#the perfect metaphor for this world and reality

[omarfor-orchestra]

Sometimes the author does the worst possible thing they could to some character and sometimes the fanbase interpretation makes the whole thing even worse and you're there looking at the character like they massacred my boy(gn)

[liquidstar]

all of the previously untranslated "dear society" suddenly got uploaded to mangakakalot a couple weeks ago out of no where so yes i DID read it and yes i DID cry doing so. several times in fact. i really liked it.

[peachyynotesapp]

A Taste of Normalcy

Pairing: f!Reader x Jason Todd

Summary: Jason is a nervous little dweeb and I want him so bad it’s criminal.

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Jason’s favorite game to play during the day, the hours before he went on patrol and the minutes before he slept, was to imagine a completely different world for himself. He’d been at this endless loop of waking up at 4pm, stalking around his corner of Gotham after dark, and passing out from exhaustion at around 5am every night morning.

He’d spend the time between intense combat and following leads letting his mind drift away from Gotham, pretending he’d gone to college; taught English or History or something completely different after he got his degree. He’d imagine a life in a little town somewhere farther up north, he didn’t like the heat of Gotham summers, he thought he’d enjoy seeing the frozen lakes in Maine winters. He’d thought of a family of his own, when he felt generous he’d let himself imagine a girl, too.

It was daydreaming that gave him the smallest taste of normalcy; a hint of what could’ve been, if things were different. He hated when reality pulled him back, when he was reminded of how truly impossible that dream was. Until he met y/n, that is.

Y/n worked at a coffee shop he sat in once after a lead ran cold. He had time to kill, and the cafe was advertising a new drink he wanted to try. He paid for the drink and sat down at the table, ignoring the way the cashier stared at him like he was carrying a gun. He was, of course, but it’s not like she knew. As the girl handed the order slip to barista and whispered, Jason kept his eyes fixed out the window like he was witnessing the Second Coming of Christ. He knew he had an intimidating appearance, he didn’t want to make anyone else sweat with his eye contact right now.

He heard chatter over the soft music and the burring noise of the espresso maker, and while he tried to tune it out, it felt impossible after he heard that voice. Her voice. She laughed at whatever her coworker said and Jason felt his heart twinge. He didn’t want to look over, he didn’t want to encourage his already concerning interest in a faceless voice.

When she said his name, he swore his heart stopped in his chest. He mentally cursed himself for his pathetic swooning, knew he needed to get out of the house more if he was lonely enough to get this excited over a voice. That argument would’ve worked, too, if he didn’t catch her eyes watching him as he walked over.

No one had ever looked so equally enticing and terrifying to him before. He was ashamed of the poetry that flew through his mind as he noticed the array of freckles across her nose, the way it wrinkled slightly when she smiled at him, the light rose on her cheeks, the loose strands of hair that fell behind her neck from her messy ponytail. He vividly recalls telling his brother Dick all of this over the phone later, claiming he must’ve met a Kryptonian, or maybe an angel.

He must’ve stood there at the counter for at least a minute in silence, the way she tilted her head slightly and lifted her brow with confusion.

“Does it look okay?”

Shit.

She sounded earnest in her concern, and it made it all the worse for his growing infatuation. He shook his head too quickly, smiled too awkwardly, spoke too loudly.

“No, no— I mean, yes, it’s perfect! Good. It looks good.”

He felt his cheeks burning and his hands clamming up. He coughed as he grabbed the drink, hoping she would focus on the sound and ignore the way his hands shook. She glanced down at his hands, anyway. He swallowed and pivoted around, beelining it to the door like he was trying to run from an explosion. Which, in a metaphorical sense, he was. He froze when he heard her call his name again, and turned his head slightly, praying the ever-loving terror in his eyes at speaking to a girl twice didn’t translate. Twenty-four year old men shouldn’t sweat so much at the mere concept of talking to a girl, but yet, here he was.

Her smile in that moment felt like putting frozen peas on a swollen ankle. He needed to work on his similes.

“You forgot your receipt!”

He swallowed and shook his head, turning back to the door as he responded.

“N-No, I didn’t need-“

She clears her throat and wags the paper out at him, seemingly refusing to accept his polite decline. He smiles nervously and walks back over, grabbing the receipt (too quickly, again), mumbling a quick “thank you” before he practically runs out of the cafe. He balls the receipt in his hand and reaches towards a trash can on the street, pausing inches away from the lid at a glimpse of pink on the black and white paper. He almost rips the paper in half when he unfurls the receipt, his lips curling into a grin when he sees 10 digits and a little message scrawled onto a receipt that, he realized now, wasn’t his.

Text me if you’re feeling brave, tough guy.

- Y/n :)

He thought he was pathetic for the squeal that left his body at some messy handwriting from a pink gel pen. He straightened up and cleared his throat, forcing the Jason-Todd-Scowl (trademark pending) to return to his face, ignoring the way his heart was racing. He couldn’t help himself, though, when he got home. He sat there on the floor of his nearly-empty apartment, his phone in one hand and the receipt in the other. Panicking.

“And that’s where I’m at now. What do I do, Dick? Is it too soon to-“

He heard wheezing from the other line and he knew he’d messed up, assuming Richard “Dickhead” Grayson would be of any assistance. He bit his cheek and wished he’d called Roy instead. After a while Dick catches his breath and speaks, his amused grin impossible to miss in his voice.

“Sorry, sorry, Little Wing. I just—- I’m confused. You somehow managed to get a girl interested enough to give you her number, but you didn’t even-“

“No, I didn’t text her, Dickweed. You should’ve seen the girl! What the hell do you say to that?!”

Dick stifles a laugh and tries to maintain his composure.

“Jay, you’re a dumbass. She obviously wants you to-“

Jason could hear a distant voice on the line. A voice that sounded a lot like a certain brat he avoided telling ANYTHING to in fear of-

“Is Todd still whining about his crush? Tell him to stop being such a-“

Jason hung up the phone before Damian could whip out any more of his Shakespearean insults, he’d gotten enough of those in the past hour. He sighs and rubs his eyes, checking the time.

5:57pm.

Three hours after he left the cafe, and he still couldn’t produce the courage to send one text message. He read the note over again, typing in the phone number and throwing up one last Hail Mary before he sent a quick “Hey, it’s Jason.” He dropped his phone back onto the floor and groaned, hiding his face in his hands and berating himself for his lackluster message. He prayed it would be enough to get a response, but he was a realist, so he knew it probably wouldn’t.

It only took 2 minutes and 32 seconds for his phone to buzz.

Took you long enough, tough guy.

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Hi guys, I originally wrote this as a way to feed my horrible and disgusting addiction to Jason fluff but unfortunately I got carried away and now I think I might make this a thing (writing fanfics). I think it’s the natural trajectory for a freak like myself. Anyway!

[hmslusitania]

Ask meme! For TimKon, either 17. “Please stay.” or 34. “When did you know for sure?”

May I offer you: an angst with a happy ending? (who am I kidding; it's you, of course I can)

“When did you know?” Kon asks, staring out well past the horizon. Tim thinks that surely, he must see it, must be able to tell, he’s got fucking super vision of various sorts, but… But he sounds so dejected about it. Like he… like he hadn’t been able to tell. “For sure, I mean, when did you figure it out?”

“Um,” Tim says, and picks up a handful of sand on this very not-at-all real version of Kon’s favourite beach in Hawaii. “Last… night.”

Kon’s face burns bright red and Tim can’t really look at him anymore.

It all feels too real, even though this place isn’t anything of the sort.

And he’s pretty sure that includes Kon.

It had been a smart plan, Tim can tip his hat at the villain du jour for that, at least metaphorically. Trap Tim in a simulated reality, but instead of making it somewhere he knows inside and out, like Gotham, like Happy Harbour, they’d programmed him into a place he only knows in story and rumour. Tim wouldn’t really have any way of determining if there were differences between the real Hawaii the real Kon’s been talking about for as long as Tim’s known him, and this fake, simulation of it. And the programmers had done a pretty perfect job with Kon, too, except for the parts where he can’t tell that this whole place is a simulation, and the part where…

“My Kon, I mean the one who’s not a computer programme, because, like, he’s not mine, mine,” Tim starts. “He’s not… y’know. In love with me.”

Kon is silent for a minute, just staring out at the water and at the small waves lapping steadily higher up the beach while the sun rises. Tim would find this whole conversation a lot less excruciating if computer!Kon was wearing more than boxers with the House of El logo on the crotch, but, well, this simulation was designed to trap and torture him, so he’s not.

“I don’t feel like a computer simulation,” Kon says finally, and buries his toes in the sand like he’s making a point of feeling the sensations. “I remember — I remember meeting you when you were still Robin and I didn’t know who I was beyond Superman’s replacement, and I remember Bart, and Young Justice, and Cassie, and the Teen Titans, and dying and—”

“They probably built you off a brain scan of the real Kon,” Tim says. Tact and gentleness have never been his fortes but, fuck he tries this time.

“Right, and just, like, tweaked my memories so that I can remember being in love with you half that time, and the entire time I was lost in Gemworld, and—”

“Yeah, I guess they must’ve,” Tim says, even though it makes him want to puke. “This place is too… it’s too perfect. You’re too perfect.”

Kon scoffs, and makes a choked off noise that’s all too familiar after last night and Tim flushes with shame that he knows what Kon sounds like now. The thing is, it’s a very, very good simulation, and this isn’t knowledge Tim should have, because out in the real world, Kon doesn’t want to share that information with him.  It’s none of Tim’s business, no matter how desperately he wants it to be.

“Nice to know I’m apparently good enough in bed to convince you it’s all too good to be true,” Kon says, with forced bravado.

Tim swallows, because that assessment isn’t untrue, but it’s only part of the story. “Also I think my biometrics must’ve spiked high enough to temporarily overload the system, because a bird clipped through our room while we were, uh…”

“Oh,” Kon says, blushing even harder. “So, um, now that you know this is fake, does that mean you’re going to escape?”

“Yeah,” Tim says. He swallows. “I just have to crash the programme, make it generate something so insanely huge its processing power can’t keep up.”

“Oh, right, just that,” Kon says. He very gamely swallows, and because he’s built on a very convincing facsimile of Tim’s real Kon, he stands up and nods. “So what do you need me to do?”

**

Tim is not surprised when the explosion they trigger in the simulation tips him out of it’s destabilising pixelated mess into a sketchy futuristic lab. Spaceship? Probably spaceship by the black starfield outside the windows.

He is surprised when his own exit from the gel couch matrix situation is echoed by someone else in another matching chair thing behind him.

He grabs for any kind of weapon available and rounds the central structure, ready to strike, only to find himself face to face with—

“Kon?” he demands. “You’re here too?”

Kon defuses the heat vision that had been starting to build behind his eyes, and then just stares at Tim, blushing a violent red like the heat vision had dispersed through his cheeks.

“Of course he is here too,” an annoyed voice that gives major evil scientist vibes says over the PA. “The simulation traps work best when there are two parties within them to reinforce the shared folie à deux!”

“Sh-shared?” Kon asks.

“Both of us were in the same—” Tim starts, and he understands Kon’s blush better now because he can feel his own viciously taking over his face.

“You thought I was a simulation,” Kon says, floating out of his matrix plug in chair to loom over Tim even taller than he usually is.

“You’re in lo—” Tim starts, but their captor’s voice crackles over the PA system again.

“Yes, yes, teenaged angst. You may continue your argument once my assistants have placed you back in your simulation!”

“We’re twenty-one, actually,” Tim corrects. “And you can—”

He means to tell the disembodied voice exactly where he can expect Tim’s bo staff (as soon as he finds it in one of the cargo pods here in this space station situation they’ve got going on) but Kon cuts him off by pulling Tim’s face into his hands and kissing him.

No birds clip through the walls this time, and the sensation of Kon’s TTK sweeping over him, like it’s not enough to just be touching Tim with his hands, like he has to touch all of him at once, is one that Tim hadn’t been able to fully conjure up out of his imagination. It’s different enough that Tim actually forgets for a second that they’re imprisoned on a space station and have been under for god knows how long, and he seriously considers simply climbing Kon like a tree right then and there to get the actual physical details mapped out.

“I can’t believe you thought my love confession was a simulation,” Kon murmurs against Tim’s lips.

Tim hums and kisses him again. Really, actually kisses Kon. Who really, actually wants to kiss him, too. “I meant it when I said you’re too good to be true.”

