#someone who has survived for a long time at the expense of everyone and everything around them

[purplejabberwock]

I do think it's worth pointing out here that the end result of this is not 'species full of blobs who don't know how to use their brains critically'.

It's true that animals will reduce physical and cognitive load where possible. That is how life works! And I think reducing that to 'downhill flush of the-easy-way-out' is ... unintentionally misleading.

Just. Consider humanity throughout history. For everything we can manage to automate, what have we done with the time not spent on survival? What have we used all that excess energy for?

Humans crave enrichment. When a person's needs are met, when we are at rest, our most basic urge is to find something that enriches us. We search for the purpose that defines us. The philosophers who examined the world, the artists who painted it, the poets who distilled its beauty into an arrangement of words --

In many cases, this search for enrichment involves the act of creation in one way or another. And creation requires learning how to think.

Even the act of engaging with art forges in us a hunger to analyse, to break apart. To define what was important to us, or what wasn't. The act of experiencing art prompts thought. The need to communicate demands that we learn how to articulate thought.

It turns out a lot of skills are omni-applicable. And they can be self-taught with a great enough urge to engage with other people.

When someone isn't enriched, they know. Everyone knows that sensation of itchy restlessness, that undefined wanting; everyone knows how it feels to have their souls chafing for the act of something they cannot define, but is not whatever they're doing at the time.

We live in a world that does not allow us that freedom. We live in a world that does not allow us to rest. In that respect I don't think I blame tired people for seizing on something they think that will make life just a little bit easier than it is. In that sense, I suppose the real solution is to focus on creating a future where we can, in fact, rest without guilt, because in that circumstance people will ultimately reject what is easy but unfulfilling for something more difficult that enriches them.

I am not that worried about generative AI 'replacing' creative pursuits because ... people know. The flood of shit will rise, but people will still know whether what they've experienced has a soul or not, and go searching for something that does. Or they'll take the plunge and make their own.

Humanity's most basic distinguishing feature is the urge to create. They will protect it nearly all costs; even outlawed, even condemned, they will still create. Even at cost to themselves.

There will be a point in which the novelty of generative AI tools wears off. People will realise they are not being fulfilled. Their beings will itch against the chafe of stagnancy. They will realise they've been played.

I won't deny that it's probably going to suck in a lot of ways in the meantime, but the constancy of the human soul is the desire to tell stories and create art -- activities which require cognitive tools. This yearning isn't something that can be smothered, not even by nature's reduction to the least expensive mean.

Not for long, at least.

generative AI literally makes me feel like a boomer. people start talking about how it can be good to help you brainstorm ideas and i’m like oh you’re letting a computer do the hard work and thinking for you???

[a-gay-bloodmage]

Writing and posting Omri de Riva fic is going to be such a roulette on this Viago-loving website but it's a risk I'm willing to take

[alicerosejensen]

Another you

Warning: reader mutation (c-virus), angst, blood, slight aggression, acquired albinism, fem/reader (not an agent, an ordinary civilian who worked at the museum), Leon has plot armor, more narration than dialogue, the text contains an antagonist like Simmons (male character), Ada is helping Leon again, relatively happy ending.

Synopsis: You didn’t want to change, you loved him, just as he loved you, but against your will, your love turned into hatred and animal anger towards him. However, Leon still hopes that you will remember him...

A/N: This is probably my biggest work. Tumblr told me to fuck off a few times while editing, but I came out victorious in the fight, although I had to re-write the text into the draft a few times because Tumblr for some damn reason published it without my knowledge. I hope feedback if anyone liked it, because I have been burning with this idea for a long time!

The text also contains an excerpt from Byron's poems (I adore him)

He promised himself first of all that nothing would happen to you. That his work won't affect you in any way and you won't get hit by the corporate bastards, and you really didn't. However, something else happened...

But people whom Leon loves or simply cares about tend to leave or even die.

Everything was fine with you. Ideal in his imperfect life and you were this perfection that he valued and protected. A prudent person would not keep an expensive diamond in front of everyone, so Leon did not scatter information about you and who you are to him. You were loved and dear to him more than all the treasures of the world, he appreciated your tenderness towards him and kindness, because it was you who helped him get out of the hole of despondency in which he buried himself. His personal little guardian angel. Still, he has something to continue his fight against bioterrorism.

A normal working day, except that the museum where you work was supposed to host an exhibition of some very expensive collection for which you were so carefully preparing, forgetting about yourself. It seemed to Leon that you were burning with enthusiasm and love for the work you were doing, which made you walk around too excited, forgetting about food, so he had to remind you to eat. This exhibition had no meaning for Kennedy, but he did not belittle your efforts thrown into this preparation, especially since you were so happy that you were incessantly talking about all these paintings, historical activities depicted on them and objects: a pendant with a strand of hair of some queen - you explained to him that this is a symbol of affection that was previously used It's like you're giving a piece of yourself to your giver, a kind of connection with a loved one, but this is just one of the meanings of such a peculiar gift. Silk fans, a clock, a desk, some items of clothing that, in Leon's opinion, were very strange and he was just glad that fashion had moved far ahead.

Although he could interpret all this in one word: beautifully.

And you were beautiful too. He would have liked to spend more time with you, but you were completely absorbed in your work, and he was overwhelmed with paperwork that he couldn't stand, but anyway, at least he could come back to you and listen to excited speeches and new facts that he didn't know anything about and would hardly remember if he told him about it someone else.

And everything went to hell when there was another outbreak, less global, but most importantly - human lives. And yours.

He was trying to save you, even if someone else had survived this exhibition, he would still have saved you first and not someone else. Mini Raccoon City, that's what he called it, making his way with you to the emergency exit while you kept up with him on your heels, because today you were supposed to shine and glow and not cry with fear looking at the pale corpses of history and art lovers. The light from Leon's flashlight illuminated a small part of the space while you walked quietly thinking about Leon's words, "I wonder how much time we have before they get up?"

"Were they poisoned?" you assumed, because how could you kill such a huge number of people without weapons. Leon, watching the ventilation grilles in the rooms, suggested in his head only one quick way.

"It must be gas,"

But then you would both have died too, you decided, but you did not voice your thought, because shortly before the tragedy you were invited to discuss something by the sponsor of this exhibition. A man who managed to collect so many magnificent things with a rich history. The man who gave you flowers and flirted with you from the day you first met, despite the fact that you made it clear to him that you were not interested in any relationship with him, except for work.

However, Leon also remained silent when he saw the luxurious bouquet of scarlet roses on your work table, which filled your entire small office with their aroma. But right now that simply wasn’t the main thing. He needed to get you out of the mess that happened, and then ask about flowers from rich strangers.

You walked slowly, trying not to make any noise or cry behind him while you clung to his jacket, partially managing to wonder why Leon's gun was with him when he had no reason to carry a gun. All this, of course, was secondary, given how stress, coupled with imagination, turned the exhibits into various frightening figures that frightened, made you scream, thinking that the fallen armor, which was probably simply poorly secured to the stand was another dead man. I didn’t even want to think about what happened in the exhibition hall, much less imagine. Leon had to take you by the hand and at times drag you along with him because the panic really aggravated everything, he was afraid that you would start to go hysterical, but it seems that despite the periodic stupor, you kept yourself well under control, exactly until the moment when Leon’s flashlight went out, leaving you in pitch darkness.

“Leon?” you called out anxiously, feeling noisy ragged breathing behind your back. Was this what Leon was talking about? Until recently, you hoped that his words were just another stupid joke and the dead do not rise, but here behind you is the living embodiment of a nightmare who is ready to grab your neck and feast on warm flesh. Have time to scream? You didn’t even have time to fully scream when a strong grip grabbed you by the shoulder and roughly threw you to the side from the line of danger because you fell, hitting your thigh on the marble tiles, after which a series of deafening shots and the muffled groan of a dead man was heard, three bullets or maybe be more? You didn't count.

As if in slow motion on a large screen, it was impossible to take your eyes off what you saw. All sounds died down, leaving the silence of your own mind and the smell of blood.

All you could do was watch how the beam of light from the flashlight shines directly on the corpse and how Leon’s hands are trying to bring you to your senses, because you knew the one whom he had just completely killed. Richard, your colleague with whom you had coffee this morning and discussed the latest news, sometimes often joked at lunch... was now dead and you were crying without knowing it. Tears just flow uncontrollably from your eyes even as Leon wipes your face with his thumbs, trying to lift you off the floor and make you go outside.

“Come on, sweetheart, I know it’s hard but we have to go"

"I... I can't... why here?" You ask more into the void than from him

“I don’t know, but we need to get out of here.” Leon grabs you under the armpits, helping you get to your feet, dragging you towards the exit.

Better yet, this would all just be a nightmare. The noise from the shots makes you cover your ears with your hands while Leon once shoots people, at the same time trying to protect the slow-moving you. They scream, moan, attack and you feel like you are in a horror film with high-quality special effects and good acting, but you realize, albeit reluctantly, that all this is not a joke but an evil reality where Leon almost at the very exit asks you to pull yourself together and you don’t even you can stand on your feet. Before your eyes, everything collapsed and the world went crazy, trying to grab you with it.

"I can't... can't... I'm so scared..." your hands grab Leon and he hugs you to him, which only makes you want to cry harder and ask him to do the impossible - to return everything to the way it was. He hugs you tightly, kissing you on the top of your head, giving at least some reassurance given the fact that he has always tried to protect the little that he loves from his work, but you accidentally found yourself in the epicenter and your reaction is quite expected.

"Everything will be fine, please look at me," he asks in a soft tone, lifting your head and forcing you to look into his eyes, "It will be difficult, I do not know what is happening outside and what kind of virus it is, but you must not leave me alone. I shoot, and you stand behind me or hide if I tell you to. If you see a dead person, don't you dare approach him!"

"Is it like this everywhere?"

Leon didn't quite understand if you were talking about the whole city or just the upcoming race, in any case, he only nodded briefly, giving you a little more time to catch your breath while you listened to the rapid pounding of the heart in his chest. He was afraid too.

It could have tried better. You really pulled yourself together, but after contacting Hunnigan, Leon exhaled for a second, saying that the virus had not spread so far and in fact the appropriate measures had already been taken, she sent the two of you to the evacuation point where doctors could examine you and give you a vaccine injection in case it really was gas, as Leon said, which logically you were both breathing anyway. So the virus could have entered your body, the scariest thing you reasoned while you were following him, is that you are both alive by a lucky chance, because if Leon had not been attacked by an attack of tenderness, it would probably have been the last day of his life. You no longer even thought about the fact that that sponsor called you somewhere... Emerick. You smiled when you remembered that Leon called him a high-dimensional asshole, but he probably became a victim like everyone else, so there's no need to speak ill of him.

You thought that because you didn't think he was a bad person. You and Emerick had common topics of conversation, he knew a lot and he had a rich collection of rare things bought from auctions for a lot of money, besides, as he himself said, much of what he actually has was inherited in his family, which made you think that he probably was some kind of hereditary noble. His manners were really perfect.

It took about an hour before Leon left you in a quiet place. There were only zombies outside and a few survivors who, no matter how hard Leon tried, still couldn't help. They always died in front of his eyes, even now leaving a sense of guilt in his soul, because he should protect and not kill, but now this is the best thing he can offer them to the infected. Wide windows on the third floor of a God-forsaken warehouse protected from enemies and if you believe Ingrit, then this is the C-Virus that Neo-umbrella created, not so old, but in the terrorist market, in fact, it is already junk.

