#the sren?
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ayoitswren · 9 months ago
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BEHOLD THE WREN SONA
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citadelofmythoughts · 3 months ago
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Watching the V8 finale again made me wonder.
How do you think RWB would’ve coped in Vacuo if none of them had fallen after Yang?
Add-on: How do you think a married Blake or Yang would deal if their partner passed prematurely? Would they live the rest of their lives fulfilled with the happy memories or Try to move on after a period of time (date, re-marry, etc)?
Biggest add-on: How would your SREN family deal with losing Blake or Yang?
(I think this might be the most EVIL RWBY ask I've ever gotten)
Not well. I know I've said it before but Yang is the heart of Team RWBY. She's Ruby's big sister/surrogate mother figure, Weiss' best friend and Blake's true love.
Losing her would be devastating. I mean, RWB being who they are, they would rally and do what they need to do to protect Remnant and fight Salem but the light would be gone, the joy.
Blake of course, would likely never recover, not fully and if Neo dared show her face, it'd be over for her.
For the second part: I am convinced that Blake and Yang are each other's "the one" - after everything they went through, finding each other, losing each other, multiple times. I can't see anyone else filling that void.
And for the third:
Sandy and Rose would not take losing either of their parents well. Unlike many characters in RWBY, they've had a happy and secure home life with their mothers. It's been a home full of love, laughter and happiness. So to lose that would wreck the girls. They've got so many friends and family, their aunts (Ruby, Laffy, Weiss, Penny) would do their best to help and so would their grandparents (Ghira, Kali, Raven and even Tai) and their girlfriends would help too but it would hurt for a long time.
Sandy in particular doesn't deal with grief well. The rest of Team SREN would have a big job ahead of them trying to support their leader.
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serennes-art · 8 days ago
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moved from twt to bsky here: serennesart.bsky.social
been pretty inactive this year, but maybe having a fresh start will encourage me to post more :)
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vintageurovision · 2 months ago
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Pridi, Dala Ti Bom Cvet, Eva Sršen | Yugoslavia Yugoslavia, Eurovision Song Contest 1970
11th place with 4 points
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drainbangle · 2 years ago
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Rating: Teen and Up Audiences Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence Relationships: Temenos Mistral & Crick Wellsley, Temenos Mistral & Ochette Tags: Alternative Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-typical violence, Canon-typical horror elements, Mystery, Religious trauma, Takes place during Temenos and Ochette's Stormhail routes but spoils entire game Note: Content warning list is linked here.
"You needn't stall our journey on my account," Temenos says, his fingers drumming against his staff. "Should the crows' beaks remain snapped shut, there's naught else to be done in this situation."
"But Temenos," Osvald begins, "your friend—"
"Has left no body for me to find nor clues to follow. I have no cards left to play here," the cleric coldly states, letting out a shaky, tired breath as his mouth twitches downward. "I think it best we all acknowledge that."
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litchkiing · 1 year ago
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GREETINGS FELLOW SODOMITES
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IM MARS ⛓️ IM FAG ⛓️ IM SILLY
(about)
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linusjf · 8 months ago
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Soren Aaby Kierkegaard: Life
“Life is not a problem to be solved but a reality to be experienced.” ~Soren Aaby Kierkegaard English: Sketch of Søren Kierkegaard. Based on a sketch by Niels Christian Kierkegaard (1806-1882). (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
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View On WordPress
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butterscotch-cheesecake · 9 months ago
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I'd like to thank google photos for providing a timeline of my sandwich progress for me. It's truly inspiring how far I've come in such a short time.
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sentofight · 1 year ago
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"So ... I was named after your God Arc who named himself after the first part of your name . . . ?"
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"Basically, yeah."
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"That's . . . so lame and cringy."
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"H-HUH!?! Th-- hey! That's rude!!"
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"Mom should've said no ... she betrayed me."
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"How did you turn up to be this uncute child? ... Sakuya~! Ren says I'm lame!" goes to complain to his wife.