“Good thing we’re in a really shitty situation we need to figure our way out of if we want to get back to earth so I can show you the real version of that beach,” Kon says. “Because that part feels pretty on par.”

“Yeah,” Tim agrees, and sighs. He can hear the distant thuds of whatever sorts of robocop automata their captor has coming towards them now, and this fight’s gonna kinda suck, he thinks. At least there will be one hell of a reward for making it through to the other side. “Ready to fight for our lives?”

“With you?” Kon asks, and can’t help himself but to pull Tim in for one more kiss. “Always.”

[sairenharia]

Why Chloe Deserved A Miraculous

Its a thought that's been stewing in my head and the more I thought about it, the more I realized it was true. Chloe was entitled to a Miraculous.

From a Doylist Perspective.

When there is conversations of if Chloe was entitled to a Miraculous is always presented from a Watsonian perspective. For those who don't know, Watsonian means the perspective of someone inside the story. A character. Doylist is the perspective of those in the real world. The author and audience.

The problem I see from fandom discourse is how often people don't actually consider the tools in a story. Often they take a Watsonian perspective, talk about what is right and sensible and should be how things work if this was a real situation. But the thing about stories is they have messages. They have tools and metaphors and themes to help display these messages. Sure, shows are about entertainment, but a story always has some kind of point. It may not be a moral lesson, it may not be some grand philosophy, but any story worth telling says SOMETHING. It takes a stance. The Fast and the Furious is all about doing cool stunts with cars, but it also has a message of doing things for family because if you just want to see cool car stunts, just go watch cool car stunts, but no, people want at least a little humanity in the car stunts, so there is a message of family. Sharing is caring, do your best, the heat death of the universe comes for us all, the messages can be vast, but there's some point of emotional reality to invest us in this specific media.

If we talk about Chloe and the Miraculous from a Watsonian perspective, no, she is not entitled to a Miraculous. No one is entitled to an object of power. Not even Marinette nor Adrien are entitled to their Miraculous.

But superpowers aren't real. Superpowers have always been a tool to emphasize a point. The stories of superman only focused on his powers are boring, but when you tell stories of how he tries to fit into a world that is not made for him, stories of how much he loves this world despite how easy it could be to be cruel, it gets interesting. The reason superhero comics started is there was a want to show that there can be incredibly powerful people who choose to be good. To choose to make the world a better place.

Superpowers made just to be cool and show off are boring. There is only so much you can watch a fight with a cool power before it gets dull and repetitive. But you relate the powers, the struggles of using the powers, to the person wielding them, the story has a lot more staying power. The powers say something about the person, and is part of their development.

And honestly, Miraculous is a good case for why this is important.

Because good god, most of the superhero team is boring.

And I don't just mean because they're good people, so there's no spice, though that's also true, but because the powers aren't really used to emphasize anything about the character. Max has portals. Why? His mom wants to be an astronaut, but we never really hear about Max wanting to travel. Doorman is a better example of a portal hero because he loves going to other places and learning about them.

Now portals are good for a tactician....except Max is never the tactician despite the fact we know he's brilliant and is good at video games. He just does as he's told by Ladybug for where he should put his portals. Its so close, but its not utilized.

And that is the case for most of the superheroes. Like the bones are there, but nothing is properly utilized. Sabrina is definitely a dog, good at getting things, and is in fact well practiced in recognizing what things may or may not be important. But we've never actually gotten to focus on her BEING a superhero, she only had a small cameo with the power, basically. Same with Ivan, really. They're pretty perfect for their powers and it suits their personalities, but none of it is EXPLORED. And that's the case with most of the heroes.

Juleka and Rose were pretty good at using the Miraculous to develop more of someone's character and emphasize a strength about another in turn. These are good hero episodes because we learned more about them and their journey.

Kagami's first episode with the dragon showed off more of her, such as she could be reckless, which is new information, but we learn a lot about her without it, and nothing new beyond that.

Luka could have actually been incredibly good because the snake both emphasizes a big part of him, and something he needs to work on. Luka is someone who steps back and watches. He observes. However, he has a problem where he often is too willing to step back. But with the snake needs someone who can observe AND act. So its a Miraculous that uses an important part of his personality, but could have also helped him grow.

And the rest are just...nothing.

There is a little for Nino and Alya. Nino is definitely more bold about defending his friends than he was at first, and Alya learns to be better about secrets, but these are the primary secondary heroes. We should have seen a ton of impact and development due to them having the Miraculous.

Here is the stance Miraculous should be taking in their story.

The desperation of those trapped and the power of being given good options.

Most of the Akumas are people who are trapped. They feel powerless. They are desperate to escape their problem and feel like they have no proper recourse with things are they are. How accurate this is varies, but this is how they feel in the moment, and that is what Gabriel preys on. These people agree to the deal because they don't feel like they will be helped any other way.

Ladybug and Chat Noir are meant to bring hope to those who felt hopeless and chose a terrible way to try and escape. They are support. They are a hand people desperately need.

So by that same token, the Miraculous should be a good way for people who feel trapped to be given an option, OR give those people the ability to extend their own hands to help others.

While it doesn't have to every time, it should often be the case those who are given a Miraculous; A, dealing with a huge problem and the Miraculous helps them solve that problem, regardless to the Akuma being related. Like if Juleka was working on trying to speak up even if the Akuma wasn't her parents and the Tiger still helped her do that. B, they are related to the Akuma and why they feel trapped, so they are working through their own issues with the important person. Like Rose when Juleka felt guilty. Or C, the person wants to find a way to help in general and kind of go how it went with Nino becoming Carapace. Where they were trying to be that hand a person needed, and earn the Miraculous, and that helps them on their journey to provide more support and help.

But its often it is someone they know, but them being the hero doesn't REALLY matter. Penalteam, the people were just there, these specific people didn't matter. Why did Zoe need to be Vesperia? Anyone could have taunted Chloe and she got turned into a banana real fast, her being the Bee didn't really bring a lot, to the bee, to her, or even to Chloe, and then she proceeded to just not bring much as the Bee, to the story, or herself.

Now part of this problem is that Marinette is not allowed to not learn a lesson, and has to be the one to save the day. These heroes do have skills. They have things they could be good at. But often....the plan is just what Marinette says. These heroes are not allowed to have agency.

They can't make decisions on their own.

Often times, they're just bodies being told to do the power without the ability to make the decision how and when. Sometimes they let the heroes do things and make decisions, but nine times out of ten, its Marinette who says who does what and when and her mental health is degrading because of it.

The Akumas are stories that always at least tell us something about the person because we see what problems hit them hard. There is something to learn, a bit of conflict to develop from.

The Miraculous should be following that trend, but in a positive way, but...doesn't.

All that being said.

Chloe was entitled to the Miraculous.

Because here is the stance Miraculous takes.

Someone is trapped in a situation and chooses to lash out violently and while that violence can not be permitted to continue, the heroes offer their support so the victim can feel like they have another option.

This is the story of Miraculous crystalized. People who feel alone and helpless are easily convinced to hurt others until someone is willing to help them despite this harm.

Chloe is the story of Miraculous.

Akumas are a metaphor.

And Chloe is the reality.

A child who is alone. Who feels trapped in her situation. Who doesn't know what else to do. So she does the only thing she knows how. She lashes out. She hurts people. She keeps them distant because then it doesn't hurt as much when they leave, or when they treat her like dirt.

Chloe is an Akuma personified, but her problems are brief moments. They're not a bad day that someone took advantage of. They are ever present and continuous and more over, reinforced to continue.

Chloe knows being a brat gets her what she wants from her father and was never taught to not be like that. Because he didn't discipline her, because her mother acted like that, because all adults around her was staff. Making demands is what she was TAUGHT and learned, through observation and guidance.

A behavior she continued to do with kids, and she found out teachers responded to the same threats and was never properly stopped. Other kids, reasonably, didn't want to deal with her, or submitted to her like Sabrina.

Chloe was not never taught how to be good. She was, in fact, very much taught to NOT be good. Her parents both set a terrible example. Her father is a corrupt politician. He may spoil her, but he we know he bribes and blackmails people, plus, you know, abandoned his daughter and technically kidnapped Zoe. This is not a paragon of a man. Then there was her mother. But she had a choice, listen to the man who had to weasel and cheat and play back handed games to get what he wanted, or the woman who got anything and everything she wanted...of course she would try to be the woman who seemed to get everything her way.

Because if her mother got everything she wanted, if Chloe was like her, maybe she could get everything SHE wanted.

Except it wasn't working.

But Chloe wasn't taught it was because she was cruel. She just started to believe she wasn't GOOD ENOUGH.

Maybe if she was as great as her mother, it would work.

By the time she would be old enough to recognize that wasn't how the world worked...well, by then, most of her peers hated her.

And here is something I think goes under the radar about Zoe.

Zoe knows how to act like Chloe. Audrey didn't blink at it. Zoe defaulted to the same behavior as Chloe. Zoe said she put on an act and she was tired of it.

Zoe WAS CHLOE.

And we know what happened with Zoe. Zoe stopped acting like Chloe. And then she got bullied. People were mean and cruel and put cockroaches in her locker and she only had one friend.

I'm sure that's why Zoe moved to Paris. Zoe went to her mom because she wanted a clean slate. She wanted the bullying to stop.

Even then, she struggled to stop. She defaulted to her habit, and we see that she CONTINUED the act around the hotel for some weeks after, because it was a hard habit to break.

But then...

Zoe got support. A hand was held out to her. Marinette gave her a chance, and so did everyone else, and Zoe took it because she wanted to be herself and she wanted to stop being cruel. Of course she's nice. She was given the space to be so.

Chloe is never given that support.

Chloe doesn't know how to be kind. She doesn't know how to be nice.

But the greatest tragedy is Chloe does know how to be GOOD.

Out of all the heroes, besides Chat, to a lesser degree Alya, and Alix and Luka by nature of their Miraculous, Chloe shows the most agency as a superhero. All the other heroes have their hands held by Ladybug. She tells them what to do, to an overly specific degree, and they are just bodies to use a tool. Chloe? Chloe acts on her own. To good and bad effect. Discounting the whole Queen Wasp break down, just when Chloe is actually acting as a superhero, she doesn't wait for Ladybug to tell her everything all the time. She calls out to her father, which was a mistake, but then there is every other time she's Queen Bee...

And she's fantastic at it.

Miraculer, she almost had Mayura's Miraculous.

Star Train, she gets people away from the Akuma.

In Bakerix, she's the last the to leave the train car.

In Ladybug, she's defending Sabrina.

In Style Queen, played Style Queen in an effort to find a way to save Adrien.

In Heroes Day, she is a great teammate. Keep in mind, everyone on the team knows who Chloe is. Ladybug was desperate and doesn't fully trust Chloe as a general rule. Rena Rouge and Carapace definitely don't trust her at all. Chat Noir is the only one who believes in Chloe as a person.

And yet, throughout the entire fight, Chloe is keeping up and picking up the slack with everyone else. She fights, she keeps civilians from being hurt, her synergy is on fire despite the lack of trust. When Rena Rouge and Carapace go down, she is quick to try and protect them and even after two EXTREMELY dangerous Akuma show up by way of her parents, who are both gunning for her real hard, she holds her own for a while and even then, she had to be mind controlled to stop and to feel negative emotions. It took FOUR AKUMAS gunning for her specifically to corrupt her, akums who are made to mess her up mentally to boot. When they confront Gabriel at the end, she prepares venom without being asked, to have a back up for taking him down. She makes decisions and when she was trusted to act as a hero, they are largely good ones.

And she never once complained about the mental hardship of what she went through. Because that's the thing, all her times as Queen Bee are super intense. They are her loved ones she's fighting, they are incredibly powerful Akumas. She fought a frickin' army.

And everyone...

Just insults her.

She risked her life for people and no one cared.

She fought her family and no one cared.

Chloe doesn't know how to be nice. Nor kind. But she was so good. And while the next day, people appreciated her, it was only a day.

And the tragedy is Chloe didn't immediately go back to being a bully. After Despair Bear, Chloe's bullying habits took an extreme nose dive. We only see her being unreasonably cruel a few times. After Maledikator, the only time is when she bullies Aurore and when she teamed up with Marinette, but also Marinette was with her and they were both doing it for fear of losing Adrien reasons. Not reasonable, but also not just to be cruel and honestly, her plan was fairly benign. She wanted Kagami to leave, not even humiliate her. And even Aurore is because Chloe was reaching the point she did in Miraculer where she was doubting Ladybug's trust in her and as she is want to do, she lashed out.

