#understanding who they are outside of the barriers of good and evil

[ntaras]

i’m going to kill everyone on the internet

[dev-mars]

Malachi being 900 years old is crazy. I love him but that makes no sense. How is he literally not completely insane after being isolated by himself for that long. He was slightly evil for little bit but like he just acts like a normal kid. Plus, language changes so rapidly the gang probably wouldn’t even be able to understand Malachi. He would basically be speaking a whole different language.

Honestly, if you wanted him to be from a different time period the story could be that he was basically dormant or asleep for most of the 900 years then he gets awoken. Maybe he wakes up because Irene was reborn as Aphmau and this caused the balance of the entire world to shift. Then when Aphmau meets Malachi she’s the only one who can understand him because she can still understand languages that Irene knew. That would give Malachi a good reason to latch on to Aphmau so much. It would also make Aphmau feel directly responsible for him because she’s one of the few people easily able to connect with him.

Like, Aphmau is kind enough to take in any child she meets but I think it would be interesting to make that situation more nuanced. Malachi desperately wants to form connections with other people and at first Aphmau is the only one who can give him that. This leads him to be more trusting of Aphmau. Also, I think it would be really cute for Laurance to try everything in his power to connect with Malachi despite there being a language barrier (probably all of the boys would do this but Laurance especially because he sees himself in Malachi and he stays with him at the castle.) I can picture him making a fool of himself like pretending to fall or making silly faces at him just to get Malachi to laugh. Then soon after the castle the group meets Lucinda who later can create a potion or enchant an amulet so Malachi can understand everyone. Eventually, he wouldn’t need it anymore because Zoey helps him learn to read and write. Zoey also understands what it’s like to be someone living outside of the regular passage of time so she would be able really understand how Malachi feels.

[a-chaotically-small-lunta]

Okay okay, so we all know the idea of like tiny aliens crashing in a humans yard. With said aliens being either a pilot who had a crash landing, or a team of scientists studying a new world. But what about an escape pod type situation.

Picture it! One day a person is just minding their business maybe they’re gardening outside or typing away at a computer when suddenly something crashes near them (Rip the window if they were inside)looking over they see a crashed alien space ship. Except it’s not slim like the movies and doesn’t even have guns on the side, at least visibly. It’s more bulky and more the size of a decent size rock, one requiring two hands at least. Anyway, a hatch opens and two small aliens step out holding strange weapons (cause ya know aliens) and they look around before seeing the human. Both sides freak out. The tiny aliens shout something back into the ship as they stand guard, but they are shaking.

The person after shaking of the shock of “holy shit aliens are real and they just ruined my roses” notices that the aliens aren’t wearing proper space suits, Nothing fancy at least, but rather normal clothing. No belts, no fancy equipment, something a more day to day person would wear; but what do they know about alien culture. Perhaps more then they think as they notice that through a few of the windows or even on the opened hatch, a few more aliens are appearing, looking out to gaze at the strange huge world they crashed on. That’s when the human figures out that this space ship isn’t for battle, transporting goods, or science. It’s most likely an escape pod, and a big one. Think ships that would transport immigrants to their new home but ya know space. That explains why the two “guards” aren’t trained, it probably wasn’t a super important ship and probably carried whatever the alien equivalent to a lower class was. Maybe this is reflected in the design of the ship, with it not being super fancy or have weapons.

Either way there are still aliens in the persons home. Maybe the human lowers themself down trying to be non-threatening towards the aliens. There’s clearly a language barrier and probably a non-verbal language barrier too. Perhaps the human decides they want to help the aliens and find out what happened. Destroyed home world? Escape of an evil Monarchy? Space Nazis? Who knows!

Somehow the aliens trust the human through very slow non-verbal communication with a few miscommunications with said communication. (How were they supposed to know that the hands up wasn’t peace but meant hungry?) Either way, the pick up the spaceship and all its passengers and puts them in a safer place. Let’s say the aliens and the human build a friendship, even though communication may not be possible, the two species learn a to understand and communicate anyway. Maybe through time the aliens and the human build a small city or settlement for all the aliens who arrived on the ship. Maybe using a pool table and a train table as a base and just slowly expanding to accommodate the growth.

Who knows what happens next. Perhaps they help the aliens rebuild their ship and fit it with a defense system, so that they can continue their journey, and maybe a few decide to stay with the human. Maybe the house is passed down from generation to generation, keeping the aliens secret until they decide it’s time to leave or simply becomes impossible due to population size. Perhaps the government gets involved and our once average human joe has to go and save all their tiny alien friends!

Just tiny aliens. Not all of them have to be scientists and pilots. Some are just people looking for a better place to live

[sylvia-forest]

[CN] Shaw's Dual Cultivation Pact Date - Part 2

⚡Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a Date which hasn’t been released in EN yet!⚡

Proceed at your own risk, I guess? 😂 Although it's not that spicy but still, a warning is a warning 🤭

[Section 3]

A month had passed since I had "swept Shaw out the door," and he had not come back since.

He might also feel a bit embarrassed and angry.

MC: But you can't blame me for this; anyone who heard such words would… Villager: What did you say?

I realized that I had gotten distracted thinking about Shaw again, so I quickly cleared my throat and refocused my attention.

MC: It's nothing. You just said that there was evil energy surging under the mountain? Villager: That’s right! I don’t know what happened this time, but the formation barriers you set up don’t seem to have any effect!! Villager: Although Taoist Master Shaw doesn’t permit us to come to find you, we saw his condition and it was truly… MC: Shaw? What happened to him?

Startled, I interrupted him. The villagers were surprised to see me speaking so urgently and were taken aback, but they still answered honestly.

Villager: Wasn't it you who sent Master Shaw down the mountain to help us exorcize demons and spirits? There have been too many demons recently, and he has been busy running around everywhere. Villager: Perhaps it's because he's been working too hard. In the past month, Master Shaw's temper has become increasingly bad, and his methods for exorcizing demons have become more and more…

The villager hesitated, stammering as they began to speak.

Villager: It feels like... Master Shaw is showing signs of being possessed by demons. MC: ...possessed?!

Seeing me gasp, the villager began to sweat profusely, and their speech quickened.

Villager: We know that Master Shaw is a good person! But we're just afraid that if he starts treating people like this in the future… Villager: Ahem, what I mean is that we are worried about Taoist Master Shaw, so, that’s why we want to ask you to come out and help your disciple! Villager: If he really does something irreversible, it would tarnish the good name of Fairy MC! MC: ...I understand. MC: I'll handle the matter with Shaw. After you go down the mountain, instruct everyone not to go out today. Villager: Yes, I'll go right away!

The villager breathed a sigh of relief, thanked me profusely, and left.

I lowered my eyes and counted with my fingers.

MC: On the seventh day of the seventh month, when the yin energy is at its peak... It turns out it's already come to this.

I gathered my loose hair, secured it with a blue lotus Taoist crown, picked up my horsetail whisk, and headed out the door.

Demons' aura. A sky-high demonic presence.

The setting sun was like blood, with white bones hanging from withered branches, and ghostly flames mingling with cooking smoke.

The mortals had long since shut their doors tightly, afraid to speak carelessly. In the distant mountains, unknown creatures were making sharp, piercing cries.

After hiding away on the mountain for so long, I've almost forgotten that the outside world is actually like this purgatory.

MC: I really miss the old Qixi festivals... That was the true human scene.

I murmured in contemplation as I began to search for Shaw's presence.

The flower scent was wrapped in a heavy stench of blood, making it appear both gaudy and acrid.

MC: Shaw?

Soon, I caught the faint scent of familiar Tumi flowers near the abandoned cemetery in the southeast.

?.?: For every person you've harmed, I'll cut off one of your claws. It's actually a favor to you. ?.?: ...Regardless of whether you've done evil during this time, I find you displeasing now, so I want to eliminate you. Is that not allowed? ?.?: Want to beg for mercy now? It’s no use.

I couldn't make out what the demon was shouting, but Shaw's voice came through clearly from the graveyard, each sentence ending with a distinct note of pleasure.

In the next moment, a scream pierced the air, and the stench of blood grew even stronger.

My heart sank and I hurried over.

Boom— —

Thunder rumbled ominously, and flashes of lightning crisscrossed the sky. In the intermittent light, a tall, slender figure stood firmly in the center.

Around him are the remains of monsters and demons, and the young man stands amidst a sea of blood. At this moment, he does not seem like a righteous defender of justice, but more like…

Bloodthirsty demon.

...Shaw's cultivation has already reached its peak.

I watched the scene before me with my heart racing, almost stirring up some repressed impulse.

Shaw's God-striking Whip was swinging continuously in his hand, while a demon beast dodged left and right. In the end, it was struck by a bolt of lightning and was obliterated with a scream.

Shaw: I said it was useless, so why bother running?

Shaw's brows and eyes were full of exuberance, with a smile of extreme pleasure at the corner of his mouth, as he reveled in the brutal scene.

Shaw: I'm in a very bad mood this month. I can only say that you are unlucky and happened to meet me.

As he spoke, he took out the talisman and chanted the incantation.

[He recites an incantation here which is kinda hard to translate]

——He wants to summon the Five Gods of Thunder?! Just to annihilate these monsters?!

Without a moment's hesitation, I waved my whisk and immediately sealed the talisman he was about to ignite.

It was only then that he noticed my presence. In an instant, Shaw's gaze was more dazzling than lightning, nearly blinding me.

Shaw: .......You are finally willing to come. MC: ….Shaw!

I stretched out my hand towards him and spoke hastily.

MC: You can't kill anymore now, otherwise you will become a demon! MC: Come with me, I'll help you stabilize your Taoist mind!

Shaw stared at me intently, and after a while, he finally broke into a smile.