"At least there are no cocoons and lepoticas, otherwise I would have big problems"

You were sitting on the crates risking tearing your nylon tights while Leon was talking via video link on his work smartphone, waiting for his colleague Ingrit from F.O.S to plot the safest route to the plane that should pick you two up. Leon thought you were safe with him. You just sit quietly next to him trying to catch your breath while he does the main work and he was really calm until you screamed sharply falling off the box, forcing him to turn to you when he saw you holding your neck.

The phone immediately fell to the floor.

"What happened? Are you in pain?!"his eyes widened as he pulled out the dart that was the cause of everything. "Baby, can you hear me?! Everything will be fine, hold on!"

There was no one in the window. By the way, there was no time to search for the culprit. Thoughts were flying crazily in his head, Leon picked you up in his arms, hiding you behind drawers so that you would not get into anyone else's lens, noticing how quickly your breathing becomes shallow.

Was it a new virus or an improved one from before? You curled up crying from what seemed like your organs were turning into a burning cauldron causing hellish pain that made you moan loudly.

"Hunnigan! I need a vaccine, urgently! Where's the damn helicopter?!" Ingrit shot up for a moment. The women's painful moans in the background were ready to make Leon burst into tears and she was almost sure that tears were stuck in the corners of his eyes.

"It will take time to figure out what it is..."

"There's no time!" he shouted into the phone. Ingrit's fingers immediately clicked on the keyboard.

You sobbed. The bones seemed to melt, which made you literally lie on the concrete floor until Leon shifted you onto his lap, feeling your body temperature rise from normal to high.

That's probably why you threw up and blood gushed out of your nose. Your heart was pounding wildly, you didn't hear Leon screaming in panic, hugging your body to him, realizing that if you don't inject the serum soon, then everything will be over. You're dying, but Leon's brain refuses to accept it when he picks you up in his arms trying to save you because with your death, life won't make sense to him.

"You're not going to die!" the words expressed through clenched teeth echo in the spacious building as Leon picks you up in his arms and carries you outside in time. "Everything will be different"

He couldn't let this happen again. It was as if everything was being repeated again from hell to hell, only now in Helena’s place he is himself and he definitely won’t have enough strength to put a bullet in your forehead, and if he does... then he’ll shoot himself too.

Every minute was precious and if it weren’t for the infected, Leon would have instantly reached the right place and injected you with the serum, but luck was not on his side again, just like on the first day of work in Raccoon City. You were heating up so much that he could feel the heat emanating from your body, even through your clothes. Once the virus enters the human body, the incubation period varies for everyone: Deborah Harper lasted two hours before she mutated, for some it takes about a couple of minutes, even God himself does not know how much time is measured for you.

Having reached the helipad, Leon cursed everything in the world since the helicopter was not even visible anywhere. The situation was clearly not going in your favor. You again let out a painful groan, feeling like your body was literally burning and your head hurt so much that you wanted to be hit with a huge hammer. Leon stroked your back, holding you close to him. God, your temperature was already colossally high!

"Just a little more, be patient, honey" Leon doesn't believe it, he wants to, but he can. You scream and cry, trying to tear off your skin with your nails just to make this heat go away. He would like to change places with you, it would be better if he were dying now and not you, and not so monstrously.

The virus flows through the veins, attacks all defense mechanisms, mercilessly rebuilding the entire body in a new way, creating an aggressive weapon out of a person capable of mass murder without any remorse. Leon's affection does not destroy you, right now it is the only way to save yourself, but even if by some miracle an active medicine fell on your head, what is the chance that it saved you? The probability of healing, even with side effects, tends to be no more than 5-7%.

"D-don't want to d-die"

A pitiful groan, through the agony of pain you see Leon’s crying eyes, the skin peels off unnaturally under the influence of high temperature, but this is not visible under the clothes, but face...

"No no no no!"

Leon fell to the ground from your sharp push, but immediately jumped to his feet, running up to you after a wild, painful cry. Just one second and the body was suddenly engulfed in a flash of fire, turning the flesh into a hardened cocoon. You are gone.

It was all over.

Leon sees double. It shouldn't be like this, it shouldn't be like this! The gun is lying somewhere a couple of meters away, having fallen out of the holster when you pushed it away from you, and if this was a standard work situation, Leon would have tried to quickly run up to it or pick up the Sentinel Nine, but his hand did not rise. His knees hit the concrete floor painfully, along with the realization that he had lost again. The hard cocoon transforms the caterpillar inside itself into a beautiful butterfly, which is destined to fly, but Leon knows that everything human in you has burned out and only a monster will hatch from this cocoon, at best only vaguely reminiscent of you, so maybe it’s better to just tear it apart and then let him go on his own a bullet for himself?

The rain continues to pour, gradually calming down. The guys from B.S.A.A are already somewhere down there clearing the city of the infected and saving the survivors because there is a vaccine, there are ways to destroy the trash that Neo-Umbrella created. The sounds of gunshots mix with a frenzied rumble in his heart, which is why Leon doesn't want to hear anything anymore, preferring instead to stretch out his hands to your still warm cocoon, where some movement is already visible. Watching this, Leon was ready to miss even the deafening sound of the helicopter, but the light made him close his eyes and lift his head up.

Even without looking closely, he immediately realized that it was not the helicopter that Hunnigan had sent.

For the sake of love, people really do the most cruel things.

Leon immediately realized who was behind all this when the helicopter landed and several armed men jumped out of it, their faces hidden by masks. He slowly got to his feet, looking at the culprit of his suffering, dressed in a snow-white suit, with an impudent grin that Kennedy remembered from the beginning of the evening, when everything was still fine. Leon could have sworn that he had never felt such rage before, although a painful scream stuck in his throat.

No one pointed a gun at him. Everyone just froze, waiting for something.

"It's a small world, Mr. Kennedy," he said, waving to one of his assistants, and he and two mercenaries pulled a cryogenic capsule out of the plane. "But it was stupid to think that a man like you would die from a bunch of mindless zombies. I must admit, I didn't want to go to extreme measures until the last moment, I liked today's event, but because of you, I had to cancel everything. I've lost most of my collection"

"So it was you after all…" Leon muttered through his teeth, not yet grabbing the gun, realizing the risks. He is alone in the open space - a wonderful target. "I didn't see your corpse in the museum."

"A distraction," he explained, watching the capsule's preparation from the corner of his eye.

Emerick… Leon suddenly remembered how you recently confessed to him that he began to take care of you by giving you flowers, then inviting you for a cup of coffee, listening to music or general topics of which there were too many. But in the end, when the attentions began to exceed the standard amount, hinting at something more, you refused him, saying that you already have someone. You didn't notice, but Leon has been catching his obsessive glances at you all evening��� How sometimes you looked at the exhibits behind the glass case, which you can not touch, despite the ban.

But you didn't even choose between the two of them. Leon always came first.

"For what?"

Emerick smiled as he looked at the cocoon and Leon's question disappeared by itself. Because of jealousy? Because a rich bastard couldn't get what he wanted, even with a giant bank account?

"You won't believe it, Mr. Kennedy, but for love. Death took away a dear person from me and I want to return what belonged to me, however, you will not understand this"

Leon grinned, clenching his fists.

"Why? Why her? If you wanted to take revenge on me, then you would have taken revenge on me and not on her!"

"Who said it was you?" asked Emerick, looking at his interlocutor as if he were an idiot. "For the most part, you just annoyed me like an annoying fly, but no more, although you encroached on something that does not belong to you."

Leon was about to answer and pounce despite the machine guns pointed at him, but the movement below and the sound of the cocoon tearing attracted all attention. He has seen it many times and your hand was reaching out to break free from the tight shackles of the past flesh, forcing its way out. Everyone is closely watching the birth of a new life, but only in the eyes of one of those present there was delight, not fear and regret. Leon couldn't bear it… He didn't understand what was wrong. The transformation was different.

"Happy birthday, Ada,"

A memory flashed through his mind.

History repeats itself. Only it turns out that besides Simmons, there is another bastard who looks like him in everything.

Leon reached out to you, as if trying to grab you, to help you get out and take you away from here. A brief moment of hope still lit up in my soul like a small smoldering flame, my mind seemed to be clouded, and yet deep inside there was a glimmer of awareness. He couldn't get rid of the feeling that something was wrong while you were trying to get out, muffling all his annoying voices of caution. Wrong smell, wrong body color… Leon squints his eyes, the cocoon breaks and before he can grab your hand, he freezes.

The slimy, sticky naked body lying in front of him looked more like a white marble statue with a thin network of blue veins protruding under the skin. The mercenaries looked at each other, clutching their guns tighter but still not pointing them at you. The sight is really amazing. Leon comes up to you lying down, at first glance it seems lifeless, but looking closely, your chest quietly heaves and he kneels down again, pulling you to his shoulders, peering into familiar but still changed facial features.

There are no appendages behind the back, from which ugly claws protrude, no razor-sharp claws, no fangs. But instead, unnaturally pale skin and hair… the structure is thicker, and the color merges with the color of the body. The same discolored ones, but stuck together due to the transformation in the cocoon. You open your eyes a little, and instead of the usual iris, two red lights rush at him without a shadow of anger and aggression, just fatigue, something that Leon used to see when you stayed up late at work.

"And, when the grave restores her dead,

When life again to dust is given,

On thy dear breast I'll lay my head—

Without thee! where would be my Heaven?"

Ignoring the familiar lines of poetry, Leon remains silent when he gives him an order in a harsh voice.

"You won't understand," Leon has no doubt. He doesn't want to understand these motives. "You're not even worthy of the dirt under her nails, let alone touching her!"

Leon picks you up in his arms, turning to face Emerick, meeting with loaded guns.

"Did you infect her with the C-virus so that she would become your toy?"

"A toy?!" he snapped back.

Now it already looks like a confrontation between two men for the heart of one woman, almost a joust in modern realities in all its dirty manifestations and meannesses, but Leon does not feel the advantage. A fairy tale with a bad ending. One madman decided to use a virus to change the girl's memory and her appearance, making you the one who died a long time ago, and he…a brave man with a valiant heart who somehow thinks that even after death, Simmons is also connected with this. Even indirectly. Sold the idea of resurrecting someone else's personality in another person?

The rain is hitting your body in drops, and Leon wants to cover you, hide you, hoping that this is his second attempt. It seems that consciousness is returning to you, but you are still disoriented, not understanding who you are and what is happening. You became a part of the darkness that Leon carried on his shoulders.

"All for love," one wave of his hand, and the one standing behind him makes Leon bend painfully, crying out in pain, almost dropping you, his fingers dig into your skin, causing a barely audible moan from your mouth, but you are still snatched from his hands, carried into that capsule, after that, Emerick turns away from his opponent, putting something like an oxygen mask on you, stroking your cheek gently with his fingers.

"What the hell kind of love?!" Leon knows for sure that the other person is smiling even if he does not see it himself.

"You may not believe it, but I'm one-woman man, Mr. Kennedy. It took me a fortune to improve the C-virus so that it would affect her body without turning her into a vile insect-like creature. There was only one side effect after the final result - loss of pigmentation, but this is not significant, in all other respects it completely met my expectations. All THIS is for her sake."

