#there is brilliance among all humans

[5ellaal5]

TIL the first English Teacher in Japan was Native American (Chinook)

Happy Indigenous People’s day in these United States, from Oregon.

So yesterday I went to a talk because a friend was involved in organizing it. I was ready to patiently sit through the usual history of white men extolling the coolness of other white men throughout history.

But I was to be very surprised. He was not White. And he was indeed hella cool.

Turns out the first English Teacher in Japan was a half-Native American (Chinook) half-Scottish man (both Colonized populations) born on the (now) Oregon coast in 1824, who spent some early adult years in Canada, and then stowed away to get into Japan while it was still locked down to any foreigners, and first met the Ainu (Hokkaido’s indigenous population - remember that Japan is also a colonizer) before meeting the Japanese.

Then he was captured by samurai and held prisoner and taught English to them and to Dutch traders while imprisoned. He had taught himself Japanese and wrote a dictionary/glossary by ear.

So, this person said F U to two empires and multiple borders and had a life of adventure! He died age 70 back in Washington State near the Canadian border.

Gonna read his biography now. There are a number of options.

There is a non-fiction manga form:

And a novelization that I just got for no cost, and a number of others, including his own autobiography that has been reprinted.

Unfortunately the room that the talk was in was so horrifically echoey that I had to sleep for several hours after I got home and had to look up all the info that the presenter conveyed because I couldn’t hear him.

So I’m looking forward to learning more.

(I also watched a clip of a show that thwarted the expectations of supremacist culture by informing the game contestants that the city with the largest number of English speakers is Mumbai. Fuck yeah. It’s a good sort of Fuck Colonialist Supremacy couple of days.)

[redtsundere-writes]

Tyrant's Favorite | Sukuna Ryomen

Part 18: Initiative

King!SukunaRyomen x Servant!FemReader

Summary: You used to be just another servant among the army of humans operating under the command of the terrible king, Sukuna Ryomen. An ordinary human who only knows how to wash, clean and cook. Until one day, he notices something in you that you hadn't seen before.

Tags: MDNI. +18. Murder. Blood. Cannibalism. Sukuna Ryomen Is The Warning Itself. Nudity. Sexual Display. Vaginal. Fingering. Sometimes fluff, sometimes angst. Beta read.

Word Count: 5342 words.

Beginning. | ← Previous | Next →

“His Majesty, King Toji Zen’in and Her Highness, Queen Nozomi Zen’in, are pleased to extend their most distinguished invitation to the Grand Royal Anniversary Ball in commemoration of the 500th anniversary of the founding of the Zen’in Kingdom.

On a splendors night beneath the stars, nobles, courtiers, and dignitaries from all lands are invited to join this majestic celebration taking place at the Zen’in Castle, where music, dance, and the brilliance of magic will illuminate the evening on the tenth day of the fifth month, year 700.

With the highest respect and gratitude,

King Toji Zen’in

Queen Nozomi Zen’in

May your path be guided by justice and honor.”

“A ball?!” You announced excitedly as you skipped in place.

It’s been years since you attended one. You missed the balls, but not for the dancing itself. You enjoyed listening to live musicians, especially pianists. The last time you went to one with your mother and sisters, it didn't go so well. Your mother scolded you on the way home for not dancing with anyone even though you had spent the last two weeks practicing choreography. You were never very good at talking to men like Yorozu was, but now you can enjoy one without the pressure of courting a rich man who will save you from misery.

"Every year it's the same," Uraume commented with annoyance, announcing her presence on the parade ground. "Welcome, Commander Mahito," they bowed respectfully to your savior.

"What's up?" He greeted them back with a red eye from tearing up so much.

"The king was invited to a ball! Sounds like fun!" You told Uraume showing him the invitation.

“If I were you, I wouldn’t be so excited,” Uraume replied, taking the invitation to put it back in its respective envelope. “The king has rejected every invitation he has received from the Zen’in in the last 5 years.”

Sukuna Ryomen, being a king who believes himself superior to everyone, never bothered to attend the royal events he was invited to. He would hate to waste his time on unimportant events like everyone else. He would rather starve to death than attend a stupid ball. Uraume has seen the king destroy letters from the sorcerer kingdoms just by knowing their content for centuries. They knew the king better than anyone else.

“It’s probably because the king doesn’t know how much fun they are,” you argued.

“It seems like you’re the one who wants to go,” Uraume said.

“Obviously I want to go. Besides, getting out of the castle would be great,” you explained with obviousness. “Wearing a pretty dress, dancing all night, watching and listening to the orchestra…” You explained, delighted at the idea of ​​living the experience again.

“Good luck, the king would never agree,” Uraume declared confidently.

Over the years, as the king’s right hand, Uraume has been the one in charge of receiving the packages, especially when it comes from enemy kingdoms. They are the first in line to defend the honor of the great kingdom of Sukuna and it is always the same. A strong sorcerer arrives to kill as many curses as possible, he fights against them so they don’t enter the castle, they surrender so they don’t waste any more time on a one-man mission, and they leave the letter to complete the mission. Uraume has had to go through that tedious process hundreds of times only for the king to destroy letters almost immediately. 

“I would at least like to try to convince him,” you commented determinedly.

“Oh, someone is sure,” Mahito teased, wrapping his arm around your shoulders in a friendly way.

“You won't be able to do it. I've known the king for over 500 years, he'll never go to a ball or he'll allow you to,” Uraume explained calmly.

A light bulb went off above your head. You had an idea to distract yourself from your daily chores. Something you used to do with your sisters to resolve any conflict.

“What if we bet on it?” You proposed with a playful smile.

Uraume raised an eyebrow. Were you so sure you could convince them that you could bet it? It was a gigantic stupidity, they didn't have to lower himself to your silly games. Uraume was sure they would win anyway, but if he was so sure, why not bet it? It would be the easiest prize they have ever gotten in their life. 

“What do you want to bet?” Uraume asked you curiously.

“If the king agrees to go to the ball…” You thought for a second about what prize you wanted. You snapped your fingers when you got it. “I want Mrs. Inoue to become my lady-in-waiting.”

You really hated looking for Mrs. Inoue and interrupting her daily servant duties to talk to her for five minutes. If she became your lady-in-waiting, you could talk to her whenever you wanted and it would reduce her manual work considerably. Instead of washing dishes, sweeping for hours, and spending the whole morning among the crops, she could help you study, get ready for the day, and be at your training. It was the best reward you could ask for, and Uraume, being in charge of all the servants, could give it to you.

“Fine, but if I win, you will have to prepare dinner for the king for a month,” Uraume proposed their own reward.

Your smile immediately fell. Preparing dinner for the king meant having to maneuver humans as if they were fish. The mere thought of having to cut a human into different pieces and remove the bones from someone of your race made your stomach turn. This game was no longer as fun as you thought it would be.

“Scared?” Uraume asked you with a smile full of confidence.

“Uuuuh, they said your mom is fat,” Mahito whispered to you to tease you even more.

Were you really going to let them mess with you? Ever since you killed your sister, you have learned a valuable lesson. You weren't going to let anyone make fun of you, no matter how close or strange they were. You were a brand-new person and no one would mess with you anymore. Not Yorozu, not Naoya, not anyone else. You were going to win this bet. For you and for Mrs. Inoue.

“No,” you extended your hand. “Deal,” you smiled at them kindly.

Uraume relaxed his face, making it monotonous again. They shook hands. They were sure you were going to fail. There was no way the king would agree to something like that. You couldn’t get everything you wanted just because you were his favorite, but it would be fun to see you lose. They might not know you, but they did know the king.

“Follow me. The king is waiting for you,” Uraume showed them the way.

Back at the office, Sukuna and Kenjaku had seen the entire fight with Naoya. Sukuna knew Mahito was about to arrive, so he didn’t care much about leaving you alone for a moment with the stowaway, plus he wanted to see you in action in the middle of an invasion. It was a relief to see you keep your composure and act accordingly. He expected nothing less from you. On the other hand, Kenjaku was more interested in your skills with the bow. You were a good archer, but he didn't think you could hit a target moving so fast. You definitely had a technique, now it was time to find out what it was.

"My king, Commander Mahito has arrived," Uraume introduced the guest, letting him into the large office.

"Good day, my great king." Mahito bowed to him respectfully.

"Welcome to the Kingdom of Sukuna," Kenjaku greeted him.

"Kenny!" Mahito ran to hug him. "Long time no see!"

"Likewise," Kenjaku hugged him back.

Sukuna watched you intently. You had long since gotten used to that suffocating feeling. He studied you from head to toe, memorizing your every move. From your posture to the gestures on your face, Sukuna learned more about you day by day. You just smiled at him to cut the tension between you.

“Did Naoya bring an invitation again?” Sukuna asked Uraume as soon as she handed him the envelope.

“That’s right.”

This was the perfect time to try to convince the king to go to the ball. You went over in your mind all the advice Kenjaku had given you about debate, that would be your greatest weapon in this intellectual battle. You had to do your best to beat him.

“Once you understand the other's point of view, it is easier to defend your own position more successfully, especially because you avoid misunderstandings and arguing about aspects that the other side has not really said,” you quoted your teacher in your mind.

First, you had to understand why Sukuna did not want to go to the ball. Most likely it was his racial hatred of humans. Balls are full of them, how could you convince him to go to a place full of the race he hates the most? Sukuna took the envelope, surely, to destroy it. You had to speak now to avoid it.

“It's an invitation to a ball,” you told him, approaching his desk to get his attention.

“I know, it’s been the same for 5 years now,” Sukuna replied.

“Dances are so much fun,” you came up with an empirical comment.

“They’re just a waste of time,” Sukuna replied. “You should turn the tables on him.”

“Not if he uses it to his advantage.” You threw the bait.

Everyone looked at you intrigued. Kenjaku quickly noticed what you were doing, he was about to watch your first live debate. He felt like a mother when watching her chick hatch. Sukuna relaxed in his seat, you behaved like in the chess game you had months ago. It didn’t take long for him to realize that you wanted to go to that ball. After all, you were a girl. Going to a royal ball promised to be a fairy tale night that every young girl your age dreams of. 

“What kind of benefit would I get from spending a night with stupid dancing rats?” Sukuna inquired, curious to know your next move. “He’s already down,” you thought confidently.

“Doesn’t he know that old saying? ‘Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer,’” you explained. “If he goes to the Zen’in ball, it would be a chance to see the castle, its inhabitants, and its interior.” You made a good argument, but the king was still not convinced.

“What if it’s a trap?” Sukuna was about to eat one of your pieces.

“The same trap for five years in a row?” You moved your piece back just in time.

Kenjaku was grinning from ear to ear as he watched the conversation. This had been the actual fruit of his teachings. His first harvest had been a small, tasteless orange. If he kept putting in fertilizer, next year’s harvest would be bigger and juicier. There were many things you could improve on, but this was an incredible start. You were taking on the king on his own board, a difficult thing to do.

“Why not? Sometimes sorcerers are so stupid.” Sukuna sat back in his seat to become serious.

“If it really was a trap, why wait?” You asked. “I would take advantage of any important holiday to send him an invitation, if it was a trap.”

“Because the Zen'in Kingdom's anniversary ball is the only one where all the kings, the strongest sorcerers in the world, gather together,” Sukuna explained, eating one of your bishops. “Why would I go to the ball when I can attack some other kingdom?,” Uraume smiled slightly as they realized that Sukuna cornered you with that argument.

“Then why hasn't he done it?,” you asked, feigning innocence.