Shaw: Good.

Before he finished speaking, he fell forward.

I quickly teleported over to support him. Even through the layer of clothing, I could feel how intensely hot his body was.

MC: ….It can’t be delayed any longer.

I no longer hesitated and took Shaw to a broken house near the mass grave and began to set up formations for him.

Shaw [in pain]: Mm—

In the instant the light flared, a look of pain immediately appeared on Shaw's face.

MC: Is it difficult? Just bear with it a little longer…

Shaw [breathing heavily]: Not uncomfortable.

Shaw interrupted my words, breathing heavily.

Shaw [hesitantly]: I thought...I thought you didn't want to see me anymore

My breath caught, and I instinctively wanted to respond to the unspoken feelings before me.

However, Shaw's vibrant, living form and the red cinnabar symbols that had fallen around him reminded me of my true purpose for coming here.

MC: How could this be?

Another yellow talisman fell, and the dense array of runes bound Shaw, leaving him unable to move.

My fingers gently caressed his heaving chest and came to rest on his heart.

MC: You are my most precious furnace, why don’t I come to see you?

The light from the talisman illuminated the dim old house and also lit up my path.

A black crane perches on the hem of my skirt, its wings poised to fly.

—

[Section 4]

After Shaw heard what I said, a smile appeared on his lips.

Shaw [In a light voice + breathing heavily x1]: Fairy Xuanhe, you finally don’t want to pretend anymore? MC: The goal has already been achieved; why pretend?

I casually replied to him while drawing symbols, as if we were in my courtyard rather than this run-down house.

MC: I was surprised. When did you know about it? Shaw [x2]: Known it from the beginning.

My fingers paused. He raised his eyebrows at me triumphantly.

Shaw [x3]: Back then, Fairy Xuanhe, burdened with too much bloodshed, was hunted down by ten righteous paths and fell into these mountains. Shaw [x4]: After just three to five years, a Taoist priestess named MC suddenly appeared in the mountains. Shaw [x5]: With profound skills and a kind heart, they set up great formations to protect the safety and security of the people around them. Shaw [x6]: It's really... admirable.

Shaw’s breathing was rapid. Although he was clearly talking about me, his tone was so mocking, as if he were recounting someone else’s story. I felt a surge of irritation rise from the bottom of my heart and couldn't help but retort.

MC: So, you were sent by those idiots to test me?

Shaw [coldly]: Do they even deserve it?

Shaw sneered and raised his chin.

Shaw [whispers]: I just wanted to see you myself.

His gaze slowly moved from my brows, down to my nose, to my lips, to my throat... Finally, as if discovering something, it settled on my heart.

Shaw: .....No wonder you have been staying in that yard and refused to come out. MC: I didn’t refuse to come out. Shaw: In fact, you sealed yourself in that courtyard. MC: I didn't… Shaw: The demonic aura has long invaded your heart and mind; you are the one who has fallen into darkness. MC: I'm just about to become a demon!

I blurted out, my anger surging suddenly. I reached out forcefully, intending to strangle the man in front of me who was spouting nonsense.

However, as soon as my fingertips touched the blood vessels on his neck, they were immediately burned and recoiled.

The burning pain brought me back to clarity. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to calm my emotions.

MC: Shaw, I’m just... about to fall into darkness. MC: And with you as the furnace here, I can definitely dispel all the demonic aura.

Shaw's throat moved slightly as if he had finally realized something.

Shaw [surprised]: You want to practice dual cultivation with me...? MC: What else?

I chuckled and slowly stretched out my arms to hug Shaw from behind.

The intense yang energy filled Shaw’s robust body, like a flame that would never extinguish.

The robe was exceptionally loose after the battle, but with a casual flick, it fell into place.

My fingers measured every inch of his hot skin, and the wonderful touch made me addicted.

MC: Life is so joyful in the mortal world; I have no intention of falling into darkness. MC: Over the years, I have devoted myself to research and finally invented a method of harmonizing yin and yang.

Shaw clearly remembered the books he had borrowed. He raised an eyebrow and made an effort to turn his head to look at me.

Shaw: Because demonic energy is extremely yin, you're planning to find an extremely yang 'container' to balance it out. MC: That's right.

I turned my fingers and lifted Shaw's chin with a whisk.

This is the first time I've seen my... cauldron up close.

From this angle, I noticed his eyelashes were so long, his nose bridge so straight, and there was a thin layer of sweat at the corners of his brows, fine and dense.

MC: Shaw, you came to me of your own accord. MC: It is you who want to practice my techniques.

I silently executed the spell and infused the final incantation into Shaw’s dantian.

The fragrance of tea flowers instantly filled every corner of the room.

I know it's ripe.

Shaw, with no strength to resist, was pressed to the ground by me.

On the Qixi festival, the day of extreme yin, with the body of extreme yang, everything was perfect.

My breathing was even faster than Shaw's. The demonic energy that had been suppressed for a long time was no longer in shackles of the seal. It was jolting left and right in my body and was in desperate need of an outlet.

MC: I…

I was like a moth endlessly circling, instinctively drawn to an untouchable blaze, yet fleeing in panic just a second before being consumed by the flames.

For a moment, I even felt that the decision to practice dual cultivation was extremely stupid.

Because it was too hot and painful.

I bit my lower lip and gripped Shaw's shoulders almost with hatred, my nails drawing faint blood marks on his skin.

——Why? Why should I go through this?

As the Xuanhe Fairy, I have always wanted to live according to my true nature and have never harmed a mortal.

Before the demonic energy entered my body, I was said to be weird, rebellious, and unreasonable; after the demonic energy entered my body, I was said to be cruel and suspected of evil intentions.

These fools have also pinned some baseless charges on me and summoned ten righteous factions to kill me...

Why should I endure this!

Unconsciously, blood began to seep into my vision, and the smell of blood rising in my throat gradually overpowered the floral scent, filling my nostrils.

Shaw: MC, MC….! MC: What?

Shaw called my name several times before I woke up from my daze and looked at him blankly.

He was sweating all over, gritting his teeth, and obviously felt uncomfortable, but his golden eyes were still bright, reflecting only my figure.

Even though I was in a mess and my blue lotus Taoist crown was crooked.

Shaw [HIS HOARSE VOICE SOUNDED SO ASKFSGH x1]: MC, give me your breath. MC: ....Transfer Qi?

My mind was so dizzy that I didn't even understand what these two words meant. Shaw suppressed his breath and sneered.

Shaw [x2]: If you want to practice dual cultivation, of course you have to transfer your Qi.

Oh, indeed, the breath could also settle into the lower abdomen. I thought groggily as I leaned closer to Shaw's lips.

In the instant our breaths intertwined, I was pulled into a vortex named Shaw. 

His tongue entwined with mine, then released, only to forcefully invade again, exploring every corner of my mouth, sending shivers down my spine. 

This wasn't me giving him air at all; it was clearly... him taking it from me.

The sound of the rubbing of clothes mixed with my heartbeat, infinitely amplified in my ears, and the burning sensation that was originally painful to me gradually became less unbearable.

At this moment, it seems that the vigorous yang energy and the deep yin energy have finally found a point of resonance, beginning to tentatively merge.

My vision kept wavering, and the scene before me became a kaleidoscope of colors. The painful memories of the past gradually receded like a retreating tide.

By accident, my mind suddenly recalled a small incident when the evil energy had not poured into China and everything was still too peaceful.

That day seemed to be the Qixi festival. I was wandering in the market and met a young man.

The young man said he had someone he loved and asked me if I had any spells that could help him.

What happened next? Did I help him…?

Shaw [annoyed]: You're distracted. MC: I didn't…

All my words were swallowed up by him, and Shaw didn't want to listen to me at all.

He inexplicably began to refuse to cooperate, causing the yin and yang energy that had already been harmonized to change suddenly. I couldn't help but want to hide, but my waist was firmly held by him.

MC: This… This is not right…

I clutched the nearly shapeless talisman papers tightly and spoke intermittently.

MC [blushing]: It should be me… MC [blushing]: It should be me taking your original yang energy; this is the only solution. Otherwise, I...!

I whimpered briefly, the stimulation was too strong and I had nowhere to escape, I could only scream like a rogue.

MC [blushing]: You are my furnace, you must be willing to help me achieve success!

Shaw [breathing heavily + that low seductive voice of his x1]: Who says I'm not willing?

Hot sweat and Shaw's voice both fell into my ears, as he chuckled softly.

Shaw [x2]: I realized... that although you are a talented demon practitioner, you’re also quite foolish. Shaw [x3]: Why do you think I've been practicing your techniques all along?

It's too hot. My mind can no longer understand his words; I just shake my head, trying to escape, but Shaw won't let me.

His lips repeatedly kissed my earlobe, whispering in the closest proximity.

Shaw [x4]: As I said, I will do my best and risk everything I have for the person I like.

Every time Shaw said a word, I felt the violent demonic energy in my body fade a little—

He didn’t have his original yang energy taken by me; instead, he used his yang energy to completely eliminate the demonic energy.

MC: You... you changed my technique? Were you deceiving me?!

Shaw [x6]: Is that not acceptable? Shaw [x7]: Who told you to lie to me back then?

Shaw lifted me up forcefully as if to punish me, and I fell into his tender kisses.

Shaw [x8]: On that Qixi Festival, I told you I liked you and asked if there was a spell to make you like me too. How did you respond? MC: What?

Was that boy Shaw?

My memory doesn’t quite match up with this. Could it be that the years of demonic energy have damaged my mind?

I was speechless and couldn't explain anything. Shaw’s chest rumbled with laughter as he smiled.

Shaw [x9]: Forget it if you don’t remember. Anyway, I already got what I wanted.

After all, I was pulled into the whirlpool by him again.