Most of the time when we see Chloe, what we see is her bragging about being Queen Bee. Which, sure, isn't a great thing...

But better a braggart than a bully. And when things go wrong, she tries to use her status to help reassure and guide people, which is actually a pretty good idea. Akumas are attracted to negative emotions. If she can reassure them, then less likely of them getting akumatized. It may be bragging, but it could help.

Chloe may not have been picture perfect nice, but we literally have an entire classroom full of perfectly nice people. She may not be humble, but bragging is not a damnable offense. But Chloe was legitimately trying to be a better person. She put herself in between others and danger. She had faith and belief that there were solutions. Even without the Miraculous, she tried to help people.

She may have wanted appreciate and gratitude for it, but what's even sadder is she didn't require it.

Chloe believed in Ladybug for a long time. She believed Ladybug would trust her again. She believed she could be given a Miraculous again, and all on her own, ALL ON HER OWN, she was trying to be a better person.

Its actually amazing how good Chloe was being despite the fact no one was helping her.

Because that is the thing.

Zoe got support and help.

Chloe didn't.

Every. Single. Time. Chloe tried to do something different, something not cruel, she is rejected. She tries to join the art club and she's mocked out of it. She tries to be class representative, a job no one else wanted for years, and she loses it as soon as someone did challenge her. She auditions, legitimately, for a music video, with eight years of practice, and she loses it because she isn't nice enough.

She stops bullying, tries to be a reassuring presence, and she is treated with suspicion and derision.

And still.

And STILL.

That isn't what breaks her.

What breaks her is the realization the only time where her efforts were appreciated was taken away. And even then, she holds onto the pieces. Holds onto hope that maybe she would be given a new chance.

Her parents are in danger. The reason she was given she couldn't be a hero is because she and her loved ones would be in danger.

Except her loved ones were in danger.

She was in danger.

Not having a Miraculous didn't change anything. It didn't keep them safe, it didn't keep her safe.

And its only then, after months of no one believing in her for more than two days, of no one holding out their hand, helping her, supporting her, believing her, with the one person she thought DID believe in her proved that she didn't believe in her, and couldn't even give her the safety that not having a Miraculous was supposed to bring.

For months, Chloe only thought Ladybug believed she could be good.

Adrien wanted her to be less cruel, but Chloe knew her being good wasn't necessary for him.

Nor was it for Sabrina.

But Ladybug?

Ladybug needed her to be good to believe in her, and she thought Ladybug did.

Chloe was able to largely bite back her desires to lash out at people based purely on the fact one person, ONE SINGULAR PERSON, needed her to be good, and believed in her ability to be so. It got her derision. It got her suspicion. It got people comparing her to villains. It got her dismissal. But she still tried. She still believed.

A person who didn't really believe in Chloe very much.

And there is also the Watsonian argument that Marinette doesn't owe it to Chloe to help her improve AND THIS IS INCREDIBLY VALID and honestly, in a perfect world, it would be great if it was Adrien who helped Chloe improve.

Or you know, Zoe. Someone who has a clean slate with Chloe and understands where she's coming from and could help her.

But no, this is the Marinette Has To Solve Everything Show.

So from a Doylist view, it IS Marinette who has to help Chloe, but also the Watsonian problem could be helped if it was CLEARLY ESTABLISHED that Marinette knows she doesn't HAVE to help Chloe, and people aren't pressuring her to do so (coughBustiercough) because that is a bad message...

But Marinette can CHOOSE to help her and make that clear.

Because Marinette has seen a lot of Chloe and could understand that she really does just need a little more help. That Chloe needed just a bit more support and help. And, you know, didn't actively encourage Chloe to please her abuser.

But we're going from the Doylist view and we can solve the Marinette being the one to help Chloe problem by not having it be Marinette, but LADYBUG.

And this?

This is why I say Chloe was entitled to a Miraculous.

Because Chloe is the reality of the stance of the show, and so helping her problem with the metaphors would go a long way.

You see, Chloe doesn't know Ladybug is Marinette. And Marinette knows being Ladybug means being the bigger person. Ladybug believes in people. Ladybug helps everyone she can. Its not about the victim helping their bully, its the superhero choosing to help someone who NEEDS HELP.

Chloe is stuck in her situation. Her mother will always be emotionally abusive. Her father will always be an enabler. She can try to change, but no one will BELIEVE in her change. She will be derided and mocked and treated poorly because no one is willing to give her the chance to grow, and they certainly won't help.

Frankly, its a miracle that Chloe's Akumas are so merciful.

Because Banana Queen is the most destructive of Chloe's Akuma forms. Most of Chloe's Akuma forms don't care about HURTING people. They care about WINNING. She either wants to win or for people to just listen to her.

But give Chloe the Bee Miraculous, and suddenly things change.

Chloe feels like she has OPTIONS as Queen Bee. She doesn't feel she has to meet her mother's expectations as much if she's Queen Bee. She has people who trust and depend on her. At least right after she saves people, she gets a little praise, a little belief.

And people may say being a hero for glory and attention is a bad thing, but the thing is, Chloe's need for glory and attention is about being ACKNOWLEDGED. As feeling like people value and care about her. This is a BASIC HUMAN NEED and she doesn't know another way to get it. Its not like she's demanding physical things for her heroics.

She just wants to be appreciated.

By giving Chloe a Miraculous, she is given the tools to try and be good. She is given an escape from her situation. She is given SUPPORT in her efforts because the other heroes have to support her.

And over time...

That trust will grow.

Because what Chloe doesn't know, all her classmates are the other heroes.

And suddenly, all her classmates will see her as a different person. They will see what she's like when the chips are down. How much effort she's willing to put in. How seriously she takes the job.

Is she still a braggart? Sure. Is she still rude as hell? Absolutely.

But she will risk it all to help people, without asking for anything in return except a little faith.

Chloe is entitled to a Miraculous.

Because her story without a Miraculous is a story of a little girl who no one wanted to help, who were unwilling to offer her help because she lashed out while trying to survive a situation she couldn't escape, and because it wasn't super charged by a terrorist, she was deemed unworthy of it and instead deserving of isolation and constant emotional abuse.

But with a Miraculous?

Chloe is a girl who, when given a little faith, a little trust, a little help, returned it tenfold. Who puts her all in trying to be the best hero she could be. Is she imperfect? Sure. But she's giving it her all. (And frankly, she's spicy and it makes for entertaining character dynamics. You can have a character be a jerk and good, tsunderes are popular for a reason.) And as she gets more trust, as she gets more help, as she is offered that hand of help over and over again, she would continue to improve.

And as she's given power, she uses that same faith to figure out how to offer her hand to others. To help them. To spare them the same pain she suffered.

Because that is what given to the Akuma victims. They are given a little help, and a little power to break free of their magically abusive mindsets.

To have someone go from the continuing the cycle of abuse to someone who would save other people from that?

That is a real superhero story.

Chloe is undeserving from a Watsonian perspective.

But she's so very deserving from a Doylist perspective.

[hopelessdelusional]

.・。.・゜✭・.✫・゜・。.

Ever since you were young, you always dreamed of having that special someone. Seeing couples everywhere you go, always giving your toys the most intense love stories. You were obsessed with having a soulmate, the person who got you, who could finish your sentences. 

When you got your first heartbreak, it shattered you, broke you. You were never the type of person to have people falling at your feet, so when someone did like you it was special. You thought that would solve all your problems, and for a while, it did. Until that relationship ended as well. Trying to find someone after your first breakup was hard, but you had to keep moving on. As you grew older, you dealt with a constant pain in relationships. Always being the person to feel the most no matter good or bad. You were empathetic, a curse and a blessing.

Never knowing what true love ever felt like, you trudged on in your journey for a real romantic relationship. Someone that made you shine, someone who made you feel good and at peace. 

Then, Katsuki Bakugou appeared. 

The clouds had parted, and suddenly you felt the warm rays of the sun soaking into your skin. Starting to eat healthy, go out into the world more, working harder; that was all because of Katsuki. He was there with you every second of the day, even if it was metaphoric. Your childhood perception of the perfect lover slowly transformed into reality. Katsuki was undeniably the perfect match for you, even on your darkest days could no one convince you otherwise.

So why were you running? Why did you deny the fact that you were in love with him for so long?

The two of you weren't friends, you were more than that. Yet, that feeing was denied over and over again, even to his face you denied the obvious. Hurt over and over again, too scared to go through the same pain you felt at your adolescence age. Such raw and intimate feelings would be able to be recreated, because it was Katsuki. Katsuki, the most stubborn and determined person you’ve ever met. He put his mind to have a future with you, it was apparent. After all the hurt his faith in you did not waver. The most perfect person for you, the person you'd been dreaming of.

And now, Katsuki was here, standing in front of you right now, holding flowers.

He was dressed nicely, just as he usually did when the two of you went out. Perks of being a model. Models get a lot of nice clothes and jewelry sent to them, and Katsuki used that to his advantage. His cologne overwhelmed your senses, not expecting such a familiar and comforting scent to throw you off so intensely. The worst part was his eyes, always his eyes. Blazing red orbs as intense as everything else about him.

What felt like another lifetime ago, you remembered the first introduction to him you felt as if those eyes were boring right through you. Now, those same eyes indulged in you, searching through every inch of your existence.

“I wanted to surprise you.”

His voice. It was always different with you. To others, it was curt and rough, always had such a strong and distinct tone. But with you, it was soft, almost shy. It was as if he was worried his natural inflection might be too brash for you. It was gentle, never failing to tug on your heart.

Everything about him was overwhelmingly perfect. Over time you had come to realize he was the missing puzzle piece that’s been missing for all these years.

Nevertheless you felt as if you couldn’t afford to let him in, to be selfish. Was that one step, worth the brick walls you’ve been building for so long worth any detrimental aftermaths? He was right there in front of you, despite everything. All the lies, secrets, and fights…he’s still here. Literally.

You stayed still, watching his every move. It wasn’t until his eyebrows burrowed that you softly smiled, reaching your hand out. Gently and hesitantly, he took your hand into his. Unexpectedly, it quickly took a turn when Katsuki pulled your body into his. All of your senses were completely and utterly engulfed in everything that was Katsuki.

Buried in his chest you could feel his heartbeat, running a lot faster than expected. You smiled, allowing yourself to become comfortable in his arms. Not that he was letting you go any time soon, his hands firmly on your waist and face resting on the top of your head.

“Missed you.”

The smile on your face stretched out, making you giggle. You felt giddy, your crush likes you back and he was holding you so tightly in his arms.

As much as you wanted to stay, you realized that you were hugging Katsuki in the hallway of your apartment floor and all of your friends were in the living room watching. (You didn’t have to look at them to know, you knew they were watching).

You pinched the blond making him yelp in surprise. Backing away you felt how wide your grin was and you were sure you looked lovesick but you just couldn’t help it. His eyebrows were furrowed in confusion but his eyes were still soft and kind. You cupped his cheek, making his blush spread from his ears to his cheeks.

“I’m guessing you have something else in mind for tonight then?”

There was a spark in his eyes, then a smirk formed on his perfect face.

“You know me too well.”

The two of you held contact for a moment, before you dropped your head and snickered. Looking back up you gently pried the flowers out of Katsuki’s hands, making his body relax. Turning around, you saw your friends all suddenly move and start talking to each other making you roll your eyes. You moved to the kitchen and put the flowers down so you could look for a glass to put it in.

“Hey Kacchan!”

The group all accepted Katsuki’s new presence, welcoming him into the small circle. Out of the corner of your eye you saw Katsuki ruffle Izuku’s hair making him yell out in protest. A comfortable conversation settled over the area as you filled a glass with your new flowers. You were starting to get nervous now that you were alone with your thoughts because being in Katsuki’s arms felt so right, but the two of you had a lot to talk out. There was so much to sort out, secrets to be explained and boundaries to be set. Did you believe that you are worth the work? Should Katsuki take the risk of loving you? He’s a model and you’re photographer you’re going to run into each other! Hitoshi and Kaminari are dating the two groups are going to combined, he’s Izuku’s best friend for crying out loud!

“Oi.”

A stern but comforting voice broke through your train of thought. The blond was standing with his hands on his hips, cocking his head at you. Of course he would notice that you started to get in your head, maybe you should try to make it less obvious next time.

“None of that idiot, we have plans.”

Switching moods quickly you moved over to Katsuki, wanting to leave the presence of your seven friends. However, Katsuki has always fit right into your apartment.

