You seem to be in your element.” You noted, trying to keep your eyes leveled with his. Now that you were thinking about it, remaining calm and professional was excruciating in front of such an attractive man. And it certainly wasn’t helping that he was enjoying your embarrassment.

And least this was exciting.

Thanking you, Tom took the beer and pressed his lips against the cold aluminum. “I would definitely feel a lot more comfortable if you were naked too, darling.”

“Hey now,” You nose scrunched in a form of mock distaste. The man caught on immediately, holding your gaze with a sort of amusement that was masking desire. “I might think about it if you sit nice and pretty for me for more than five minutes so I can sketch you.”

“Your wish is my command.”

Shaking your head in disbelief, you walked over to your crafting desk. You decided you were going to start with the hardest part, the part which your grade depended heavily on- from the waist down.

But first, you quickly sketched Tom posing in multiple poses until you were satisfied with one. You had him mimic a sculpture you couldn’t recall, where one hand was pointed forward and the other was rested casually on his hip.

“Can I see what one you want to do?” He asked curiously from the stand you had him propped up on for a better view.

“Sure.” You flashed him your finished sketch. The lines darted all over the page, making it hard for him to picture what was going on in your head. The picture you had drawn would not make sense to anyone else but the artist. But apparently you were talented, so he would trust the process.

You were also trusting the process. The situation you were in could only be awkward if you allowed it to be. And so far it was moving along smoothly. You had your favorite music playing softly in the background to fill the silence, and Tom seemed to be relaxed and unbothered by how quietly you worked.

“That’s cool.” Tom whispered, his eyes narrowing in confusion.

Giggling from his sudden proximity, you tried to tease him. “It’s fine to not understand it.”

“I definitely don’t know what’s going on but it’s still interesting.” He admitted.

You set the paper back down on the table, and decided to attempt and sculpt the base. Moving past a still naked Tom, you tried to immerse yourself in your work, or at least make it seem like you were focused. “This takes hours you know, weeks and months- it won’t make sense for a long time.”

“Perfect.” He grinned. “I’ll get plenty of time to know you better.”

Laughing through your nose, you kept your attention on the clay you had dropped on the floor. “You can put your clothes back on.”

“Oh!” He chuckled. “Yeah.”

As you carefully trimmed the base clay with a heavy frame, you lifted your head to find Tom slipping a robe back on. He definitely came prepared. Had he done this before?

“Come here.” You gestured. “I need you to set your feet down on the clay.”

“I didn’t think this would get dirty so fast.”

“Shut up.” You huffed, grabbing his foot and pressing it down hard until the clay took shape to the size.

“Cold.” Tom commented in discomfort.

“I know.” You released your grip on his calf, looking up at him with a sheepish smile. “All part of the process, but good news for you- you’re done for the night.”

“Really?” Tom raised his eyebrows. “That’s it?”

You nodded, standing back up to normal height. “I’m experienced enough to sculpt the feet and legs tonight.”

“When should I come back?” He sounded a tad too eager, but it caused your smile to reappear.

“Tomorrow night if you’re available.”

“And maybe next time you can bring your own alcohol?” You gestured to the multiple beer cans poking out of the recycling bin.

The man flashed you a smile. “Sounds like a date.”

“It’s definitely not.”

Despite your rejection to his amusing advances, Tom’s expressions and mannerisms remained hopeful. Was it possible he was truly enjoying himself?

“I’ll leave my robe here. I’ll see you tomorrow at the same time?”

“Same time.” You confirmed, nodding him off. It was about time you started to really focus. Attractive man or not, you always got the most and best work done alone.

Because after the first night, the dynamics between you and Tom changed. He became incredibly invested in your process, asking you questions left and right, asking if there was any way he could help, and practically just lounging next to you hours after he would have been free to go.

“What do your sculptures usually look like?”

“Since this isn’t my own studio, I don’t have any of my pieces here. But I can show you a picture when I get my hands wiped off.”

“What do you build your sculptures with? It’s hard to imagine that a replica of me can come out of that much clay.”

“My sculptures are built with water-based clay and are fired in a gas kiln to cone 4, about 2150 degrees Fahrenheit… “ You nodded towards the back wall that had an installed kiln for you and everyone to share. “Trust me, there will be a lot more clay. Hundreds of pounds worth.”

“Can I help?”

“No.”

There was no lying that you enjoyed his presence. Whether he was talking your ear off or napping to the peaceful beat of your jazz music, there was never a dull moment when Tom was in your studio.

Weeks passed, and so did the process. Your sculpture of Tom had progressed to week three, and that’s when you started to grow nervous. When you finished, which you were almost done, would you ever see him again?

You had barreled through the awkwardness of replicating his genitals and chiseling his six pack perfectly into the hardening clay- but you still felt like something was missing. You knew even when you finished chiseling away his jaw line and chocolate brown eyes, there would still be something missing. Him. His presence.