In the midst of the chaos, I almost had the illusion that Shaw had risked even more than I had imagined.

No, it's not an illusion.

MC: Shaw. 

I reached out my hand and brushed away Shaw's messy hair, wanting to look into his eyes again.

—

📿 Call 1

📿 Call 2

[sheepheadfred]

Ectoberhaunt Day 17: Cosmic Horror

Summary: All that exists continues to grow out of control without Balance. Human mortals threaten that in order to control for themselves.

Ao3 link

The endless expanse continues to stretch and yawn. Bigger and bigger yet never thinning. Never stopping.

A never ending hunger to grow.

All encompassing voids and those that fill it existing in every realm and dimension. Forever at war. Forever in a dance.

The void wanting to exist and expand and the something else desiring the same.

All things exist in twos.

Time and Space.

Matter and Void.

Light and Dark.

Life and Death.

The twos became a three to keep them from overtaking the other.

All existing yet in balance.

And sometimes Balance is given form to help the two opposite yet equal sides not overtake the other.

Those smaller things that cannot grasp Balance will always seek to harness one or the other. Sometimes both.

If they disrupt Balance too greatly, all will collapse for their section of reality. Reality as a whole will continue, but the wound may take a long time to heal.

Parts of Balance exist in smaller parts, unique shapes to the different realities.

Time can be in any form. In this reality they call themself Clockwork.

Clockwork is aware of the infinite, at least their section of it, and waits for Space to catch up. They can wait, as it will happen as it has many times before.

It only makes sense that Time's Balance, Space, will be in the mirror realm connected to theirs.

Space, Time's Balance, was reclusive like their counter. Reclusive, yet all encompassing. You cannot escape space just like you cannot out run time.

The small things inside Space, the ones calling themselves humans, wanted to break the delicate barrier into the realm that Time resides. The realm of the dead filled with the energy of death.

Mortals who lack understanding already thought they knew all about such matters. Assigning 'Good' and 'Evil' to things and belonging to a morality they themselves invented. When it is just the natural way of things. The expanse of Infinite does not account for things like 'Fairness' and 'Justice', only 'is' and 'must' and 'what never will' and potential. So much potential lost or gained from many variables.

The two mortals who had sought to understand and even erase the 'Evil' from death's hand. They managed to search into the unknown for answers and the speck they managed to see gave them none but a hunger for more. An unknown that was seen by three before death touched him and he drifted away.

The mortals slowly lost themselves in this worsening obsession. A portal. A permanent gateway between! This realm gained Time's interest from the beyond in them wanting to do so. A chance to understand death and appreciate life! Space was curious but Time was not so hopeful.

This gateway did succeed, but not in the way the mortal couple hoped for outside of their knowledge.

A young mortal, still and already but a boy had come into being as a paradox Time was fascinated with him long before they realized what it meant.

Balance had chosen an avatar.

Balance's avatar was a perfect balance between Life and Death with a love of Space and is loved by Time.

The boy, both mortal and dead, does his best to bridge the gap between both worlds. Allies and friends gained as he slowly unlearns the bias his parents forced on him.

But one boy is not enough to change the views of the world where adults assume they always know best.

Sad but true. Especially for him.

Tragedy of powerlessness in the ways that matter.

Time would see this coming and it still greatly saddens them.

Time and Space do their best to protect their Balance, a child blessed by both yet burdened by hardship. Force him into a new reality, one far from their corner of the infinite with only a few blessings and keepsakes from his allies before the end.

For now, a child sleeps in a state between all until it is safe for him to wake.

Humans always assume they know best.

The ones who have sway at least, in any case.

When they can't know or understand something they perceive as dangerous, they seek to destroy it.

They could always try to understand, but these humans who 'pulled the trigger', as their own kind would say, already made up their minds before trying to know the unknown and 'other' besides 'how dangerous' and 'how to destroy' and 'rip it open to see what ticks'.

When they set their sights on the infinite, it was bound to end badly. The only window they could see was their mirror world, home to the restless dead whom they have already labeled as 'Evil'.

They could only see 'Evil' in the dead without care to understand it, only wishing to destroy the 'Evil'. The mortals who ripped a hole between the veil were not the only ones who sought their own doom.

Balance's Avatar stopped it the first time they tried to erase their mirror realm, but they were more secretive and had more power to do so for the second time.

Mortals wearing white, a color of order and cleanliness, acted as if their souls were bleached of compassion as well. Empowered by the Orange and Teal veil rippers, instead of a human missile they used an insidious flower as a key component to aid their self destruction.

No matter how much the child of Balance tried, nothing could be done. No ally or former enemy alike could stop it.

They launched their weapon and ceased.

Between the milliseconds, Time- no Clockwork- could grab their precious chosen of Balance and save him of this fate.

Clockwork, the fragment of Time for this small corner of the infinite, was able to make one choice not pertaining to anything but affection for the child.

A favor? Mercy? Or a cruel sentence?

Maybe an act of Love?

Too late to wonder.

It's over.

The mortals and the dead in this corner of the infinite cease before anyone knew what had happened.

In between the seconds, only able to be counted by Time, faster than a thunder clap. Nothing could be done.

By trying to cut themselves off from death, to refuse it and any understanding that could be gained, they severed life. For how could a mortal understand or appreciate life without its cycle of grown, change, and decay as life comes to meet death if you erase the finish line that exists so new can replace the old?

All the death energy and the force of stolen life, the energy of life left to live for so many, backfired on them.

This section of eternity screamed in agony as it was ripped apart, yet the larger unknown reaches felt it more akin to a mosquito bite. Small and insignificant. A mild irritant that could bring greater agony if the fates were cruel enough.

Time's larger being felt bad for its partner, Space, but it knew for that small realm it was only a matter of 'when' and never 'if'. Not unless major changes were allowed.

Many different timelines continue on past that point, simultaneously ended, because mortals dared to see death and wish to conquer and destroy it. Gone mad from only a small fragment of the vast expanse.

They obsessed yet the beyond did not care.

It was only one fragment of the ever expanding whole.

Only Balance's Avatar, thrown far away from demise, was ever proof the doomed realms ever existed.

[razzle-zazzle]

can you tell us more about branch villainous parent idea you have?

Had to put this one under a cut bc it got long sorry.

tl;dr ancient troll sorceress who kinda made herself immortal but then spent centuries trapped underground adopts one (1) small gray trolling when she escapes in the hopes of using him as an agent in her big revenge plan

Okay okay so. I was listening to "The Monster Under Your Bed" by Madame Macabre (among some other songs) and somehow ended up creating a silly little AU where Branch is adopted and raised by something a little bit eldritch and a lot bit unsuited to taking care of a child. So meet Lola (<- placeholder name)!

Lola's a Pop Troll... or at the very least, she used to be. Her backstory starts a good few centuries before the Bergens even show up, but just long enough after the splitting of the genres that most Pop Trolls at the time only had a vague idea about the existence of other genres. Lola was just like any other Pop Troll, really—in fact, she was even quite a catch! A love of singing and dancing, a clear voice and pretty face; she had quite a few admirers.

But, well, her story's not as well known, in the days of Trollstice, but for those who do know it, it's a cautionary tale. Because Lola, like any Troll, was able to use her song to affect the world around her. And she pushed the limits of this power, often in... well, it was more carelessness, at first. A descent into destruction that started slow and snowballed, until she was pretty much a step away from Evil Sorceress. At the end of her tale, in an effort to put a stop to her, a small band of heroes used the Pop String to defeat her, sealing her body underground in the roots of one of the many Troll Trees of the time. Thought dead, Lola became a cautionary tale about the dangers of using one's song to destructive and selfish ends.

Except she didn't die. She was already beyond death, at that point. So for centuries, she remained trapped, unable to pierce the barrier sealing her in her tomb. And in those centuries, the Bergens came, discovered the Trolls, and Bergentown formed. In those centuries, the number of Troll Trees diminished down to one, caged in the center of a dreary town.

Enter Branch. From stage top, falling from the tree after being pushed out of the way by Rosiepuff. Branch, who's small and scared and curls up in the crook of two roots, where a small patch of either-lobelia-or-rhododendrons-I-haven't-quite-decided-which-flower-works-best-yet are growing. The barrier containing Lola has eroded slightly, over the centuries, and the slow genocide of the Pop Trolls by the Bergens has only sped up the process. She's still trapped, but now there's a small hole that light can sometimes get through.

When Branch first falls into Lola's tomb, he almost doesn't make it out alive. Why does she stay her hand, though? Is it because she could see a kindred spirit in the Trolling that had lost all hope? Because she saw in him an opportunity to escape her tomb and finally enact revenge? Because centuries buried underground can tire a person out immensely, and the thought of expending energy to kill one little Trolling was too much for her that day? Whatever the reason, Branch manages to climb back out. But he comes back, again and again, just to... talk. The scary lady trapped underground understands grief, after all, and Branch feels safe underground where the Bergens can't reach. No matter how much the shadows move and hiss and cry. But going in and out stretches the already weak barrier to its limits...

There's only a week or so between Rosiepuff's death and the Great Escape, in my headcanons (something something Chef randomly going in and eating Trolls outside of Trollstice in flagrant violation of rules or tradition purely because she can), so only a week or so after their first meeting a Bergen's shovel both clears a path and snaps what little remains of the barrier, loosing Lola upon the world.

When she "adopts" Branch, it's with a clear goal in her mind: raise this little gray Trolling to be an instrument of destruction, groom him for the eventual role he'll play in her revenge scheme. There's just one problem:

She gets attached.

[mybeautifulchristianjourney]

Devotional Hours Within the Bible by James Russell Miller

Mission to the Gentiles (Mark 7:24-30)

Much of the public life of Jesus was devoted to caring for sufferers .