His red eyes widened as he realized. Sukuna had made a mistake in his argument and you noticing it only hurt his ego more. You sacrificed one of your bishops to eat his queen in one bite. The king had accepted that he knew that the ball wasn't a trap. If it were, he would have conquered some of the largest sorcerer kingdoms many years ago while their kings and troops were waiting for him in the wrong place.

“I really think it's a ball,” you continued. “A perfect opportunity to meet all your rivals in one visit.” Checkmate.

Sukuna looked at you, this time, admiring your bravery in facing him so directly. Even though it was your chance to be smiling from cheek to cheek for having won the argument, there didn't seem to be any malice behind your actions. You were just a girl who liked balls and you really wanted to go for fun. You hadn't done it to prove a point. Uraume looked at him in surprise, they couldn't believe his king was contemplating the idea of ​​going to a human event, leave that, a sorcerer's event.

"Fine, we'll go to the Zen'in ball." Sukuna gave you the win. Uraume's mouth dropped to the floor. This couldn't be happening.

"Thank you, my king!" You squealed in joy. You walked around his desk to throw yourself at him and hug him by the neck. "You'll see that you won't regret it!"

The colors rose to the king's face as soon as you kissed his cheek. Your warm embrace pressed him to your body as you invaded his face with loud kisses of gratitude. Each kiss tickled his body with emotion. You transmitted to him that warmth that characterized you. He stood frozen like a monument, his body short-circuited as he couldn't understand why you were acting so loving towards him. Receiving that kind of affection wasn't in his system. He never thought you would do something like that of your own free will.

"I'm leaving, I'll go pick out the dress I'll wear," you said. You walked away from him, leaving him wanting more, to leave the office and look for Mrs. Inoue.

Sukuna and Uraume still couldn't believe what had happened. "Is she really that happy to go to the ball?" he thought, caressing the cheek you just kissed him on. It was warm and a little wet. It was the first time he experienced something like that. "Did the king really let himself be convinced like that?!" Uraume was about to confront him, but the king spoke first.

“Uraume, take Commander Mahito to his room to rest from his journey,” Sukuna ordered, slowly coming out of his trance. He remembered that he was in front of very important people for his kingdom.

 “Yes, my king.” Uraume bowed to guide the guest to his new room. “It seems that I will have to face him later,” they thought.

“Thank you, my king. See you later,” Mahito said goodbye, following behind the servant.

Once the door closed, Sukuna dropped his face into his upper hands. His face was so hot that he could roast a piece of meat on his cheeks. His heart kept beating a mile a minute for every kiss you gave him. This was the reaction he hated you causing him. It confused him and distracted him from his plans.

“I have taught her well, haven’t I?” Kenjaku gloated over his star pupil.

“Too well.” Sukuna placed his face in one of his hands to look at him in annoyance, not because he had done what he asked, but because his ego had been crushed.

“Do you still think the dance is a trap?” Kenjaku asked him.

“Definitely,” Sukuna answered, trying to focus on the plans for the war he was planning to start. “But it’s not for a surprise attack. It would be too obvious if it was.”

“It’s complicated because I agree with you and the young lady.” Most likely they are looking for information. “Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer,” Kenjaku commented.

“There is only one way to find out, but I am sure of one thing.” The king took the envelope with the invitation.

In addition to the wax seal with the Zen’in symbol, there was a stamp with a purple orchid. Orchids come in different colors and the meaning depends on this. Purple ones usually mean justice, prudence and wisdom. The Zen’in know perfectly well what they are doing.

“The Zen’in have already made their first move.”

You skipped through the halls happily and with a big smile on your face. You greeted all the servants, who saw you so happy in such a sad castle. You couldn’t believe that you had won a bet against Uraume and now he had saved Mrs. Inoue from her usual chores. You headed to the garden where you knew your best friend would be harvesting the crops. You found her crouching down picking carrots, pulling one by its leaves.

“Mrs. Inoue!” You greeted her as you ran over to her, being careful not to crush the other vegetables.

“What are you doing here? Did you hear the invasion alarm?” Mrs. Inoue asked you, surprised that you were with her and not sheltering somewhere safer.

“I heard it, Naoya Zen'in is a complete idiot,” you commented angrily, emphasizing that you stood up to him.

“You fought Naoya Zen'in?! That's dangerous!” The lady scolded you while spanking you as if you were a naughty child. “Are you okay? Did he hurt you? Is he as handsome as they say?” The lady bombarded you with questions, although she seemed more interested in the last one.

“Yes, no and yes,” you answered at the same speed. “But that's the least important,” you took the basket of carrots from her hands to hang it on your arm. “From now on you stop being a maid.”

“Excuse me?” She looked at you, puzzled.

“From today on, you will be my lady-in-waiting,” you told her, interlacing her arm as yours to return to the castle.

It was wonderful news. Unlike maids, ladies-in-waiting are not seen as domestic servants, so she would leave tedious tasks to spend the whole day with the young lady. Her new job would simply be to provide conversation and company, much less tiring than running around the castle.

“Does the king know about this?” The lady inquired, somewhat worried that this was too good to be true.

“It is not my duty to inform him. I won a bet against Uraume, let them tell him.”

Mrs. Inoue was flattered. She didn't know what you had done to achieve this, but she was sure that you had done it to protect her. You always cared about others, even if it ended up harming you. That meant that you considered her a close person and that you could trust her.

“You know? All my life I worked in the Sukuna mines, so I never got married or had children, much less grandchildren,” The misses commented as they walked through the hallways. “You are the closest thing to that,” she told you with a smile so as not to cry from the joy of having someone who cared about her.

“I will do anything for my family.” You responded with the same gesture, taking her hand to return to the castle.

Night fell on the kingdom of Sukuna, the best time to hunt humans. The curses prepared their fangs, claws, tentacles or any strange limb they had to stalk the human commune with caution. The small army of the commune deployed its night watch every evening. The men and the elders positioned themselves in their respective places with their sharp weapons to counterattack in the worst case that a curse decided to appear there. They could be weak, but never cowards.

The king walked from side to side in front of his fireplace, thinking about what war strategies he could implement for the Zen'in dance with their pros and cons. It was difficult to plan when he did not know with certainty what the Zen'in wanted from him, but he better be prepared for any possible scenario. His head was beginning to hurt from thinking so much about the uncertain future. He needed to relax.

He stumbled upon the erotic books that Kenjaku had let him read as homework a month ago. “It’s true, I never read them.” As soon as he opened the page he had stopped at, his mind traveled to that memory where he had you against the bed. Your innocent eyes looking at him with uncertainty, your hair spread across the sheets and your breasts exposed, wanting to be touched. He slammed the book shut as soon as his cheeks suddenly heated up.

“What the hell is wrong with me?!” Sukuna exclaimed, pulling his hair out of frustration.

Sukuna had accepted that he thought you were pretty, that you were a faithful servant and that you would be a capable queen, but this was already on another level. He thought he only felt a strong conditional respect for you like the one he had for Uraume, but now it was much more than that. Having accepted that he was in love with you was the worst decision he had ever made in his life. If he didn't find a way to control himself, everything would get out of hand. He fought with every cell in his body to stay out of it, to remain the terrible king he had always been.

He covered his face in an attempt to forget your naked body, but he couldn't. He didn't understand. He had seen many naked bodies to eat, none of them gave him pleasure to see. He preferred to see them suffer than on the cold kitchen table, being cleaned with a knife to be his food later. He considered humans to be filthy rats, why did he see you in a different light?

Sukuna looked at himself in one of the mirrors that hung near his closet, framed with beautiful gold leaf engravings. He couldn't believe that this face that commanded respect and spread terror through the villages was blushing at the thought of a human. A conspiracy impossible to believe. What did all this mean? This couldn't be happening, not to him.

“No! You can't let her take control of you. You should control her!” He scolded himself strongly in front of the mirror, pointing a finger at himself.

Sukuna tightly squeezed the book he had in his hand. He had to prove to himself that he could control himself, avoid thinking about you, seeing you like any other human. He lay down on his bed in annoyance. He looked for the page where he had stopped. He wrinkled his forehead, concentrating on his mission: to be able to read an erotic novel without having any kind of reaction.

The count opened the door with his heart in his hand. She must be the only person he expected to see under the beauty of midnight. It was her, his beautiful beloved wrapped in pink lace. His lips pounced on her with the force of a desperate hurricane. They couldn't waste a second of this spontaneous encounter away from everyone. He unwrapped her like a birthday present and laid her down on the bed. He was going to make love to her as if this were the last night he would be alive.

This was the fantasy world he lived in every time the planets aligned to give them the opportunity to be together. Every kiss, every caress, every touch felt like the last, taking advantage of every second in her presence. His lips were hungry to taste her sensitive skin, to discover what lay beyond her beauty. He tasted her erect breasts with a burning passion that only a man can feel for the love of his life, the one that drove his senses crazy.

“The love of his life, the one that drove his senses crazy,” Sukuna whispered the last sentence to himself as if it were an enigma.

He knew what love was, he didn’t live under a rock, but the love of his life seemed to him an even crazier concept than love itself. He knew that there were different categories of love: parental love, love of art, romantic love, etc. So, what the heck was the love of his life? A once-in-a-lifetime love? Wasn’t that the same as the love of a partner? “Ugh, humans and their nonsense,” he thought, growing more enraged with the situation.

She pressed the book against his bare chest, mulling over the idea in her mind. Maybe he didn't know if you were the love of his life, but you did drive each of his senses crazy. You altered his vision when he saw you in those expensive dresses he bought you. You altered his touch every time he had you close enough to feel your skin. You altered his hearing with every compliment you sang to him. You altered his sense of smell every time he managed to smell the trace of your perfume, even the slightest. You altered his taste with those lips that he just wanted to keep tasting. He was losing his focus. He took the book again to return to what he was doing.

She mounted him, taking possession of his body as if it belonged to her for life. She snaked her way to his lips, offering him the apple that would take them out of paradise forever. The Garden of Eden didn't matter if they could create their own just by being close. Their mouths fused in a kiss as he melted into her. A pleasurable moan escaped from their throats as they felt their flesh rubbing together. Finally, they were united after so long.

Their bodies moved in sync. Lust coursed through their veins, preventing them from thinking coherently. The only thing that mattered was that they felt fulfilled with each other. His beloved moved her hips to the beat of an invisible metronome. Their intimacy expanded with each sit, splashing her fluids over his legs. Her smooth breasts bounced in front of him like a distraction from what was happening below. His hands ran over her rear to guide her to the point that expanded her horizons. A forbidden dance that would cost them their lives.

“My king,” he heard your voice whispering in his mind.

You were on top of him, completely naked. You caressed his chest with the tips of your fingers, moving his tunic out of the way. His breathing hitched as he felt your hips moving sensually against his crotch. It was slow, too slow. Sukuna tried to back away but you moved closer to him, cornered against the headboard of the bed. You smiled innocently at him as if you weren’t playing with him until he burst from impatience. Sukuna’s heart was beating a thousand miles an hour. He was terrified, not because you were there, but because of what he was capable of feeling. He wanted to continue being the terrible king, but he couldn’t do that if you were here. He wanted to get rid of this feeling that tormented him. He wanted…

Your lips against yours silenced all the noise in his mind. He closed his eyes and let himself melt under your sweet touch. He threw the book aside to take possession of your hips. He had no idea what he was doing. He just let his primitive instinct take over. Everything was silent in the middle of the night. If you paid attention, you could hear his altered breathing in the company of the burning campfire. He caressed your hair while his other hands and the tongue on his stomach ran through your body, invoking his mouths to plant kisses on you along the way.