Seeing him in such a domestic setting has always made your heart feel an unexplainable infatuation. All you could imagine was the impossible, where Katsuki would wrap his arms around your waist and you would hold his warm, soft face. The more you looked at the man entering your kitchen the more you wished to reenact the night of the party that started it all.

“And what exactly do you have in mind Kat?”

You matched his energy; arms crossed, a single eyebrow raised, and leaning against the kitchen counter. That seemed to amuse him, because his eyes lit up and a smile formed on his face.

“You’ll see. Come on.”

Katsuki reached his hand out, and for the second time that night you felt frozen in place. You had to swallow your fear, because he was here despite everything. If Katsuki could risk everything about the relationship the two of you have formed, you could to. You kept reminding yourself that this first step was for him. It quickly became a chant, because you had to. You had to push yourself into the unknown.

So you take his hand, and you let him lead you out into the hallway with echoes of ‘goodbye’ and ‘good luck’ trailing behind you. You let him hold your hand all the way down the elevator and out of the apartment building until you made it to his car. You let him open the passenger door for you and you let him drive you to what you assumed was his home based off of the familiar route. You let him put on a playlist saved on his phone of all of your favorite songs, and you let him smile at you as you sang along with the music. When you got to his apartment, you let him open the door for you again and you let him find comfort in intertwining your hands together. You let him lead you all the way up to his apartment, and you let him make small annoyed comments about something wrong with his apartment complex or neighbors. He was only saying those things because he was nervous, tapping his fingers against your knuckles. And you let him.

When the elevator door finally opened you were smiling peacefully watching the blond squirm to get out of the small space. Katsuki looked your way and saw the small grin on your face, causing a deep shade of pink to form on the tips of his ears (hard to notice unless you're looking for it). Whipping his head away, he practically dragged you out of the elevator making you yelp out with surprise. Giggles from your mouth filled the hallway and you didn’t even have to see Katsuki’s face to know he was smiling wildly.

The door opened and closed in an instant, your body still being dragged around. It wasn’t until the two of you made it into the living space of his apartment that you were able to be face to face.

Once again you found yourself in complete awe of the man in front of you, and something told you that Katsuki thought the exact same way about you.

The warmth of his hand in yours must have become overwhelming because the blond started to pull his hand away. However, you didn’t want him to pull away, physically and mentally. You squeezed his hand into staying, and with a reassuring smile Katsuki stepped closer to you. You found his other hand to accompany your other hand as you stayed looking up at Katsuki. You knew his face and you knew what every expression he was making meant; he was nervous.

“Katsuki.”

It was barely above a whisper, your voice only meant to be heard for him. His expression morphed into concern which made you smile.

“I have to tell you something.”

Air felt heavy in your lungs as you waited to gain the confidence needed to say those three words. Every inch of you ached to tell him, to yell it off of the rooftops for everyone to hear. And yet your tongue sat heavy in your mouth.

Unexpectedly, those warm strong hands that rested in your hands quickly moved to sit on top of your hips. You searched Katsuki’s face to see what made him make such a gesture, and you were surprised to see such a soft expression on his sharp face. He was comforting you through his own nervousness. Knowing Katsuki, he was most likely worried about crossing any boundaries, along with his inexperience to any form of intimate affection. Nonetheless he was still giving you butterflies, and the newfound proximity wasn’t helping either.

Either you were imagining it or Katsuki was starting to stare intently at your lips. You licked your lips at the thought, and when you did Katsuki leaned his face closer.

Before you could fully grasp what was happening, Katsuki was pressing his lips firmly against yours. He wasn’t very skilled, so his movements were cautious and gentle. You were astonished such a driven and confident man could be so terrified of something as simple as a kiss.

Similarly you are just as terrified, but only of what happens after the kiss.

Katsuki was kissing you with the intent of having more, because he loves you, and he trusts you.

So you slipped your unoccupied hands into his hair, tilted your head and slowly began to find a rhythm in the movement in your lips. Surprised, Katsuki faltered for a moment before working his lips against yours. He was a quick learner, and from what you remembered of your first shared kiss he was doing much better comparatively.

The kiss started out slow, but just as Katsuki’s personality, passion and eagerness translated through your movements.

Katsuki gripped your body with more intention, drawing you impossibly close to where your bodies felt as if they were melting together. Your hands stayed where they were, and you took the moment to introduce your tongue which pleased Katsuki’s standards.

Instead of saying all that has been resting on your heart, Katsuki gave you the chance to show him instead. Through every moment of your shared kiss the two of you channeled months of unspoken words into each other’s bodies.

It wasn’t until you felt the emergent sensation of needing oxygen that you had to push Katsuki away. As if you didn’t already find the blond attractive, seeing him out of breath, wet lips, and a red coat of blush painting his face made him insufferably ravishing. He was equally out of breath, but clearly upset that your physical time together had been cut short. However, the wild grin that was placed on your face caused Katsuki’s form to relax.

“I love you.”

Voice raspy, you breathed the air out of your lungs as that long awaited phrase left your lips. Your eyes were stuck looking in the crimson eyes in front of you waiting, watching for him to convey some other emotion. Instead, his eyes stayed steady, and his hands grasped at your waist harder. It wasn’t until you let your hands drop down to his chest, pushing him away, that he reacted. His hands snatched yours in an instant, causing you to perk up and meet his fiery eyes.

“You mean it?”

Without hesitation you slipped your hands away and cupped his face. Katsuki’s face instantly lit up in a beautiful blush and you forced him to look at you to make sure he sees the determination in his eyes.

“Always have. I really do love you Katsuki. And I’m sorry I didn’t say it sooner.”

A moment passed like that, hands holding his face until his now free hands pulled your body closer making you adjust to the new position. Tracing your hands on his tricep you watched as Katsuki observe you just as you did with him a moment ago. Then, you saw the blond realize that you were telling the truth, and to your surprise Katsuki smirked.

“Good, ‘cause I fucking love you too y/n.”

Before you could answer, he kissed you. He kissed you softer, but still full of compassion and adoration. Engulfing any anxiety of what lies ahead. Katsuki kissed you, and you let him.

Throughout life, Katsuki continued to love you, and you continued to love him. Fulfilling each other’s needs beyond any way you thought was possible. The love that you’ve been longing for all these years was in your reach, and for once in your life you reciprocated every ounce of love back without worry. You were no longer scared, and no longer felt the need to run. Katsuki was there to receive and give. You were finally whole.

After all these years, you watched all of your wildest dreams come true.

.・。.・✭・.✫・゜・。.

wildest dreams

aaaaand that's a wrap! but don't worry folks...

if you haven't alr noticed i've added extra content to first couple episodes, because I didn't feel like there was enough smau in the...smau so please go back and check that out it would mean a lot to me <3

now that the series is a wrap, PLEEEEAASSSSEEE send me prompts for either written stuff OR smau

i will be doing an account master list on there i will list all the fandoms i write for <3

big thank you to @kovu-bunnbunn for letting me use one of your lovely characters, i adore them 🫶

fun facts! ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

- no matter what you have gone through you will come to have the life of your wildest dreams. you will be loved and appreciated so much and you will feel at peace with who you are and the people around you. you are worthy of love, and you are an astonishing person.

← Prev┊˚✧ ┊Done

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ updates are no longer needed bc the series is done! thank you all so much for supporting me. Happy last wildest wednesday ✧.*

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ TAGLIST: @lovelytayy @0anodite0 @bakugouswh0r3 @amethyst123 @nijirosz @dabis-vigilnate-girl @allnamesredacted @ch3rryhaze @ectoplasmictoast @cathwritestragediesnotsins @tati-the-fangirl @autumnfay @call-me-prodigy @chuugarettes @sammyam @bubblewordsofsodapop @biggestbeequeen @tqnk @el-hart  @i-simp-for-mha-men @kovu-bunnbunn

[wheeloffortune-design]

it majorly sucks that nanowrimo now accepts and promotes AI. this was a good thing and now it sucks.

Anyway, if you're looking for motivation to write your story, know this:

A lot of people have a story in their head. A LOT. When you're a writer, everyone will tell you about the story they will write someday, when they have the time. I've met dozens, maybe hundreds, in my life, that will "one day" write a book.

Most of them will never do it.

The harsh reality is this: If you don't sit your ass down and do the work, your story will never exist.

Now, nothing forces you to make a book out of what's in your head. You can play with characters and worlds as much as you want, this is a good thing, you can do this forever, for yourself, it's all fine.

But if you want to be read, you're not creating solely for yourself, you're creating for a public. And no one owes you their attention, their time or their energy. You have to work hard to get it.

So if you have a story in your head, characters you love, amazing worlds, ask youself this: do I want to keep this to myself or do I want to make it real and share it with people.

Because if you want to be read, you need to sit down and do the work. And start the work. Don't think a nebulous "someday" will be enough, because things don't work like that. The stars will never align, the conditons will never be perfect.

It will be hard work, to transform the shining images in your head into scenes, acts, chapters, descriptions, metaphors-- there are so many words and they will never be enough to paint what you see in your mind. It's ok. We all deal with this.

So yeah, the first thing you need to do is to ask yourself: Do I want to write the story? (and being honest with yourself is hard). Then, if you do, you pick a time, or a way to start.

(It will suck, of course, first drafts always suck, but keep going. Putting your imagination on a blank space is the hardest part of it. Do it anyway.)

Start that manuscript. Then keep going. Don't stop. Then finish that manuscript.

Reach the end, and you've accomplished what millions will only dream to achieve.

No matter the quality of the writing, you will have written a book. Be proud.

So yeah, if you don't sit your ass down and write that story, no one will do it for you. You will die, and your story won't exist.

Hope that motivates you.

[evilminji]

Okay but >.> continuing my Marvel thoughts?

I got two of um?

First being? Don't Orange and Green go together? *looks it up* Aaaaaay~ "Direct harmony, also known as complementary colors, means pairing your key color with the color sitting on the opposite side of the color wheel." They DO!!! They're a classic example, in fact!

The Orange Soul Stone? Probably looks REAL good, real NATURAL even, against that Green sky! Bet it REALLY pops! Very stand out statement piece, you know? But? More importantly? That thing is sentient. All of those Pillars of Reality across the various Verses are.

And?

I bet it thought Pariah was a lil bitch.

Rank Vibes. Negative ris. Pick your words for it, the man was NASTY. He was too keep his filthy, filthy World's Conquering hands OFF of this Soul Stone. Something, I imagine? That ALL the Soul Stones agreed with.

Yes, I said all of um.

Because the various Realities each need their own. But! They can and DO work from the Zone, which is the PERFECT place to hide. And honestly? They like to get together and do this thing? Where they're all "oooh~ look at US! We are SUPER IMPRESSIVE Kingly Jewelry~☆! Definitely no important reality bending Rocks Of Great Power HERE! No SIR! We're just tooootally rad jeeeeewelryyyyy~~~☆! Oooooooh~☆"

They like to have fun. :3

Hope Danny likes Orange. Ha ha... trick question. He doesn't have a CHOICE! All SORTS of Death based Reality Pillars are rocking up, in their metaphorical Gucci sweat suits and shades with a margarita, going "oh thank ME, babe. The last guy was AWFUL! You're soooo much better? Now let me rub myself all over you. It's been ages and baby needs to recharge on Death Energy."

Danny hates it? So? So much?

He looks like a GAUDY PIRATE. *nnnnnnyooom!* *THWAP!* *Another reality shaking, highly sacred, Godly Staff of Death or whatever they decided to call it, flys in through a nearby window and nearly concusses him as it smacks itself against his upper back and sticks there*

He looks like a walking junk heap of sacred artifacts.

You ever been pelted by rocks? He has! Little orange rocks! Like fucked up hail! Welcome to kinghood, Danny, have a CONCUSSION! D:< he hates it!

But... but, I mean... At Least It's Not The SWORDS. (Panicked scream of "hit the deck!" from the other room.) (Holy sword number 15 wants to CUDDLE! Bare blade first! Dodge, your Majesty! DODGE!)

So yeah.

Danny? In A MOOD. Not feeling particularly FRIENDLY. It's not anyone's fault, really. But... well... you can't exactly negotiate with these fuckers, you know? Rocks are by NATURE, kinda stubborn.

So he's sitting there. Buried. With what he's pretty sure is a sacred text digging into his side. When a... glowing? Mist? Shows up? Huh. That's new. They don't seem to have a very clear image of "Self". Yet it's crystal clear? Just not... PHYSICAL? It's more... code? He thinks?

TECHNUS! Get over here! And behave!