The doctor’s little girl told the messenger where she thought her father could be found, as he was needed immediately, “I don’t know, sir; but you’ll find him somewhere, helping somebody.” When people sought for Jesus and could not find Him, He was usually away with someone in need, doing good, helping somebody. At this time, however, He was trying to get away from the crowd. He certainly was not trying to hide from His enemies, for He never had any fear of men. Probably He needed rest for Himself and His disciples. At least we are told “He entered a house and did not want anyone to know it.” We are sure Jesus never hides away from those who need Him in their distress. It is never true that He cannot be found. He never shuts the door upon those who pray to Him, or those who come to Him in trouble and want to find Him, refusing to see them. We will never find Him absent nor in hiding when we go to Him with any question or any need.

Try as He would, Jesus was not able to get away from the people. His attempts to have a little rest, were always thwarted. We are told here that though He wished to remain in seclusion, He could not be hidden. We cannot hide flowers their fragrance will tell where they are. Jesus could not be hid from human need there was something about His love which revealed Him to all who had any need. In this case it was a mother with a great sorrow who sought Him. Her little daughter had an evil spirit. We cannot understand how a child could be possessed by a demon but in this case it was a child. Very great was the mother’s distress. This woman had heard in some way of Jesus and of His casting out of evil spirits over in His own country. She had never expected that He would come into her neighborhood, as she was a Gentile, living outside the limits of His country. But when she learned from some of her neighbors that the Great Healer had come to the town, and was in a certain house, she lost no time in finding her way to Him. She came with strong faith. She was sure that Jesus could free her little girl from the terrible trouble. She fell at His feet, in the attitude of deepest humility.

Mothers may get a lesson from this Gentile woman. If their children are sick they should hasten to Christ with them. If they are in the power of any form of evil they should especially seek the help of Him who alone can give help in such cases. There are evil spirits besides the demons who possessed people in our Lord’s Day. Every child is exposed to constant temptations and my receive hurt. In every child there are natural evil tempers and dispositions which, if not cast out, will greatly imperil the life.

The first difficulty in this woman’s way, was the fact that she was a Gentile. Christ was not sent to her but the gospel now is for all the world. No nation has any exclusive claim to it. It is for the world. But Jesus devoted Himself only to His own people. Not until after He had died and risen again were His disciples sent to all the nations. The woman’s nationality was a barrier. Jesus was not sent to any but the lost sheep of the house of Israel.

Matthew tells us that when the woman began to plead with Jesus, “He answered her not a word” (15:23). This is one of the strangest incidents in our Lord’s whole life. Usually He was quick to answer every call for help. His heart responded instantly and lovingly to everyone who came to Him. A Christ silent to the cry of a mother, pleading for her child, seems so contrary to what we know of the sympathizing and helping Christ, that the record seems almost incredible. He was never unsympathetic, unloving, indifferent, or cold. We may be sure, however, that His silence in this case did not show lack of interest in the woman. His heart was not cold to her. All we can say, is that the time had not yet come for Him to speak. The woman’s faith needed still further development and discipline to bring it to its best.

People sometimes think now that Christ is silent to them when they call upon Him in their trouble. No answer comes to their cries. He seems not to come for their distress. But they may always know that the silence is not indication of indifference. Christ’s delays are not refusals. When He does not speak to answer our pleadings, it is because He is waiting for the right time to speak.

Matthew tells us also that the disciples interfered, begging Him to send the woman away. They seem to have been annoyed by her following after them, and her continual pleading. The fact that she was a Gentile may account for this. The Jews had no sympathy for the Gentiles. It took the disciples a long time, even after the day of Pentecost, to be willing to carry the gospel to a Gentile home. Here they wanted Jesus to send the woman away and to stop her annoying cries. This is the way some people try to get clear of the calls of human need, even in these Christian days. They cannot stand the cries of those who are suffering. They cannot bear to see those who come with pleas of distress. They turn away from their doors, those who come asking for help. They do not know that they are turning away Christ Himself, for He says that in the needy who stand before us, asking for aid He Himself stands, hungry, thirsty, and sick, a stranger. “Inasmuch as you did it not unto one of the least of these, you did it not to Me” (Matthew 25:45).

When Jesus did speak to this woman at length, it was a very discouraging word that He said. “First let the children eat all they want for it is not right to take the children’s bread and toss it to their dogs.” The children were the Jewish people. They were in a peculiar sense God’s family. It seems very strange to hear the word “dogs” falling from the lips of Jesus Christ, applied to Gentiles. It does not seem like Him. It would not have been surprising to have heard the disciples use this offensive designation, for they still were full of the narrow Jewish spirit. It was common for the Jews to call the Gentiles by this name. However, Jesus was different. There was never in His heart even a shade of contempt for any human being. No doubt there was something in the tone of the voice which Jesus used, or in the look of His eye as He spoke to the woman that took away from His words, the offensiveness.

Certainly she was not insulted by what He said. Perhaps she was encouraged by the word “first”, “ First let the children eat all they want.” A first implied a second. Or she may have detected in His language, a play upon words which gave her hope. There were little pet dogs in the home as well as children. She was only a dog but the dogs had a portion. They lay under the table and got what the children left. The woman with her quick wit seized upon the picture which the words of the Master suggested. She was content to be a dog and to have the dog’s share. Even the crumbs off that table would be enough for her.

There is strong faith in her reply. At last she had won her victory. Jesus said to her, “For such a reply, you may go; the demon has left your daughter.” In all the New Testament, there is no other such striking illustration of the persistence of faith. Obstacle after obstacle was met and overcome. The woman believed from the beginning that Jesus had power to heal her poor child, and she determined that she would not go away without winning from Him the help which she so very much needed.

The lesson for us is that we should never be discouraged by delays in the answering of our prayers. Even God’s silence to us should not dishearten us. He before whom we stand, can do for us whatever we need to have done. Nothing is impossible to Him. He waits to draw out of faith until it reaches its fullness of power and wins its victory.

If this woman had turned away at any time, discouraged by Christ’s seeming repulse of her, by His silence, or by His seemingly scornful words she would have missed the blessing which at last came to her in such richness. No doubt many people fail to get answers to their prayers, because they are not importunate. A man spent thousands of dollars drilling for oil. At last he became weary and gave up the quest, selling his well for a mere trifle. The purchaser, in two hours after he began work, came upon one of the richest oil wells in the country. The fist man had lost heart just two hours too soon. The same lack of persistence causes failure, no doubt, often, in praying. Jesus says we should always pray and not faint; that is, not give up.

We can picture the joy of this mother as she at last went to her house and found her child well. Her home was not longer darkened by this old-time sadness. The child was no longer under the power of the demon but was happy and well and beautiful. Whatever the trouble with their children may be mothers should always find the way to Christ and should plead with Him in patience, persistence, and faith, until their children are blessed and happy.

[lovedrunkheadcanons]

Chapter Contents

(Arranged Marriage Fic) Read on AO3

RATED M

A predator knows how to hide in plain sight; A lion will camouflage with the Saharan grass next to a herd of grazing zebra; A bolas spider will emit chemicals akin to female moth pheromones to lure prospective male moths towards its web; A thousand year old cursed spirit will split his essence into twenty fingers and scatter himself to places forgotten by man, ready to be made whole. Predators understand that to hunt their prey, you must first lower their defenses. Give them a false sense of security. Dupe the fools into believing they are safe and sound and the danger has passed when it lies waiting on their doorstep. Hungry.

Satoru didn’t trust the finger outright. He wasn’t so naive as to think it could ever be that simple. His plan was to monitor. Cursed objects had to be monitored for twenty-four hours when found. Kumari was strong, but if anything were to go wrong she wouldn’t stand a chance, and his wife’s behavior only made him more suspicious, hence why he took the finger home (and maybe also to appease his inquisitive nature). Hannah thought nothing of it when they returned. It’ll be gone in the morning, she thought and cozied up beside her husband on the futon later that night. Satoru would take care of everything. He always did.

So she thought.

From the time she was small, since the tender age of five or six, Hannah had been hearing voices. One hears many voices when inheriting The Sight. Mostly last breaths and dying screams. A curse cackling by the carnage of torn bodies. All of them disturbing and violent and horrible. So why would this be any different?

It rasped somewhere far in the distance. Thames. Over the pine crested peaks of Mt. Takao, the mokoshi penthouse roofs, and the torii gates. Thames. It blew across the school yard, rustling passed the trees, billowing near their house, sighing through the eaves, through the walls, just outside Hannah’s bedroom. Rattling her eardrums.

She heard claws scrape across the floor, repeating a name no longer hers.

Thames.

Satoru’s arm was wrapped snugly around her torso, holding her dear, yet she had no trouble breaking free and rising from the floor, leaving him sound asleep on the futon. “Mmph,” he grunted and stirred at the feel of something missing, but then switched positions and grew still once more, snoring contently on their shared pillow.

Somnolent, Hannah stood and walked towards the entrance, a thin nightgown strap hanging loosely off her shoulder. The door slid open by its own accord, but she did not return to the only person who could grant her safety. Out to the beyond she wandered.

Each step felt lighter than air down the tatami woven corridors, the shoji panels. Door after door after door, adjarring without interruption, her silhouette a mere shadow across the many lantern-lit halls. The voice beckoned louder. Thames. It wanted her. She would answer.

She came to a halt at the twelfth door, riddled in spell-tags. The incantation Satoru recited could be traced back to the earliest of jujutsu, some say since before the monolithic Jōmon began texturing their clay with bands of rope.1 Ancient jujutsu was the purest form of sorcery for good reason. Untainted. Indomitable. Satoru had mastered the secret incantation quicker than his predecessors. Nothing on heaven or earth should’ve been able to cross those barriers and remove those spell-tags.