You caressed his strong arms, running over every inch with tenderness until you took his shoulders. Sukuna's face was inked with carmine, but that didn't matter to him now, he needed to satisfy that hunger that he couldn't calm with just anyone. You arched your back as Sukuna took you by the butt with his lower hands, while his upper hands held you to his now bare chest. Your tongue extended as far as possible to feel any corner of your body that it could reach.

He opened your ass to introduce one of his members. Both of you let out a moan in unison at the terrible pleasure you were feeling. Sukuna growled until he put it in as far as it would go. It was tight, warm and slimy, the best feeling he had ever experienced in his life. He guided your hips to move along the magnitude of his penis. Slow but hard, increasing the speed so that you would get used to his body. He kissed your neck, leaving it full of love marks.

He had you under control, right where he wanted you. He was the only one who could own your body. The only one who could see you in such a vulgar way. He flexed his legs to be in charge of the tempo. He slammed his big cock against your wet vagina, soaking his lap and his second cock with your fluids. He growled with each movement, a roar of satisfaction at reaching his maximum. Your hands ran down his neck until they reached the nape of his neck to pull his hair, the only support you had to withstand each blow to your cervix. His four arms trapped you so that you stayed still. You were cornered to his body with no escape.

The second cock was erect like a post, also wanting to participate in the action. It hit your ass like a door, asking for permission to enter. Sukuna, sensing that urgency, lifted you up to sit you on his lap again. He took hold of your arms, keeping them behind your back while he opened his ass to let his extra friend in. You moaned in pain but stayed still. He forced you to lower your hips so that he could enter completely.

“Show your king how much you love him,” Sukuna purred on the edge of maximum excitement.

Sukuna was a complete mess. His body hadn't sweated like this since his last battle with King Jogo, he felt like his heart was going to jump out of his chest and he moved like a machine to reach the end of the race. Your bodies collided with each other, your ass clapping against his testicles to a rhythm that they had just invented. He grunted with each push you gave him to the beat of his strong hips. He took your breasts, covering them completely with the palms of his hands. A pair of tongues appeared on them to lick and nibble them gently, excited and curious to delight in that flesh that they would never dare to swallow. They were soft and playful, a perfect distraction from what was happening down there.

As soon as he least expected it, a white liquid shot out of their penises. Sukuna had recently learned that it was semen and it was normal. He let go against the bed as he breathed heavily. He relaxed his neck, letting his head fall back against the pillows. He closed his eyes as a smile crept onto his face. This had been the best night of his life.

He opened his eyes to take care of you but you were no longer there. You never were. He only found his hands holding his now limp members after having finished what he deserved. Reality hit him hard. He had imagined it all to masturbate. He let out a desperate cry before throwing Kenjaku’s book into the flames of the fireplace. He pulled at his hair as he wondered why all this was happening to him. “No, no, no!” he repeated in his mind. It was official. The king lost his mind.

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[deilkmizuo]

I want to talk about the private setting story of the Antarctic Empire. I've wanted to say this for a long timeee

😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

*P=Philza

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The classic co-emperor system: Seraph P was originally a radiant star in the heavens, playful by nature and often elusive like a shooting star. In its purest form, it was simply a celestial body. After encountering humans, P grew intrigued by the idea of transforming into one. To fulfill this desire, P made a pact with the goddess of the night sky, Kristen. The contract stated that if P’s light were ever to fade, it would be unable to return to the heavens, and the light would vanish when tainted by human impurity—something inevitable when divine beings descend among mortals. After enduring countless horrors inflicted by humans, P struck back, knowing deep down that its brilliance had been lost, and so began a life of seclusion and despair.

A few years after the founding of the Antarctic Empire, Techno realized he needed an assistant. However, instead of seeking a subordinate, he wanted an equal—a partner he could truly trust. After all, revealing his true nature as the Blood God would be catastrophic. Because of this, Techno remained distant and cold, refusing to form deep connections with anyone.

One day, after a council meeting, Techno rested at the foot of a mountain where a witch from a nearby magic shop told him, "Face the Southern Cross under the full moon, and the assistant you seek will appear."

On a night when the full moon and the Southern Cross were both visible, the assistant indeed appeared—but not in the way Techno expected. P, caught stealing grain from Techno’s storehouse like a cornered mouse, defeated all the guards with ease. Rather than being angered, Techno was impressed by P's strength and extended an invitation.

And so, the Antarctic Empire became the first nation with two emperors. Both harboring their own secrets—one capable of quieting the Blood God's Chat, the other with a sixth sense for sensing something off in their companion—they governed the empire together, maintaining its prosperity and peace while silently guessing at each other's true identities.

**Epilogue:**

One late night, after drinking too much, the two of them opened up and shared their long-held secrets. As moonlight poured through the window, P, who had long been wandering and displaced, began to question his place in the world. He had originally agreed to be an emperor just to get closer to the moon—his home. But now, standing on the edge of an icy cliff, illuminated by the moon's glow, P found himself doubting that original goal. As he stared at the moonlight, memories of working alongside Techno surfaced.

"Perhaps I can never return home," he thought.

"But maybe this is my new home," he whispered, as if making a vow to the night sky. The stars and lines connected, forming beams of light that shone brilliantly.

---------------------------------------------

Okay, I’m done🥹🥹 I like Phil in my story to be an angel who is full of tragedy and also very mischievous and silly. 🫨🫨

Please forgive me if the translation is wrong🙏

[red-dia]

Twitter user @/inspirashamul dug up an old Ichikawa interview from 2015. I don't think there's anything earthshattering, but it's still pretty cool (and I think it's the only time she's directly acknowledged the 7 treasures ? unless i'm mistaken)

Transcription under the cut :

"Throughout history gems have decorated every aspect of our lives - and afterlives as well. Buddhist sutras describe the Land of Bliss as a realm of dazzling splendour covered in precious gems and metals.

Furthermore, in Shariputra, the world know as the Land of Bliss, there are lotus ponds, all made of seven precious substances, namely, gold. silver, emerald, rockcrystal, red pearl, sapphire, and mother of pearl as the seventh. [...] The bottom of each pond is covered with golden sand. [...] These stairways are colourful, elegant, and made of four precious substances, namely, gold, silver, emerald, and rock crystal. "

Japanese manga author Haruko Ichikawa was inspired by this description to transform the gems into characters in her series, Houseki no Kuni (The Kingdom of Gems). In the distant future, Gem Warriors battle with the Moon People who mount raids from above to kidnap the living gems to use as for decorations.

Gem warriors look human but shatter upon impact. Their broken surfaces reflect light with a brilliant lustre. The moment of destruction is shockingly beautiful, yet they never truly die and can regain human form if their shards are put back together.

In the course of the story, we learn that the rival Gem Warriors and Moon People share the same origin-they were both once human. Bone became gemstone and the soul became the Moon People. The setup makes The Kingdom of Gems a story of humanity told through gems. Current Obsession conducted an e-mail interview with Haruko Ichikawa to find out what's behind the story and what she wants to say with her gem-laden allegory,

Background and Aesthetic

Many Japanese manga artists did not start as manga artists. Haruko Ichikawa is no exception. She was an editorial designer before she broke into manga.

'I enjoyed drawing when I was a little girl and that's why choose a high school that had an art course. Then, my interest moved from art to design, and in university, I majored in visual image design. After graduation, I worked as an editorial designer at a design company. I think the experience taught me how to design panels, how to make panels flow and how to balance black and white-basically, effective layouts that smoothly lead the eye of the reader. I'm also able to design my own books thanks to the techniques that I developed as an editorial designer.'

Usually design studios handle book design, but Ichikawa does it herself. Her brightly coloured covers glitter with lamé to suggest the world of gems waiting inside, while her minimalist two-dimensional style makes each panel stand as a pleasing piece of graphic design. The brilliance of the Gems stands out among the strong contrast of black and white pages. They look most beautiful when they shatter. The human-like appearance of the Gems makes this moment shocking, but also bewitching.

'I'm most attracted to the beauty within the horrific. Imagine the thrill of peeking at the secret hidden under a veil - an unexpected shock, or a macabre scene you can't turn away from. That's what I hope to recreate on the page.'

Her aesthetic is evident in the unique design of the characters. If the Gems are beautiful, then the bizarre Moon People are simply otherworldly. How did Ichikawa create these characters?

Character Design

There are two main groups of characters. While the colour and brilliance of gems are expressed as a Gem fighter's hair, Moon People are covered with ornate Buddhist decorations, such as multiple layers of delicate, heavenly garments and jewellery.

'When I design Gem Warriors, I try to get a specimen of the stone and base the design on its physical properties such as colour, hardness, strength, crystal shape and scarcity. On the other hand, I try to show Moon People as soft eerie beings with a hint of grace in order to make them look bizarre.'

Nearly every real world property is reflected in a Gem warrior's personality. Phosphophyllite (Phos), the main character with the "beautiful colour of shallow water on a western beach', lacks hardness and breaks as easily as actual phosphophyllite. Twin crystal amethyst is literally transformed into captivating twins, while the red-haired Cinnabar is knowledgeable, though cast as a lone wolf because her body is filled with a toxin. Real life cinnabar is known as the philosopher's stone and contains mercury. Alexandrite is usually a green-haired Moon People researcher, but she turns into a violent redhead in front actual Moon People, Her personality is in line with real alexandrite that changes colour depending on the type of light it reflects.

These properties come out as comical conversations between gems. For example, Morganite references the Mohs hardness scale when Phos grabs her. 'Hey! That was close! If you touch us directly, you're the one who's gonna shatter, three-and-a-half! Phos responds 'I am well aware, my dear seven.'

When speaking with Ichikawa it becomes apparent that her rich knowledge of stones and scientific viewpoint comes from her passion as a collector.

'My biggest pleasure is the surprise of discovery. Recently I'm most interested in how good intentions can lead to misfortune. This phenomenon happens quite often in science, which is why I like the field. I have around 300 stones in my collection. I've beest interested in stones since I was a little girl, so I've forgotten how I started to collect them: I' attracted to their simple chemical formula, near infiniteness, uniqueness, as well as the wonderful colour, texture and shape. I think every stone has its own appeal, be it a pebble on the beach or the most beautiful gem.'

Her choice of gems in the manga backs up the statement.

The Gem Warriors include valuable precious stones, such as diamond, as well as semi precious stones that are usually acknowledged as inforiors to gems. In her story, Gems vary in terms of fighting ability but are essentially treated as equals.

Inspiration

In The Kingdom of Gems, gems walk, talk and feel emotions just like us. How did Ichikawa come up with a unique idea of turning a gem into a human-shaped character?

'I had the idea that maybe minerals lived on a different time axis as ours - we just didn't realize it.'

And how did a passage from a Buddhist sutra, "the land of the Perfect Bliss is made of gems', contribute to the story?

'In the sutra gems are an accessible way to describe the beauty and majesty of the Land of Bliss. They are native to the Land of Bliss, not stolen from elsewhere. When I first read the sutra it occurred to me that Buddhism didn't consider these ornamental gems as eligible for salvation. It's not that the sutra made me feel disappointed in Buddhism or want to liberate gems myself. The sutra provides a simple message for the masses by comparing objects of unparalleled beauty to gems. It made me realize that there's a limit to our shared imagination. There's a line somewhere. So where does that put inorganic compounds? They can't speak for themselves. It's pretty convenient to ignore this and assume them to be subservient. It's hard to put my feelings into words, but I felt a very human danger - and attraction - in the vivid examples that assigned gems value and the matter-of-fact manner that passes over these same objects for salvation.