"You sick... "

"No, I'm a heartbroken husband who lost his wife prematurely but now we will be reunited." Emerick looked at you lovingly before closing the capsule, which they began to load back into the helicopter. “And you, Mr. Kennedy, are just one of millions. You saw a work of art and decided to grped it when you had no right to do so. Someone like you will never understand her value, you were never able to give her everything she deserved!”

It’s hard to disagree when the muzzle of a machine gun is pressed to the back of his head, but Leon still fights as he watches the cryogenic capsule ahead being shoved back into the helicopter.

Adrenaline is pumping into his head and his palm is itching to get the second gun out of the holster, but Leon realizes one wrong move and this will be the finale in his story. You will drown in a pool of false memories, considering yourself the person you have never seen or known, you will begin to be called by another name, carrying antibodies to the improved C virus in your new body and you will give yourself into the arms of a man distraught from his loss, considering yourself his true love.

Leon walks on the edge, but now the feeling that a thin rope can throw him into the abyss, from where there is no return, feels more acute. If only Hunnigan's helicopter had arrived, but intuition suggested that the delay was caused not just by technical circumstances.

"Do you think you injected her with a virus and she will start to adore you? You gave her the power to smear you like a bug on the wall as soon as she wakes up." He does not know the properties of this virus and what abilities it can give, but experience suggests that minor adjustments in appearance and lack of pigment like albinos are not the whole potential obtained.

"You've dealt with many terrorists, but I'm not one of them, Mr. Kennedy," still pretending to politely hide his hatred for some American sharing a bed with his woman, whom he considered his own, Emerick retorts: "I don't want to turn people into monsters, although I don't want the world to be on fire, but sometimes you have to make sacrifices. This virus was tested on many before my trusted person injected it to her, and before using it, I tested it on many."

Leon clenches his teeth, glaring at Emerick, letting him finish. Truly, big money creates lawlessness.

"As I said, everything is for love"

But there is no love here. Just an obsession.

Emerick no longer intends to continue the conversation, sits back down in his seat in the helicopter next to the cryocapsule, again signaling his people to get rid of the last witness, besides, he no longer intends to dirty his hands, especially about someone like Kennedy. Although he may still have the desire to end Leon on his own, but looking back at the capsule, his lips are touched with a mocking smile. The project must be completed, and the finishing touches are always needed so that the creator can enjoy his creation.

"But so be it, I'll leave her memories of you. The most bitter and unhappy, she will remember you and be glad that I saved her from you. See, I can be generous even to those who don't deserve it."

"I will refuse your generosity."

The situation was turning into complete shit. Emerick probably hoped to clean up all traces of himself, which is why he left the mercenaries to clean up after him, while he himself rose into the air with a last contemptuous glance at Leon.

"I'll find you, you son of a bitch."

He'll find him and kill and then bring you back.

Fortunately, sometimes Leon has a guardian angel with a smoke bomb behind his back, covering him with shots from a crossbow bolt while Leon quickly pulls out his spare pistol, getting rid of the last two mercenaries. A familiar style and a familiar fragrance when the haze clears allowing you to see the savior in the flesh in his unchanging red outfit and Leon would even smile at her if the plane with you did not move away from him every second. Ada is the red queen of today who postponed the execution of her former lover, smiling at him gently and a little cunningly wondering how fate brings them together and separates their paths from time to time. Leon does not thank out loud, but words of gratitude to this woman who clearly spent her personal time on him still freeze in the air.

She looks at the remains of the cocoon, clutching the crossbow tighter, roughly imagining what could have happened, seeing Kennedy's wet eyelashes, although the rain could have been to blame for everything, which fortunately had already calmed down, as well as the noise outside, although occasionally groans and shots were heard in the distance. Today, her calculated accuracy saved him again.

 "Long time no see, Leon" The velvety voice sounds soothing, but a little tired. In any case, Leon definitely owed her more than double the fare for his rescue.

A princess must have a knight in love to protect her from evil. In fairy tales, a kiss of love usually solves all problems, but what if the princess herself does not remember losing herself in the memories of her own and others? A suppressed personality cries out from the depths, not wanting to be forgotten, fighting with the one who took the pedestal and two names… two girls cannot merge into one, causing you only panic attacks and uncontrolled aggression, forcing the creator to believe that he is not so skilled even if he was filled with desire and endowed with money.

A charming man who calls himself your husband bends over her, holding out his hand decorated with antique rings to you, and you look at her with a puzzled look, pressing your back against the wall, trying to create distance between you. Because no matter how hard they tried to suppress your personality, but the feeling of uncontrollable fear, fused together with a new body, did not leave you, so you did not believe. Neither to him, nor to himself, nor to anyone else, and the dagger in the white palm hidden behind your back does not seem so heavy. The reaction is faster, the senses are heightened, and although the virus does not give the princess strength, you still resist, wounding your "husband", allowing scarlet drops of blood to bloom like roses on a white dress that has merged with the color of your skin.

Contrary to that, you have not become perfect, but you are still a passionate obsession for two men: one with pure thoughts and the other with a mad desire that has been tormenting him for a long time. It's hard to escape from the mansion, but thanks to heightened senses, it no longer seems impossible. However, it is even harder to ignore your true self, which screams and tears your head apart, as well as to separate two personalities from yourself.

You're confused. Not in luxurious rooms and corridors, but in yourself.

Something screams from the inside telling you to run away from here, and then it calms you that this place is your home, you know every corner here, every crack on the vase, these outfits in a separate dressing room tailored specifically for you, everything is familiar and at the same time alien. Your husband said that he saved you from a bastard named Leon, and after saying this name, the image of a blond man with beautiful blue eyes immediately stands in your eyes, but your heart overflows with rage, forcing you to tighten your grip on the dagger hilt.

You still have at least one sincere emotion, as you thought, however...

Leon is intently examining the analysis result from the remains of the cocoon that was sent to him. It really was what he was thinking, but Ada had already revealed a little secret to him.

"Maybe years will pass, and her real personality will somehow begin to manifest itself. I still don't know how Simmons fixed Carla's memory."

Leon puts the phone back in his pocket, looking at Ada with a slightly offended look, although she knows that he holds a grudge only against himself.

"But she's an exact copy of you," Leon reminded her, saying that when you pulled out of the cocoon, your face remained almost the same, yes, the features changed a little, but it was still you.

"But it will explain your new friend's obsession with your girlfriend," she chuckled, teasing him kindly, "If she looks so much like his dead wifey, then why would he change her appearance when they are almost identical to each other."

"And if it was an extreme measure, as he said... " Leon continues, scolding himself even more.

"You provoked him to infect her yourself. If he was hitting on her and she turned him down because of you, then it makes sense. Maybe if your girlfriend had been more mercantile and greedy for money, everything would have been without the virus."

However, was it Leon's fault or yours? Ada didn't blame anyone.

Leon may never guess at the ulterior motives, which may not have existed at all, but who else but she helped him again, however, leaving all the dirty work to Leon himself. After all, you were his concern, not hers. Although she followed you and your strange behavior a little, she finally sent him the coordinates of the place and your photo.

"I wish I could say that she remembered everything, but it seems that the virus did not affect her the way it was originally intended. Be careful, your beloved is a little aggressive."

Is it a consequence of the virus, or do you still remember who you are? Leon wants to believe in the latter when he collects equipment for the road, no longer hoping for anyone's help. But your new house looks more like one big clever trap and all the working staff have disappeared somewhere. In Leon's opinion, there should be more than one butler here, but there were no corpses either. Holding a gun at the ready, it was essentially a trespass on private property, but in the report he would later indicate that he was getting evidence. It won't be easy to find you, although you might make a little noise to attract his attention.

And you? You are sitting in a silent garden in the sweet scent of roses, standing out against the background of bright colors as a white spot, listening to the noise of the fountain, which still somehow calms you down after the last scuffle with your spouse. Alone, barefoot, you walk along a stone path, fingering strands of hair between your fingers, trying to compare in your head incomprehensible pictures from the past of two different people. You cannot love that person, for some reason you are afraid and angry at him despite his care. He took the knife away from you, letting you wander around the house like a ghost humming an annoying melody from his own past to himself, letting Emerick hope that manipulation and time will do their job. You hate Kennedy and that's been enough.

The support group is ready, but Leon still prefers to pick you up and then let the guys from the alliance work, having their own personal accounts in this matter. This could be the easiest capture of a terrorist in all his professional experience, but when his presence becomes known, the situation becomes complicated in the form of additional traps equipped with deadly devices and gas for which the anti-C vaccine is useless. In the end, Leon remains even without light and the flashlight does not save well. He looks into every room in an attempt to find at least some hint of your stay here after almost six months of absence.

And he finds in one of the inhabited rooms where only one bed occupies a quarter of the space. There is a beautiful comb with precious stones with traces of white hair on the dressing table, and Leon, picking up the jewelry, is sure that you are here somewhere, just like he is wandering among the dark corridors, although he really regrets that he did not find you in this room. However, another thought comes to his head when a thin lace pale pink negligee lying on the back of the sofa catches his eye… you only walked around in such things with him alone, and clutching the fabric in his hands, Leon can't help but think that Emerick slept with you in this bed.

The funny thing is that he's ready to forgive you everything now. He won't even remember that another man touched you afterwards because you're a victim and Leon, even if you don't remember him, wants you to at least return to a relatively normal life.

But the silence is suddenly cut short when a creak is heard behind, barely perceptible to the ear. A secret door? He does not turn around, freezing in one position, continuing to hold your negligee in his hands, feeling someone's sharp gaze on his back, but out of the corner of his eye catches a familiar silhouette, in the darkness of which two red eyes are burning.

You.

Leon tenses up. The sound of the blade breaks the silence, and your light tread turns into a sharp jerk as you rush at him with a sharp hairpin, hoping to plunge it deeper into his back. Your reaction may have improved, but Leon's reflexes are still faster, Kennedy dodges to the side, which causes you to fall directly onto your dressing table, knocking it over with you, forcing him to open his eyes in amazement.

"No, no, no, you couldn't turn into a monster," a thought runs through Leon's head.

The mirror breaks into many pieces and dig into your skin, causing the blood to contrast brightly on the light skin, which seems almost an unnatural sight. But through the pain, you hiss again trying to pounce on him, which causes Leon to fall on his back, rather out of surprise, managing to intercept your hand that aimed the clip directly at his eye. Pushing you away is not too big a problem, but the point is that you will still continue to throw at him and he does not want to use weapons at all.

"Bastard!" you growl, "Don't you like being hit back?"

"Stop, it's me!" he shouted, still holding your wrist so that you couldn't hurt him.

It was as if you hadn't heard. Leon pushed you away a little, hoping that being farther away would allow you to get to know him better, but what he didn't expect was for you to lash out at him over and over again, and honestly, if it were up to him, he would have removed the threat quickly, but it's hard to hurt someone you love. He'd had to kill Marvin and the President in the past, that in itself still weighs on his soul, but if he had to kill you… Deborah was easier. She was Helena's sister, not his, so his hand didn't shake when he pulled the trigger of the shotgun, but you're different. You're impossible to shoot at.

"Stop it!" he begs twisting your wrist so that you scream in pain and that scream tears his soul causing a lump in his throat. "It's not you! I beg yoy don't make me hurt you."