Hannah did so without lifting a pinkie.

The barrier didn’t object to her presence, and the paper tags unglued themselves, one by one, scattering to the floor like a pile of white autumn leaves. The door slowly parted. Inside over by the corner was the sealed box. That’s it now, come here. Come to me. Five steps and she was hunkered down in front of it like a curious Pandora, nescient of the evil she was about to release upon the world. She flicked open the notches.

The floor beneath collapsed.

Hannah felt she was falling…

falling.

falling.

Her bare feet hardly made a splash in the blood water, wading just above her knees. Something ripe mushed between her toes. The air stank heavily of decay and iron. Though her eyes were transfixed by the large blackened ribs scaffolded above like an animal enclosure.

On a mound of bones, human and beast, buttressed and stacked high, was a notch arranged into a dais. The eery crimson light, emanating from God knows where, began building in strength, and the bone-filled graveyard started to unveil its secrets. She saw the outline of a figure seated atop the bones. Something like four monstrous arms, two sets of eyes, tattoos, and a mouth where a stomach should've been.

Regaining her wits, Hannah’s head began to throb. Her knees quaked. Blood ceased circulating to her legs from the cold water. She couldn’t feel the oxygen exit her lungs, nor her heart crumble and un-crumble like a reused plastic bottle.

“W-Where am I?” she croaked.

She saw one of its two mouths twist into a wry, sinister grin and suddenly felt she had unintentionally signed her death certificate. That’s not human, she thought. Not anymore. An alien life form. A freak of nature. Demonic.

“Woman.” the four-armed demon drawled above its mountain of skeletons, man and beast. “Did Uraume send you?”

Hannah stayed silent, struck paralyzed from the waist down.

“Are you a challenger?” it spoke again.

Tendrils of fear clamped around her throat. “A what?” she said dumbly.

The demon gave out a snorting laugh, “Guess not,” and rose to its feet. In a flash, it was standing in front of her, frame hulking and grotesque, roughly seizing her face between a mass of blackened claws, hooking a thumb to her lower lip. Hannah drew mute. The malevolence in its four vermillion eyes was a raw, insatiable sort.

“Weak,” the demon crooned, and stretched its mouth into that awful, predacious grin that conveyed unspeakable harm. Something knife-point sharp tapped her lower back.

The last thing Hannah heard were cruel peals of laughter before the world was swallowed inside a scarlet sea.

A goodnight’s sleep was a hardfought luxury for a jujutsu sorcerer. Not that it mattered much. Satoru sucked at sleeping anyways. Always had. Always will, so it didn’t take much for him to become gradually aware that the primal, gut-wrenching screams ringing in his subconscious were not a figment of his dreams, but real.

Oh so terrifyingly real.

The Six Eyes wielder could recall the time he witnessed the late cauterization of a grown bull, back when the estate was in the business of raising livestock. Most dehornings are performed when the bull is a calf to reduce infection and long-term pain: chemical solutions,"tubes," saws, keystone dehorners, you name it. But the rancher they hired cared little for the well-being of their cattle, and thought axing the bull’s horns with an old splitting maul and cauterizing the wound with a branding iron was the method of choice; highly illegal. Satoru watched him tie the bovine’s head down in a compromising position and with zero remorse start chopping. The agonized lowing that left the animal with each forceful thwack of the maul. The blood. Satoru couldn’t remember much of what he did afterwards, other than running to Makoto in tears. He freed all the estate’s livestock the day he became clan-leader, suppressing childhood trauma he hadn’t told a single soul.

Now twenty years later, Hannah’s tormented screams reminded him of that one bull.

There was no escaping it.

Wide awake and panicked, he twisted himself over to see his wife thrashing wildly on the bedding, her screams not of fear, but of pain; vocal chords cracking and clicking from too much exertion. She couldn’t catch her breath.

But what alarmed him most were her eyes. Hannah’s frightened eyes were like two dying stars, glowing a bright, ember red, inflamed and leaking a flood of tears, staring wide open.

He grabbed her by the arms, shaking, voice pleading for her to wake up, but every attempt failed. She scrambled to get away, wincing whenever his fingers came too close to touching her back.

This did not go unnoticed. Holding her at an angle, Satoru ever so gently slipped a hand underneath and felt his body grow cold at the sensation of something warm and sticky soaking the satin nightgown, the tang of rust. He began praying, Please be sweat, please be sweat, and slowly removed his hand.

The palm was coated so thickly in blood you’d think it was fresh paint, staining the once white futon into a dark, sickly grenache that would never wash out. With trembling hands, Satoru mustered the courage to flip her over and see what his heart earnestly wanted to deny.

Bile rushed to his throat. It was worse than he could’ve imagined.

Gashes like a jagged cuneiform were scrawled all along the expanse of her back; phantom claws, five tallies each, plowing deep into the skin, digging for purchase. Hannah sobbed more violently than ever. Her pallor was like stained glass left exposed to sunlight, faded and drained of color. Blood. Blood everywhere.

To his frustration, Satoru’s eyes detected nothing wrong. He saw no neon trail, no grimy residuals, an invisible enemy he could not see and could not fight; a true ghost. The band of gold on his finger started burning.

What is this?

Hannah’s strangled cries were growing weaker by the second, either from fatigue or something far more life upending. Her lips took a bluish hue from the oxygen not circulating to her brain and the rest of her body, hazel eyes glassy. If he didn’t act now, she’d be gone forever.

“Stay with me, Hannah.”

Satoru scooped his wife in his arms, her cries faint and disoriented, and ran like hell out the door.

“Please, don’t die.”

Chapter Contents

[rainbowvamp]

an unsent letter: 1857

Victorian Porn! by Hob Gadling

It's not very Victorian, but it is a little porn. Beneath a cut because it is semi-graphic depictions of sex acts. But not the whole thing. Just slightly more than half of it. The last half, if that matters to you.

CW: semi-graphic sex. non-anatomical words for genitals. liberal use of the word fuck.

---

I have lived too long and watched too many things change to care for social niceties. The way the world has changed is not always for the better. Some changes feel stagnant, others feel backwards. 

Usually, for some misplaced sense of propriety, I would never speak to you of this, but I am feeling like tearing down social barriers and propriety be damned, I will tell you this. Sex is good. It baffles me by what misplaced sense of honor people think that withholding themselves from it brings them anything besides greater lust! Surely some mystic somewhere has told of the importance not of abstinence, but of balance. Good Christians, it is said, abstain themselves from sexual activity before marriage, lest their lives be ruined and reaped early, society bringing them down to the level of the lowest and meanest people. 

Oh what silly little worlds they live in. 

I have lived on the streets, dear stranger. There was no woman on them who was there simply because she chose to have sex. Just as many of them did not choose it, in fact. I have had more pre-marital sex than any human being alive today, surely, and I am not worse off for it. They didn’t drown me for participating in that most unsacred act. They drowned me because I didn’t age. And yet, they seek everlasting beauty, ageless skin. Whole books dedicated to the fine methods one might use to keep themselves looking youthful. 

Oh they are fickle, fickle things. 

The older I get the more often I feel these moments of surreality. Where I simply cannot understand why one thing is better than another to them. I see the virtue in choosing to abstain from sex, if that is your desire, and I see the virtue in indulging in it, letting yourself have that most base contact of the skin, the shared evening light shining on two human bodies that satisfy each other in that perfect, primal dance. 

Have you ever tasted the lips of a person who’s just tasted the skin of your cock? Put your mouth to the core of a woman and listened to her come apart around your tongue? Tasted the flesh of a well sucked prick, wet with cum and spit, trailing over your cheek as it seeks entrance once again, never sated till the job is well and truly done. 

How can that be immoral? I don’t think I’ve ever felt anything more holy than the trust of a person who lets me see their body, bared and unhidden. Warm, soft flesh arching up into gentle hands and pressing, sliding, gripping, needing. 

I do not understand how anyone can experience this act and call it unholy. 

They believe themselves to be the great barer’s of God’s will but I’ve heard God’s voice in the soft cries of a lover well satisfied. In the pleading whine of a near torrential orgasm. In the deep groans of desire left to fester and simmer and ache until it was torment. 

Pleasure is not evil. I have lived on this earth a very long time, and I have seen more evil things than most people can imagine. Among those evil things, I have never counted sex. Not on it’s own. Demanding sex when it is not freely given, that is evil has nothing to do with the sex itself, and everything to do with the unjust taking. 

For all the consequences thrust upon those people who have sex outside of wedlock, you’d think it was another sort of murder.

It’s as bad as the witch hunts, Stranger, in a different way. Socially, sex destroys people, but it’s like they think this is a natural phenomenon and not one of their own creation. 

I think they will grow out of this. I hope they will. What good does it do to believe that the world will fall apart at the touch of a lover’s hand? What good does it do to ostracize and fear those people who partake in life’s easiest and most natural pleasure? 

What they believe they have to gain from this, I will never understand. Perhaps it is just the ability to hold one more thing over others. To have one more thing that is better about me than you.

I asked if you had ever felt the touch of a lover, purely as a rhetorical exercise, but in the waning evening light, as my temper cools, my pulse quickens, images I never meant to conjure swimming before my eyes and tempting me to them like moths to flame. Good Christians would say that such desires were immoral, not just because you are a man, but because I am considering satisfying myself, once this letter is done. Even that simple act they say we should deny ourselves in the seeking of God.

Stranger, you’re the closest thing to a God I have ever met, and the only moral imperative you have ever set upon me is not to hold men in chains against their wills. 