Maybe it would have been better if you partnered up with a man that had zero personality.

Since it was just you and Tom for hours on end, your conversations gradually grew deeper, they stretched into new lengths, so much so that you eventually felt like you had known him for years.

When Tom claimed he wasn’t looking for a relationship, you felt your heart fall. That’s when you realized you were developing stronger feelings for your model. You hardly had time to think about trivial things like that, but you couldn’t deny your disappointment.

And you were sure he saw the brief tears glossing over your eyes when you turned away. Yet, he didn’t make light of it.

That’s when you knew it was useless.

It seemed useless until the sixth week, when you finally finished the head. You were too afraid to attach it. Tom had spent the last couple hours with you in the studio. His legs kicked back and occasional whistles streaming from his lips. He had practically memorized your playlist to the extent you had.

“Tom.” You called. “Your face is done.”

He cheered excitedly, pushing himself off the sofa and racing towards you. Tom had learned to give you your space while you worked, but in moments where you summoned him, he barely stood inches from you. The man would constantly touch you in ways you couldn’t deny sent shivers down your spine.

Like he did as he rounded the tabletop, planting himself by your side and placing his hand on the low of your back. As if it was natural.

“Wow,” He breathed. “Y/N,” Your name upon his lips sounded as blissful as the music. “It’s.. it’s wonderful. It looks just like me... wow that’s scary.”

“I’m happy you like it.” You bit your lip, wishing you felt more satisfied with your project. You wanted to impress him, but you didn’t want him to go.

“All I have to do is attach the head, and fire it up in the furnace one more time. Then it should be good to go.”

You moved to do so, wanting to remove yourself from his grip. It hurt your heart to know the bond you had formed with him would come to an end. Why did you even let yourself get to this point? Was it because he was good at flirting?

“Wait-” His sentence faltered when you whipped around to face him- looking somewhat hopeful.

“What?”

Tom paused, his throat tightening with the words he never thought he would admit. But he couldn’t leave tonight with at least trying. He needed to know how you felt. Because he could either leave with you in his arms, or he could leave never having to see you again.

He had been thinking of confessing to you for days now, but now that the time came, his mind was blank. “You really are beautiful, you know that right?”

“Why do you feel the need to flatter me?” You blurted, still unable to decipher the truth behind his words. You didn’t know how to accept such a compliment. Tom had claimed you were beautiful before, but this time it felt different.

His eyes spoke volumes. The beauty his eyes held was something you would never be able to replicate in a statue. It was a sight you found yourself never growing sick of.

Averting your eyes, you tried to move again. Yet this time, Tom gripped onto both of your arms.

“Look at me.”

“I can’t.”

“Why?”

“I won’t let you play me.”

“I was never playing you, darling.” The tenderheartedness intertwined with his words caused you to slowly turn your head back. Your lip quivered, and suddenly you felt like a schoolgirl all over again. You felt childish and unprepared for the intensity of your emotions.

“I don’t want to leave tonight without knowing if you feel the same.”

You blinked, hand reaching out to grip onto his. “And that is?” 

“I don’t know if it’s love, but it could be.” 

“That’s all I needed to hear.” You said, incredibly softly. 

Tom released your arms. And before either of you could process what to do next, your lips interlocked. 

You gripped onto him tightly, balling his white t shirt into a fist to keep him from leaving your side again. 

“Tom-” You breathed. 

The kiss you shared was laced with a fervent need, one that you had never experienced before, and one that you craved again and again. 

After the passion you felt, the skin prickling desire, there would be no turning back. 

“Fuck, you’re everything”’ He mumbled against your lips. 

You pulled back slightly to gaze at his expression. He had looked so afraid before, but now he was smiling from ear to ear. Much like he did the day he arrived with a teasing attitude, ready to get under your skin and provide entertainment. 

“How long have you felt like this?” 

“Since the first day.” He kissed you again, his hands cupping your cheeks. 

You whimpered against his muscular frame, trying to ignore the fluttering in your core, fluttering that begged and craved for more. 

“How did you wait so long?” 

“I wanted you to finish.” 

You chuckled, cheesing at his straightforward, simple reply. 

You were positive from that moment moving on, that Tom was not what you had thought at first glance. This entire time he had put you and your project first, letting his own desires sit and warm on the back-burner. That was something you would hold close to your heart, something you would cherish. 

He cared for you in the same way you cared for him. 

“Stay with me tonight, Tom.” 

“I would love nothing more.” 