He doesn't even want to think about the estate being so deserted because of you. Leon still thinks it's just a virus, and somewhere inside you remember his, you just need to trigger it somehow. Ada said the virus affects you differently than it does Carla, but she didn't mention that you're aggressive to anyone who tries to touch you. Leon keeps his guard up, but despite your tight grip, you've apparently acquired some sort of ability that allowed you to break free and run down the hallway. He's not sure if you can throw people against the wall like baseballs, but your regeneration is enviable, because the only reminder of the wounds from the broken mirror on your body are drops of blood.

No abrasions.

So, after a little scuffle, as a result of which the antique dressing table is smashed to pieces along with all the bottles standing on it, Leon gets to his feet trying to figure out what the hell just happened. However, your trail has already disappeared. The house is huge, but despite this, Leon still puts the safety on the gun, afraid to instinctively shoot you if you attack him again. In hand-to-hand combat, you have little chance, but his reflexes can work faster than his brain. But abrasions and wounds a couple of centimeters deep, your body is able to regenerate itself. So cold steel will be the best thing, in case he meets other inhabitants of the estate besides you.

As already mentioned, the flashlight did not save the situation too much, of course, fanatics worked in some places, especially in the garden, but Leon did not find anything except small supplies, although his gut instinct encouraged him to pick up a gun to feel confident. But in the backyard, after several hours of searching among the marble statues and the damp fresh air that hit in the face, somewhere among the bushes in which some cautious movement is heard. It's like a wild cat sneaking up to its prey and Leon realizes - you're here!

Behind him again, so Leon straightens up. If it were daytime or even evening, he would have no problem finding you, but there is a starry night overhead. Rage is growing somewhere between your ribs, inside, but everything is different for him, because despite the internal contradiction, Leon is to some extent convinced that it is useless to fight with you.

There is nothing in his chest but regret and delayed words that he rarely said.

And yet at some point you look at each other continuously. You notice that he has only one knife in his hands, just like you, although Leon hides it back in the case, taking two small steps back trying to talk again. White hair is blown away by the wind and it annoys you that there is no elastic band or barrette to put it in a bun or tail. There doesn't seem to be anything in this damn house for your comfort!

The most painful thing is the way you look at him, but Leon still grins hiding his pain behind an inappropriate joke, standing in a fighting stance preparing to deflect blows.

"Well, I'm not against role-playing games, I really liked it when you were my bunny last time."

It's confusing or rather discouraging that it stops you for a few seconds and Leon uses this time to take the knife away from you, but you dodge so deftly and still more scared, almost dropping the knife to the ground.

"Come on, drop it, sweetheart" Leon asks, taking a step towards you, then you, on the contrary, retreat trying to find your advantage. "You know I'm not the one who's going to hurt you. I'll take you home."

"fucking dog," you growl in response, seeing how he swallows the insult, "Do you think I'll go with the one who made me like this?!"

Your voice is almost hoarse with hate. At the same time, Leon's face takes on a painful appearance, as if he was hit from the inside in the most painful place. That's what that son of a bitch told you! Okay, you can scold him with the most vile words, most of which he'll really be surprised that you even know, but... No buts!

"See?! I'm not afraid of you anymore! "

"You've never been afraid of me."

"You loved me, and I still love you," he wants to say, but the words are stuck in his throat. And after all, somewhere in the whirlpool of memories, these frames sometimes pop up in your head. Not the Stotholm syndrome...

You weren't afraid of him, but of the other one... the man who is your husband calls you by a different name, although Leon calls you by a completely different one, and what you hear from the agent seems much more familiar, more correct and more familiar.

"Baby, I don't want to hurt you! If I wanted to, I would have shot long ago, right? "

"I'm not your baby!" you're snarling, and your red eyes are burning even brighter in the dark.

Bad word.

Leon wants to bite his tongue. He still doesn't know about all the properties of your mutation, but he hopes that now you won't have claws behind your back, God bless him who left him many years ago, but it seems you don't have anything like that. Although when you attack him in a fit of anger, Leon really hurts like hell, which makes him even clench his teeth trying to hold back a moan of pain.

Probably, with strong malice, the power also somehow increases... A lot of times, because it looks like you broke his rib.

"Yeah, you never liked that word, but at least you didn't rush at me with a knife before," Leon still jokes, realizing that talking clearly won't help here. He doesn't want to use force, but it seems that there is no choice. He agrees that you may never love him more, but he won't leave you here either.

It is not even necessary to move to radical measures. Your head is bursting with pain again, causing tears to flow from your eyes and everything inside screams with fear, making you want to cower into a ball. Therefore, Leon does not expect you to bend at the knees and cry and start running away from him, just as you ran, according to Ada, all over the estate from Emerick. The wind licks wet tracks from your cheeks, scratching your skin when you run along the garden path, running out into a small open space before freezing in a frenzy, pressing your palms to your chest, as they did in a previous life, before mutation, when you were worried.

Cocoons.

A nightmare come true. Your heart was pounding and forehead was covered with sticky sweat, as were your palms from which the knife slipped.

"It's scary..." an inner voice echoes. You hear Leon running up to you and stopping too, looking at something he hoped to forget someday. Tears involuntarily flow down your cheeks, as if the real you are making your way, pushing someone else's personality into the background. Fire, pain, fear, a dart... This hellish pain that turns people into monsters, you haven't seen the staff, the estates, but now you understand what happened. Just like a divine epiphany.

Maybe it's just one of the reactions. Leon remembered from his own experience that not all individuals hatched from cocoons, but this was a huge rarity, and here as many as twenty if not more, however, this was the trigger. You remembered something.

The wet paths glowed in the light of the moon on your cheeks. If the situation had been different, Leon would have immediately tried to console you, but it seems that this could have become another stupid idea, on the other hand, your stupor could have been turned into a plus and they could have simply picked you up, put you in a helicopter and then calmly dealt with this crap. A tempting thought, of course, but... Something like a phantom pain... a feeling as if the whole body was burning again and being reshaped under high temperatures. Even the same hellish headache that sends a painful pulsation into the eyes. You were again struck by a short flash of memories, how someone’s strong hands held and stroked you while your body was changing and it definitely wasn’t your husband... his hands are icy, and his voice is dry, devoid of emotion... Maybe..

"Аt least it's clear where everyone has gone," a voice sounded from behind. It was getting harder to breathe and the world was spinning wildly in front of your eyes, so an inner voice told you to find where to land or your head was at risk of injury. This is not the first attack, but the most severe in the last few months. Anyway, your vague consciousness leaves you for a while, turning off, allowing you to get lost in fragmentary memories, but Leon's hands manage to catch you in time, carefully laying you on the grass.

Leon checked your pulse, the main thing is that your heart was beating and your chest was heaving smoothly. Apparently, it was an ordinary fainting fit against the background of a spectacle that caused you psychological trauma. He picked up your knife with which you tried to stab him a couple of minutes ago, was ready to take you away from this place as he had hoped earlier. Those guys who were still alive from his group proved that Emerick was not in the estate, but Leon did not believe.

And it's good that I didn't believe it. Leon didn't believe in miracles at all.

Well, right now he was definitely aiming to just pick you up before you regained consciousness, because trying to explain where the truth is and where the lie is clearly not the best idea. Calling a helicopter for evacuation and picking you up in his arms, hugging you closer to him, Leon quickly jumped up but heard a painfully familiar click to his right, which froze him in place.

“In the past, hands were cut off for theft, but I’ll assume that a colossal imbecile like you doesn’t know that.”

Leon grunts as he turns around. A tactical vest will protect his back and chest, but his head remains open for a shot.

"Then you should have been walking without hands for a long time," Leon retorts, putting you on a bench while delaying your rescue. "Looks like you didn't run away after all."

"I don't like unwanted guests, because of you, my wife and I will have to move to another place. It's a pity, she liked this garden."

"She's. Not. Your. Wife." Leon almost hisses, reaching for his gun, but jumps aside after a burst of three shots that were meant for him. "Bastard"

"I was informed that they did not get rid of you and I assumed that you would look for me at least out of a sense of duty to the country you work for, but please note that there are bigger fish in the sea. You seem to have a weakness for women with Asian features, so maybe you'll focus on your own preferences and not mess with my wife, whom, as I told you earlier, you just don't deserve. You have no idea what a valuable diamond she is, a nugget! One in a million!

Oh, this conceit! His measured and calm tone is annoying, Leon tries to suppress his anger at the fact that the bastard dug up information on him somewhere, but his attachment to Ada is in the past, although they still care about each other in some sense, but now there is you. And you are you, not the woman that Emerick considers his wife. Leon hides behind one of the cocoons and the bullets hit the non-dense flesh, after which a kind of ugly embryo that was once an ordinary person falls to the ground, forcing him to quickly take a better position behind the statue of the goddess Aphrodite.

"You've been living a lie for so long that you've come to believe it yourself!"

"Oh, sure, you know better!" sarcastic laughter makes anger boil from the inside, but Leon looks out of hiding just to look at you and make sure you're still where he left you. "We past even though we always knew that we were made for each other, and only by chance and then you got in my way! "

"I would have felt sorry for you if in your grief you hadn't tried to make an innocent girl into a copy of your dead wife and killed a lot of people in the process."

Leon pulled the safety off the gun. Now the main thing is not to catch a stray bullet and hope that this bastard does not turn into a giant mutated creature, because apart from four spare clips and another pistol, he has nothing and the space is not spacious enough to maneuver, besides, you could also get hurt. He has already forgotten that you can regenerate wounds, but nevertheless, there is no time to find out what is your Achilles heel yet.

"All for the sake of love"

"This is not love"

Leon pulled the trigger but Emerick dodged. There was a smell of gunpowder and something sickeningly acrid in the air, as if something had died somewhere and even the scent of flowers could not completely drown out this smell. You opened your eyes, but your head still continued to spin and the sharp noise of the vystreds only mocked your brain, forcing you to involuntarily pull up your arms and clap your ears with your palms, just like... Like when you were protected from zombies in a museum"

It wanted to hide, curled in a dark corner and not get out until everything resolves itself, although life knows how to throw surprises. You hear someone else's conversation, you hear how the one who came for you says that your husband is a sick cretin who considers it normal to infect people to make a copy of a dead person out of them, whereas he explains his reasons only with grief. The puzzle is not fully assembled and there are still many white spots in your memory, but some fragments have connected to each other despite the fact that you still do not understand who you are.

This shootout will continue for some time, and unnoticed by these two, you will slowly slide off the bench and see Leon and Emerick engage in hand-to-hand combat after they ran out of bullets. It is noteworthy that after losing your knife in battle, which is now proudly stuck in a tree post, he used his own, which he did not plan to part with, but since they are busy with each other, you calmly grabbed the handle and pulled out the blade, looking at your own reflection of scarlet eyes in steel.

You don't love any of them and you don't want to choose someone's side at all, but you also don't want to be tied to someone who actually infected you, having put so much effort into driving you crazy. You need to make a choice, and whether it will be right, only time will decide. Two people are fighting for one woman, although it looks like you are not a princess in trouble at all, and as Ada said, despite the effect of the virus, the real personality will still take everything back under his control, but the old life will never be. All dreams burned down along with that body, so you're also quite sincerely stabbing the family knife into Emerick's back.

The princess does not need a knight to kill the dragon, because she herself is able to stab him when he does not expect it. This is the simplest from the point of view of Leon's combat missions, but at the same time the most difficult. A scarlet stain spreads on the snow-white suit, but that's all. Emerick had not infected himself with anything, although his fate could not be called terrible. It was all for love, and he died at the hands of that love. A stupid death, which is even insulting, but not for you. And walking with you to the helicopter in the living room above the fireplace, Leon really understands why such an obsession arose...