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" . . . Silly father ... Mhm, it can't be helped. I'll protect him, too. He's a handful, and you know him best, Ren. Keep him alive as long as you can ... please."
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citadelofmythoughts · 2 months ago
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Well, it's been a minute but chapter 12 is up! Sandy decides on desperate action to save the girl she loves.
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serennes-art · 2 years ago
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my sigurd arrived in the mail!!! he's so gorgeous in person, i love the colors!!! thank you so much for making these charms, i'm so glad i bought one!!
i'm so glad to hear he arrived safe and sound!!!! thanks a million for giving him a happy home :)
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citadelofmythoughts · 2 years ago
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Something so rare that the only other example is a fairy tale...
Makes you think that the racism in Remnant, even in places where it isn’t overt is still very much a thing.
do you ever think about the fact that blake and yang are the only faunus/human couple we have seen in remnant......
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seresinhangmanjake · 2 months ago
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Hi there! I'm crazy about your stories about Feyd!! Truly brillant!! I've sren your accettino requests...wanted to know if you could a Feyd x reader where they are married and she let him keep the harpies. One day, while Feyd is in a council, reader gets attacked or someone tries to have his way with her and she's saved by the harpies, who kills the man and than take her to their room to care for her, and when Feyd arrives he reward them or something....you choose the endind.
Thankss
Protecting His
Feyd-Rautha x reader
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Warnings/Notes: I made it a little bit different, so I hope that's ok. Mention of attempted assault, but it is not detailed. Goes with my His series, but you don't have to read it before reading this. I know this could've been smutty, but idk, the inspiration just didn't take it that route.
Words: 1360
Feyd-Rautha Masterlist / Main Masterlist / Tag list
“I apologize, my Lady,” the harpy says as she dabs alcohol along the fresh slash on your forehead. “It’ll only be a minute more.”
Your chuckle is a weak breath of air. “You saved me. The last thing you need to do is apologize,” you tell her. 
She briefly pauses her work before continuing. “Our Lord na-Baron will not understand,” she says. 
She’s probably right. Red will be blinding his vision. It’s enough that a guest in your home—an invited guest, a welcomed guest—tried to take advantage of you in a moment when you showed him kindness, but a plethora of additional factors will only heighten your husband’s fury: the fact that you allowed yourself to be alone with another man, even though that was against your intention; the fact that that man touched you and tried to do more; the fact that you’re bleeding because of it; and the fact that Feyd wasn’t the one to protect you, and in his place, one of the harpies was forced to step in. As if they weren’t in enough trouble already. 
He’s been deciding what to do with them for days now, trying to figure out if they have enough use elsewhere to be worth keeping alive, but he’s been coming up short, and you know their fates at the hands of your husband are unlikely to be forgiving. 
They’d been so good for so long, so well-trained after they tried to take a bite out of you—literally—as you slept by Feyd’s side almost a year ago to the day. That act of disobedience cost them each a finger, but from learning their lesson, they eventually became trustworthy enough for Feyd to assign them as your handmaids. And they maintained the position until the unfortunate incident of one of them losing control. 
She tried to take a nibble out of your flesh, and worse, in a moment when you were holding your newborn son. When Feyd learned of this, he lost his mind. Though the harpy acted alone, Feyd banished the three to the other side of the fortress and took the hand of the harpy who tried to have you for her next meal—this harpy. 
You stare at the stump, a bandage replacing where pale, delicate fingers used to be. She’s lost enough. It’s not right that she suffer a lash to the neck simply for being within range of you. It’s not right that Feyd’s rage will have him do the same to the other two. 
“I’ll make him understand,” you promise her as she covers the cut with a strip of tape, and as if on cue, your husband practically blows the door down with the force of a hurricane. 
His eyes land on you and soften with worry at your injured state. They reharden as they find the harpy at your side. “What did she do!” he snaps. 
You quickly rise to your feet, ignoring the dizziness that slightly blurs your vision, and place yourself between him and the harpy. “She saved me.”