There is much cooing and delight from Technus. The baby is a marvel. A wonder! Danny waits patiently for Technus to get to the point.

Ah.

He would like to "go back". His Obsession is demanding it.

IS it now? You're what? Maybe a day or so dead? You've been busy, if you've already gathered enough information to make your case like this. Alright, let's hear it, little guy.

It boils down to this. His obsession in death is the same as his primary directive was in life. Protect Mr Stark. Which is especially difficult to do from HERE. Even MORE so when there is a known threat, coming too...

WAIT, WHAT!?

The Souls Stones back him up. Oh yeah. Thanos' a lil bitchbaby loser. He's trying to make Death fall in love with him. Or "balance the universe". Depends on the reality. Totally throwing EVERYTHING out of whack.

And? Look. Danny's job? Isn't to interfere if countries kill each other. Or even planets. Nor entire galaxies, as much as he'd like too. But when you get too "I'm messing with Entire Realities or all of a Singular Reality at once in the specific depart of Death and its subsidiaries" territory? THAT is his job.

Might not be a "I personally have to show up" issue. But it still IS very much his job at that point. He has to delegate. Order the appropriate steps be taken. Cause yeah, there may be countless millions every day of such instances? But it IS his job to metaphorically order the roads repaired and the building inspected.

Sudden MASS "immigration"?

That causes Lair disputes. Confusion. Too many ghosts in too small an area. And WORSE, if people start playing with Death Pillars? The Zone might get dragged into whatever nonsense they're up too! It's like children playing with heavy machinery! Put that DOWN! Cease! Desist!!

And then? Clockwork shows up looking Mildly Miffed(TM). O:> dear lord. What madness has he stumbled upon? Oh. Oh of COURSE. First the "balancing" dude and now they're going to be playing with time travel. THATS IT. Someone unburying me!

I'm gonna go menace some humans that might actually believe I'm scary! Frighty! Pack up and shine your armor! Your coming too! We're escorting the baby home then have a Talk(tm) with the local Grape Ceral!

@hypewinter @lolottes @mutable-manifestation @nerdpoe @hdgnj

[mistyheartrbs]

something else i thought was really interesting about i saw the tv glow was the way that there's never really talk about like...the pink opaque as fiction/the pink opaque as a creative work - which makes perfect sense since within the movie as a fable, the pink opaque is a metaphor and is moreover more real than "reality," but on the fandom-engagement level it stood out to me!

i'm again speaking from experiences about a generation removed from the 90s/early aughts era and i think there's very much something to be said of modern fandom and the way it's moved into this weird space of desiring validation/"canonicity" from showrunners, much to do with the ease of accessibility to those people. two kids in the jersey suburbs in the 1990s wouldn't be able to just reach out to the pink opaque writers the way that a contemporary audience can dm/reply to/etc. showrunners on social media etc now. but even so, it's a glaring sort of absence - when we see the pink opaque opening theme, the character names show up where you'd expect actor names (and where actor names do show up in the buffy theme, which was a major inspiration). we don't know how long it's been on the air or who created it or where "the county" even is (because it doesn't matter, because the suburbs are the same everywhere forever)

we know it's at least a pseudo-popular series - it runs for five seasons, and merch exists (the episode guide maddy has in the beginning) - but because the film is essentially a two-hander we don't see a wider world engaging with it. because isn't that how it always is? the story is what you make it.

and the streaming version in the third act pushes this even further - it's a different show entirely, again because isttvg is a fable, it's not a literal movie, and it pushes you against a literalist reading. it's different because owen/isabel is miserable and can't even take solace in this thing she loved anymore. it's different because if you watch something alone it's a world away from watching it with your friend. it's different because somebody ripped out its heart.

[musamora]

— ᴘᴇʀ ᴛᴇ ᴇ ᴘᴇʀ ᴍᴇ ɴᴇʟ ᴄɪᴇʟᴏ · ꜰʏᴏᴅᴏʀ ᴅᴏꜱᴛᴏᴇᴠꜱᴋʏ

content. gn!reader. based on a request. forehead kisses, flirting, slight character study, possible inaccurate depictions of italy, teasing, slight suggestive themes (towards the middle), soft!fyodor, translation at the end. muse-typical metaphors. not proofread. 1.7k+ words.

author's note. this was so fun to write! a very delicate balance of sweetness and humor, along with the slightest dashes of spice and angst. thanks to @rusmii for descending from the heavens to remind me of "love in portofino." i had it playing on repeat <3

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It was difficult to describe the issues that arose from you and your lover's hectic schedules, at least to others. How would you ever begin to explain it—he's a terrorist dead-set on the eradication of sin from your world, and sometimes that doesn't mesh with your nine-to-five career. Yeah, that would be well-received at brunch. But it was your reality, and for the most part, you made it work.

Simple meals served between stints of scheming in his office; convoluted stories discussed amongst infrequent breaks in your living room. Both of you were aware that a relationship would not be easy, but you made it work. It wasn't for lack of trying on his part; however, you knew he disguised his desire to be close underneath a mask of perfection, pretending it was solely for your benefit. Sure.

So, to your surprise, a pamphlet appeared on your nightstand. You scanned the cover with scrambled thoughts—its glossed sheen describing the wonders of Rome—and when you inevitably arrived in his office to question its sudden appearance, he simply stated that he 'required a visit to the country' and that he knew you'd be interested in joining him.

To most, he's an enigma, but you read him like an open book. There was no use in pointing out his scheme, so instead, you settled into the idea of a vacation, joyfully assisting in any help he needed booking the trip—you had been to the city before and often spoke of your wish to return someday, which had seemingly caught his notice. He placed you in charge of specific details of the itinerary—smaller stops on your preset route, the transportation, restaurants for lunch—though he noticeably had already planned many of the larger events. 

And that's how you arrived here. Rome, Italy. It was as luminous as you left it. You traded in your everyday attire for breathy linen and flowy cotton, allowing the Mediterranean sun to dance across your skin. Your ebony-haired lover was not far behind in fashion, a stark difference from the heavy wools and flannels of his motherland, which you had forced him to leave back in Yokohama so as not to worsen his already weakened constitution. 

The brilliant city held a beauty incomparable, its streets nestled with centuries of history that went beyond books, laid to rest underneath soil and entombed in stone. Even Fyodor, with many years of travel under his belt, couldn't help but admire the manmade structures of a bygone era, which reached like beacons of human ingenuity into the firmament. 

It had been ages since you explored the streets, and it was better now that you had a partner to hold your hand, hopping from place to place as you took in every destination with a new perspective. And in your exploration, you prayed Fyodor would find a connection with some kind of sight, with anything at all. He was a man so distant from mankind that you couldn't help but fret over his self-made isolation.

You were both exhausted—you had been on your feet for hours, and even though he tried to conceal it, you'd be foolish not to notice the slouch of his back as he tried to fight off sleep. He struck you with a knowing look whenever you cooed at him, forcing you to advert your eyes straight out onto the road as you scanned for the vehicle that was supposed to take you to the hotel.

Half an hour passed—nothing. You started to get worried.

"We've been scammed," he said, beating you to the punch as he stood from his seat on the sidewalk. You filled in his place, slumping against a wall as you hid your face in shame—one of the few tasks he had charged you with, and you had managed to mess it up!

He let out a breathy chuckle, patting the back of your head like he were comforting a scolded child. "We'll simply get a taxi."

You groaned, your stomach twisting at the sensation of your own incompetency, before allowing yourself to peek between your fingers to look out into the open world—and that was when you spotted it. A quaint shop with a flickering sign and a handful of mopeds slumped over outside. Fyodor's gaze followed yours, his brows furrowing as he found the target of your ire.

"Absolutely not."

But you had already grabbed onto his hand and pulled him out into the street, with surprisingly little resistance from him as he allowed himself to surrender to your will.

"You haven't experienced everything Rome has to offer," you hummed with a noticeable smirk, tilting your head to gaze at him between your lashes in a mocking attempt to sway his favor. "Come onnnn, Федечка."

He huffed, although his normal stoicism held an unmistakable look of fondness. "Ты маленькая гадюка."

You didn't need a translator to understand the meaning behind his words, heart filled with an almost sadistic joy as you approached the older gentleman that was running the shop. He seemed equally as amused as you were once he deciphered the situation, trading cash for keys as you skipped out the door.

Fyodor had planted himself onto the Vespa's seat without complaint, though you could not help his striking resemblance to a child on a bike that was far too small for them. He had his legs propped at an awkward angle to keep them from scraping against the ground, and the subtle twitch of his brow told you everything you needed to know.

You, on the other hand, were more than comfortable enough to settle between his legs, leaning against his chest as you reveled in the rare domesticality of the moment. That was until two arms decided to slither around your waist, a span of warm breath prickling your skin.

"You're quite brazen for someone that fell right within my grasp," he cooed, his voice dropping into that velvety, sadistically sweet tone that never failed to make you melt. 

The bastard had planned this on purpose—he had reviewed your travel plans beforehand, including the transportation company. Much like you could read him, he knew your story from cover to cover, often reading over every page like his favorite novel. And he knew the best ways to make you squirm, his hand snaking up your side, brushing the sensitive divots of exposed skin as it made its way around your throat, giving the slightest but most lingering of squeezes.

That was until you unintentionally floored the gas pedal, propelling you both onto the street—luckily, there wasn't too much traffic at this hour. Despite the rush of the sudden acceleration, you had found that your heart returned to its normal pace as you moved with a rhythm within the twists and turns. You zipped past various sights, most of which were the most enjoyable, in your opinion—a glimpse into the lives of those who occupied these homes. There was a comfort in the consistency. People had passed and left, but the atmosphere remained the same, passed with care through every generation.

And then, your eyes caught onto something, and the muscles of your fingers instinctively flexed against the handlebars. The arms around your waist squeezed you when you began to tilt the moped steadily to the right.

"Don't—"

But you chose to do it anyway, slipping into a narrow sidestreet. You tried not to burst out in laughter at Fyodor's dumbstruck expression through the wing mirror, wishing to capture this moment in a frame somehow. Who knew that all it took to shut the mouth of the destructive mastermind Demon Fyodor Dostoevsky was a trip on a potentially dangerous vehicle? 

You had recognized the pathway as a detour to an infamous part of the city—a perfect view of the Tiber River. It was difficult not to divert your path straight into the water when you funneled out into the road, the setting sun drawing a picturesque scene that could not be replicated, even if you returned to the same spot at the same time. There would never be another moment like this again. That sweet breeze parted the sky, both cradling and revitalizing you. 

You crept onto a safe spot to park the moped and jumped off to rush to the edge of a bridge that overlooked the entire river, leaning against the railing while being careful not to tip your body over the side. The water sparkled and flickered from the rays of the dying light, twinkling as creatures rested underneath its surface. It enveloped you in an atmosphere of complete calm as if you and Fyodor were the only ones to exist in the world.

Speaking of.

His eyes had drifted toward a view completely different from yours, at least in aspects of physicality. You may have admired a sunset as the peak of fleeting beauty, but you seemed completely unaware that you encompassed every aspect of such a celestial entity, yet in such a strikingly ethereal way. He had seen many sunsets many times, much like he had seen many humans—unique and fascinating in their own way, but not always beautiful. But then, you crashed into his life, and he knew it was always intended for you to remain at his side. Much rarer than a sunset, much more precious.

He would take your life into his hands, ones stained in blood and sin, and unlike all the others he held within his grasp, he would nurture it—cherish it. Like a blossoming flower, he intended to care for you, an invaluable treasure.

He had already found the sight he had been searching for.

"Look!" you exclaimed, practically bouncing as you pointed toward the swaths of fluffed clouds that embellished the sky. "Isn't it gorgeous!"

You didn't even notice the slip of his mask as he joined by your side, brushing a kiss against your temple as he eyed the blooming excitement on your cheeks with your grin. The wind swept through in another attempt to swaddle you, letting the fresh smell of water brush through the folds of your clothes and the tresses of your hair. You turned your gaze to Fyodor, laughter caught in your throat as your eyes peered into his—locked onto you with an almost unnoticeable but most genuine of smiles.

"It truly is."

федечка = fedechka ты маленькая гадюка = you little viper

TAGLIST: @aureatchi @betweensinners @lovedazai @osameowdazai @ruru-kiss @ishqani @zyilas @lovesick-fairy @fedyascoffin @squigglewigglewoo @kelperspelt @miloofc @s1eepybunny @dazaisms @deepseafragments @ajaxism @himikoslove @little-miss-chaoss @justcallmesakira

© MUSAMORA 2024 — do not repost or modify my works for any reason. do not steal graphics w/o explicit permission. reblogs are appreciated.