I wonder what your stance on sex outside of marriage is. I wonder what judgement you might pass upon me if you knew my hand was rubbing my prick through my trousers right now, readying myself for an evening wank. I think of tangling my hand into your long hair, the angelic length of it from 1689, when I first laid eyes on you with love, as far as I can estimate. I think of tracing my tongue over the line of your parted mouth, tasting your lips, feeling your breath against my cheek as I press my body against yours, pull your hips in close so your cock rubs against me and begging you to take your pleasure in whatever way satisfies you. I think of what I might murmur in your ear, soft praise, the deep groan of your voice if I were to sink my teeth into that alabaster skin. Would you be hot or cold? Would you be coy or coquettish? Would you press me away from you only to take control of our coupling, take charge of my mouth with all the grace your presence always commands. 

Would that it was your hand on my cock now, your breath on my neck in the candle lit room, soft pink lips swollen from kisses I stole like a thief in the night, more desperate for the smell of your breath than the purest, cleanest country air. 

I can’t imagine you tasting like any other man whose pleasure I’ve ever enjoyed. I can’t imagine your skin tasting like something so simple as skin. Surely you taste of lightning or dew drops or some other impossible thing that makes no sense except by whatever rules you live by.  

I don’t know if you can bruise, but I would like to suck my mark into your hip and lick the sting away. Have you ever used oil to slick yourself, squeezed and stroked your shaft to your own completion? Do you cum like all men do, dearest, most beautiful stranger, or do you require nothing so base as orgasm to reach the utmost heights of pleasure? I would put my mouth around your cock and suck the spend from you if you came like mortal men. I would savor every drop of you that you gifted me, waste nothing, want nothing, hungrier for it than I was after a year without food. I would have that cock inside me, slicked with oil, slow and torturous and skilled the way only agelessness can grant you. I’m over 400 years old, Stranger, and I know that there is no mortal man who can beat me by experience, but you are no mortal man. I long to have you chase me into the throes of ecstasy, thrust inside me like I was yours to have and you knew it, without question. I imagine your hand wrapped around my prick and your lips on my mouth and your tongue fucking into it just like your cock fucks into me. I imagine you possessing me with ease, unfathomably powerful, deceptively strong. I think of your hands pressing my thigh up, exposing me in my entirety to your gaze, shining blue eyes dark with lust and glinting with mirth, knowing that I am at your mercy. 

I think of having you beneath me. Your cock still inside me. Taking my pleasure from you, stroking my cock until I spend on your chest and stomach, licking that spend off your pale white skin and kissing you with lips that taste of my own seed. Would you enjoy the taste of another man’s cum on your tongue? Suck the spend from my mouth like you wish you had sucked it from the source.

Fuck. This is wrong. Not because sex is wrong but because we are meant to be friends, and I’m using the image of you in this most profane way.

But your touch would be the most holy thing I ever experienced. Your taste sweeter than communion wine or the body of Christ himself. I would see myself damned to an eternity of hellfire for just one mouthful of your soft skin. 

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

—

This is the first letter in nearly a century that Hob chooses to destroy. He watches it burn until every last scrap of it’s paper is charred and burned beyond recognition, and then he banks the fire and throws the ashes out, unable to look at them. 

When you open the book to this page, those ashes fall out onto the ground, and disappear again when you close the book, falling like little grains of despair and regret. 

[bestworstcase]

one thing I would love to see in the story is if, in Vacuo (well known as a place with a LOT of Grimm) someone remembers Menagerie somehow has less of a problem and turns to Blake and asks her "why?" and we get a lot of information about Menagerie as a culture. do you think this would fit in with your "menagerie has less grimm because it doesn't have a huntsmen school" theory? I personally think it makes sense because we know that "Grimm are attracted to strong auras" so naturally if you have a place where they're all grouped together, it'll be worse. Also there are several Faunus that have been shown as fighters who don't have Semblances, which require aura usage, so that probably helps. thoughts? (as an add-on to this, are you the person who said Salem is thematically a faunus? if so do you think that has anything to do with any of this?)

(yeah i’ve been on the salem-is-a-faunus train for a good long while now. not even just thematically, like, socially/culturally she’s a faunus. human + non-human physical characteristics—& i would argue there’s a lot of circumstantial evidence to support the idea that salem at one time had a lot of influence over faunus culture.)

i think menagerie’s relative lack of a grimm problem is almost certainly because menagerie is 1. a kingdom built by civil rights activists where 2. it’s culturally acceptable to express ‘negative’ emotions openly. menagerie’s people aren’t repressed festering balls of all the pain they’ve ever swallowed, because they don’t swallow their pain, and i figure that makes them a lot less interesting to the grimm. it’s like… imagine if grimm were creatures who needed to regularly submerge themselves in water to survive. menagerie has a lot of shallow, fast-flowing little brooks and streams; the vytal kingdoms have a lot of deep wells and dammed-up reservoirs. which kind of place is going to be more attractive to the grimm?

it’s not that the lack of a huntsman school is the causal factor of menagerie not having a grimm problem—it’s that menagerie represents a completely different model of grimm management, one based on prevention rather than warfare, and thus never needed to set up a huntsman academy. because the grimm just weren’t ever that big of a problem.

(mechanically, i think grimm are probably drawn to “negativity” because they need aura for whatever reason, and for humans and faunus aura is at least somewhat responsive to emotion—so to a grimm, a big burst of bad feelings is kind of like the sound of a can opener to a cat. similarly, a huntsman or huntress with an unlocked aura and juiced up semblance is probably more appetizing than your average civilian, which might be why we see behavior like grimm rampaging through the fairgrounds and only incidentally killing bystanders in V3, but rushing students far more aggressively.)

but the thing is. i’m not sure the people of menagerie entirely understand this. like, grimm are NOT well-understood AT ALL. grimm “science” is still at “grimm eat their prey, chase scavengers away from their kills, and ‘mysteriously’ die in captivity; they don’t need to eat, they choose to eat because they’re evil sadistic demons.” menagerie happens to be structured, as a society, in a way that works really well as a preventative measure against the grimm—but that’s because it’s a society built by civil rights activists who want to promote peace and equality and have thought deeply about how best to do that. the grimm prevention is an accidental side effect, and i imagine it’s either kind of a scientific mystery or everyone is putting it down to kuo kuana having good “natural barriers” (the mountains).

so i don’t know how well any menagerian characters would be able to explain any of this, because it’s way, way outside the realm of what modern grimm studies is able to account for. if it does get exposited on in detail, i would actually expect it to come from salem—because 1. she knows astronomically more about the grimm than anybody else by virtue of being both immortal and grimm herself, and 2. part of negotiating peace with salem is doubtless going to involve figuring out how grimm and people can coexist peacefully.

(i know a lot of folks think the grimm will be just… destroyed altogether in the end, but i don’t think that tracks because grimm have been portrayed as social beings with much greater intelligence than the pseudoscientific study of them holds; i think this is probably headed in more of a ‘ending the existential conflict between grimm and humans’ kind of direction than a ‘total extermination of these possibly sapient beings’ one. & if the core issue is that grimm just need a lot of aura to survive, well… one of the main characters is a guy whose semblance involves channeling his aura into other people, and warriors can channel their aura into weapons and clothes as a matter of course, and grimm can siphon aura from living things without causing permanent damage, and aura itself is a renewable resource, so like. this is a Solvable Problem.)

[granulesofsand]

I actually did my system homework this weekend. We have a funky relationship with our amnesia, so instead of sharing memories we each learn the thing on our own. Sometimes we teach each other, but I do better with hands-on stuff.

So I read an article about RAMCOA, one of the ones that we’re planning on transcribing to our internal library. I spaced out hard for the first read through, but I did make progress.

This article talked about the thought process of really little kids, before they can differentiate between self and other. One of the milestones here is developing a sense of safety. Children are supposed to feel cared for and understand their needs as natural and curable, and abuse shuts that right down.

Instead of safety, warmth, whatever babies normally find ‘good’, the systematic abuse within the group creates fear, disgust, an intrinsic ‘evil’. Because this is intentional, these bases are built into labyrinths of self-hatred.

Survivors of this kind of abuse report feeling ‘rotten’ or ‘poisoned’, and are sometimes able to elaborate with what was given to them throughout their lives.

And that’s what it is! I know now I’m not the first person in my system to realize, but it was new to me. That smell we worry lingers on us is from a flashback, not a physical sensation from the present. That’s why no amount of soap makes it go away, and why everyone says it’s not there. It only exists in the past, in our memories.

I was told I would be unpopular because I stank. That it was dangerous to be near me because rot brings disease and others will be effected. They said I was rotten from the inside out. And all of it was a lie, a sham grown from the see sown so many years ago.

The article was about transgenerational trauma; familial cults and groups that raise members from babes. How that inner doom can be externalized and the self-other barrier temporarily broken. It says that a survivor can project their pain onto someone they abuse, but that it doesn’t have the same positive effect as similar but healthy practices.

It’s hard to be angry with abusers knowing they went through the same cycle. I figure we were the fourth generation born into the cult, counting conservatively. Some of those children are still there, full circle as they hurt their own kids.

I can’t think about what that means for them, so I look at us. We’re one less branch of their tree, and we have a shot at a peaceful life. We might be out-out before we die.

I don’t know if anyone else has done this yet, not from our group. I’ve met a few of them in the wild, people who we knew or admitted to having grown up there too. It seemed like the only way to escape is in a body bag, and here we are. Still standing (that’s funny because we can’t really stand anymore).

I’ve been spending a lot of time looking at the sky. It’s a different feeling, even if it’s the same view. I like to sit outside and finally appreciate being alive.

[lenific]

OUAT. Rumbelle + Baelfire. Impossible Things

@lotus0kid

Hello! It’s Santa finally arriving with her calendar made a mess, but hey. The story is here!