He rushes toward her, but with your hands pressing into his chest, you keep him at bay. “She tried to harm you not a week ago!”
“And now she saved me.”
Feyd sucks in a breath through his nose, his shoulders rising and falling, his chest puffing and deflating. His eyes fall to your face. His brow knits as his hands cup your cheeks. He presses a long kiss to your lips, then says, “Are you ok?”
“Yes,” you say. “He would’ve done more if she hadn’t been there.”
“I gave explicit orders—”
“I know,” you intercept. “But would you rather a dead wife?”
It’s a blow. Not a wise one, considering he almost lost you during the birth of your son, but it’s reality. You could’ve died tonight. The man that wanted to hurt you wouldn’t have kept you alive to name him after the fact, whether you’re the na-Baron’s wife or not. He’s much too high-ranking, and without your voice there to reveal his lies, he could’ve pinned the crime on anyone.
Feyd’s hands drop from your face, and during your husband's brief placation, you glance over your shoulder at the harpy. “It’s best you go back to your cell now. A guard will escort you.”
She bows her head. “Yes, my Lady,” she says before she treads lightly around you and your husband to the door. 
Only once she’s gone and Feyd has settled into his seat at the foot of the bed do you say, “Don’t kill her.”
His head snaps up. “You will not tell me what to do.”
“I’m asking.”
“Why?”
You snort. “Isn’t it obvious?”
Feyd crosses his arms over his chest. “Are you teasing me at a time like this? Your life–” His eyelids pinch and he shakes his head. “You could’ve–”
With a sigh, you move to sit beside him on the mattress. “I’m fine,” you tell him. “But you cannot punish her for saving your wife. It’s not right.”
He pauses in his contemplation before he says, “What was she even doing on this side of the fortress?”
“She said she wanted to apologize to me and that you wouldn’t permit it, so she snuck over,” you answer. “You could’ve at least let her do that much.”
“I couldn’t risk it,” he lightly snaps. “I couldn’t risk you and the baby.”
When your hand lands on his forearm, he takes your fingers between his. “And they don’t have to be around us ever again if that’s what you want, but please reconsider hurting them further. They were always kind to me and–”
“Except when they tried to steal you from me to eat,” he reminds you.
“Yes, well, they were more kind than uncontrollably hungry.”
Feyd stares at you long and hard. His thumb rubs back and forth over yours. “You’re serious.”
You give a single decisive nod. “I am.”
When Feyd unlocks the cell door and steps inside, two of the harpies skitter across the floor to Feyd’s feet. They paw at the ankles of his pants. One’s head nuzzles the toe of his boot. He pays them little attention, his eyes on the hunt for the one tucked in the corner against the stone wall. She shies away from the blazing ray of his glare. 
“My Lord, we are very sorry for what our sister did,” the first harpy says—the eldest, the tallest of the three. It is most fascinating to see her so low. She tightens her fingers into the pants fabric, but Feyd kicks her off, and her entire body jolts back like a creature freshly injured.
“So very sorry,” the second, who has backed away alongside her sister, mimics.
“Please spare–”
“Hush, I’m not in the mood,” Feyd scolds. 
“Y-You will kill us?”
Feyd finally tears his stare from the huddled harpy to the ones by his feet. “You can pray to the kindness of my wife that I will not be,” he says. “You,” he juts his head back to the other. “You get a reward that I expect you to share with your sisters.”
Her head lifts from where it was resting atop her knees. Her dark eyes widen a touch. 
“A reward?” one of the others says.
“For us?”
Feyd gives a curt nod to the guard behind him, and a moment later, the man who attempted to take you against your will is tossed into the room. Already battered and bruised, he remains face down on the cobblestone flooring. A groan escapes through his lips, but that and the slightly pinkish hue of his skin from whatever blood remains in his veins is all there is as proof of life. 
“A meal,” Feyd says. “Enjoy it while it lasts.”
The three glance at the body and then back up at Feyd. He doesn’t say another word as he turns on his heel and signals his guard to relock the cage. He doesn’t look back as the screams begin to echo through the dank halls. He has better things to do, like tending to his wife. It’s been a long day, after all, and she could use the comfort.