[armorsleevedsinglehit]

madara’s voice and other sundries

naoya uchida embodies madara for me. i love the way he speaks very slowly (and often softly!) and with genuine Intent, but that he also has these moments when you can hear the anger and grief and just unhinged rage in his voice, especially in his battle cries at the end of ep 366 and his screaming “you bastards killed izuna” in 368. you can just feel how powerful madara is from naoya uchida’s voice alone; you feel that he’s ancient, that he’s been through tragedy after tragedy and become hardened and bitter, that there’s this immeasurable weight behind his words. and i love that when he speaks you feel like he has all the time in the world to deliver his words (something i think that he and hashirama share, which really distinguishes them from the rest of the characters. you really get the sense that they’re from a different time).

A kind of odd thing that i debated on when i started this blog was how madara’s speaking voice would translate to written text, in a way that still felt true to his character, because there’s so much that uchida conveys with his voice that you just can’t do through text. and then there are other logistical issues as well, like, how strong of a writer is he? how is he at expressing his emotions on this blog, which is meant to be a personal space for him? i struggled with this to maybe a surprising extent, but i wanted to make sure more than anything that his character consistently gets through in the way he expresses himself. this medium, madara’s blog, is such an interesting challenge for me. madara is at most late 30s here; he’s been through a lot, but he’s not the same character that we meet in episode 322 who has died and been brought back to life multiple times. he still has that very human quality to him, which i wanted to show in the way he talks on here. you may or may have not noticed that madara doesn’t use a lot of commas, and yes, i know how grammar works; the lack of commas was a conscious choice on my part. i try to have him write mostly short, simple sentences, because he feels to me like the type of person who wants to just get to the point quickly when he’s talking about his own issues. i don’t see him as a particularly eloquent or talented writer, so it can sometimes be really hard to get across everything he feels in his heart and his mind with just his words. but it also forces me to simplify my own words and ideas, which i feel is gradually making me a stronger writer. (i have noticed myself omitting commas in my other writing, a lot of which is academic, so that’s something to watch out for lol.)

but all that aside, let’s actually talk about madara’s voice. because it’s one thing to hear naoya uchida’s voice and be like “okay, that’s really nice,” but if you’re reading a fic and madara has a piece of dialogue, what exactly does that sound like? i’d argue that finding that voice is actually super hard, especially if you just watch the sub and don’t speak japanese, because you’re not fully able to translate all the little twists and tones and inflections that uchida puts into the character. 

so you have that slow, soft voice, but it’s often got a very rough quality to it as well, both from overuse (he gets hoarse easily) and because the katon has fried his vocal chords. and at least in my headcanon he smokes (not religiously- he smoked way more during the war), so that definitely gives him a rasp, a bit of a crackling quality. but i also feel that he’s got kind of an unexpected range, partly because he’s usually speaking way down at the bottom of it (listen to naoya uchida’s regular voice; it’s much higher than madara’s!) plus quite a bit of vocal fry; he tends to purr. he’s got a voice well suited for jazz (because i adore jazz and i do whatever i want on my blog), if jazz even exists in the naruto universe. i don’t know exactly how to describe it but his voice has a sort of old-timey feel to it, the way an old radio announcer from the 1940s sounds (though possibly less excitable). the way he speaks definitely sounds like he’s from another time.

and i think he has a nice singing voice too! he doesn’t sing much, only very quietly to himself when he thinks no one else is listening, and he’s not professionally trained, but if he were to really belt it out (especially in his teenage days- before he ruined his lungs a bit) he’d have a nice, powerful, distinct voice with a bit of a growl to it. my mind always goes to oingo boingo era danny elfman, or maybe a cross between him and pete burns. (COMPLETELY unrelated side note, if you’ve ever wondered about modern au madara’s wardrobe, just look at literally any image of pete burns from the 1980s. i mean...come on.)

i also quickly want to give a quick shoutout to neil kaplan and xander mobus, who voiced adult and child madara in the english dub, because i think they both did a great job. kaplan obviously took inspiration from uchida’s performance (even though he kind of sounds like he’s got a cold the whole time) and i find xander mobus’ raspy texas drawl kind of incredibly charming. his performance (especially his little outbursts) makes me think that madara trained himself to speak in a more professional manner when he got to be clan leader, and before that, he spoke very informally- lots of “ain’t” and its equivalent. 

anyway, after all this, i am only really able to come up with descriptions and real-world approximations to what i feel like madara’s voice should sound like...but i think that’s okay, because naoya uchida provides a stunningly good interpretation, and besides that, everyone who reads the manga or watches the show will have their own interpretations as well. (i feel like i’m wrapping up a youtube video essay as i type the next sentence.) really though, let me know what you think!! do you have any madara voice headcanons that you’re dying to share? 

[thethornprince]

so since ive been wanting to post about my dsmp au i thought i should make a post summarizing what you need to know to understand. my posts about it will be under: dream smp gods au. (its not actually them as gods i just add gods to the story.)

the rest will be under the cut.

 the concept and base idea of the au

this au was started out when clara as a concept was getting really popular and i ended up being really invested in the concept of her being the embodiment of the universe and tommy's mom and i thought of adding other gods and stuff like that and that's mostly it. after this i'll be talking about the characters i made and things i've changed about others.

clara (she/her)

-the embodiment of the universe and tommy's mom.