People emphasize with objects that appear human. So I followed this lite of thought - how would we react to a being that was totally unlike a human except in its appearance? Would we want to help them, or feel guilt for persecuting them? What would cause us to feel compassion? This is my experiment find out. It boils down to having empathy for others, be they organic or otherwise.

I'm also interested in what part of our nature is human, and what is animal - both the good and bad. Just as we struggle with the unknowable animal nature within us, life forms in the future will struggle with the untamed nature leftover from humans. At least, that's my hypothesis for what I write.'

This kind of humanity is strongly depicted in the conversation between Phos and Ventricosus, the ruler of the sea.

Ventricosus understands that the Moon People mean to reclaim their flesh and bones to return to their human form, but since they divided from humans so long ago there is no way back. Knowing that the character is not human makes the following dialogue all the more impressive.

'The Moon People, despite lacking natural enemies, love war and are never satisfied. I get the feeling that this undirected anxiety is leftover from when they were human.'

Unique Use of Ornamentation

All sorts of decorations will catch your eye as you read through the pages. For instance, the Moon People are defined by their lavish outfits. From their opulent fabrics to elegans curved ornamentation it's hard to imagine they are capable of such aggression.

The highly decorative quality of the Moon People and the way they steal gems to decorate their homeland makes ornamentation an allegory for earthly desires. However, Ichikawa's statement from the previous wection reveals her unique attitude to wards ornamentation. She uses gems, a typical decoration, to show how the reader feels toward the materials we use for decotation. Yet she has a positive view of the subject. For example, the Gem Warriors fashion reveals clothing lined with flower patterns and special costumes worn during hibernation. Ichikawa obviously enjoys drawing these scenes. Her pages overflow with fun.

'I appreciate sophisticated adornment, Bizarre, extravagant adornment is also atractive. I'm rather interested in the reason behind such decoration. People must have reasons to (or not to) decorate For example, some people decorate them selves to feel confident or be popular, while others don't because they have different priorities.

It's interesting to see what people place importance on.

As for the Gem Warrior outfits, materials are scarce in their world so I try to make the most of simplicity. I also wanted to show how the Gems take pleasure from fashion.

People will decorate. Some for personal reasons, and some out of a desire to get close to something greater than themselves. It is a very human behaviour we should love and be proud of.

I like decorations, I like jewellery. Even more so I like people who decorate themselves and our nature that drives us to. I'm sure many readers understand this sentiment.

However, like all human practices, the act and desire to decorate hides our vulnerabilities.'

Haruko Ichikawa points this out through characters that are living decorations themselves. She does not view this negatively. For in her world, everything is beautiful, even our weaknesses.

[srbachchan]

DAY 5841

Jalsa, Mumbai Feb 14, 2024 Wed 11:59 PM

Birthday - EF - Rajinder Sehgal .. Ef Ishtar Saiyadi .. Ef Rita Varma Thursday, 15 February

‎🪔 ,

‎February 15 .. birthday greetings to Ef Rita S Varma from Faridabad .. Ef Rajinder Sehgal .. Ef Depack Timbadiaa from Kolkata .. and the DEEWARian lover from USA, Ef Ishtar J. Saiyady .. ܐܫܬܪ .. happiness ever from the Ef Family .. 🙏🏻🚩❤️

Refined isolation and idleness be the bane of our existence .. nothing to work to , nothing to put mind to .. nothing to be in the look for the forward .. nothing !

Yet that is what is aimed at during the times of non refinement .. and when it comes it produces the concurrent legacies of the system described ..

Much to be done , much to be worked on , much to be, much to be attempted and much to be in the learning ..

And the elude ..

To start up again the cranking of the handle for the engine to roar .. the physical act of pushing the propellers of the craft to get in motion .. the begin of everything to be attended with the physical adherence of manual execution ..

is the strange un understandable part of this genZ ..

and by the time they do .. the next hurdle looms ahead ..

"Isolatory life can be both a refuge and a challenge, as individuals navigate the delicate balance between solitude and connection. In seclusion, one discovers the profound depths of self-reflection, fostering personal growth and introspection. However, prolonged isolation may lead to a sense of detachment from the outside world, creating an emotional barrier that hinders social bonds. The isolatory life, marked by quiet contemplation and introspective moments, allows for a unique exploration of one's inner landscape. Yet, it necessitates a conscious effort to bridge the gap between self-discovery and meaningful human connections, as the delicate dance between solitude and social engagement shapes the isolated journey."

from the intervention of thought to the desire of cutting short the expression and explanation .. there is no time to wait and watch .. for by the time these words are expressed , time has changed .. changed the Universe .. altogether ..

and with age - the philosopher emerges among us all .. in depth and longing and presence , to either sound bugles of brilliance, or conversely drown in its own stew .. !!

Amitabh Bachchan

[zapreportsblog]

Hello. I saw that you wrote for other fandoms. Do you write for the Foundation? If so, can you write for yandere Brother Day (Cleon xiii) and female reader? Brother Day wants to make your reader his legal wife and Queen. Moreover, he wants to have children with the reader.

❝you are mine for eternity❞

✭ pairing : brother day cleon xii x reader

✭ fandom : foundation

✭ summary : brother day have always had his eyes on (y/n), she was the fairest of them all and no other person deserved her love as much as he did.

✭ authors note : lol I have no clue who this man is and im literally reading everything off the web right now on him so sorry if it’s not all that good :)

In the heart of a sprawling, futuristic city stood the grand institution known as the Sanctum. Its towering spires reached toward the heavens, symbolizing the pinnacle of human achievement in science, knowledge, and martial prowess. Within the hallowed walls of the Sanctum, young minds were honed to become the guardians of humanity, known as the Sentinels. Among them, Brother Day was a rising star, the embodiment of dedication, and the epitome of a warrior.

But beneath his disciplined exterior, there was a secret, an obsession that had quietly taken root in his heart since childhood. That obsession had a name, and it was (Y/N).

The story of Brother Day and (Y/N) began in the innocence of youth, when they were nothing more than wide-eyed children. Growing up within the walls of the Sanctum, they had been inseparable. Brother Day, in particular, had always found himself drawn to her, like a moth to a flame. It had started as a simple crush, a puppy love that had made his heart race and his palms sweat.

Back then, when he wasn't busy with the rigorous training that would one day make him a Sentinel, he would often find himself sneaking away from his duties to watch (Y/N) in secret. She had a talent for making flower crowns, a skill she had developed from the vibrant gardens that thrived in the heart of the Sanctum. He would hide among the blossoms, his eyes fixated on her delicate hands as they wove together petals and leaves into intricate garlands.

As the years passed, Brother Day's affection for (Y/N) deepened. He had vowed to himself that he would make her his, not just as a lover, but as a queen. In the stillness of the night, when the Sanctum slept, he would lie awake, his thoughts consumed by her. He knew that he was destined for greatness, that he would ascend to the highest ranks of the Sentinels, and he would do it all for her.

For in his eyes, no one but him deserved her love. He had watched her grow, seen her beauty blossom like a rare flower in the midst of a concrete jungle. Her laughter was the sweetest melody, her presence a beacon of light in a world consumed by darkness. And he, Brother Day, would be the one to protect her from that darkness, to stand at her side as her unwavering protector.

But his secret obsession remained hidden, locked away in the depths of his heart. For now, he would continue his training, striving to become the greatest Sentinel the Sanctum had ever known, all in the name of the one he loved, the one he would make his queen.

As the years passed, Brother Day's dedication to the Sanctum bore fruit, and he rose in power and influence. He became known as Cleon XII, a name that resonated with authority and respect. His martial prowess was unmatched, and his strategic brilliance was lauded by all. But amidst the clamor of his accomplishments, his secret obsession with (Y/N) remained a driving force.

One evening, while Cleon XII was on the balcony of his lavish quarters overlooking the Sanctum, he overheard the maids who attended to his needs conversing in hushed tones. They spoke of his rising prominence and speculated about when he would take a wife, as was expected of a man of his stature.

Their words echoed in his mind, and Cleon XII knew that the time had come. It was the perfect moment to begin courting (Y/N), to make his intentions clear. He couldn't let anyone else claim her heart. She would be his queen, and he would ensure her safety and happiness for the rest of their days.

With newfound determination, Cleon XII set out to find (Y/N). He knew her routines well and had learned that she often went shopping at the marketplace in the evenings. He tracked her there, his heart pounding with anticipation.

As he approached her, Cleon XII couldn't resist the urge to tease her a bit. He came up behind her, causing her to startle as she turned around. Her initial surprise quickly melted into a warm smile when she saw who it was.

"Cleon XII, don't sneak up behind me," she chided, her eyes sparkling with mirth.

He grinned, unable to contain his amusement. "Can I not surprise my childhood friend?" he retorted, his tone playful.

They walked together through the bustling marketplace, their conversation flowing effortlessly as they caught up on each other's lives. (Y/N) told him about her pursuits and interests, and Cleon XII listened attentively, genuinely fascinated by her every word.

But in the recesses of his mind, he was already plotting. He envisioned all the different ways he could court her, how he would make her his queen, and how their life together would be. She wouldn't need to concern herself with menial tasks like shopping; they would have maids to handle such matters. She would be safe at home, resting, perhaps with their young, their heirs to the throne.

As they strolled through the market, Cleon XII couldn't help but steal glances at (Y/N). She was even more radiant than he remembered, and he was determined to make her his, to share with her the grandeur and power that life as Cleon XII could offer.

The sun dipped low in the sky as Cleon XII's grueling training session at the Sanctum came to an end. He was weary but exhilarated, his muscles honed to perfection. However, today, his thoughts were not solely consumed by combat and strategy; they were filled with (Y/N) and the delicate flower crowns she had woven the night before.

Unable to resist the pull of his newfound infatuation, he followed the trail of petals to find her in a secluded garden, much like the one they had played in as children. She sat there, her nimble fingers working wonders with the blossoms, just as she had done when they were young.

Approaching her, Cleon XII couldn't help but smile as he watched her in silent admiration. She was a vision of grace and beauty, her dedication to the art of creating flower crowns both captivating and endearing.

Without a word, he approached her and asked, "May I join you?"

(Y/N) looked up, her eyes widening in surprise as she registered his presence. A flush of warmth colored her cheeks. "Of course, Cleon XII," she replied, her voice gentle and inviting.

Cleon XII took a seat beside her, a touch of uncertainty in his expression. "I admit, I have never done this before," he confessed, his gaze locked on her delicate hands as they deftly worked the flowers.

Her laughter was like music, a sweet melody that danced through the air. "It's quite simple, really," she said, her fingers guiding his in the delicate process of weaving the blooms together. "You just need patience and a gentle touch."

As she showed him how to create the intricate patterns of a flower crown, Cleon XII found himself utterly entranced by her. He watched her with blissful awe, every stolen glance revealing the depth of his affection.

And then, in a moment of boldness, he blurted out, "Do you wish to go on a date with me?"

The question hung in the air, unexpected and unscripted. (Y/N) blinked in surprise, her cheeks tinted with a becoming shade of pink. She paused for a heartbeat, considering his request, and then a smile bloomed on her lips.

"I would love to," she replied, her eyes meeting his with a newfound warmth that sent a rush of happiness surging through Cleon XII's heart. In that simple moment, amidst the petals and the delicate art of flower crowns, their courtship had begun, destined to blossom into something far greater.

Good step one was now in place..