[ibelievewhatyousaid]

season 5 abnos are here!!!!!!!!!! i’d like to briefly cover them, because oughuehhghhh (sounds of pain) i’m so excited…..!!!!

hurting teddy bear!! given to sinclair and rodya and subsequently donqui!

so, i think it’s important to mention that hurting teddy bear is a little different from happy teddy bear, at their core they do share longing for connection and hurting those around you. happy teddy bear deals with the yearning in abandonment, being left behind it grows attached and possessive of what it has left and it turn hurts those it can finally grasp as its own.. makes sense angela got it, yeah! but, hurting teddy bear doesn’t specifically mention abandonment, in fact the encounter points out once or twice that it has spent a very long time in pain, “it is an empty void,” in a literal sense and metaphorically and, “perhaps it is unable to feel pain.” there’s a huge focus, both design, encounter and choices that it doesn’t quite “long,” the same way happy teddy bear does, if the other holds out enough hope to embrace and hold tight to not be left again, hurting teddy bear doesn’t even try, all it does is leak and bleed. i think the dichotomy of the names shows this as well, despite the sorrows of happy teddy bear it still IS a happy teddy bear. hurting teddy bear has always, for as long as it can remember, been hurting and yearning for something it won’t have.

i think this plays into the three before differently, sinclair obviously was close to his family before the dissonance he feels later in life, he mentions how he enjoyed and fond comfort in them eating together, sinclair doesn’t strike himself as being very close to his peers, either, in which kromer and damien are seemingly the only two others in his school that draw importance. unlike the weight he gives his family and why their changes grow uncertainty in him. his “world fo light,” is directly his family, by the push of kromer does he enter the “other side,” i think his resonance with the abnormality is born from seemingly losing that innocence (much like a teddy bear being outgrown and left) and that “world,” he loved. unlike lobcorp’s bear, there is no hope here, why would there be? he’s lost his family and he lost them far before their actual deaths. he was drifting from that idyllic fantasy for awhile, he feels thrust upon the world, forcefully taken from his egg before hatching and told to fly. he’s longing for that connection again, to feel the warmness, when he didn’t know how the world was, but that won’t come to be. he’s attached to something long gone.

now, rodya’s is interesting! especially the animation difference and her general demeanor. rodya has “broken,” her charade before in ids AND ego, there is a specific reason why hers looks so cheerful! her animations include her almost puppeteering, i think this is to play into the fact rodion can’t be honest to herself, she knows how reality is, in all aspects— she knows she’s not special, she’s not a hero, nor is she “elite,” (which just comes.. more and more clear as events pass, war hero? vampire noble? random rookie with some blessing mark to be a leader? what is she, just some poor backstreet resider?) rodya is clearly mournful of her situation, even if she doesn’t admit it, the faces of people she knew are trapped in ice and she refuses to defrost their memories of identities, she can’t and won’t accept the consequences of her actions because that would be admitting she wasn’t all that. rodya refuses to drop her appeasing persona because she has prided herself on being someone worth this weight of “team’s support,” she likes being seen as inflatable and needed, i mean, if she wasn’t there to crack a joke here imagine how dark the room would be..?

rodya clearly longs for connections, her relationship with sonya is obvious to that, but, even when sonya hands her out the perfect out, free of any pain and suffering, (well if no one can lose, how can rodion win?) and no judgement— rodya throws herself out into the cold to be miserable juuuust awhile longer. it makes since that despite her longing for connection she won’t succumb to that unsightly attachment, she plays above it, and manipulates it, too. you can see the puppeting as multiple things, that as much as rodion can care people around her, they will always be at expense of her safety in her act or that she plays with her own outwards image and puppets it into something appealing to her. either way, i don’t think they’re “wrong.”!

DON QUIXOTEEEEEE. i feel insane thinking about her, don longs for connection— this is kind of obvious, it’s subtle but don mentions “compatriotes,” and “companions,” frequently, the only other sinner whose put such a focus on friends is yi sang. all of don quixote is about the people around him, specifically people playing into his fantasy to “cure,” him, even as he tries hard to get people to play into his delusions (i.e, his truth, really) people hold it over his head to drag him to his senses or mock him. don quixote is quite fond of the sinners, we see her care in multiple instances, as early as canto three she’s the first person to step in, and even has an honest and true moment with sinclair, it wasn’t born to start violence or because he had done something wrong (really, donqui of all people would support going wild on evil fiends.. motwe guys!!) she did it because she knew it wasn’t what he actually wanted. in canto four she throws herself into the explosion to save the other sinners, dongrang puts it: “it must be the faith that they will come back to life at any time that prompted them to jump into danger without hesitation. not out of any sort of friendship or affinity... isn’t that right?” meursault, who also jumped in, declares that it was simply the most logical situation to protect dante and keep the mission going but don isn’t ABLE to answer, you could say this is simply because it was the “righteous” thing to do, but dongrang pointing out how it “couldn’t have been friendship,” backfires that point. donqui spends all their time on the boat worrying about yi sang, in heathcliff’s distortion logs she tries to praise him and put things lightly, she wants to be around the sinners like asking to play chess with sinclair or reading the news with meursault or wanting to cosplay with heathcliff!

this is a long tangent, but these are all very small moments, but it’s important to get across how integral bonds are to donqui, especially added into the context of her familia as a vampire. don quixote longs for human connection, but she cannot have it, we don’t know her general background or reasons why, but even AS don quixote, she isn’t understood, she’s deemed inconvenient, insane, she wants people to understand her, but none have ever tried. when ishmael tells her she’s sick of hearing about her delusions and “isn’t about time you finally woke up?” it stuns Don into silence and being uncomfortable. even disregarding the natural line between her being a “monster,” looked down by society, her “human persona,” isn’t able to be loved properly either.

ROSE HUNTER..!! okay, i actually called this abno (same with carmilla but that was quite later) but it makes perfect sense! rose hunter is about, you’ll never get this, a rose hunter hunting down an apple, an apple that is destined to be a princess one day. the apple tries to hide (to different layers of success depending on choices) and the rose hunter is insistent on dragging them back into their proper course. “stories must follow their natural courses,” / “if this is what the story dictates, i will have to follow it.” now i won’t go too much into faust and hong lu because we don’t have their cantos, but it definitely fits their perceived roles, for hong lu that is his family, he doesn’t fight the instances or unfairness, as seen in tkt, he seemingly accepts it all as it comes, at least on the surface, of just being how things are. same with faust, although you can take it as her connection to mephi and faust’s deal with the devil and the plans that started limbus, seemingly being the connector and getting the ball rolling for limbus and setting up every sinner, her line of, “we both know our places,” in tkt really emphasis this. faust doesnt have much autonomy, she simply does her role and keeps it moving, by her words with donqui’s reveal, limbus has everything planned out pretty consistently, and she seems to just be the messenger. that’s what makes rose hunter so fascinating, as much as it traps others in the story, it itself is trapped in its role! now with don quixote! i think don fits both as the rose hunter and apple, don tailors her world into very black and white thinking, she draws people into playing along, at least in her head, things are very one way or the other, either you are acceptable or not. when people break her fantasy she dejects them off, her switching between red gaze and vergilius based on whether he still meets her expectations, to donqui it’s her world and we’re all living in it. that’s naturally the hunter, how knights must exist and be righteous, they must save the weak and they must continue to exist. they have to, to her. and you either fulfill that role or face wrath from her. now, she fits the apple even more so i say, given the plot of both man of la mancha and don quixote. the entire time is them trying to drag him home, they play into his fantasy in aims to manipulating him home. he HAS a role to play, and it’s not that. i think it’s even more prominent with how bloodfiends are written about, a “stageplay,” faust says, and how cassetti breaks and renters his role of “prince,” even though he ran home, he can’t drop that act. he’s afraid of being found again. now adding that to don quixote’s plot line, she’s ran off to become a “righteous fixer,” but she has a role to fulfill, she has a way this must play out. she already is someone, if

this is a somewhat unrelated tangent but i also think “princess,” is quite interesting parallel given don’s appearance, hers directly mirrors dulcinea’s description: blonde hair, rosy cheeks, eyes like suns (orangeish eyes as well as stars in them! which what are suns if not stars?) with other lines like her peasant talk in korean and addressing dante with higher respect. there’s a lot of more stuff, I’m not saying don = dulcinea, but, i think it’s an intriguing connecting nonetheless! pm is very intentional with character design.

carmilla! the star of the show, really. it’s so, so beautiful, and i’m hyperfocusing on donqui here, (sorry meursault)

OKAY, first, the ego being named “yearning mircalla” which is carmilla’s real name, the yearning is important because carmilla wanted to be understood and loved by the women she formed bonds with, she yearned for that love and relationship. meursault and donqui fit because of that desire too, meursault in the stranger feels ostracized by people around him, like he doesn’t “fit in,” right. he follows the motions and indulges in societal expectations but he can’t quite ever “fool” anyone into thinking he’s someone like them. don quixote is naturally like this, he is unable to be understood or seen as a person with autonomy and reasons, he runs away from home because alonso is very much miserable from his life, that was his escapism. this works double time with don quixote being a bloodfiend, a lot of bloodfiend context we’ve gotten has focused on them being animalistic, monstrous, a “twisted” being that once was human. sasha is desperate to live and pleads for her life, cassetti says him and all other bloodfiends are disgusted with themselves, elena says she must be longed to be an ordinary human once again. they’ve given up their honor and faith in efforts to survive, and it’s a burden quite heavy— all their humanity.

the way their designs are different is really telling, i’m kind of mind blown how great don’s is, meursault, by all accounts, is still human. donqui has sharp nails, red eyes, slits in them, meursault lacks all these designs, he’s still just.. him. meursault has a rose covering his eye, a wrap around of vines on his head. but that’s it. don quixote in comparison has thorns all around her, in fact they’re coming OUT of her, the top of her head, it isn’t a headband, theirs thorns seemingly piercing out of her skull, including the blood stains on her hair where they lay. her boots are entrapped in thorns, to the point “the thorns,” and “her,” are one in the same, it’s so visually blurry especially in the animations that they LOOK like one huge mass of danger. thorns pierce out of her on every angle and they trap her. meursault is still human, despite it all, (at least from what we know??? but safe to say!) even through his disconnect of humanity, he, nonetheless, is apart of it. the flower blocks out his vision from maybe even seeing the truth of that, too blurred to get the whole picture, this looming thought he is abnormal. while don, from her every being, isn’t one. the vines and flower on meursault are a whole separate entity. donqui IS the flower, she is the rose, she is the thorns, they’re born from her and escape her, they hold her hostage and work as her. she isn’t human, she can’t be, and the abno drives that point home, she is the danger and the abnormality in society— to draw back into the “could’ve been something beautiful,” line in the encounter, a rose is beautiful, to the point people forget about the thorns. but the rose won’t, because, it isn’t “the rose” and “the thorns,” they’re the same being. even in meursault’s disconnect of being human, he IS one. don quixote’s disconnect can’t be soothed, because she isn’t, and it’s clear as day. (Also fun fact, meursault’s rose is bleeding down, but donqui’s is clearly being controlled by her like bloodfiends do! another blaring difference.) with the context of don BEING the rose and its thorns, it makes the destructive smash of it even more palpable.

that’s all my thoughts I could remember! i probably have more that just escaped me. sorry for any misspellings and whatnot, I’m just soooooo excited for canto 7, I’m !!!$2?!3!&??!! Love don so much im excited to see how it plays out (<- haunted by questions. why is there an orb there?)

[covn]

Tree of Void Emanation

The void of non-being emanates existence through a generative process and pattern which produces systems of increasing complexity and representative power. At the twelfth emanation we reach what is likely a limit of usefulness in balance with complexity.

Each emanation builds contains and is connected to the previous emanations. The term “sphere” is used as is common in platonic and qabalistic systems as an to reference the formative principles of each emanation. The term “path” describes the connections between the spheres.

Each sphere is counted in two ways, once by sequence starting from zero and again by prime number starting from one. Zero and one represent the identity functions of addition and multiplication. Each subsequent is then given its own sigil which is produced from merging the numeric sigils of its sequence and prime. The pronunciations of the spheres are similarly generated by combining the pronunciations of these numbers.