You really look like the smiling girl in the portrait like two drops of water.

He was told that rehabilitation would take a long time, possibly years. You never spoke to him, you didn't even say a word, but you didn't attack him either. You just withdrew into yourself, allowing the doctors to conduct tests and identify whether you are ready to mutate into other stages when you receive any damage, but I was glad that you did not. In their opinion, all your physical data remained at the same level before infection, although perhaps you just deceived everyone well just so that they would leave you behind and not make you an experimental rat, allowing them to drain blood from you, but this allowed Rebecca's team to make a new improved vaccine. A dubious achievement for Leon, given the fact that you persistently ignore him.

He brings clothes, books, even begged for a TV for you to let you kill time and still nothing. You didn't even turn it on until the moment when, with fighting and shouting and after a bunch of official papers, Leon was finally allowed to take you home. They said that you don't have any regeneration and your injuries heal like on any other person, you don't rush at people in attempts to devour them, sometimes you still talk for more than five minutes a day (but not with Leon) and you don't have any unusual abilities. Nothing that would be of interest to the bigwigs of the government. You'd think that you'd literally become a black sheep, people would just start mistaking you for an albino, which is basically true now.

It's good when you can control some of your body's processes. This eliminates a lot of problems. At home, you curiously look at all these little things from your past life, thinking about what it was like to share this apartment with Leon, you look at the bed in which you must have slept with him, and it seems incredibly comfortable, although right now sleeping with Leon causes rejection. He does not climb into your personal space, no longer clings like a puppy, although he whines in the corner from the lost affection of a loved one. He gave you the bed, but he sleeps on the couch, brings breakfast and after a couple of months you get in touch.

It took Jill Valentine several years before she returned to the barn. Chris is so comforting, telling him that everything is still fine, but if necessary, he will let you go. One way or another, of course, he will check if everything is okay with you, but he will let you go if you still do not accept him back into your heart. Leon believes that therapy will help and you will remember your real self by separating the grain from the chaff. You don't have to love him again, although he will be happy if you ask him to stay by your side on a stormy night, hugging you after a nightmare. Then he will wrap you warmly in a blanket and press your face to his chest, gently stroking your back and comforting you with words.

Therapy will help and one day everything will be fine again. Kissing the top of your head, Leon wants to believe it as much as you do. At least you're willing to try.

[magpie-trove]

Our beloved Cinderella 2015 was in part striking because it possessed moral substance, and I think Snow White 2025 is a counterpart in that! If Cinderella 2015 is about staying good, Snow White 2025 is about *growing* good.

I need very little to convince any one of this, as the very first song is a song called Good Things Grow. What’s interesting is the moral framework it sets up: the flourishing of the land is directly connected to the flourishing of the people’s moral character, which is in turn connected to Snow White’s ability to be a leader by being good and helping both her people and her land grow in goodness. This is not a prosperity gospel set up where if you are good enough you get everything you want, though. It’s human flourishing because everyone being fair and kind means when you are hungry the baker is someone who will give you bread because you are hungry and he’s learned to be kind. The king and queen emphasize to young Snow White that she is destined to lead the land and because of that she must look at herself and decide what she will become for them. She must be brave and true and fair and kind, because such a leader will lead people to be brave and true and fair and kind, and that will mean a society where people will help each other and share the good of the land, and sharing the good will, they insist, ultimately only increase it.

Throughout the narrative the days of Snow White’s parents’ rule is harkened back to as a time of abundance, but that abundance is not just connected to material goods. The “prince” character, Jonathan, remembers it as a time where people were better, not just because they had good things, but because her parents weren’t afraid of anything—they always did the good thing—and the good thing made other people able to do the good thing, and a society where everyone is striving to do the good thing is going to be a good one. But again, this is not a prosperity gospel. The good thing isn’t something that will last forever.

Snow White’s parents die. Her mother falls to illness. Her father is duped by the Queen. The Queen then offers what she insists everyone needs—something more stable, something secure, something like diamonds compared to a flower. This is something that can’t die because it is something that possesses itself and fights to keep what good things it has instead of giving them away. Notably, for the Queen, it is about good *things*, not good people. Not goodness ultimately. And more notably, it leaves everything cold and hard and dead. The kingdom doesn’t flourish. It decays. There is scarcity, and it’s because no one will remedy it by sharing what they have.

Snow White is now faced with the dilemma of growing into what she should be in an atmosphere of moral decay and corruption. It’s a difficult struggle, and actually her primary one throughout the film. She has an ideal, she has strong guiding principles, but she has to find the strength of character to make them real in a world that presupposes that they are unrealistic. In fact, the Queen has created a kingdom convinced it needs an army to be safe because they have forgotten what it was like simply to look out for each other. They believe in a world where one simply has to look out for oneself, even at the expense of others, because no one else will.

Jonathan epitomizes this most clearly. His is what he believes is a practical philosophy: you look out for yourself so you don’t end up dead. You morally compromise in order to survive. He has a whole song where he makes fun of Snow White’s “Princess problems”—which comes from ideals he says the rest of the people can’t afford to have if they are going to survive. Living by ideals only means, he says, you won’t live long. They are unsuited to the reality of the world, which is that things aren’t fair. Snow White counters this by suggesting that if no one acts fairly, then of course things won’t be fair. Someone has to take the risk of being fair and merciful and kind first, to show others the way.

This philosophical clash comes to a head in a conversation between Jonathan’s band of thieves and the dwarves. Jonathan needs help, and the dwarves don’t want to help them because it will only bring trouble, and the thieves don’t trust them to help anyways. Snow White has to step in and she berates them both, saying this selfishness based on mistrust is exactly how the Queen wins. By getting them to act in kindness despite the risk, to hope for kindness just enough to actually be able to receive it, she sets in motion the goodness that will save her and the kingdom in the end.

Because Snow White will still need saving. Jonathan is not entirely wrong to fear doing the right thing will get him killed. He says Snow White’s idealism and trust in people will only mean she winds up dead, and she does! It is an unpractical philosophy in material terms. And yet it is the only one worth believing, and the only thing that in the end, saves her when death does arrive. Her idealism has a cost, but it also is the way to mitigate the cost. Her goodness to others means others will be good to her—it comes back around and she both pays the cost and is saved from it. Love exists to save her because she planted it and helped it grow!

And that means she can help it grow in herself enough to lead. Not being alone gives her strength to make the hard choices, to become someone who not just believes in courage and fairness and kindness but can bring them into the world and share them with others by embodying them herself. And what’s so unique about the climax here is that the Queen isn’t defeated through ordinary power. She loses because in the end her practical stability built on practical mistrust and fear, which is really just self obsession, turns out not to be so strong and stable after all. She crumbles in the face of Snow White, who instead of looking out for herself, looks at other people. She remembers their names. She calls them back to the goodness inherent in their potential, and so back into themselves, who they really are meant to be! And the remembering of real goodness starts to create a desire for it, and the desire leads them to act in such a way it can become a reality. The kingdom flourishes again when the people flourish as people, not as a reward but as an outcome, because love means looking out for each other, and while it doesn’t mean no hardships will come, it does mean that when the hardships arrive, even if the hardship be death itself, they will be survivable. On the surface it seems unrealistic—but in actuality, the film says, kindness, fairness, love, are the only truly practical way to live.

[2346khith]

Hello dear friend,

I’m Noha from Gaza, Mother of martyr and wife of martyr .

17 people of My family was forcibly displaced from their homes to the southern Gaza Strip, and they now live in samall tent , The occupation completely destroyed our house and our business and we no longer have anything that we used to own.

MY mother suffers from joint pain and back cartilage pain. Also, she had surgery before the war to remove a tumor in the intestine 💔!!️ and she needs to continue her treatment.

As for my middle brother, Darwish,He has a family of 10 people, he is paralyzed in his right leg, he suffers from severe leg pain.  Two months before the war, he had surgery in Egypt to implant a joint in his leg, and he was supposed to return to Egypt to continue his treatment, but the war prevented him from doing so, so he urgently needs to go to Egypt to continue his treatment.

As for me, I lost my small and beautiful family in the 2014 war, which consists of my husband and my only child, whom I gave birth to after 7 years of deadly waiting and a very long and expensive treatment journey. He was only two and a half years old. I lost him and did not hug him enough to forget the agony of waiting for him to come. I also suffered injuries, which resulted in several operations on my right leg and other parts of my body, the effects of which I still suffer to this day. So, I don't want to experience what it's like to lose someone I love again. It's a very painful feeling. Please save my family.

Life here is unbearable, especially tent life is very difficult, and the situation is getting worse every day.

I urge you to support us to save our lives, Your support is our only hope for survival after losing everything.

We hope you will continue to support us by donating or sharing to help save and rebuild our lives. Every contribution matters, much appreciated

Many thanks to everyone who supported us.https://gofund.me/b5922332

For those who see this please, visit their blog and reblog their blog’s posts so they  get more attention and if you have the money to spare please donate.

Also I apologize, but I do not have the ability to donate to you. Trust me if I had the ability I would but I don't and I can't. I have no bank account or credit card to transfer money to and no job to gain any money. Every time I ask my parents to help they shut me down so this is the only way to help you. Please forgive me.

[obsessivefanficwriter]

Jax Created The Circus

hear me out, I know it's a stretch, but, I really wanna talk about these two scenes over here.

The first one being the number on the plaque of the car. Jax.001. Everything put on the cartoons are thought about and they have intent. I mean, sure, some creators can just put some random number and call it a day and whenever someone points it out they can say that it was all intentional. But, somehow, I don't think that's the case over here.

This whole scene made a point to showcase the feeling of finishing a "honest hardworking day" in a job. And as much as Jax didn't like sticking around and he definitely didn't want to stay until the end of the day, he waited until the end of the day. He stuck around the clock and watched it as he waited for the time.

Now, why would he do that? Is it a character trait, like honesty? Or was he trying to make a point?

In this episode, he was a bit different in comparison to the other episodes. Even his voice was a deeper tone and he was definitely not trying. His voice from the beginning of the episode and during the episode was different.

I believe that this is him trying to move through his arc. In the earlier episodes, he was constantly antagonizing the other characters, making jokes at the expense of Pomni, Gangle, Zooble and Ragatha. When he tried to make Pomni make a joke about Kinger, Pomni said something that made him decide not to continue pestering her.

Even though, in this episode it was clear he didn't want to participate in an adventure that in his eyes was boring, he didn't antagonize the others. He could very well pester Ragatha that was acting pretty high, but he didn't.

To me, personally, it looked like he was trying to survive and when he got to the car, it was a reminder for him.

Now, another thing that made me think that maybe Jax is involved with creating the Digital Circus is this scene:

"Caine's not gonna do anything malicious. It's not in his nature"

There's a couple of reasons he would say something like this.

He truly believes that Caine is not malicious, probably because he's been there the longest, so he feels like he knows who Caine truly is.

(my personal theory) He was somehow involved in the making of Caine and the Digital Circus in the past. He even smirks in the end of the sentence, as if he knows something that nobody else knows.

Now, does my theory have something to stand on? If you look at the other episodes with this in mind, you can find a couple of phrases that can support this theory.

"I'm fine with doing whatever. As long as I get to see funny things happen to people"

The fact that he has keys to everyone's room.