A bit of intro to this one with three questions: What if Rumpelstiltskin didn’t offer Belle a way out before she realized she was in love? What if, together, they thought of the realms that were available to search for Bae, and rescued him from Neverland? What if it was too late to change Regina’s mind? IMPOSSIBLE THINGS (for @rumbellesecretsanta)

In the Enchanted Forest

The light steps outside made him snap his eyes open. He had gotten used to the heavy thread of armed guards, whenever they decided he needed to be fed.

These steps, Rumpelstiltskin had learned after years together.

“Belle,” he whispered, even as he slipped out of the dark corner at the back of his cell, careful not to touch the spelled bars. After his second attempt to escape, Blue had finally landed on a spell capable of containing him.

It would fade eventually.

It would be too late.

“Darling, I told you not to come.”

Belle smiled back.

His first sight of her in weeks, and she was smiling. He really didn’t deserve her.

“Did you, really?” she said as she came close. “Your meaning must have gotten lost among the yelling.”

Had they been at home, he would already have made some huge gesture to get back in her good graces. Baelfire would either giggle or roll his eyes, depending on how silly it was, and Belle would laugh and forgive him.

Here, he gave a small shrug. “I’m sorry, Belle.”

“I know.” She stood before him, her hands against the invisible barrier. “What do we do now?”

That was easy.

The die had been cast from the moment Regina guessed at the last ingredient for the Dark Curse. And despite Blue’s suspicions, she had guessed. Because even though that smug fairy was right, and Rumpelstiltskin could have made a deal in exchange for a clue, he hadn’t.

Punishment enough to doubt his choice, and then doubt again.

He reminded himself that there was no choice. Not really. He had once chosen the easy path, and it had led him to lose his son.

Never again.

 Where Belle would one day understand why he had needed to break her trust in order to keep his family safe, he couldn’t gamble on Bae’s willingness to forgive him again.

“We wait,” he said quietly.

Belle swallowed, blinking the fear away. Brave woman, his Belle. “Regina might not—”

She broke herself off at his headshake.

“Don’t kid yourself, sweetheart.”

Belle couldn’t think of anyone harming their family. She still loved her own father, despite everything. She would protect Maurice even though the man wouldn’t as much as open one of her letters. 

To kill a father who had followed their child down the darkest paths?

No, Belle would never understand.

Even the Charmings, who knew intimately the depths Regina would go to, had decided to be optimistic. Bright-eyed and confident that love was the ultimate power, they couldn’t believe that even the Evil Queen would kill the last person who loved her.

Rumpelstilskin knew better.

Curses were meant to be cast.

Henry could be spirited away, tucked behind as many barriers as the fairies could hold, but Regina needed a happy ending more than a father’s love.

When the moment came, the old man would open up his own chest, if it made his little girl smile.

Fathers were foolish like that.

“We will be alright,” he reminded Belle, faking a smile. “It won’t be forever.”

Belle’s own smile said she was trying to believe him. She searched her pocket, bringing out the small talisman he had given her. “And we will be together.” She clutched the teacup to her chest. “I’m not letting go of this, so we will be together.”

Not even his power could twine more than two fates together. Bae and Belle were as safe as he could make them.

How Regina’s curse would entangle him was a worry for when the Savior arrived.

“Of course, sweetheart,” he lied.

He refused to place another burden on her, when it was all so hopeless. After the Savior had done her work, after he admitted that there had never been a choice, Belle would forgive him.

“In the meanwhile, you are coming back with us,” Belle told him, tucking the teacup out of sight, and bringing up a book instead. He let out an impressed whistle when he recognized the title.

“I thought there was only one copy.”

Blue had bragged about that, as she cast the barrier over his cell.

Belle’s eyes danced with mischief. “There is.”

Rumpelstiltskin laughed, wishing he could kiss her smile. “I trust you, love.”

Belle blushed. “I will find the counterspell,” she promised. “Then you’re coming home with us.”

As Regina was taking her time finding her father, Rumpelstiltskin let himself hope. Waiting out the Dark Curse in his castle would be infinitely better. “I’d love that.”

---

When the curse swept into the dungeons three weeks later, Rumpelstiltskin refused to be afraid.

Baelfire was safe with Belle.

Anything else, he could survive.

28 years later.

Over the threshold of the sheriff’s office, freedom started with a panicked gulp.

Lacey tugged at his arm, her usual determination overshadowed by dread. “Why tonight?” she muttered, visibly shaken. “Of all nights for this shit to happen….”

His first thought was to reassure her, but practicality dragged him forward. Away from trouble and toward - 

“Papa!”

After so many weeks apart, Gold felt the world realign. “Neal,” he breathed.

Why was his boy behind the wheel?

Lacey noticed at the same time. “Forget about it, shrimp. Backseat, now.”

Neal stuck his tongue out, but he squeezed between the front seats and waved at them from his new position.

Gold forgot the chaos of the moment, and let himself laugh. He walked faster to the car despite the dubious balance of the cane Lacey had just brought for him.

Beside him, she kept glancing around them, her smile nervous.

Despite the situation, Gold only had eyes for the fifteen-year-old in the car.

“I found him at my doorstep,” Lacey said, following his line of sight. “I know you wanted to keep him safe to the last minute, but when has the kid ever listened to you?” Her voice was less peeved than she probably meant. She wasn’t one to follow instructions either. “He said the nuns won’t check until morning, and after so many times he’s snuck out, I’m hoping they haven’t decided to wise up tonight. I wouldn’t count on Astrid giving me the heads-up. Not for this.”

Gold grunted. That Lacey had found a nun willing to give him the benefit of the doubt was miracle enough.

She must have taken the sound as a complaint, because she scowled back. “I told him to stay put. I swear I did.”

His boy could out-stubborn anyone.

“It’s all right, Lace,” he said, reaching for the passenger door.

“Best that he’s here, anyway. We can leave right away.”

Once inside the car, he pulled Neal into a tight hug.

Both chuckled when they realized neither would loosen their grasp.

“Missed you too, Papa,” Neal said, still holding on.

Gold laughed, surprised by the easy affection. Neal had once been a sweet kid, but high school had changed him. The moodiness of his early teens had grown into a wave of anger and disappointment that had driven them apart.

He had hit his lowest point the day Neal had run away.

The months spent looking for his son had been bleak. An endless ocean of darkness. He hated to remember the measures he’d taken in his search. The only bright spot had been crossing paths with Lacey, and even their relationship had taken a few bitter twists before Neal had finally resurfaced.

For a little while afterward, life had been bright for the three of them.

Until Spencer called for his arrest.

(Or rather, someone placed above Spencer did, as the district attorney wasn’t fool enough to bite the hand that had hidden so many of his sins.)

Gold bristled at the thought of this unseen enemy, but at the moment he chose to focus on Neal.

“I missed you too, son.”

“Yeah, yeah. We love you and you love us,” Lacey grumbled with a pronounced eyeroll as she dangled her keychain over their heads. “Can we hurry it up?”

Neal made a half-hearted attempt to reach the car key. “Am I driving this time?”

“No!” chorused Lacey and Gold.

Neal gave an impressive eyeroll of his own, and with a shrug, he settled back as Lacey started the car.

Gold was glad to see the ease between them.

His son and his girlfriend had little in common, but they had stuck together in the weeks since Gold had been brought up on charges. They had even shared an inside joke or two the last time they had come in together. After that, once Neal had been forbidden to come, Lacey had sounded fond of the boy. There had been no reluctance to recount stories about Neal, and she’d stopped being upset when he redirected the conversation to his boy.

Neal raised his hand for a high-five when they reached the main road. “Next stop: New York!” 

Neal’s enthusiasm made Gold smile. 

He glanced at Lacey, ready to share in the moment, but her expression revealed that her nerves had caught up with her.

“Lace?”

“It’s okay,” she said too quickly. “I’m okay, really.”

Gold tried for a reassuring smile. He would move to the front seat at their first stop. Maybe take over the driving when they were far enough. Lacey had taken a nasty shock in the sheriff’s office, but she would be back to normal after a nap.

(Hopefully. He had no idea how to help her otherwise.)

Neal didn’t know to wait. “Are you, really?” he pressed.

“Sure! Ready to get out of here yesterday. That’s all.”

Neal looked between the two of them. “What happened?” He frowned, then peered at Lacey’s reflection on the rearway mirror. “You are more stressed now than in the afternoon. Which makes no sense, because you didn’t really think this would work.”

“Of course I’m sure,” Lacey insisted, with the tone of a well-rehearsed phrase. “Always was.”

She was a poor liar, when faced with people that mattered to her.

Neal huffed with pointed disbelief. “And you,” he continued, turning to point at his father. “You should be grumbling at us  for altering your plan. Drive back to the convent and pick me up there, wasn’t it?”

“There was a chance we’d get caught,” Gold explained quickly.

Neal pressed his lips together. “So why aren’t getting grounded for risking being caught along, and why does Lacey look about to cry?”

Lacey shook her head. “Am not.”

Gold had promised not to lie ever again, so he volleyed with another question. “Do you want to get grounded, son?”

An unimpressed look said Neal wasn’t distracted. “What happened in there, then?”

His boy was smart, Gold consoled himself. 

“There was a hiccup,” he started, figuring out the balance between the truth Neal deserved and the innocence he was owed.

At the same time, Lacey laid it out without hesitation: “The sheriff decided to get murdered just before we left.”

The hard part over with, Gold made a helpless gesture at Neal’s shocked look. “It wasn’t me.”

Neal buried his head in his hands. “This is bad,” he muttered.

“It really wasn’t me, son,” Gold insisted.

“I know! But everyone else will think—”

“Neal, we’re leaving. Stop worrying about what they think.”

Storybrooke had been supposed to be a new start for them.