[victoria-ward420]

Night City, 2077 – The Concrete Jungle

The rain falls in a steady, cold drizzle, catching the neon light of advertisements that flash relentlessly above. The city is alive, but indifferent—cars buzz by on cracked roads, drones fly overhead, and pedestrians walk with eyes down, lost in their own battles. But here, in the heart of the city, is Valentina Rose, a figure who commands attention whether she desires it or not. Her past is as convoluted as the steel and concrete that make up this cybernetic jungle.

Born into the chaotic world of the Valentinos, the city’s largest street gang with a cult-like dedication to their code, Valentina was raised to embrace the culture of family, loyalty, and honor. Her father, a high-ranking member, had big dreams for her, but Valentina had other plans. Her brilliance couldn’t be confined to the streets—no, she was destined for something greater, something sharper.

Arasaka, the corporation that ruled over Night City with an iron grip, had been her ticket out. She climbed through the ranks quickly, using her unmatched intellect and ruthless ambition to become one of their most valuable netrunners. She wore the sleek, high-end suits and dealt in cold, calculated data warfare. For years, she was a queen among sharks, holding her own, mastering the cyberverse with skills few could even fathom. Multiple degrees in finance, engineering, biology—she was the definition of a corporate asset.

But corporations never see people—they only see assets. And when assets become liabilities, they’re discarded like old tech.

One botched job. That’s all it took for Arasaka to throw her to the wolves. A mission went sideways, sabotaged from within, and the failure was pinned squarely on her. Fired. Exiled. Just another disposable asset, discarded by a company that never really valued her.

To make it worse, her boss—no, her lover—the one person she thought she had some semblance of a future with, cut ties with her just as fast. One moment they were sharing drinks in the Afterlife, talking about the next big score; the next, she was blacklisted, shut out of the corporate world she had worked so hard to infiltrate.

Now, she’s a mercenary for hire, navigating the harsh underbelly of Night City, where the lines between man and machine blur, where loyalty is bought with eddies and lost just as fast. But Valentina is no ordinary merc. No, her seductive charm and deadly skills have made her infamous. She doesn’t take just any job—she’s selective, only going after high-profile targets that promise to push her to the limits. Her success rate? 99%. The whispers of the streets speak of her in awe and fear—few have seen her fail, and none have lived to tell the tale.

Her skills are unparalleled. A master netrunner who can breach systems faster than most can blink, wielding viruses like weapons of war. But her proficiency doesn’t stop there. MMA? She can break bones like they’re nothing. Sharp-shooting? Her aim is as precise as any Corpo assassin. Weapon mastery? Few can wield a katana or fire a smart rifle with her finesse. And perhaps most dangerous of all, she’s an expert in human behavior and seduction. She reads people like she reads the net—breaking down their defenses with a smile or a well-placed word.

Tonight – Another Job, Another Dance with Danger

The rainwater splashes up as Valentina walks through the grimy backstreets of Watson, her cybernetic eyes scanning the buildings, the people, always alert. Her deck, a sleek chrome beauty strapped to her back, pulses softly, feeding her constant updates from the net. Messages. Alerts. Data flowing through her like blood.

A new contract had come in hours ago. A high-profile Arasaka executive. The kind of target that could make a merc rich, or get them killed. But this wasn’t just another contract. This was personal.

Arasaka. The same corpo that had discarded her like trash now had a price on the head of one of its own. There’s a certain satisfaction in that. An irony she can’t help but savor.

Her HUD flares to life as her neural link catches an incoming message. A faint shimmer of static runs through her vision before the words appear in glowing text.

“Meet me at Afterlife. We need to talk.”

No name. Just a cryptic handle she recognizes—NightOwl, someone she hasn’t heard from in years. Someone from her past life.

Valentina pauses for a moment under the flashing neon lights of a convenience store. The rain patters against her leather jacket, and the cool mist clings to her skin, but her mind is already calculating. She knows this could be a trap. The streets are full of hunters who’d love to cash in on her head. But it could also be something more—a chance for information, for revenge. The Afterlife isn’t far. A place where the ghosts of Night City’s legends walk, a sanctuary for mercs who survive long enough to make a name.

She taps a quick command into her deck, checking the feeds for any signs of surveillance. No immediate red flags—yet.

Valentina’s dark eyes flicker with cold determination as she makes her decision. She adjusts her katana at her side, tightens the straps on her deck, and begins her walk toward the Afterlife.

The Afterlife – A Den of Shadows

The Afterlife looms before her—an old morgue turned merc bar, now a haven for the best of the best, or the ones who think they are. It’s a place where stories are made, where deals are brokered, and where the wrong move can get you a bullet to the head.

Valentina steps through the heavy doors, her presence causing a ripple through the patrons. She knows what she looks like. Confident. Lethal. Her dark hair falls over her shoulders, a stark contrast to her sleek white jacket and the tattoos that snake down her arms. Eyes follow her, but none dare approach. Not yet.

She makes her way to the bar, every step calculated, purposeful. The bartender, a familiar face, nods in recognition but doesn’t engage in small talk. He knows better. Mercs don’t come here to chat. They come to work.

As she waits for her contact to show, Valentina scans the room with subtle glances. The atmosphere is thick with tension, the air humming with the sounds of hushed conversations and the clinking of glasses. Somewhere in this room, someone knows more about her current contract than they’re letting on.

Moments later, a figure slides into the seat beside her. NightOwl—his once-sharp features now weathered by time and danger. He doesn’t speak at first, just orders a drink, taking his time to settle into the moment. Valentina watches him from the corner of her eye, her mind already dissecting his body language. He’s nervous, but not afrai yet. Finally, he speaks, voice low and guarded. “Valentina, I knew you’d take the job. But there’s more to it than you think. They’re watching you. Arasaka never really lets go.”

She arches an eyebrow, leaning slightly closer, her voice a seductive purr hiding the razor-sharp edge beneath. “Let me guess, you’re here to warn me out of the goodness of your heart?” He smirks, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Hardly. I have my reasons. And if you want to survive this, you’ll need to listen. This isn’t just about taking down some corpo suit. It’s bigger. A lot bigger.”Valentina leans back in her chair, crossing her legs slowly as she considers his words. She can feel the weight of the night pressing in around her, the undercurrents of danger that pulse just beneath the surface.

[talonabraxas]

Yggdrasil:The Sacred World Tree Talon Abraxas

Yggdrasil: Unveiling Mysteries of The Sacred World Tree

Yggdrasil, also known as the Tree of Life, stands at the center of the Norse cosmos, serving as a conduit between the nine realms. Its immense branches extend across the heavens, and its roots delve deep into the great realms, tapping into legendary wells and streams for sustenance. This colossal ash tree serves as a cosmic axis, linking together the realms of gods, humans, giants, and various other beings.

Roots of Yggdrasil

Yggdrasil's roots draw power and sustenance from three different sources. The first root reaches up towards heavens and into Asgard, the realm of the gods, and taps into the well of Urd. Shielded by the root’s magic, by the well stands a beautiful hall that is home to three maidens – Urd, Verdandi, and Skuld – who shape the lives of men and are known as norns.

The second root extends to Jotunheim, the domain of the giants. Here, the root taps into the Mimir’s well, whose waters are coveted by many for containing boundless wisdom and which is guarded by its eternal guardian Mimir. Here, at Mimir’s well, Odin sacrificed his eye for a drink from the well to obtain supreme wisdom and solidify himself as the leader of the Aesir.

The third and final root travels to Niflheim, the icy realm of the dead. This root taps into the wellspring of Hvergelmir, a massive cauldron from which all rivers originate, symbolizing the primordial source of life and creation. This wellspring is a home to many snakes and serpents, with the great dragon Nidhoggr living among them.

Within the vast expanse of Yggdrasil, there exist nine interconnected realms. In addition to Asgard, Midgard, and Niflheim, the World Tree also links to realms such as Vanaheim (abode of the Vanir gods), Alfheim (dwelling of the light elves), Jotunheim (the land of giants), Svartalfheim (the domain of the dwarves), Muspelheim (the realm of fire) and Helheim (abode of the dead). Each realm has its own unique characteristics, inhabitants, and significance within Norse mythology.

Among the Branches of Yggdrasil

Asgard: Home of the Aesir Gods

Asgard, situated atop Yggdrasil's highest branches, is the realm inhabited by the Aesir gods. Ruled by the mighty Odin, Asgard is a place of divine splendor, where grand halls and palaces stand in golden brilliance. It is from Asgard that the gods oversee the mortal realm, engage in epic battles, and prepare for the final battle of Ragnarok.

Midgard: The Realm of Humans

Midgard, often referred to as Earth, is the realm of humankind. Suspended within Yggdrasil's middle branches, it is a world populated by mortals, their settlements, and their adventures. Midgard is constantly influenced by the gods and their actions, shaping the fate of both individuals and civilizations.

Jotunheim: The Land of Giants

Jotunheim, nestled within the roots of Yggdrasil, is a realm inhabited by the jotnar, or giants. These formidable beings range from mountainous brutes to cunning and deceptive creatures. Jotunheim serves as a land of challenges and conflicts, frequently intersecting with the affairs of gods and heroes.

Vanaheim: Abode of the Vanir Gods

Vanaheim is the realm of the Vanir gods, a pantheon associated with fertility, prosperity, and nature. Located within Yggdrasil's branches, Vanaheim is depicted as a lush and fertile land, where bountiful harvests and vibrant ecosystems flourish under the Vanir's watchful eye.

Alfheim: Dwelling of the Light Elves

Alfheim, situated above Midgard, is a realm inhabited by the ethereal and luminous light elves. Known for their beauty and connection to nature, the light elves possess great wisdom and magical abilities. Alfheim is often associated with light, joy, and enchantment.

Svartalfheim: Domain of the Dwarves

Svartalfheim, residing within the depths of Yggdrasil, is the realm of the industrious and skilled dwarves. Known for their craftsmanship and mining expertise, the dwarves forge powerful weapons, legendary artifacts, and intricate treasures. Svartalfheim is a realm of hidden caverns and wondrous craftsmanship.

Niflheim: The Frozen Underworld

Niflheim lies beneath the lowest roots of Yggdrasil, a cold and mist-shrouded realm associated with ice, frost, and darkness. It is home to Hel, the ruler of the dead, and the souls of evil men who passed into this ice realm after traversing Helheim.

Muspelheim: Realm of Fire

Opposite Niflheim, Muspelheim exists as a realm of searing flames and intense heat. Ruled by the fire giant Surtr, Muspelheim embodies the primal power of fire and is foretold to be instrumental in the apocalyptic event of Ragnarok.

Helheim: Abode of the Dead

Helheim is a realm of the dead, located beneath the roots of Yggdrasil. It is a somber and desolate place ruled by the goddess Hel, where souls who did not attain glory in battle or gain entrance to other afterlife realms reside. It represents the acceptance of mortality and the finality of death in Norse mythology.

Inhabitants of Yggdrasil

Yggdrasil is not only a physical entity but is also inhabited by various mythical creatures. Beneath its roots resides Nidhoggr, a colossal dragon who gnaws at the roots of the tree, representing decay and destruction. The eagle perched on Yggdrasil's highest branches looks down on Nidhoggr below, embodying knowledge and inaction. The squirrel Ratatoskr scurries up and down the tree, acting like a messenger between Nidhoggr and the unnamed eagle, fanning the flames of hate between them by spreading nasty rumors and ferrying insults that one has for another. These inhabitants further contribute to the vivid and complex tapestry of Norse mythology.

Symbolism of the World Tree

Yggdrasil is a profound symbol in Norse mythology, representing the interconnectedness of all things in the cosmos. It embodies the cyclical nature of life, death, and rebirth, underscoring the idea of continuous renewal and regeneration. As a world tree, it also symbolizes the axis mundi, a universal concept found in many mythologies, where the physical and spiritual realms meet.