If something else happens to come back to mind, I'll repost this. If not, then, this is it. It's just a theory.

[angryandloud]

Hello dear friend,

I’m Noha from Gaza, Mother of martyr and wife of martyr .

17 people of My family was forcibly displaced from their homes to the southern Gaza Strip, and they now live in samall tent , The occupation completely destroyed our house and our business and we no longer have anything that we used to own.

MY mother suffers from joint pain and back cartilage pain. Also, she had surgery before the war to remove a tumor in the intestine 💔!!️ and she needs to continue her treatment.

As for my middle brother, Darwish,He has a family of 10 people, he is paralyzed in his right leg, he suffers from severe leg pain.  Two months before the war, he had surgery in Egypt to implant a joint in his leg, and he was supposed to return to Egypt to continue his treatment, but the war prevented him from doing so, so he urgently needs to go to Egypt to continue his treatment.

As for me, I lost my small and beautiful family in the 2014 war, which consists of my husband and my only child, whom I gave birth to after 7 years of deadly waiting and a very long and expensive treatment journey. He was only two and a half years old. I lost him and did not hug him enough to forget the agony of waiting for him to come. I also suffered injuries, which resulted in several operations on my right leg and other parts of my body, the effects of which I still suffer to this day. So, I don't want to experience what it's like to lose someone I love again. It's a very painful feeling. Please save my family.

Life here is unbearable, especially tent life is very difficult, and the situation is getting worse every day.

I urge you to support us to save our lives, Your support is our only hope for survival after losing everything.

We hope you will continue to support us by donating or sharing to help save and rebuild our lives. Every contribution matters, much appreciated

Many thanks to everyone who supported us.https://gofund.me/b5922332

Stop and listen!!

These family has reached 86% of their goal! You can help them reach it in time for the holidays!!

[potionwine]

Asks that say a lot: 59 and 61 please? 💜

HELLO FRIEND <3

Thank you for asking/playing, apologies for taking so long to reply, I picked up a copy of Sunrise on the Reaping and spent the entire weekend reading it while drinking gallons of tea, and naturally fell into a deep post-book catatonia. I need 2 business weeks to recover in bed, I shouldn't have to go back to work in this state lol

59: if you were a video game character, what would your catchphrase be?

"Only eat, no cook." I haaaate cooking. I can do it, I just hate it. Australia's too expensive to be eating out all the time, so practically everyone cooks to some degree of skill—decent enough to feed ourselves. There are countries and cities where it is possible to survive by eating out all the time, but not Australian cities. (For example, it is possible to get an entire delicious, plump roll of gimbap in Seoul for like ₩4,500 Korean won=approx AUD$5-6, but a similar roll of gimbap in Melbourne/Sydney is about $15.) So. I can cook—not well; simple edible fare, but I just hate this activity. Cooking is just. Ugh. The sheer amount of time. The grocery shopping, the meal planning, the cutting and chopping, the smells (they linger and they infect everything), the effort, the heat, the unmatched tragedy of failed cooking/ruined and wasted food? Ugh. Ugh ugh ugh! Unfortunately, I love eating. Food is right up there on the list of life's pleasures. So this is a significant problem in my life. HAHAHA. I basically always tell my family and friends and colleagues that I only eat, no cook. It makes them groan every time (but it also means they often give me food or leftovers, and I always accept food without shame!) Nobody asked but I feel slightly defensive so please allow me to add that what I bring to the table (heh) is cleaning. Alongside "only eat no cook", I frequently joke about needing to find a partner who loves cooking because I can do all the cleaning. I enjoy cleaning. I like it, I'm good at it, I'm a stress cleaner so even when I'm unhappy, cleaning is happening in my house. Laundry is done like clockwork; I've never had clothes lying on the floor, ever, never had dirty piles of clothes anywhere except the laundry basket where it belongs. Never had freshly laundered clothes just dumped on the bed. I iron or steam my clothes and even bedsheets and towels and put them away promptly, and my bathroom/kitchen are pretty much immaculate. I've never left dishes in the sink overnight except maybe a lone cup or glass from a quick drink of water before bed. No sticky floors, no stained benchtops or tables. I basically dumped all my homemaking stats into cleaning and none into cooking, is what I'm saying.

61. favorite line you heard from a book/movie/tv show/etc.?

From a play that I have been told (repeatedly) is extremely me—that is to say, tediously, absurdly, long-windedly existentialist: Let us do something, while we have the chance! It is not every day that we are needed. Not indeed that we personally are needed. Others would meet the case equally well, if not better. To all mankind they were addressed, those cries for help still ringing in our ears! But at this place, at this moment of time, all mankind is us, whether we like it or not. —Act II, Waiting for Godot, by Samuel Beckett It was paradigm-shifting. It shook me completely the first time I heard it and time has not lessened its impact one whit. Self-doubt is my most constant and most deadly enemy, and this is my personal litany against the sort of thinking that goes "but anyone else could do it" with my brain treacherously adding self-destroying things like "and probably do it better than me". Others may do it equally well, if not better. We tell ourselves that all the time, see? BUT. But. Right here, right now, I am present. If someone falls down in front of me, I am the one who is here to help them up. If someone displays kindness in front of me, I am the person who is here to appreciate them. If someone makes a gift for me, I am the one who is able to tell them how wonderful they are. If someone cries where I can see them, that means I have the opportunity to try and comfort them. Even really frivolous things, such as: I wish there's a fic about [this] or I wish there were more art for [that], etc. There is no point ruminating over whether someone else deserves this promotion more or whether someone could do more justice to this fic idea or whether someone else could tackle some task with more expertise. Sure, maybe they could, there is no doubt that someone somewhere could do better. There is no point forecasting one's impact on the great big world to such an extent that one is dissuaded to act at all—whether that involves little acts of political resistance or small scale community outreaches or any number of things that contribute just that tiny bit more light and hope. Someone else might do it better, but I am here. So all mankind is me, and I am needed, I am the one who is needed because I am present. I can contribute because I am here—that naturally flows on to the empowering thought that if I want to contribute, I should.

Ask me: weird asks that say a lot

[the-pink-baphomet1861]

Hello dear friend,

I’m Noha from Gaza, Mother of martyr and wife of martyr .

17 people of My family was forcibly displaced from their homes to the southern Gaza Strip, and they now live in samall tent , The occupation completely destroyed our house and our business and we no longer have anything that we used to own.

MY mother suffers from joint pain and back cartilage pain. Also, she had surgery before the war to remove a tumor in the intestine 💔!!️ and she needs to continue her treatment.

As for my middle brother, Darwish,He has a family of 10 people, he is paralyzed in his right leg, he suffers from severe leg pain.  Two months before the war, he had surgery in Egypt to implant a joint in his leg, and he was supposed to return to Egypt to continue his treatment, but the war prevented him from doing so, so he urgently needs to go to Egypt to continue his treatment.

As for me, I lost my small and beautiful family in the 2014 war, which consists of my husband and my only child, whom I gave birth to after 7 years of deadly waiting and a very long and expensive treatment journey. He was only two and a half years old. I lost him and did not hug him enough to forget the agony of waiting for him to come. I also suffered injuries, which resulted in several operations on my right leg and other parts of my body, the effects of which I still suffer to this day. So, I don't want to experience what it's like to lose someone I love again. It's a very painful feeling. Please save my family.

Life here is unbearable, especially tent life is very difficult, and the situation is getting worse every day.

I urge you to support us to save our lives, Your support is our only hope for survival after losing everything.

We hope you will continue to support us by donating or sharing to help save and rebuild our lives. Every contribution matters, much appreciated

Many thanks to everyone who supported us.

Noha has lost so, so much under this time, and donating now could help prevent her from losing more. This fundraiser has been vetted and is a part of operation olive branch. So please donate to allow her and her remaining family to live in safety and reblog to share her story.

[schizophilus]

LITTLE LATE POST BUT TALIA FENRIR CONTENT RAAGGGH

Remember Hermia? Fenrir’s little sister?

Yeaaah she’s relevant today. (IM SO HAPPY TO TALK ABT HER AND FENRIR)

So Hermia is known to be Avidity’s (Fenrir’s clan) trump card, she’s one of the very few that can operate radios and understand signals. But with her gift in physics, she found it hard to communicate with others and pick up on what they want - usually ending in them getting angry or her breaking down because she gets frustrated easily. In a place like Talia, patience is expensive as survival comes first, Hermia’s find no place with the people.

She doesn’t speak, non-verbal most of the time and often communicates through little signs in her little communicator device she developed for herself. The rest of the clan members distanced themselves from her and was usually unwilling to work with her because she’s easily stressed and doesn’t talk.

Before, one person that can calm her which was Stella and it would take a lot of work to get her to shimmer down. So, she’s just… kept as a weapon in the clan and has her own corner to do her own things. Isolated because no one else could handle her and Stella was often busy, only coming when Bronte needed Hermia to do something.

Hermia likes to be held. It reminds her of her mother’s warmth, which was long gone. Never asked because she knew she won’t be heard - it’s not like she could speak either.

That won’t be the case when Fenrir came along. Fenrir was tasked with watching over the kids for Stella when he first joined the clan. With his people-pleasing attitude, he looked after everyone and made sure no one was left out, that included Hermia.

He noticed that Hermia was bigger than the other kids but acted roughly more childish - he knew that she was going to be the isolated one. So Fenrir, being Fenrir, wanting to build trust with the clan, asked for more daycare work and grew popular with the kids- and Hermia too. He was patient, unlike others, and Hermia could recognize that Fenrir is one of the very few that still treasured humanity.

Now, when Hermia would have her outbreaks, she’d just come to cuddle with Fenrir. He was the only one who was willing to listen to her cries and soothe her without getting annoyed - he needed that validation too.

Fenrir would use gentle words, words that Stella had used but no one else.

Gentle words said with gentleness. That’s the difference.

He would hug her and pat her head, telling her “it’s okay.” Softly And reassure her, sometimes humming a soft melody to soothe her, he knew she enjoyed music more than words when she calmed down.

hermia knew she was never valued much more than a savior to the clan, but now she knew she was valued as a person to Fenrir. That’s also a good point of Fenrir i’d like to point out, he’d see humanity in everything. He’d see the goods in the evil, even if there’s not he’ll gaslight himself into thinking there is lol

CW//injured - depiction of blood

Little warning for blooodddd

During the TB mission, cutscene when Fenrir was heavily injured - yk getting shot in the head is pretty serious and aventurine/kakavasha got his ass dragged away by the IPC

Hermia was absolutely horrified, she was like, 13, being in a war and watching the only person who saw her as Hermia and not Radio girl getting harmed like that bro she’s shitting her pants in panic and fear. All she knew to do when someone was “angry” or “wild” was what Fenrir taught her, hug them, pat there head and reassure them with the gentle words. She, instead of running over to the injured Fenrir, she ran and hugged the robot which was still loading and shooting.

She took a shot, Fenrir was too exhausted and passed out.

Despite all the pain, she spoke for the first time, it was the same comforting words that Fenrir would always say to calm her down. She was just hoping to ‘calm down’ the robot, despite knowing that it won’t be calmed down but she was too scared to think rationally. She was crying, she was experiencing her planet, her clan, her family getting wiped before her eyes again - right after she found comfort.

its ok her hug actually has her desert terminal detecting the robot as danger and jolted the shit out of everyone so robot deactivated, hermia fried, fenrir shot. (they’ll live)

—-

Hermia’s clothes are sewn by Fenrir, after learning of Sigonia’s patterns from Aventurine/Kakavasha, Fenrir started sewing it on her clothes for fun too. She does like the cool designs.