-due to her being unable to stay in a physical form for long enough to raise tommy she gave tommy to philza.

-chirp was the only thing she left tommy with, philza told tommy it was from a woman in space named clara and he assumed she was an astronaut. he lost it eventually and clara guided bad to it so he could return it to tommy.

-while without a form she can only communicate with certain people. (those being, green, blue and crimson whom are the only gods i've come up with so far but i'll make more later.)

-cares deeply for tommy and tries to look out for him in all the ways she can without a form.

-does not have much direct influence.

-only place known to mankind that isn't part of her domain is the nether.

green (they/them)

-one of the first humans to exist, upon their death they were granted godhood and the title 'guardian of the end.'

-one of dream and drista's parents.

-a messenger of sorts for the gods.

-powers are mostly nature themed, they can bring dead plants back to life, grow plants out of nowhere, control vines and other plants, ect.

-but they also have end powers, like teleporting, manipulating the void, enderdragon wings, etc.

-wears a smiley mask like dream's at all times to not disturb endermen. also to avoid eye contact.

-one of the less morally gray gods, tending to believe in good instead of looking for chaos.

blue (they/them)

-the other first human, upon dying they were also granted the title 'guardian of the end.'

-dream and drista's other parent.

-tends to be assigned to control mortals whom have gotten out of control and may threaten even the gods' safety if they get out of hand.

-has water themed powers, causing rainstorms, just plain controlling water, draining the water from living things, freezing things in ice.

-has end themed powers like green.

-wears a frowny face mask to avoid eye contact with endermen.

-interested in sally's potential as she seems incredibly capable and thinks she probably deserves to become a god.

-only looks out for the people they care about. (those being green, dream, drista and sally and clara to an extent.)

-heavily dislikes crimson.

crimson (she/they, also known as the blood god.)

-god of the nether, brought it to life with their own powers.

-originally a mortal whom through something gained the powers of a god, enough to rival blue and green who are arguably the most powerful of the gods.

-dreamons are those who died in the nether and ended up impressing them before that. she summons their souls and offers the deal if they accept it they become a dreamon. dreamons purpose is to take over their host to cause blood.

-dream's dreamon is a very ancient one, probably one of the first to exist and saw the power they would have if they could successfully possess him, ESPECIALLY if they could pretend to be him but due to dream's powers they couldn't fully. them and dream are forced to swap every two hours and have decided to ally, using their combined power to reach a single goal.

-crimson despite being a bloodthirsty god has a code they won't break under ANY circumstances.

-a mentor to techno, she saw great potential in him and offered, he accepted since he wanted to be the best fighter he could. when he told tommy to die they immediately stopped training him because they wouldn't help someone who thought that was fine to say. after techno started housing tommy they came back.

-as an add on during tommy's exile they took an interest and talked to him while he was the nether becoming a sort of parental figure to him.

 sally the salmon (she's not a god to be clear)

-a shapeshifter between a salmon and human.

-queen of an underwater kingdom, which has VERY similar ideals to l'manburg in its beginning.

-she originally met wilbur when she sneaked out of the kingdom when she was a princess as a salmon to see the outside world. she was drawn towards wilbur's music and ended up transforming into a full human to talk to him.

-the reason she had to leave wilbur and fundy is because the previous ruler of her kingdom had died and others who could've inherited the kingdom were somehow unable to run the kingdom so she had to, of course she and wilbur mostly lost feelings from their separation.

tommy (things that are relevant to him in the au)

-due to being the universe's son he has some powers mostly unconscious though, those being, his anger or sadness sucking the life out of things, the weather changing to suit his emotions, and the ability to make starlike fires in his hands.

-he almost always wins in a way and even if he loses there's something that makes it better.

-unaware of clara being his mother.

extra that i couldn't put anywhere else.

-sbi family dynamic is canon in this.

-wilbur and techno are twins who can shapeshift between piglin and human. wilbur prefers his human form and techno prefers his piglin one.

-if it isn't clear fundy shapeshifts between fox and human. and since foxes age faster than humans he does to an extent. this is my attempt at fixing the timeline.

-sally and blue have talked a few times.

-techno and wilbur tried to guess where tommy came from and the ideas because increasingly ridiculous, wilbur eventually made a joke about tommy coming from the fridge and the joked about the fridge being his as well. he also made a joke about his girlfriend being a fish which came full circle when he started dating sally the shapeshifter.

i finally made the post

im so happy

this is great

i can finally talk about my au on my account instead of sending asks.

im not gonna use the tags bc i am fcking insecuree