The image of the tree resonates deeply with human existence, reflecting the innate human desire to seek meaning and connectivity. It reminds us of the intricate web of relationships that bind us to the natural world and the forces beyond our comprehension.

Yggdrasil, the World Tree of Norse mythology, is a powerful symbol that encapsulates the cosmos and its profound interconnections. It serves as a gateway to the realms of gods, giants, and the dead, and its roots tap into the wellsprings of cosmic wisdom and primal creation. As we delve into the mysteries of Norse mythology, we unravel the layers of symbolism embedded in this awe-inspiring ancient tree, reminding us of our place in the grand tapestry of existence.

So, let us gaze upon Yggdrasil, this towering arboreal monument that stands as a testament to the enduring power and enduring fascination of Norse mythology. May its endless branches forever inspire us to explore the depths of our own roots and seek wisdom in sacrifice.

[the-empress-7]

For more than 4,000 years, emeralds have been among the most valuable of all jewels.

Colombia, located in northern South America, is the country that mines and produces the most emeralds for the global market, as well as the most desirable.

It is estimated that Colombia accounts for 70–90% of the world's emerald market. While commercial grade emeralds are quite plentiful, fine and extra fine quality emeralds are extremely rare. Colombian emeralds over 50 carat can cost much more than diamonds of the same size.

The Colombian departments of Boyacá and Cundinamarca, both in the Eastern Ranges of the Colombian Andes, are the locations where most of the emerald mining takes place.

Although the Colombian emerald trade has a rich history that dates as far back as the pre-Columbian era, the increase in worldwide demand for the industry of the gemstones in the early 20th century has led prices for emeralds to nearly double on the global market.

Until 2016, the Colombian emerald trade was at the center of Colombia's civil conflict, which has plagued the country since the 1950s.

For thousands of years, emeralds have been mined and considered one of the world's most valuable jewels.

The first ever recorded emeralds date back to ancient Egypt, where they were particularly admired by Queen Cleopatra.

In addition to their aesthetic value, emeralds were highly valued in ancient times because they were believed to increase intelligence, protect marriages, ease childbirth, and thought to enable its possessor the power of predicting future events.

An ancient Colombian legend exists of two immortal human beings, a man and a woman—named Fura and Tena—created by the Muisca god Are in order to populate the earth.

The only stipulation by Are was that these two human beings had to remain faithful to each other in order to retain their eternal youth. Fura, the woman, however, did not remain faithful.

As a consequence, their immortality was taken away from them. Both soon aged rapidly, and they eventually died. Are later took pity on the unfortunate beings and turned them into two crags protected from storms and serpents and in whose depths Fura's tears became emeralds.

Today, the Fura and Tena peaks, rising approximately 840 and 500 meters, respectively, above the valley of the Minero River, are the official guardians of Colombia's emerald zone. They are located roughly 30 km north of the mines of Muzo, the location of the largest emerald mines in Colombia.

Historians believe the indigenous people of Colombia mastered the art of mining as early as 500 AD. But Spanish Conquistadors are the ones who are credited with discovering and marketing globally what we now call Colombian emeralds.

Colombia, during pre-colonial times, was occupied by Muzo indigenous people, who were overpowered by Spain in the mid-1500s. It took Spain five decades to overpower the tribal Muzo people who occupied this entire mining area.

Once in control, the Spanish forced this native, indigenous population to work the mining fields that it previously held for many centuries.

Monarchs and the gem-loving royalty in India, Turkey, and Persia eventually sought the New World treasures once the gems arrived in Europe.

These new emerald owners expanded their private collections with spectacular artifacts bedazzled with emeralds between 1600 and 1820, the time frame of Spain's control over the Colombian mines.

After Colombia's independence from Spain in 1819, the new government and other private mining companies assumed mining operations. Over the course of the nineteenth and twentieth centuries, these mines were periodically shut down numerous times because of political situations within the country.

Colombian emeralds are much sought after, and not just because of their superb quality and color. A gem's value depends upon its size, purity, color and brilliance. Even when they are mined in the same area, each individual emerald has its own unique look that sets it apart from the rest.

Dark green is considered to be the most beautiful, scarce, and valuable color for emeralds. An emerald of this color is considered rare and is only found in the deepest mines of Colombia.

The eastern portion of the Andes, between the Boyacá and Cundinamarca departments, is where most Colombian emeralds are mined.

The three major mines in Colombia are Muzo, Coscuez, and Chivor. Muzo and Coscuez are on long-term leases from the government to two Colombian companies, while Chivor is a privately owned mine. Muzo remains the most important emerald mine in the world to this date.

The terms Muzo and Chivor do not always refer to the particular mines that carry the same name. Instead, the two terms, originating from the local indigenous language, often describe the quality and color of emeralds. Muzo refers to a warm, grassy-green emerald, with hints of yellow. Chivor, on the other hand, describes a deeper green color.

Thank you for this great reference material! Colombian emeralds are absolutely world renowned. But, when it comes to wearing the fuck out of emeralds no one can out do the Ambanis. This necklace alone is rumored to be worth $60 million USD 😮‍💨

[soylent-crocodile]

Vizzerdrix (Monster)

(Vizzerdrix by Dave Dorman)

(Behold, a late Easter AND an April Fool's Day special, all wrapped up in one not-so-fluffy bunny! I wanted to capture the idea of a puzzlingly high-value creature with no special effects and not as much combat capability as its peers, so I went with a mad genius. There's also just a couple of tropes here that I tend to avoid- or lean on- if you can spot them. Enjoy!)

CR16 CE Large Aberration HD25

Vizzerdrix are savage beings created by a mad wizard, ravenous beasts who tear apart any who meet their path. It is generally accepted that the vizzerdrix were the last creation of said wizard before being torn apart by vizzerdrix. Unfortunately for the world, her creations bred true, and now vizzerdrix can be found leaving swathes of blood and death in their path. 

A vizzerdrix is a hybrid between a rabbit, a giant, and a piranha, creating a being with incredible intelligence, sharp claws, a craving for destruction and flesh, and big floppy rabbit ears. Vizzerdrix are among the most brilliant beings to exist, and use this to their advantage- they’re expert at evaluating threats, manipulating others, and devising cunning traps. Fortunately for a vizzerdrix’s enemies, they lack any particular abilities to put this brilliance to use, and without external help or tools, must fall back on ripping and tearing. This isn’t to say that a vizzerdrix has distaste for such combat- indeed, tearing other beings apart with their claws and incisors is the deepest pleasure a vizzerdrix can experience, and all their goals and conniving generally works to the end of getting a vizzerdrix a never-ending source of innocent victims to destroy. 

Vizzerdrix are obligate carnivores, only able to digest animal flesh. Despite this, they have a deep craving for root vegetables, which give them incredible indigestion and, occasionally, food poisoning and intense gastric distress. It is suspected that this was a failsafe created by their master and the reason to include rabbit parts, as vizzerdrix will do anything for proper digestive aids that allow them to comfortably eat their favorite food. 

This hulking, clawed beast has powerful human musculature, furless skin, and the head of an angry rabbit. Misc- CR16 CE Large Aberration HD25 Init:+8 Senses: Perception +27 Darkvision 60ft Stats- Str:28(+9) Dex:18(+4) Con:18(+4) Int:32(+11) Wis:9(-1) Cha:20(+5) BAB:+18/+13/+8/+3 Space:10ft Reach:10ft Defense- HP: AC:30(+4 Dexterity, +17 Deflection, -1 Size) Fort:+14 Ref:+12 Will:+17 CMD:39 Resist: Acid 20, Cold 20, Electricity 20, Fire 20 Immunity: Fear Special Defenses: DR5/Adamantine Offense- Bite +24(2d6+9), 2 Claw +25(1d8+9) CMB:+25 Speed:40ft Special Attacks: Rend (2 Claw, 2d8+14) Feats- Improved Initiative, Power Attack (-5/+10), Weapon Focus (Claw), Iron Will, Great Fortitude, Vital Strike, Combat Expertise, Improved Dirty Trick, Improved Disarm, Improved Trip, Greater Dirty Trick, Critical Focus Skills- Acrobatics +27, Climb +17, Escape Artist +32, Knowledge (Arcana, Dungeoneering, Engineering, Geography, Nature, Planes, Religion) +26, Knowledge (Local)* +29, Perception +27, Sense Motive +24, Spellcraft +39, Stealth +32, Survival +27, Swim +17, Use Magic Device +30 Spell-like Abilities- (Caster Level 20, Concentration +25) Dispel Magic /at-will Special Qualities- Ferocity Ecology- Environment- Forests, Swamps (Any) Languages- Common, Aklo, Abyssal, Draconic, Giant Organization- Solitary Treasure- None

[memories-of-ancients]

The Forgotten Battle of Silva Litana, Autumn 216 BC

The year 216 BC was certainly a bad year for Roman civilization and perhaps the worst year of the Roman Republic’s history. Two years into the Second Punic War Hannibal Barca and his Carthaginian Army had crossed the Alps and marched deep into Italy. 

In the summer of 216 BC the Romans assembled the largest Roman army in their history up to that point in order to stop Hannibal once and for all. The two armies met on August 2nd near Cannae in southern Italy. Despite being heavily outnumbered, the Carthaginians managed to surround and annihilate the Roman Army, leaving only 15,000 survivors out of an army of 85,000. The Battle of Cannae would go down in history as Hannibal’s greatest victory, and one of Rome’s worst defeats. In the aftermath another embarrassing and devastating defeat would occur which today is little known, being overshadowed by the horrors of Cannae. Yet the massacre at Silva Litana was in many ways just as devastating and the tactics used would rival the best of Hannibal in terms of ingenuity and brilliance.

Merely a few months after the Battle of Cannae, the Roman Consul Lucius Postumius Albinus raised an army of 25,000 men in order to retaliate against the Boii, a Celtic tribe living in Cisalpine Gaul (Northern Italy) who had allied with and given support to Hannibal. The route took the army through a heavily wooded forest called Litana.

Unfortunately for the Romans, the Boii had predicted this route and had readied a clever ambush.  The only way through the forest was a single small road. Along the road the Boii had cut large notches in the trees so that they would remain standing if unsupported, but could be easily knocked over. Once the Roman army had march deep within the forest, the Boii sprang from their hiding places and began pushing dozens of trees onto the Romans. The large trees easily crushed men, horses, and wagons, and broke apart Roman formations leading to panic and chaos among the Romans. The Roman army broke and scattered in terror as the Boii attacked, allowing the Boii to easily pick off scattered groups of soldiers. The Boii took no prisoners, executing all who surrendered. Out of the 25,000 Romans who marched into the forest, only 10 are said to have escaped, a survival rate that was far worse than even Cannae.

The disaster at Silva Litana only added more bad news for Rome, sending the city into a panic. In desperation the Romans resorted to human sacrifice to appease the gods while recruiting criminals and slaves in order to rebuild the Roman Army. Fortunately for Rome, this was a time in history when the Roman military machine could take a lot of punishment but still keep fighting. After the disasters at Cannae and Litana the Romans changed strategy, preferring to avoid direct battle with Hannibal, instead opening up new fronts in the war to spread out Carthaginian resources. Instead of trying to defeat the Carthaginians with a few decisive battles, the Roman’s settled on slowly grinding down the enemy through long attrition. Hannibal would never conquer Italy or Rome, and while the Romans could afford to lose tens of thousands of men, the Carthaginians could not. While the Romans had the resources to play the long game, the Carthaginians did not. As for the Boii, the Romans retaliated in 193 BC and defeated them at the Battle of Mutina and forced the entire tribe to flee from northern Italy. 