I havent got her a full outfit design yet but will be heavily based on these lol + COULD NOT FORGET VASHRIR DUMP TOO

These are little snippets for tmr… ehueheueueh short stry coming soon… :eye: :eye:

[tchaikovskym]

On the one hand, I think life on land is a waste of time. The adaptations we have are very complicated and expensive, only to survive the harsh environment: the UV rays, the wind, the flood, the temperature changes, and precipitation. The air really is not welcoming at all.

On the other hand, I think life on land is the best thing that has happened. Most water-based vertebrate life forms have more or less the same body structure because, well, it works in water. Everyone has fins there. Land vertebrates? Paws and claws, and nails and hands... snakes don't even have anything. And our hands! We wouldn't have hands underwater. They'd be bad for our swimming. I mean, look at what happened with whales and dolphins. Their little hands are fins now. Without hands, we wouldn't have the written language. Well, that's a bold statement, but you must see where it comes from. I think I'm aiming quite right with that.

I mean, even if we could find a way to write down something with fins and mouths and tails; how long would that writing remain intact? What material would it be? If it's a carving on a hard material, is it possible with no hands? Could a whale carve something? I'm thinking no.

And without written language, who are we? Our memory is not so great to pass down everything we've discovered. We wouldn't go anywhere if once in a few generations someone would have to rediscover electricity. New discoveries are based on the old ones; if we had no reliable record of them, we'd have to re-discover them again and again.

What I'm saying is that it's quite wasteful for life to go from the water with all the necessities to the harsh unwelcoming land. But we wouldn't have the computer otherwise.

[jaguarys]

Owen has heard many things about his brother in the time he’s known their mother. For someone he has never met, he knows quite a lot. He knows Ani’s supposed favorite foods, knows his habits, knows his fears, keeps secondhand secrets. When he was younger, he used to imagine the Ani from her stories returning home, the kind of adventures they would have running amongst the dunes. He used to wonder what it meant to be a Jedi, what magical abilities his brother had that made him special and whether that was good. He thought of a lonely boy star systems away and wondered if it was worth it. Back then, the worst thing he could think of was being separated from his family, and he wondered if it was worth it, to be able to explore the galaxy.

Even then, his dreams had never wandered further than the spaceport. Then again, he’d always been built for home. For Tatooine.

He doesn’t think Shmi’s stories about a bright-eyed, blond-haired child match much with the boy who climbs down from a ship more expensive than Owen himself.

He’s not sure exactly what he expected, but he knows it’s someone more… Tatooine.

Perhaps that’s an unfair thing to think. Owen certainly thinks, sometimes, that if he had the option to leave the planet behind, he would take it without a moment’s hesitation. He’s been thinking that a bit more, recently, in the days following their mother’s disappearance.

Ani looks every bit a Jedi, even if Owen is just about the last person who knows anything of anything about Jedi. He has something of an air around him, something that marks him different, as though he belongs somewhere other than Tatooine’s deserts. Like he’s been somehow superimposed on the sand, like he’s a hologram and isn’t truly here.

Ani doesn’t say much more than a word to him, and Owen realizes it’s horribly unfair to be judging anyone in circumstances such as these, but he can’t quite help it. It’s a terrible time for first impressions, and perhaps an even worse time to first meet his brother.

>>

There’s a sort of natural distaste all natives to Tatooine have towards outsiders. Tatooine is a cruel planet, a world that causes offworlders to want to avert their eyes. Owen is more than a little disconcerted to find himself searching for that tendency in his brother.

He finds himself releasing a breath he didn’t realize he was holding when it isn’t there.

And then it is.

Cliegg is a gruff man at the best of times, and Owen can tell Ani is tense with the energy it takes to hold back any number of Huttese swears.

Ani starts forward in anger at something he says, and the woman who came with him lays a hand on his shoulder in what could either be comfort or holding him back.

It’s then that Owen realizes, with a start, that he and his father and Beru had already accepted it. A sort of reckless anger had flared in Ani’s eyes, when Cliegg had said there was little chance Shmi would survive, but for all Owen could tell Ani had wanted to deny it, he had been right.

It had been too long. There was no hope.

Owen knows nothing of Jedi business, and thus he can’t tell if it’s Jedi magic that made Ani go after her anyway, or if Ani had forgotten the harshness that belonged to Tatooine.

Tatooine culture dictates that no one ever truly leaves. Born or dead on her surface, the planet claims everything and everyone that is not wanted.

There is very little, often, that her people have other than family. Owen wonders if Ani has forgotten that. If he has forgotten that he is one of Owen’s, one of the Lars’.

Owen wants to tell him not to go, but he knows grief, and he knows how that will be taken.

He says nothing at all, and is not surprised when his brother returns hours later with their mothers’ body.

>>

They’ll bury her come morning, but as per tradition he and Ani take vigil. Beru quietly pulls aside Padmé, and Owen is grateful. He’s not sure where Cliegg has disappeared to, but knows it’s not any of his business.

He and Ani settle along the wall outside their home, though he can tell the both of them are still tense with energy with nowhere to go. Anything they’d hoped for, any expectations they’d harbored, were over and done with.

He feels a little like an imaginary string within him has been snapped. As much as he had told himself he hadn’t expected any more than a death, there was a small, burning part of him that had expected, after everything their mother had endured, that she could endure this too.

Perhaps that’s a little cruel of him. Perhaps it isn’t.

Ani stares out across the wastes. His eyes look all at once empty and brimming with something clear and discordant that sets Owen on edge. He thinks of his mother’s stories from Ani’s childhood, and decides Jedi magic may not quite be fiction.

He twists open the flask and takes a sip, holding the water in his mouth, and passes it to Ani. Ani does the same, and after a few counts they each spit into the sand in front of them. The most valuable thing Tatooine’s people can offer is water, and Owen thinks their mother would have deserved a kriffing swimming pool, if it was what she had wanted. He wishes she were here to want it. He thinks of their mother’s smile and twinkling laughter and her wisdom and wishes her well, now more than ever.

He lets out a long, heavy sigh and leans back against the still-warm wall of their home. Ani sits straight and still beside him, still tense as ever. Still as tense as he’s been since he arrived. He looks like he hasn’t slept well in a while.

They sit in silence for who knows how long. And then it’s broken.

Ani tells him he knew their mother would die. He tells Owen of nightmares and marks he’d sworn had been marked on his own body and pain in his heart he knew was their mother’s, tells him he woke, night after night, living and living and living their mother’s suffering.

And he tells him he could’ve saved her.

It’s then that he realizes Ani isn’t soft with the naïvety of offworlders. He is cut from the same cloth as the rest of them.

He simply has the same hope as their mother.

Owen knows nothing of Jedi business. Knows nothing of magic and the “Force,” whatever it may be. But he knows of the desert’s rules.

And he knows, more than anything, that Ani will crumble. Maybe not today. Maybe not for years.

But it will come. Perhaps it already has. And the desert is cruel.

Owen does what their mother would have done. He pulls Ani close, sets Ani’s head on his shoulder, runs his hands through close-shorn hair.

He says nothing. He’s never been a man for words. But Tatooine’s people, more than anyone, know the kindness of gentle touch. And Ani is one of them. Will always be one of them.

>>

Ani and the woman who came with him do not stay long. Come morning, the group buries Shmi’s body outside the Lars homestead.

After the burial is complete, the two prepare to depart. Owen pulls Ani aside for just a moment, just long enough to swap a few words he will never repeat and pull his brother in for an embrace.

And then they’re gone, and Owen senses that something in his brother is, too.

[richincolor]

New YA Releases This Week!

Three exciting new YA books are hitting shelves this week! What's on your TBR?

Suddenly a Murder by Lauren Muñoz

Seven friends throw a 1920s-themed party, where it’s all pretend–until one of them is murdered. One of Us Is Lying meets Knives Out in this killer locked-room mystery.

Someone brought a knife to the party.

To celebrate the end of high school, Izzy Morales joins her ride-or-die Kassidy and five friends on a 1920s-themed getaway at the glamorous Ashwood Manor. There, Izzy and her friends party in vintage dresses and expensive diamonds–until Kassidy’s boyfriend turns up dead.

Murdered, investigators declare when they arrive at the scene, and now every party guest is a suspect. There’s the girlfriend, in love. The other girl, in despair. The old friend, forlorn. The new friend, distressed. The brooding enigma. And then, there’s Izzy–the girl who brought the knife.

To find the killer, everyone must undergo a grueling interrogation, all while locked in an estate where, suddenly, the greatest luxury is innocence.

There’s No Way I’d Die First by Lisa Springer

Debut author Lisa Springer delivers a spine-tingling, contemporary horror that follows a scary movie buff as she hosts an elaborate Halloween bash on her family’s estate but soon finds the festivities upended when she and her guests are forced to test their survival skills in a deadly party game.

Noelle Layne knows horror. Every trope, every warning sign, every survival tactic. She even leads a successful movie club dedicated to the genre. Thus, who better to throw the ultimate, most exclusive Halloween party on all of Long Island?

And with the guest list including the coolest kids in her senior class, her popularity is bound to spike. Hopefully, enough to warrant an expansion into podcasting. Plus, the fact that attractive, singer-songwriter Archer Mitchell is coming is honestly the candy corn on top. Nothing is going to kill her party vibes.

Except…maybe the low-budget It clown she hires to lead a classic round of tag. He’s supposed to be terrifying, though in a comforting, nostalgic way. Instead, the guy is giving major creeps. But maybe Noelle’s just that good at hosting?

Her confidence is immediately rocked when the night’s entertainment axes one of her guests. And he’s not done yet. If an evil, murderous clown thinks life is a game, then Noelle is ready to play. She’s been waiting a long time to prove that she’s a Final Girl.

Everyone’s Thinking It by Aleema Omotoni

Mean Girls meets Dear White People in this big-hearted, sharp-witted UK boarding school story about family, friendship, and belonging—with a propulsive mystery at its heart. Within the walls of Wodebury Hall, an elite boarding school in the English countryside, reputation is everything. But aspiring photographer Iyanu is more comfortable observing things safely from behind her camera. For Iyanu’s estranged cousin, Kitan, life seems perfect. She has money, beauty, and friends like queen bee Heather. But as a Nigerian girl in a school as white and insular as Wodebury, Kitan struggles with the personal sacrifices needed to keep her place—and the protection she gets—within the exclusive popular crowd. Then photos from Iyanu’s camera are stolen and splashed across the school the week before the Valentine’s Day Ball—each with a juicy secret written on it. With everyone’s dirty laundry suddenly out in the open, the school explodes in chaos, and the whispers accusing Iyanu of being the one behind it all start to feel like déjà vu. Each girl is desperate to unravel the mystery of who stole the photos and why. But exposing the truth will change them all forever.

[2346khith]

Hello dear friend,

I’m Noha from Gaza, Mother of martyr and wife of martyr .

17 people of My family was forcibly displaced from their homes to the southern Gaza Strip, and they now live in samall tent , The occupation completely destroyed our house and our business and we no longer have anything that we used to own.

MY mother suffers from joint pain and back cartilage pain. Also, she had surgery before the war to remove a tumor in the intestine 💔!!️ and she needs to continue her treatment.