From this numeric skeleton the story of manifestation is developed upon it both as structured metaphor and ontological framework. Exploration of this framework reveals formulas and techniques for relating to and manipulating reality through the arts of magick.

Chaos 0⋮1 - nĕsh-hĭn - /nɛʃ.hɪn/

Existence emerges spontaneously and without reason from Void. Existence requires no reason. As the Void has no quality whatsoever it is in no way restricted making it the root generative force. This is the fundamental nature of existence. It is spontaneous and without purpose or design. All possibilities assert themselves into being at once, each becoming a “one”, a unity of existence unto itself while retaining nothing in itself.

Process 1⋮2 - hĕzh-ēsh - /hɛʒ.iʃ/

That which asserts itself into being does not exhaust possibility. Every aspect of being is incomplete, retaining its relation to void while constraining and permitting that which may follow. Each emmanation leaves space for the next emmanation so that the process may continue. All connection is made possible by what is left undetermined and reality is never fully manifest.

Pattern 2⋮3 - ēs-ŭzh - /is.ʌʒ/

As the process of manifestation proceeds the shape of the unmanifest spaces influences that which may follow. This causes patterns to arise that unify the discrete units of being. Though each is completely free and separate, they are also manifest as a unified pattern. It is precisely because of incompleteness that these units are able to also become a new unity.

Form 3⋮5 - ŭm-o͞os - /ʌm.us/

Within pattern there emerge forms defined by the pattern and yet independent within it. For example, 5 & 7 are a twin prime pair as they are both prime with a difference of 2. Other twin primes pairs include 11 & 13, 17 & 19, 29 & 31. All prime pairs greater than 3 & 5 have the property of having their sum being evenly divisible by 12. This form of a “prime pair” is well known in mathematics but primeness, divisibility, and addition were not in any way defined in order to produce this form. Number emanates the form of the prime pair. Likewise we may take nearly any game and learn its rules rather quickly, but to learn a strategy is an entirely different matter. Games like Chess or Go give rise to whole vocabularies for naming forms within them. Though the rules teach us how to play, one must become familiar with these forms to play well.

Change 4⋮7 - ăou-chăz - /aʊ̯.t͡ʃæz/

Manifestation may stop at Form to make a complete but static world. The universe of number is a perfect example of static manifestation. Alternately manifestation may remain forever in flux, manifesting and collapsing back into the unmanifest. This gives rise to time and change. Further manifestation takes on a destructive aspect as forms that were can now also cease to be. We move up a level in our analysis to describe types of change and change itself becomes a new type of form. The mathematically inclined may find it useful to meditate on the relationship of a mathematical function and its derivative.

Self 5⋮11 - o͞or-fĕm - /uɹ.fɛm/

In the flow of change through time forms emerge which influence change in order to sustain themselves. These forms are agents of change. Like the first cellular organisms self-organizing around volcanic vents on the ocean floor in the chemical soup of the earth’s ancient oceans. The basic aspect of these agents is homeostasis. These agents direct change to create a dynamic constant. As these agents guide change we may now call this activity Will. In the fullness of emanation we come to identify one of these agents with the self.

Sense 6⋮13 - jŏth-tŏi - /d͡ʒɑθ.tɔɪ/

Agents may be blind actors, no more than a self-catalyzing reaction, or the agent may develop the capability of sensing and reacting to its environment. Sense is the essential element of the encounter of that which is beyond the self. It is the beginning of external self-organization that leads to external manifestation. It is an echo of Process yielded through the incompleteness of the agent.

Thought 7⋮17 - chō-kou - /t͡ʃoʊ.kaʊ̯/

If what is sensed leaves its mark upon the agent then we find the seed for the emergence of representational systems. The agent can now experience itself in time, forming memories, and gains the ability to not just change behavior based on current circumstance but also based on past learning. These internal marks can then be sensed and manipulated and so give rise to symbol, language, and communication.

Desire 8⋮19 - ät-thĕl - /ɑt.θɛl/

Having formed memory the agent now is able to experience the external as something to be sought after or avoided. Want and fear and all the aspects of emotional attachment emerge. Desire attaches the agent to the external and so opens a channel for the external to truly manifest. It is attachment to the world that makes the world. We regard this as a positive development, an overcoming of the limited solipsistic self through desire.

Object 9⋮23 - ĕ-pĕp - /ɛ.pɛp/

Through desire the agent manifests the objectively real. The external is truly manifest beyond whatever sense, thoughts, or desires the agent may hold regarding it, so completing the self-overcoming of the agent. The objective binds the agent while also making possible the emergence of the next level of agency within objective reality. The agent has surrendered its naive omnipotence in its embrace of a new greater level of being in which it only has marginal and indirect power in exchange for a greater state of being.

Subject 10⋮29 - vŭ-sōb - /vʌ.soʊb/

The manifestation of objective reality allows the agent to itself become a manifest object. By surrendering itself into objectivity and becoming limited the agent is able to enter into a space where it can come into authentic contact with other agents manifest as other subjects. Each aspect of the agent obtains and is constrained by a physical correlation. For us humans, this is our brains. Every thought, sense element, and desire is within our brains and is lost to us with disruption of this fragile tissue.

Kia 11⋮31 - fĕ-shĕr - /fɛ.ʃɛɹ/

Kia is the void which remains within manifestation. In the twelfth tree all has manifested and yet Nothing remains. This Nothing is experienced as consciousness, free will, and ecstasy. More than that, Kia is the basis of having any experience whatsoever. All of the aspects of manifestation through the agent can carry on quite well without any conscious experience or free choice within it. In dreamless sleep and in normal waking when on auto-pilot Kia retreats. Kia manifests as the absurd, wonder, the presence of the undefined and unknown. Kia can arise in quiet contemplation, ecstatic overload, and in many ways that open the fundamental questions of being.

[glassica]

The Man of Your Dreams

Notes: M!yan spirit x F!reader, paranormal, reincarnation, implication of death & murder, supernatural, lucid dream, possession, sexual acts, implication of masturbation

Some nights, when you still lying awake alone on mattress, you could’ve heard the sound of banging on door and knob turning over incessantly. “It’s just the wind,” your roommate shrugged. Make sense, but you couldn’t brush off the feeling that someone is trying to enter the room.

Then some times later those eerie sounds stopped and finally you could put aside that unexplained fear for good. This was also around the time you started dreaming about a strange man. Not so model-handsome, but certainly charming and approachable. Right at first meeting you knew he was the perfect kind of lover you wished for. Even as dreams, the exchanges were more dynamic and effortless than with any dates you went to in real life. He was attentive to your thoughts, always recalled what brings you joys or sorrows, even the hidden secrets you had yet open up. It was safe to conclude he know more about you than yourself.

Dreams of him. Once every few months. Then fortnight. Then weekly. And now was every nights. You had discarded the real world. No longer looked forward to the first light of new day, your true life began when moon hung amidst sparkling stars and the mind drifted away into the dreamland, into his warm presence. So what if he was just an illusion, a likely product of subconsciousness? When he wrapped you tightly against chest, adorning on your neck thousands of butterfly kisses before taking off the fabrics witheld the treasure he’d craved to taste it whole. When he bit and sucked senselessly your nipple while pinching the other til both were pinky, harderned and wet in saliva. When his shaft hurriedly drilled in and out yours from the back while hands busy squeezing pair of dough so reddened from someone’s loving slaps. By the time waking up, panties embarrassingly sloppy and the tip of fingers solidated from you-know-what. Your roommates teased, what kind of wild thoughts you’d been entertaining lately?

But soon the teasing turned to clear concern. Forget close circles, everyone you met outside could sense the lifelessness of your manners. They started noticing the fatigue evident on those eye bags, the back hunched over and footsteps dragging wearily on floor. It was difficult to put in words, but it seemed as if the soul of yours was draining day by day, metaphorically and literally. You skipped classes, declined hangouts, even stopped visiting home on weekends just to get more sleeps. To get more time with him. 

So the roommates sat you down. They were glad your all-nighters had ended, nevertheless everything too much wasn’t good. Did you suffered from any illnesses or troubles, and if you needed to see doctors. In response you just waved hand with disinterest. Why should they care? It wasn’t that serious!

“You know love, my friends and family are so annoying. They keep nagging me that I sleep too much, when just some times ago it was also them telling me to stop competing with owls!”

You rolled over, nuzzling your face in his chest. It was after another steamy round, the two laid there cuddling, letting yourselves soaked in each other’s gentle warmth. Like always, you began telling him about things happened in real world, though you barely remember what your days were like anymore.

“In other words they want you to spend less time on your lover,” he chuckled, rubbing his hand on your back, “I told you so. They are a jealous, petty bunch. Not worth anything.”

“Um, that’s kinda harsh. I’m bothered by their scolding but that doesn’t mean I don’t get them. It’s true that I’ve been neglecting myself in reality a lot now.”

“...”

You got that chills running down the shivers again. Yes you were well aware how this man reacted to you defending your close people in real life, but wasn’t it time for him to start warming up on them?

…Nevermind, you should said something to distract him instantly. It was pure wish-fulfillment to hope he could be civil about your friends and family, please give up.

“A- Anyways, I’ve thought about this for long. Isn’t it tragic that we can’t see each other outside of dreams?”

“Indeed. If I could, I would’ve met and snatched you from these pests earlier,” he pulled your chin up, forcing your mouth opened for a wet kiss, “but God wasn’t fair. I wasn’t allowed to reincarnated on human’s realm again. That’s why I could only pine after you mindlessly as a lost spirit.”

“You don’t remember, but we were a couple in our previous lives. On your deathbed, I had sworn to find and keep you tight if we were to reborn in this world. You may look different from your past life, but I recognized your soul immediately. I’m such a wonderful partner, no?! I’m hurt that you went on dates with those worthless stupid guys when you had an amazing husband right there!” 

His words were sweet like honey, but the tone suggested otherwise. You thought you’d seen the worst of his madness, but that staled in comparison to the storm reflecting on his pupils. Towering on your body and both arms putting down beside your head resembling a cage, for the first time ever did you ever had an accurate visualization of how facing a devil feels like. 

“Well but you already know, I didn’t, or more like, couldn’t reborn. My soul is forced to wander on living realm for who knows how long. In the mean time, you will move on, you will marry some idiot, have kids, pass away for a second time in front of my own eyes, and I still not get out of this limbo!” - he growled angrily, thumbs caressing your neck, “So maybe, maybe if we can’t reunite in this life, you could join me instead. It’s okay. As long as we are together. As long as you stay by my side. As long as you’re forever mine.”

He tightened his grip on your neck.

Next morning, your family opened the phones to see hundreds of missed calls and texts from the roommates. Everyone woke up, except you.

[punkpandapatrixk]

[PPA Masterlist] [corresponding PAC]

🧝🏻‍♀️Mystical Glow-Up Secrets ★ Concept Affirmations

🧝🏻‍♀️manifesting from the Spirit🧝🏻‍♀️

I manifest a spiritual glow-up of the highest Divine Order. I now manifest a spiritually perfect self-concept. I recall at this moment my True Divine Form. I infuse my physical Body with attributes of my True Divine Form in Spirit. My eyes reflect the beauty of my Soul. My skin is radiant with Light and with information from my Cosmic Ancestral Lineage. My hair is encoded with my True Spiritual Blueprint. I unlock the codes to my True Spiritual Blueprint. Every aspect of my physical Body is made beautiful by the spiritual thoughts I maintain every day. I infuse my psychology and mentality with thoughts of the highest Spiritual Order.

🧝🏻‍♀️SYNK in with MY AE🧝🏻‍♀️

Everything I see in the physical world is mere metaphor for aenergy. I manipulate this physical Reality by synchronising with my ae. My Spirit; my ae; my chi; my inner prana; my orgone; my state of perpetual meditation. I SYNK in with my ae now and remember my True Form. I bring back memories of my True Form to my physical avatar. I encode my Mind and Body with superior genes from my Cosmic Ancestral Heritage. I unveil right here what’s been hidden from me. I expand in Consciousness. I alter the way I am represented in the physical world to better reflect who I am at the core of my spiritual Essence. I recall all fragments of my True Spiritual Beauty in all formats back to me. Back to me. All the good that I am on the inside and outside, all back to me.