[fushiglow]

If JJK characters were in Non- Curse world, what would their job be if not become Jujutsu Sorcerer (in your opinion)? Why? Please pick your top 5 fav characters...

I love you for asking this, anon ♥ It's an opportunity to wax lyrical about something I've given a great deal of thought! These are my instinctive answers, although I could make arguments for a number of other professions for each of them depending on the life choices they made in this hypothetical non-curse world — but we don't need to get into that! So, here I go (in no particular order):

Yūta is an emergency paediatric surgeon

When he was young, he made the decision to become a trauma surgeon after losing his childhood friend in a car accident. He spent some time in hospital as a child and he knows what a scary place it can be for children, so he always does his best to make his patients smile when he's checking in on their progress.

He's brilliant at what he does — a once in a generation talent — but that doesn't mean he can save everyone. It's heartbreaking work on a good day, but when he's been at work for approaching 30 hours and he feels like he wants out, he looks at the photo of Rika in his locker and finds the strength to go on.

Kenjaku is a performer

If the average Japanese human enjoys at least 80 rotations around the sun, why waste them by playing the same role every time? That's Kenjaku's outlook on life — which is why they chose to go into acting. However, they quickly became bored by other people's narrow view of the world, dissatisfied by the limits of everyone else's imagination.

Nowadays, Kenjaku marches to the beat of their own drum in a one-person show. There are more than ten roles available, all of them played by Kenjaku — who is also the writer, producer, and director. Critics can't decide whether it's madness or sheer brilliance.

Megumi is a vet

He's grumpy with humans, especially if they're irresponsible pet owners. However, he's soft as anything with the animals, and his regular clients trust him implicitly with their beloved furry family members — because it's obvious how much they love him.

Megumi is really good at his job, but he's guilty of taking his work home with him and finds it difficult not to get emotionally attached to the animals he's treating, even after years in the profession. Although he'd never hesitate to make difficult decisions, the unique ethical dilemmas his job presents take a toll on his wellbeing — especially when human cruelty or indifference come into play.

Suguru is a school teacher

Teaching is neither recognised nor appreciated by most people. However, although Suguru had the brains to follow his friends into their highly respected fields, he couldn't imagine anything more rewarding than doing his part to ensure that the next generation have an easier time of things than he did at the same age.

He tries to be the person he needed when he was at school: a pillar of support for struggling children who have no one else on their side. Unfortunately, the school system seems determined to hurt the very children it's supposed to support, and some of the parents go out of their way to undermine any positive developments he makes with their child — not to mention the terrible pay and working conditions!

Satoru is a physicist

But he could have done anything he put his mind to. In fact, that's the only thing Satoru ever really found difficult in life: choosing one path to follow. Sometimes, he wishes he'd become a musician or a historian or an athlete, but in the end, nothing captured his imagination quite like the limitless bounds of the universe.

He's younger than most of his peers in the field, and his revolutionary ideas (alongside his casual disregard for traditional academic hierarchies) get him in trouble more often than not. However, he's a certified genius, and popular with the media, too. He's doing a lot to improve the image of physicists among the general public — which translates to more funding for research. That keeps them out of his hair, most of the time at least!

-

These are too obvious, but I thought I'd mention them anyway:

Yūji is a firefighter who remembers the names and faces of every single person he couldn't save.

Shōko is a pathologist who devotes herself to improving the diagnosis and treatment of disease, often at the expense of her own health and wellbeing.

Because they're *also* huge nerds, I imagine Sukuna and Yuki as physicists in slightly different fields to Gojō:*

Yuki is a brilliant mind, but she doesn't live up to her potential because she hates the oppressive nature of academia. In fact, she vocally criticises it and goes out of her way to undermine it, to the chagrin of all the old stuffy professors who try to discredit her at every opportunity.

Sukuna, like Gojō, is a genius who's fascinated by what he doesn't know, shaking up the field with his cutting edge (lol) ideas. I like to imagine the pair of them getting into heated arguments at conferences, though they both have enormous (albeit grudging) respect for each other.

*As long as Sukuna is, you know, ~normal~ in this hypothetical non-curse world. Otherwise, he'd be a chef that moonlights as a sadistic serial killer lol.

-

Thank you for the extremely fun question, I had the time of my life! I hope you enjoy my answers ♥

[sincerely-sofie]

I'm struggling to name my own charmander, do you have any tips?

I want the name to sound natural for a pmd environment (aka not a human name)

Smol bits of character I have are:

- likes to fight

- acts first, ask questions later,

- bit of an airhead

- nerd

Oooh, this is a topic I love. Names are such a joy to tinker with when creating characters. I'll start out with a preamble on naming characters in general before getting into specific names I'd recommend for this charmander in particular!

Something to keep in mind about characters when you're naming them is who in the story is doing the naming. What is their relationship with the character? What is their opinion of them? What is their personal background? All of these things will influence the types of names your character might be given. The same is true if your character is naming themself. 

(You can ignore these things if you want to free yourself up as you name your character, of course! I just find it helpful in narrowing down my miles-long lists of names I end up with.)

In the case of Twig, I knew Grovyle was going to name her, and that he was going to come from his grass-type background with most names he had been exposed to. He named her Twig because that's a common name amongst grass-type communities that implies smallness, youth, and on the namer’s end, a devotion and determination to protect the one being named. 

Note that there's no such real-world implications in the English word Twig. It's more often used as a way to call someone scrawny and weak. The beauty of writing a story is that you can do what you want in it, and if you want the pokemon language to have a whole plethora of implications and connotations in their naming system, go for it! Just try and communicate it in the narrative somehow so that readers can enjoy it in full. 

Alright, preamble over. Let's get into the names I've found after searching up “fire related words” and exhausting every online thesaurus known to man. I'm going to assume that your charmander character is named by a fire-type, likely a family member, which will center most of them around literal flames and heat, but I'll throw in some less obvious connections as well

Hearth. This name implies a more cozy, homey setting along with a tame sort of fire. However, it may be fun as a contrasting name for a hot-headed character. 

Ember. A classic fire name, and one with a gentler sound than some of the harsher names below. 

Spark. This might be a good name if your character has moments of brilliance despite their airheadedness— like if their nerdy streak has applications that seem to give them sparks of genius. 

Pepper. An indirectly fire-related name, which may be given by a grass-type or its botanical root or a character who enjoys cooking. 

Illumina. A name describing light— again, something that might be fun for emphasizing a nerdy streak!

Fizz. An onomatopoeia of a campfire hissing and crackling. It might be good for a character that surged up in their temper, but is quick to fizzle out. I think this one is really fun, but that's just me!

Wick. Like a candle wick. I love how this sounds. 

Halo. This name emphasizes light and purity, and might not make much sense with its Christian implications in the PMD world. However, it could be used to refer to halos of light around the sun and similar things, which would negate that issue!

Aurora. I see this as being a name popular among both ice-types and fire-types. 

Sol / Soul. Depending on how you spell it, this name is a reference to either the intensity of the sun or your character’s shining spirit. Or both, if you use some fun worldbuilding shenanigans!

Pine. A bit of a stretch, maybe, but I like the idea of referencing pine cones which release seeds amidst forest fires. 

Mallow. Like the above, a reference to bush mallow and baker's globe mallow, types of plant that thrives in the aftermath of fires. 

And finally, Lychee, at my little sister's recommendation!

[dailyanarchistposts]

Appendix VII: The Origin of the Family

At the time when I wrote the chapter inserted in the text, a certain accord seemed to have been established amongst anthropologists concerning the relatively late appearance, in the institutions of men, of the patriarchal family, such as we know it among the Hebrews, or in Imperial Rome. However, works have been published since, in which the ideas promulgated by Bachofen and MacLennan, systematized especially by Morgan, and further developed and confirmed by Post, Maxim Kovalevsky, and Lubbock, were contested — the most important of such works being by the Danish Professor, C.N. Starcke (Primitive Family, 1889), and by the Helsingfors Professor, Edward Westermarck (The History of Human Marriage, 1891; 2nd ed. 1894). The same has happened with this question of primitive marriage institutions as it happened with the question of the primitive land-ownership institutions. When the ideas of Maurer and Nasse on the village community developed by quite a school of gifted explorers, and those of all modern anthropologists upon the primitively communistic constitution of the clan had nearly won general acceptance — they called forth the appearance of such works as those of Fustel de Coulanges in France, the Oxford Professor Seebohm in England, and several others, in which an attempt was made — with more brilliancy than real depth of investigation — to undermine these ideas and to cast a doubt upon the conclusions arrived at by modern research (see Prof. Vinogradov’s Preface to his remarkable work, Villainage in England). Similarly, when the ideas about the non-existence of the family at the early tribal stage of mankind began to be accepted by most anthropologists and students of ancient law, they necessarily called forth such works as those of Starcke and Westermarck, in which man was represented, in accordance with the Hebrew tradition, as having started with the family, evidently patriarchal, and never having passed through the stages described by MacLennan, Bachofen, or Morgan. These works, of which the brilliantly-written History of Human Marriage has especially been widely read, have undoubtedly produced a certain effect: those who have not had the opportunity of reading the bulky volumes related to the controversy became hesitating; while some anthropologists, well acquainted with the matter, like the French Professor Durkheim, took a conciliatory, but somewhat undefined attitude.

For the special purpose of a work on Mutual Aid, this controversy may be irrelevant. The fact that men have lived in tribes from the earliest stages of mankind, is not contested, even by those who feel shocked at the idea that man may have passed through a stage when the family as we understand it did not exist. The subject, however, has its own interest and deserves to be mentioned, although it must be remarked that a volume would be required to do it full justice.

When we labour to lift the veil that conceals from us ancient institutions, and especially such institutions as have prevailed at the first appearance of beings of the human type, we are bound — in the necessary absence of direct testimony — to accomplish a most painstaking work of tracing backwards every institution, carefully noting even its faintest traces in habits, customs, traditions, songs, folklore, and so on; and then, combining the separate results of each of these separate studies, to mentally reconstitute the society which would answer to the co-existence of all these institutions. One can consequently understand what a formidable array of facts, and what a vast number of minute studies of particular points is required to come to any safe conclusion. This is exactly what one finds in the monumental work of Bachofen and his followers, but fails to find in the works of the other school. The mass of facts ransacked by Prof. Westermarck is undoubtedly great enough, and his work is certainly very valuable as a criticism; but it hardly will induce those who know the works of Bachofen, Morgan, MacLennan, Post, Kovalevsky, etc., in the originals, and are acquainted with the village-community school, to change their opinions and accept the patriarchal family theory.

Thus the arguments borrowed by Westermarck from the familiar habits of the primates have not, I dare say, the value which he attributes to them. Our knowledge about the family relations amongst the sociable species of monkeys of our own days is extremely uncertain, while the two unsociable species of orang-outan and gorilla must be ruled out of discussion, both being evidently, as I have indicated in the text, decaying species. Still less do we know about the relations which existed between males and females amongst the primates towards the end of the Tertiary period. The species which lived then are probably all extinct, and we have not the slightest idea as to which of them was the ancestral form which Man sprung from. All we can say with any approach to probability is, that various family and tribe relations must have existed in the different ape species, which were extremely numerous at that time; and that great changes must have taken place since in the habits of the primates, similarly to the changes that took place, even within the last two centuries, in the habits of many other mammal species.