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dustedmagazine · 2 years ago
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Krill — Alam No Hris (Sipsman/Sren)
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If you know one Krill song, it’s likely “Theme from Krill,” the super-charged book-end track to Lucky Leaves, widely considered the Boston band’s definitive album. This is a garbled, strangled, overdriven hyper-melodic punk pop tune, containing the refrain, “Krill, Krill, Krill forever,” which was how a certain segment of Boston mid-teens hipsters felt about the band. If you know another Krill song, it just might be “Solitaire,” which Stereogum ranked as the #1 best cut ever from this cultish outfit, and which came right in the middle of Alam No Hris, the band’s angsty, trebly, blustering onslaught of a debut album.  
Krill came out of a math-y, complicated, guitar-driven punk-pop scene that centered around bands like Pile and Speedy Ortiz and the Exploding in Sound label (which released the band’s final album, A Distant Fist Unclenching, in 2015). A trio, comprised of Jonah Furman, Aaron Ratoff and Ian Becker, the band turned pop punk inside out, blasting massive salvos of guitar, bass, drum sounds through complicated song structures and over yelping, self-lacerating lyrics of surprising tunefulness. Brute force met over-engineered complexity in their songs, but there was nothing off-putting about it. Furman’s wavery, electro-shocked singing embedded a vulnerable core into the most baroque concoctions. Even vamping, as in the “why, yay, yay yays” of “Piranha Girl,” he sounds like he’s feeling something rather than performing it. The intensity is absolutely real.
Krill songs often tip on the fulcrum between self-aggrandizement and self-hatred, never more so than in “Solitaire,” the album’s stand-out cut. The song concerns busted love and the way it gets translated into art; it is both about heartbreak and about how pointless it is to write songs about heartbreak. It proceeds from trying to find meaning in a maybe meaningless connection, to attempting to miss what was never very important to flailing away at the whole mess to try to turn it into art. The song ends with a swipe at itself, “But this three minutes/Well these are just a distraction/Just a momentary lapse in form/Dumb garage rock for some stupid girl I don't miss/A face floating in nothingness.”
Musically, these songs are likewise complicated, often starting with a throbbing, block simple line of bass and singing, then erupting in howl of rock noise, then cutting it all back to nothing again. Cuts are made of disparate pieces, loud ones, soft ones, hooky ones, obliterating ones, all working at cross purposes, yet somehow fitting together. It was a band entirely aware of its own neuroses, yet also brashly confident in itself, a band that wrote a song called “Self-Hate Will be the Death of Youth Culture,” and meant it, sort of.
Krill broke up in 2015 and reformed, more or less, as a band called Knot in 2020. This reissue celebrates the original release’s ten-year anniversary and offers an LP of this music for the first time. Krill may not have lasted forever, as its theme promised, but its music left—and continues to leave—a mark.
Jennifer Kelly
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sycamorality · 3 days ago
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redoing my ask. cuz i forgor the biome
ermm nether. warped forest. this color palette. yeahg
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yayy snake that lives in warped forests in the nether. its name is a pun actually. 'sren' Very Roughly translates to hell (it's just the death realm but is roughly (badly) translated to hell because of serendipity's (god of death) bad reputation) and 'senpe' is the word for snake. so its basically a combination of the two words
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nopumpkinsleftunfucked · 1 year ago
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France is trying to force browsers to block a blacklist of websites. This is not good. Yes, most websites in this blacklist are fraudulent, but if this law passes in France, it will be an example of what the other governments can force browsers to do.
I know this website is mostly American, so YES, it might affect you later on, kill it before it grows.
We all know they start taking our freedom "for the greater good" until they use it for their own agenda once the lobbyist get in.
Do note they're trying to make it go through the Parlament very quickly and as discreetly as they can. They presented it before holidays and the vote is in autunm.
Here is a link to the Firefox petition and to the french article.
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