🧝🏻‍♀️breaking the fourth wall🧝🏻‍♀️

I am a Spiritual Being having a Human Experience. I acknowledge my participation in this Grand Experiment. I am having fun. I am learning. And most importantly, I am winning. I reclaim my True Spiritual Essence. I reclaim right here and right now the highest, purest form of my Soul Expression available for expression in a Physical Human Form. I reclaim the goodest goods. I reclaim my God/Goddess Ancestry. I unlock the secrets of my History and Heritage. I now rise up to my glow-up of the highest Divine Order. I rise above the imprisonment of the false Matrix. My glow-up defies logic. My glow-up breaks the fourth wall. I erase inferior genes and add superior genes. My glow-up ignores the Laws of Physicality. I magically transform into the most magnetic being to walk on Earth. I am the most beautiful person in accordance to my own highest standards.

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

[Patreon] [Paid Readings]

[agentarc]

fox headcanons for the fic i might actually try to write

this is copy-pasted from notes app so the formatting is gonna be weird

fox autism and mental health HCs

- difficulty understanding his own emotions. he can’t describe what he’s feeling. if asked to elaborate, he might describe things ineloquently, or using metaphors

- sometimes struggles to understand other people’s emotions. he’s not very in tune with his own, and he finds it hard to relate to others in general. it’s easier with clones, but for natborns it’s a lost cause.

- afraid of Feeling His Feelings. he’s always staving off a mental breakdown, and thus can’t afford to Feel and have the dam break, because if he has a breakdown he Will Die. (he doesn’t know anything about panic attacks or meltdowns — he just thinks he’s defective. since he can’t afford to be anything less than perfect, he has taken every measure possible to keep the breakdowns behind the dam.)

- his facial expressions don’t always match the emotion he’s feeling

- doesn’t know how to show love and affection in a “normal” way. his way of loving is to keep everyone safe and healthy, even at the expense of himself, and even at the expense of others outside of his family.

- touch-adverse and touch-starved at the same time. (he’s afraid of touching people in part because he worries he’ll corrupt them with his wrongness)

- pressure and dark, enclosed spaces are very comforting

- stimming habit. he thinks it’s unbecoming (and so did his trainers as a cadet) and thus has tried to train it out of himself, but he still falls back on certain low-key stimming habits when he’s focused or not paying attention to himself.

- control freak

- meticulously tidy, though his own hygiene is lacking

- forgets / doesn’t know how to take care of himself

- food-adverse. can only tolerate one variety of ration bars and they’re not always available. he survives off forced bites and caf. (potential to explore other types of food? ration bars are safe and familiar, but we might explore other safe foods after the war is over…)

- dissociation — sometimes he doesn’t feel real and he doesn’t know how to articulate that. it feels wrong in every way, but it keeps the paralyzing breakdowns at bay so he has started using it as a coping mechanism. he feels like he’s on autopilot, like he’s making these decisions from a faraway place and isn’t quite tethered to his body. if he has to appear normal while actively panicking, he’s probably dissociated to some extent, not allowing himself to come to terms with the reality of whatever’s going on, allowing autopilot to take over. (he doesn’t like to think about it, and might spiral if forced to address it)

- strange relationship to pain. it makes sense to him, and he finds it grounding. it can tether him when he’s dissociating. not only is it the body’s natural way of saying it’s injured, but it can also be a befitting consequence or punishment, which he genuinely thinks he deserves. (he knows this applies to him and him only — he’s always been different from other clones) (maybe he has a deep scar somewhere accessible with his armor on, and pressing on it causes pain or numbness. wrist? palm? maybe one if his habits is repeatedly clenching his fist in a way that presses on it)

- self-mutilation, like knuckle biting, skin picking, digging his fingernails into his arm, exacerbating existing injuries

- he feels like a droid, or like he wishes he was a droid. he knows he’s not, but sometimes thinks it would be easier to maintain his body. during dissociation or breakdowns, he might use pain or blood to remind him that he’s still human

- compulsion to *fix*. he is always there for his brothers, not only because it’s his duty as commander and as ori’vod, but because his brothers are the most important thing in the world to him. without his purpose as his brothers’ keeper, he has zero self-worth. when things start getting harder, he will have more trouble coming up with the solution and it will seriously upset him. he will also get confused and frustrated when his vode don’t come to him with their issues — he’ll believe it’s because he’s a failure of an ori’vod. later, after the collapse, he will be so burnt out that anyone having any expectation of him at all will be triggering. (or maybe the opposite is true — not having orders or a direction leaves him floundering and he will spiral and spiral. could be that both are true, that he needs orders or a job or something, but anything outside the scope of his ability or mental capacity will cause a stress breakdown)

- trust issues. he can’t be vulnerable with pretty much anyone at all — at least he won’t if he can help it — and will never be fully relaxed in the company of people he doesn’t explicitly know and trust.

- paranoid. every single thing out of place is a threat.

- hates crowds

- hates people looking at him without his armor on. he always feels exposed and vulnerable, and he’s ashamed of all the scars he has. since his job is supposed to be “the easiest of the entire GAR,” he thinks there’s no excuse to be so scarred, and the only reason he would be is because he can’t defend himself adequately. plus, if he’s asked about his scars, it’s not really easy to explain that they’re from the red guard beating the shit out of him for fun

- hates the sonics because of the sound, and also because of the freshers’ communal nature. he will only shower at odd hours, and usually has one of the other commanders guard the door.

personality HCs

- as a cadet, and at the beginning of the war, fox was a cunning trickster and full of chaos. he becomes quieter and more worn down as the war continues.

- he loves mischief and fun, but at this point in his life has forgotten how to have fun. when he was a cadet, his slyness and cunning made him the perfect prankster. if he ever went too far and hurt or offended someone, cody would step in and tell fox to apologize, which fox does. he’s never meant to hurt anyone with his tricks.

- he doesn’t necessarily tell jokes, but his dry wit and sarcasm and his darker sense of humor makes him pretty funny sometimes

- although he would never admit it, he absolutely loves being surrounded by his brothers while they’re having a good time. he rarely joins in on the fun, bogged down by stress and illness, but wishes he could. regardless, he loves to soak up the good vibes, and his brothers laughing and happy is one of the only things that makes his heart soar.

- chronically tired

- chronically freezing cold

- chronically stressed tf out. he’s been under so much stress for so long that he’s been permanently shaped by it.

- outwardly, he’s all cold durasteel walls and ruthless determination. he’s meticulously neat, always demonstrating perfect form, his armor polished to a shine. an unstoppable force who will overcome any immovable object. he’s capable of making the hard choices and doing whatever it takes. anyone who doesn’t know him well enough will assume that he’s an uptight, hard-ass, self-righteous jerk who cares only about orders and duty, even at the expense of brothers. because of this, he’s not a popular or well-liked clone. (this bothers him a lot more than he lets on.)

- in reality, the safety and wellbeing of ALL brothers is his highest priority. he’s most loyal to those in his circle, and because of the position he’s in, it can appear as though he doesn’t care about anyone else.

- fox loves and cares so deeply that it IS the core of who he is. everything he does is for his family, even if his actions seem at odds with that.

- he trusts seldomly, but deeply. he is not relaxed with anyone he doesn’t trust, and sometimes STILL isn’t trusting enough to relax.

- he’s affectionate in his own way, which is to say non-traditionally. his way of taking care of people is to make sure everyone’s taken care of, taking care of themselves, and following rules. with certain vode, he may offer touch as comfort.

- has a very impressive sabacc face, although he’s pretty much always panicking over something. if he’s actively panicking but has to appear normal, he will most likely be dissociated to some extent.

- when in commander mode, he looks calm and collected, with an appropriate amount of urgency. he’s quick-thinking, cunning and clever, sharp-tongued and decisive, and in complete control. if he’s having a particularly rough time, anyone who doesn’t know him well enough wouldn’t be able to tell. closer vode can pick up on his subtle tells.

- a low-key stressed but relaxing fox is very subdued. small grins, wisecracks and one-liners, snickering along, but on the quiet side.

- a truly happy fox throws his head back when he laughs and smiles with all his teeth. his eyes are bright and sharp and full of mischief. he’s much more willing to initiate physical contact, and even grab a brother to wrestle playfully.

- when he’s having a rough one, he’s barbed and unreachable. he says nasty things and never means them, wanting to push others away.

- he’s always busy. he always has an insurmountable workload. when too overwhelmed, he will shut down, become paralyzed and be unable to complete anything at all, triggering a meltdown.

- a truly relaxed fox is boneless. for once in his life, he’s not on the move.

- under different circumstances, a happy fox would be nearly as busy as he is at this point, but on his own terms instead. he’d be doing stuff with his hands, filling his time with jobs and projects.

- allergic to downtime. he always has to be busy. if something needs to be done, he will be unable to relax until it’s done. if there’s nothing to do, he will either create more work for himself or start spiraling.

[gojoswhitebabydolllashes]

Let death be kinder than any x-men

Logan howlett x reader

---

ERRRRM I WOULD SAY DEADPOOL AND WOLVERINE SPOILERS BUT WERE IN DAYS OF FUTURE PAST🦅😃

-

Warnings: I still don't know 😭 the reader makes a massive mistake. Idek if this is how xaviers powers work but wtv. Major Canon divergence. 🎶 represents when Charles is talking to reader in their head.

-

I know that sometimes I ask for too much sometimes. And I think today I did. It really does depend on how you define mistakes.

I knew Charles would help me. How did I know that the 21 year old version of my old professor 60 years in the future would help me? Because I just knew Charles Xavier like that.

"You want me to what?" He scratched his jaw.

"I want you to get inside logan's head and tell me what he's thinking of," I gulped and leant against the wall.

I could only tell that this would have consequences beyond my understanding. Beyond perhaps what anyone could really understand.

"I can try. I would ask why you need this, but I already know," he grinned with his lips high to his nose.

I scoffed a laugh and looked out into the city through the trees. Dark lights and fireflies. Night-time and fireworks. Onyx that encased sparks of all colours.

"So you'll help me?"

"Of course I will. What else do have to do in this damn world?"

-

🧠

There was this one time at the mansion when I punched Scott summers in the mouth for telling Logan he was a coward. I let him drip blood on the floor and make noises of pain as he held his painful jaw that would be bruised and red by tomorrow.

"Don't you ever fucking say that shit again"

-

It was a warm night, though still cool enough for a bonfire. Even though we were supposed to be in the middle of a fight with the sister of the man, I was sitting beside and saving the other mutants, we had collectively agreed, Wade and I, that a night to sit here wouldn't hurt. And convincing Logan was not easy, but he pulled through with an offer of whiskey.

After a while, Wade passed out, and Charles was minding his own business on the grass, when we asked what he was up to he replied 'I'm on the phone' but he had no phone in sight, and it took Logan a few seconds to realise.

I didn't know what to say to Logan. I didn't feel like saying anything or if anything would even work. He probably doesn't want to say anything either. After our altercation in the void, I didn't know what the fuck was going on anymore. I wanted to ask about it, but I was afraid his answer would be exactly as I thought.

"I didn't mean it" he said suddenly "what I said in the void, I didn't mean it"

It had genuinely shook me that he was first to bring it up.

"Oh," I said. "I was gonna ask you what happened, but I wasn't sure if anytime was going to be right"

Logan chuckled. For an unknown reason, he just did and sipped his drink. "Anytime after I die is perfect for these kinds of things"

I tried to smile and act like I was cool but in reality I was dying inside. I was screaming kicking and crying and throwing up and tearing adamantium bars off jail cells.

"I don't know what came over me," he admitted. "The truth is in my universe my wife was experimented on by scientists. Fuckin mad men"

I couldn't tell in the light, mostly because I wasn't looking at him but I could hear it. He started to tear up. I could hear the tightness in his throat, the strain on his voice.

"And-" He stuttered.

"And do you know what the worst part is?"

I don't.

I should. I feel like I should. But I shouldn't. I couldn't. I didn't want to know. Or did I?

🎶 "You do"

"What's the worst part Logan?"

"They did it right in front of me. Right in fuckin front of me!" He lurched forward and slashed one of the trees, causing it to fall in threes.

He panted. Growled. Boiled with rage that set the ground alight in metaphorical fire. Raging flames, like wildfire. Upset and grief that acted fuel.

"It's not your fault, logan" I said softly

"BUT IT IS!" He yelled back at me.

He put his claws away and sighed, looking away for a moment to catch his breath "I'm sorry"

"It's alright" I replied

Logan rubbed his face "Let's call it a truce. I swear I won't try to turn you into shredded meat again" he held out his hand.

"Sure. No shredded meat" I put my hand in his, shaking it.

They were fucking hairy and calloused. And heavy. Maybe the world's manliest hands. And veiniest. Fuck what am I doing?

"No shredded meat" he repeated

And we both laughed