As for my middle brother, Darwish,He has a family of 10 people, he is paralyzed in his right leg, he suffers from severe leg pain.  Two months before the war, he had surgery in Egypt to implant a joint in his leg, and he was supposed to return to Egypt to continue his treatment, but the war prevented him from doing so, so he urgently needs to go to Egypt to continue his treatment.

As for me, I lost my small and beautiful family in the 2014 war, which consists of my husband and my only child, whom I gave birth to after 7 years of deadly waiting and a very long and expensive treatment journey. He was only two and a half years old. I lost him and did not hug him enough to forget the agony of waiting for him to come. I also suffered injuries, which resulted in several operations on my right leg and other parts of my body, the effects of which I still suffer to this day. So, I don't want to experience what it's like to lose someone I love again. It's a very painful feeling. Please save my family.

Life here is unbearable, especially tent life is very difficult, and the situation is getting worse every day.

I urge you to support us to save our lives, Your support is our only hope for survival after losing everything.

We hope you will continue to support us by donating or sharing to help save and rebuild our lives. Every contribution matters, much appreciated

Many thanks to everyone who supported us.

https://gofund.me/e6644700

For those who see this please, visit their blog and reblog their blog’s posts so they  get more attention and if you have the money to spare please donate.

Also I apologize, but I do not have the ability to donate to you. Trust me if I had the ability I would but I don't and I can't. I have no bank account or credit card to transfer money to and no job to gain any money. Every time I ask my parents to help they shut me down so this is the only way to help you. Please forgive me.

[officeobject]

POV: You wanna help people by reblogging or donating if you can

elegantkidpuppy

1h ago

elegantkidpuppy asked:

Hello , can you please reblog or publish a post for my campaign? Due to the slow pace of donations, they pass slowly as ice. I hope you can help me. A small amount like $5, $10, or $20 will be more than useful to help me and my family. Thank you for everything💔🙏

‏Vetted Gaza Evacuation Fundraiser🍉🍉🍉‼️💔

I am #310 on the Vetted Fundraisers List‼️

‏Right now, donated money is being used to help us survive this war. Food is very expensive and my family has to pay rent for the land that our tent is on. However, I want to save up enough money to evacuate my family to a safer place where we can rebuild our lives. I dream of returning to university to finish my computer science degree. I want to provide a better life for my family than is possible in Gaza. My family and I have many dreams we would like to fulfill after this war. We are grateful to everyone who donated and helps us during this time of suffering.

Thank you for reading ♥️

I have been verified by @apollos-olives, it is in my pinned post.

‏https://gofund.me/73d4b003

Answer

huda-gaza1

1h ago

huda-gaza1 asked:

Hello, I am Huda from Gaza. Our house was destroyed, and I lost some of my family members. I need help to protect what is left of my family, and I am looking for ways to leave Gaza. If anyone can provide financial assistance or help share my story to support me, I would be grateful. Thank you.

Answer

ghazialamoudi

10h ago

ghazialamoudi asked:

Vetted by: 1) gazavetters, my number verified on the list is ( #89 ) 2) a-shade-of-blue Here 3) 90-ghost Here 4) dlxxv-vetted-donations Here

Dear Friend,

I hope this message finds you in a moment of peace. My name is Ghazi Al Amoudi, and I’m reaching out to you from the depths of despair. My family and I are trapped in Gaza, caught in the relentless storm of war. We’ve lost everything—our home, our safety, and the foundation of our lives 💔. Now, we find ourselves huddled in a fragile tent, vulnerable to the harsh elements and living in constant fear 💨💦.

With a heart filled with both sorrow and hope, I am desperately asking for your help 😢. Every bit of support—whether a donation, a share, or a kind word—brings us one step closer to escaping this nightmare. Our home, once a place of warmth and love, is now a memory buried under rubble 💔. We are left with only fear and uncertainty, struggling to survive each day 😔.

Please, if you can find it in your heart, help us find safety 😭🙏. Even the smallest act of kindness can light up our darkest hours, offering us a chance to rebuild our shattered lives. Your compassion could be the turning point between despair and a new beginning 🥺❤.

Here is my campaign link: https://gofund.me/8a2c70d7. If you are unable to donate, simply sharing our story could help us reach someone who can.

From the bottom of my heart, thank you for your kindness and support 🙏❤.

With deep gratitude, Ghazi Al Amoudi

14% of my long-term goal

1,476€ out of 10,000€

Donations are protected by GOFUNDME

Answer

salman-1990 19h agosalman-1990 asked:Please do not ignore our suffering and leave us alone My name is Salman Helles, from the stricken Gaza Strip. We were displaced from the north of the Gaza Strip to the south of the Strip, and the family was dispersed in tents and displacement shelters. Our situation is very miserable. We do not have any of the necessities of life. We would not have asked for support and donations except because of our dire circumstances. Please donate to me as much as you can and make sure that your donation, no matter how small, contributes to saving us. If you cannot donate, share my campaign on your blogMy campaign has already been verified by 90-ghostAnswer

salman-1990 20h agosalman-1990 asked:Please do not ignore our suffering and leave us alone My name is Salman Helles, from the stricken Gaza Strip. We were displaced from the north of the Gaza Strip to the south of the Strip, and the family was dispersed in tents and displacement shelters. Our situation is very miserable. We do not have any of the necessities of life. We would not have asked for support and donations except because of our dire circumstances. Please donate to me as much as you can and make sure that your donation, no matter how small, contributes to saving us. If you cannot donate, share my campaign on your blogMy campaign has already been verified by 90-ghostAnswer

[haveyouseenthisskeleton]

Silence, overwhelming silence.

Skeleton wakes up and finds that the world is empty of life. No Humans, No Monsters, everything and everyone seemingly vanished over night.

Stuck on an empty world, how does our Skeleton react?

Undertale Sans - He's freaking out. Everything is there. But there's no one. The house is empty. Grillby's is empty. Damn, even that noisy Karen neighbour's dog is gone. Sans tries to keep his cool, and keep calling his brother on the phone. All his phone numbers are gone but he knows his brother's phone number by heart. It's always end the same: the number doesn't exist. After a day of wandering without any idea where to go, Sans finally break down in the middle of the street, begging whatever force did this to reset. He's crying, begging for hours. It's like Sans' worst nightmare: being left behind. No friends, no family, not even that frickin' child. He's all alone. When it settles in, Sans gives up and dusts on the floor in hours. He can't. He just can't.

Undertale Papyrus - That's days he tries to keep hope, searching house after house for a sign of life. He refuses to give up. Something, someone must be alive somewhere. Maybe not his family or his friends, he gave up on that idea the first few days, but... A human? An animal? Someone to answer his more and more desperate calls for help. He's putting signs everywhere he can put them with his name and his address, so if someone passes by, they know someone is still alive. But after long months alone, Papyrus gives up. He's surviving, a small part of him still believing someone will come, and just tries to move on. His sanity is slowly giving up as well, and the other part of him might want it to stop working. He doesn't want to die, but he doesn't want to live like that forever either.

Underswap Sans - At first, he thought it was just a dream and stole his neighbour expensive new car to crash it in a wall, but when he crashed into the wall, he didn't wake up. Not only that, but he broke one of his leg in the accident. Blue will beg for help in the car, for days, before his body, starving and dehydrated, finally gives up and he dusts on the seat. Maybe it's for the better.

Underswap Papyrus - He's inside his closet, curling up, and in the middle of another panic attack. He tries to snap out of it by thinking of rational things, but nothing is rational anymore. Honey doesn't know how to take care of himself anymore and with his service dogs gone, he's slowly losing it, all alone in his room. He cried all he could cry already, but it's like nothing ever existed. He can see he's forgetting things as well. He doesn't understand why he is still here. Is this some sort of sick joke? He can't be here. Please, bring him back to his brother...

Underfell Sans - He keeps acting like it's nothing to keep himself sane, but oh boy he is not fine. At first, he thought someone finally managed to kill his brother, but got anxious when he couldn't find his dust. Then he realised Undyne was missing as well, and actually the entire monsterkind as soon as he discovered Grillby's was empty. They all must be playing some stupid prank on his, and that's fine, but it's two months now, and it's not funny anymore. He's slowly gets angrier and angrier as he's realising those bastards all probably fuckin' reset without him. Did the kid killed him in his sleep and that's where dead people go? That's bullshit! The more time passes, the more arson he's doing to try to attract whatever did this attention on him: burning cars, breaking into a bank, damn, he even exploded the King's house. What the hell do he has to do more to escape your sick game?!

Underfell Papyrus - That's probably just someone testing his survival skills. He's in a game, and when he will find the exit, everything will go back to the way it was and he will bath in popularity and fangirls. Who is he kidding. That's two months now and he still didn't see anyone alive, or even a camera. Did everyone think he's already dead? He's not dead. He's the captain of the Royal Guard! He fiercely keeps surviving, more and more stressed as months are passing. Something will happen. He just knows it. Anything.

Horrortale Sans - Welp, fuck this. He's sitting somewhere and waits for his brother to magically come and pick him up. He doesn't care if he has to wait his entire life here, he keeps forgetting everyone is gone again and again anyway. He will slowly lets himself starve, still hoping his brother will come for him.

Horrortale Papyrus - He's hyperventilating. The farm is empty, all the animals are gone. Sans is gone. That's two days he is stressed eating, hoping he will come back home, but nothing is moving. There's nothing on TV anymore and he is just so scared something happened in the city and he would die too if he goes as well. He doesn't know what to do. Eventually, the food is not eternal and he has to go anyway, only to find the world empty. Willow is breaking down. He feels like it's what he desserves. It was too good to be true. People like him can't hope for any kindness. He's just a murderer. He silently resigned to his fate.

Swapfell Sans - It's stupid. He's a royal guard, he's supposed to stay in control in any type of situation. Royal guard don't randomly burst out in tears like stupid babies for no reason. He's ashame of his own behaviour. Toriel would have his head if she knew how weak he was right now. But... Toriel is not here anymore. Or Rus. Or any of his rivals. He's not a captain anymore. He's no one. Just a fucking crying idiot who is lost in a world he doesn't understand. He's so angry. Why him? Didn't he suffer enough? Apparently not. Maybe it's best to give up. He did his time. Nox goes back to his house and let himself die.

Swapfell Papyrus - Welp, he's fine. That's two months now. He fell back into drugs and he's talking to hallucinations of his family and friends. It could be worse. He could actually realise the world is empty, which is certainly doesn't want. At least, the ghost of his brother screaming at him is encouraging him to keep going. He's not sure how long he can do that anymore, but he's doing it. He just hopes for sure this nightmare will end soon.

Fellswap Gold Sans - He's trying to do crazy things to pass time. So far he learned how to drive a train, how to use a nuclear bomb, erased the Australia because he read things about migrating spiders (even if there's no longer spiders, but still), and how to break the speed limit of a car so he could drive at 300 km/h on the road. Everything to not act like everyone is probably dead. He's a surviver, and he was already lonely. He can do this. He knows he can.

Fellswap Gold Papyrus - He hid in his closet and never got out, too scared to confront the silence outside. He used to hate noise, but now he would do anything to just hear something. He's not brave enough for this. He doesn't even know how to cook properly. Wine would kill him if he knew he burned his precious kitchen down trying to cook pastas because he didn't eat anything in three days. He's just waiting for someone to save him. He hopes he will stop being scared soon because he sure can't take it anymore.