The discussion must consequently be limited entirely to human institutions; and in the minute discussion of each separate trace of each early institution, in connection with all that we know about every other institution of the same people or the same tribe, lies the main force of the argument of the school which maintains that the patriarchal family is an institution of a relatively late origin.

There is, in fact, quite a cycle of institutions amongst primitive men, which become fully comprehensible if we accept the ideas of Bachofen and Morgan, but are utterly incomprehensible otherwise. Such are: the communistic life of the clan, so long as it was not split up into separate paternal families; the life in long houses, and in classes occupying separate long houses according to the age and stage of initiation of the youth (M. Maclay, H. Schurz); the restrictions to personal accumulation of property of which several illustrations are given above, in the text; the fact that women taken from another tribe belonged to the whole tribe before becoming private property; and many similar institutions analyzed by Lubbock. This wide cycle of institutions, which fell into decay and finally disappeared in the village-community phase of human development, stand in perfect accord with the “tribal marriage” theory; but they are mostly left unnoticed by the followers of the patriarchal family school. This is certainly not the proper way of discussing the problem. Primitive men have not several superposed or juxtaposed institutions as we have now. They have but one institution, the clan, which embodies all the mutual relations of the members of the clan. Marriage-relations and possession-relations are clan-relations. And the last that we might expect from the defenders of the patriarchal family theory would be to show us how the just mentioned cycle of institutions (which disappear later on) could have existed in an agglomeration of men living under a system contradictory of such institutions — the system of separate families governed by the pater familias.

Again, one cannot recognize scientific value in the way in which certain serious difficulties are set aside by the promoters of the patriarchal family theory. Thus, Morgan has proved by a considerable amount of evidence that a strictly-kept “classificatory group system” exists with many primitive tribes, and that all the individuals of the same category address each other as if they were brothers and sisters, while the individuals of a younger category will address their mothers’ sisters as mothers, and so on. To say that this must be a simple façon de parler — a way of expressing respect to age — is certainly an easy method of getting rid of the difficulty of explaining, why this special mode of expressing respect, and not some other, has prevailed among so many peoples of different origin, so as to survive with many of them up to the present day? One may surely admit that ma and pa are the syllables which are easiest to pronounce for a baby, but the question is — Why this part of “baby language” is used by full-grown people, and is applied to a certain strictly-defined category of persons? Why, with so many tribes in which the mother and her sisters are called ma, the father is designated by tiatia (similar to diadia — uncle), dad, da or pa? Why the appellation of mother given to maternal aunts is supplanted later on by a separate name? And so on. But when we learn that with many savages the mother’s sister takes as responsible a part in bringing up a child as the mother itself, and that, if death takes away a beloved child, the other “mother” (the mother’s sister) will sacrifice herself to accompany the child in its journey into the other world — we surely see in these names something much more profound than a mere façon de parler, or a way of testifying respect. The more so when we learn of the existence of quite a cycle of survivals (Lubbock, Kovalevsky, Post have fully discussed them), all pointing in the same direction. Of course it may be said that kinship is reckoned on the maternal side “because the child remains more with its mother,” or we may explain the fact that a man’s children by several wives of different tribes belong to their mothers’ clans in consequence of the savages’ ignorance of physiology;” but these are not arguments even approximately adequate to the seriousness of the questions involved — especially when it is known that the obligation of bearing the mother’s name implies belonging to the mother’s clan in all respects: that is, involves a right to all the belongings of the maternal clan, as well as the right of being protected by it, never to be assailed by any one of it, and the duty of revenging offences on its behalf.

Even if we were to admit for a moment the satisfactory nature of such explanations, we should soon find out that a separate explanation has to be given for each category of such facts — and they are very numerous. To mention but a few of them, there is: the division of clans into classes, at a time when there is no division as regards property or social condition; exogamy and all the consequent customs enumerated by Lubbock; the blood covenant and a series of similar customs intended to testify the unity of descent; the appearance of family gods subsequent to the existence of clan gods; the exchange of wives which exists not only with Eskimos in times of calamity, but is also widely spread among many other tribes of a quite different origin; the looseness of nuptial ties the lower we descend in civilization; the compound marriages — several men marrying one wife who belongs to them in turns; the abolition of the marriage restrictions during festivals, or on each fifth, sixth, etc., day; the cohabitation of families in “long houses”; the obligation of rearing the orphan falling, even at a late period, upon the maternal uncle; the considerable number of transitory forms showing the gradual passage from maternal descent to paternal descent; the limitation of the number of children by the clan — not by the family — and the abolition of this harsh clause in times of plenty; family restrictions coming after the clan restrictions; the sacrifice of the old relatives to the tribe; the tribal lex talionis and many other habits and customs which become a “family matter” only when we find the family, in the modern sense of the word, finally constituted; the nuptial and pre-nuptial ceremonies of which striking illustrations may be found in the work of Sir John Lubbock, and of several modern Russian explorers; the absence of marriage solemnities where the line of descent is matriarchal, and the appearance of such solemnities with tribes following the paternal line of descent — all these and many others[317] showing that, as Durckheim remarks, marriage proper “is only tolerated and prevented by antagonist forces;” the destruction at the death of the individual of what belonged to him personally; and finally, all the formidable array of survivals,[318] myths (Bachofen and his many followers), folklore, etc., all telling in the same direction.

Of course, all this does not prove that there was a period when woman was regarded as superior to man, or was the “head” of the clan; this is a quite distinct matter, and my personal opinion is that no such period has ever existed; nor does it prove that there was a time when no tribal restrictions to the union of sexes existed — this would have been absolutely contrary to all known evidence. But when all the facts lately brought to light are considered in their mutual dependency, it is impossible not to recognize that if isolated couples, with their children, have possibly existed even in the primitive clan, these incipient families were tolerated exceptions only, not the institution of the time.

[lightdancer1]

Speaking of that bigger discussion:

One of the elements that makes Buffy simultaneously superb when it's good and mediocre to awful when it isn't is that each of the main characters goes through very different arcs. Spike is the Anne Rice vampire, Angel is a heroic version of Konrad Curze, Buffy has the classical hero's journey, Giles is the Obi-Wan who never quite dies, Dawn is the Lovecraftian monster who's equal parts adorable and annoying (so the ultimate little sister), Xander has the reliable and unfortunately human aspects of being the normal guy who normal guys. Anya is the unrepentant murderous sadist who's charismatic and effective with her powers and a dork among dorks without them.

Willow, OTOH, has the arc that is at the most radically divergent with everyone else. Everyone else to a point fits in neatly with the genre conventions here, Willow fits straight into the DC or Marvel kind of setting of higher-powered superpowered being who had to be downplayed in Season 7 for the same reasons the DCAU struggled to write Superman. Everyone else leads a horror-comedy where the two poles of their lives grind against each other like icebergs in the Arctic or Antarctic Sea.

Willow lives an arc rooted in a much more direct superhero element, but where other people might expect Superman or Batman (and Angel is closer to Batman than anyone here, hence the Konrad Curze joke), she is unknown to herself living Jean Grey going Dark Phoenix and being both easily forgiven and avoiding the Dark Phoenix problem thanks to the comics of being given a pass by her actions being completely separated from her.

Each of the main characters in Buffy has at least three major genres overlapping and shaping their lives. Giles, Faith, Buffy, the Potentials turned Slayers, and the monsters they fight, as well as Tara and Amy Madison are all living the life of urban fantasy, deeply rooted in that old order as direct embodiments of its ideals (The Master and Kakistos for the villains, Kendra and Quentin Travers for the heroes), or rebelling against it (Buffy and Tara), or going down the hero to villain path, either with a way back or not (Faith and Amy Madison).

Xander is living the most direct Kolchak the Night Stalker kind of urban fantasy life. Perfectly normal dude in a world of demonic monsters out there trying to erase all human life and even demonic life as well, who goes out there to fight the good fight.

And then there's Willow, whose life is straight out of the X-Men arcs.....including the one where the hero went nuts and tried to kill a bunch of people and had to be brought down by her own side. As characters in a work don't know the genre they're in, this is IMO the ultimate reason some form of Dark Willow was always inevitable. Willow being who she is and what she is, with her brilliance and all, was pretty much assured to go straight into magic as soon as she knew it existed. With her brilliance she would grasp power without understanding precision or all the nuances of using it.

Insofar as the characters know they're living any kind of genre experience, it's urban fantasy. All the trappings of modern life with vampires and dragons in the shadowy alleys of a modern urban region. So when one of them is living an iconic superhero arc and perhaps under the impression it's one of the more classical goofy Silver Age ones, failure to understand that or how swiftly things go wrong is perhaps the biggest single reason why Willow's path to the dark side, even temporarily, is likely to happen.

Almost nobody human would take access to the kind of power she discovers she has well. As she's the most powerful sorceress on Earth, at minimum, her capacity for fuckups are correspondingly bigger. And as long as her friends just thought of how cute she was it was never going to occur to them that her small fuckups which are humongous deals by the standards of other sorcerers might one day be less handwaved and funny and more 'bring the brown pants' tier terrifying.

Admittedly this is why 2020s me likes Willow even more than 2000s me did, woman gains enormous power but is entirely human about wielding it is my jam, writing-wise, and it makes writing Willow a lot more fun as she's one of the few canon characters that comes closest to the kind of vibe I like to work with.

[snackleggg]

Icarus and The Sun

A little Thoschei drabble

~~~

The Master prided himself on his knowledge. He needed it any way he could get his hands on. Practical skill, theoretical. In every field, in every galaxy, he needed to hoard it like he could bury the drums beneath it all.

So, of course, after spending so much time on the primitive planet of Earth, he had learned much. One of the few things he actually enjoyed out of all the knowledge Earth had to offer was mythology. Humans, for as dim-witted and pudding brained as they were, were surprisingly good story tellers. It also helped that most mythologies on Earth were entertainingly bleak, like the one about the planet itself being a primordial evil entity that wanted to eat everything. Very entertaining.

One of the mythologies that he appreciated the most was probably the Ancient Greeks. Philosophers, theatrical, and the experts of tragedies, the Master found many of their myths the most entertaining of all.

He also found his mind drifting to their metaphors, their meanings. After all, he was a bit of a poet himself. He loved dramatic irony and theatrics, at least.

One story that intrigued him greatly was the story of Icarus. A story about hubris, as the Greeks were so found of. But stories rarely ever have just one interpretation, and his mind drifted to the other ways someone could see it.

A man, a simple mortal with wax wings, flying up and up despite the warning of those around him, until he was so close to the sun, Apollo, a brilliant and radiant God, that his wings melted and he fell to his demise in the sea.

When trying to picture the God of the Sun in these stories, all he could see was blond curly hair and bright golden eyes, a smiling young man among red grass. He shut the thought away, the face too familiar despite the fact that they hadn't worn it in centuries.

But it was true, wasn't it?

He wasn't a moon or a satellite or whatever other metaphors were used in relation to the sun.

No.

He was Icarus.

And his wax wings had melted long ago. Leaving him to drown in the sea of his own insanity, always too far away from his sun for them to help him.

He didn't care if he was burnt to crisp. If their brilliance and danger ate him up and left him as nothing, he just wanted their warm arms around him, their eyes that always seemed to have a gold tint to them in every body to gaze upon him and him alone. He didn't care if the full force of their affection and focus left him scorched and ash. He already burned brightly with his own anger. What was that in comparison to burning with love?

...

He REALLY needed to distract himself with another diabolical scheme. He was starting to think in poetically tragic metaphors, and the one time he'd let himself go too far down that route, he'd ended up eating ice cream while re-watching Pride and Prejudice for the 300th time.

Ugh, feelings.