A new business for him, a new school for Neal, and a new home for Lacey. He had even toyed with the idea of presenting Lacey with a huge diamond ring, making their relationship as concrete in strangers’ eyes as in their own.

His reputation, however, had followed him.

He wasn’t ashamed of the monster he’d been. Tracing Neal’s flight had been more expensive than his modest business could be expected to afford. Gold had tried. He had. But money flowed more easily among darker waters, and he had plunged in as deep as he’d needed until he had recovered his son.

Gold had also been willing to leave it behind.

A promise he couldn’t keep.

In hindsight, it had been naive to think he had a chance.

He never lived up to his son’s expectations.

His past caught up with him, had him dragged him away from their house and stuck in jail.

Spencer had been hypocritical enough to deny him bail, and the judge had folded as if Gold didn’t hold secrets over both their heads.

Both attempts to call the fools to heel had failed, and somehow that had called the attention of the church.  The Mother Superior’s decision to meddle into his affairs still surprised him.

When he had been notified of Neal’s placement under the nuns’ supervision last week, Gold had despaired that he’d lose touch with his son. 

Even phone calls had been taken off the list.

In hindsight, threatening the nun hadn’t been his best idea. Taking the convent from under her feet would be easier without warning her beforehand.

With his bag of tricks out of reach, Lacey had stepped forward.

From what the Sheriff had told him, Lacey had badgered the head nun into allowing Neal’s visits. When Mother Superior had sneered even at the idea that father and son should at least exchange notes, Lacey had decided to bribe one of the younger nuns.

How that conversation had turned into friendship, Gold couldn’t explain.

Lacey had shrugged off his questions, saying only that she had more in common with Sister Astrid than she’d have expected.

Knowing what he did about Lacey’s past, he hadn’t delved further. 

Then Sister Astrid had come forward and admitted that Neal had been scheduled to leave for a foster house outside town.

That had been the last straw.

Within a few days, Gold had set this plan in motion.

A new life.

Modest, in comparison to their old one; but after months of his case being dragged into nowhere, Gold wasn’t ready to bet on the justice system being inclined to be bent to his satisfaction before Neal was lost to him.

There was someone stalling his more subtle attempts to throw off those tax fraud charges, even before they added that  idiotic murder.

As if a school teacher could have been a threat.

Soon he would discover their identity and make sure they understood who kept the upper hand across town. He knew too many secrets and had made too many deals with the foremost people in town, to stay behind bars. But right now… Right now he was a desperate father with a single goal in mind.

Said goal had a determined scowl on his face. “We are going back, Papa.”

“Neal….”

“If we don’t prove you’re innocent, we’ll never stop running.”

“The shrimp has a point,” Lacey muttered.

Gold glanced between the two of them. “A fine sentiment, thank you. But considering that I’m guilty, we might not count on that.”

“I don’t care about the money,” Neal said.

“I like that part, actually,” Lacey piped up, always unashamed of what had first drawn her to him. She was attracted to power, and Gold sometimes had to remind himself that she’d stayed even after he’d lost a chunk of it.

“Ew, stop looking at her like that.” Neal clicked his fingers in front of his father’s nose. “And Lacey, please keep your eyes on the road.”

Lacey winked before she focused back on the driving.

“As I was saying,” Neal continued, “I can understand that. But if we run from a murder charge, they’ll never even look for the real killer.”

“Oh, son. If I’m there, they won’t look further either.”

“It looks bad,” Lacey added. “I was there, and I would blame your father if I hadn’t seen it with my own two eyes.”

Gold closed his own, trying to repress a full body shudder.

The sheriff had been a decent man, when he remembered to crawl from under Madam Mayor’s thumb.

Usually, they would be playing their usual charade where Graham reminded Lacey that visiting hours were over, and Lacey tried to tempt him into giving her the keyring…

But tonight Lacey already had a copy of the key.

Instead the sheriff’s office had been dark, as Graham prepared to leave.

Gold’s first clue that something was wrong was the thud of a body against the floor. One moment, he was breaking up with his girlfriend over the phone, and a minute later he was dead.

Lacey had looked for a pulse.

They had hesitated for so long that they should have heard the ambulance coming. If the girlfriend had called emergency services.

Which she hadn’t done.

“Papa, please,” Neal said. “Graham was okay.”

Gold never could live to his son’s expectations.

He still tried.

“Lace?”

Lacey wore a troubled look. “I just want us to be together,” she said, her longing almost tangible. Then she shrugged, and halted the car. “But good men deserve justice.”

Gold glanced out at the welcome sign by the road, thinking of the few yards that separated them from freedom.

He didn’t owe Graham any favors.

Dead sheriffs were even less useful.

“Fine,” he heard himself say, working out the details as fast as he could. “We stay.”

Neal’s proud eyes cemented that choice.

Lacey reached out for him, entangling their fingers together. “Okay. This still isn’t the worst decision I’ve made.”

Gold laughed, then set down a plan. “We go to the cabin and regroup there. You two will need to return to town, act surprised when I’m not at the sheriff’s office.” Lacey nodded, and though hesitant, Neal did too. “Graham had a girlfriend, so if whoever comes to investigate doesn’t pay attention to Graham’s love life, make sure to point them that way.”

It was Lacey’s turn to hesitate. “I thought they’d just started dating. Poison as a second date doesn’t seem likely.”

Gold shook his head. “No. This has been going on longer than that.” After a while, the sheriff had more or less considered him as part of the furniture. “I’ve overheard enough phone calls to know that.” 

Lacey raised an eyebrow. “Give me a bastard anyway,” she said, bringing their joined hands up for a quick kiss. “It’s the quiet ones who are trouble.”

Neal grimaced. “Ew. Again.” He made a show of rolling his eyes toward the roof, away from them. “And what do you mean?”

“That good, sweet Sheriff Graham had two girlfriends. Because that first date I was talking about? She arrived in town only a couple weeks ago.”

“Still a suspect.”

Lacey shrugged. “Maybe. But poison isn’t like her.”

“Too innocent?”

“Too tough,” Lacey said. “She is upfront about everything. She would have kicked the cheating prick where it hurt, and then maybe set a bullet through his heart. Wouldn’t blame her for it, too. If I found out—”

“A real charmer,” Gold cut in before Lacey could go into details. He preferred to admire her bloodthirsty ways without his son’s attentive ears taking every word. “But if you know this woman, that’s great. She’ll need a shoulder to cry on if she doesn’t know.”

“Or a free round of drinks when she finds out.”

Gold glanced at her. First Sister Astrid and now this newcomer. He’d forgotten how easily Lacey made friends. “Just make sure she doesn’t add anything to your drink.”

Lacey scoffed, turning the car around. “Nah. Don’t worry. Emma is okay, really.”

Gold blinked.

Rumpelstiltskin took a moment to consider the situation. His son was here. His true love was here.

The Savior was in town.

“Yes, sweetheart,” he said, throwing an arm around Baelfire despite the boy’s half-hearted protest. “I’m sure your new friend won’t disappoint.” The End 31/12/22

[pikkirat623]

Staind

What are your favorite Staind lyrics? Here’s some of mine…

“And it’s been awhile since I could

Look at myself straight

And it’s been awhile

Since I said I’m sorry

And it’s been awhile

Since I’ve seen the way the candles light your face

And it’s been awhile

But I can still remember just the way you taste”

- “Its Been Awhile”

“My life has slowly faded

Broken and degradated

Suffocate in my sorrow

Maybe I’ll die tomorrow

This riot that I’ve sited

Came to you uninvited

Truth hurts when it’s in your face

Are you afraid of it?”

- “Self-Destruct”

“But I’m on the outside

And I’m looking in

I can see through you

See your true colors

Cause inside you’re ugly

You’re ugly like me

I can see through you

See to the real you”

- “Outside”

“These are my words

That I’ve never said before

‘I think I’m doing okay’

And this is the smile

That I’ve never shown before

Somebody shake me cause I

I must be sleeping”

- “So Far Away”

“So this is it

I say goodbye

To this chapter of my ever-changing life

And there’s mistakes

The path was long

And I’m sure I’ll answer for them when I’m gone

When I’m gone”

- “Something to Remind You”

“I feel betrayed

Stuck on your ways

And you rip me apart

With the brutal things you say

I can’t deal with the shit any more

I just look away”

- “Mudshovel”

“My head is a barricade

Filled with peaceful thoughts and evil outcomes

No one understands

Try to break the barrier

I see no outlet

No one’s there to catch me when I fall”

- “Painful”

“Try to hold back

All the anger but it’s a trigger

And I can’t relax

Losing focus on the things you lack

So you push me

To the brink and I don’t know what is next”

- “Lowest in Me”

“Why can’t you just forgive me?

I don’t want to relive all the mistakes I’ve made

Along the way

But I always find a way

To keep you right here waiting

I always find the words to say

To keep you right here waiting”

- “Right Here”

“I am nothing more than

A little boy inside

That cries out for attention

Yet I always try to hide

Cause I talk to you like children

Though I don’t know how I feel

But I know I’ll do the right thing

If the right thing is revealed”

- “Epiphany”

“Cause I sit here locked inside my head

Remembering everything you said

The silence gets us nowhere

Gets us nowhere way too fast”

- “For You”

“So where were you?

With all this I was going through

You never took the time

To ask me just what you could do

I only know that I can change

Everything else just stays the same

So now I step out of

The darkness that my life became”

- “Fade”

“If you believe in me

Life’s not always what it seems

Believe in me

Cause I was made for chasing dreams”

- “Believe”

“I’m fucked up

Distorted

Dysfunctional and drained

All of my

Deep rooted

Fears seem to get the best of me”

- “Nameless”

“Cause I’m afraid to be alone

Afraid you’ll leave me when I’m gone

And I’m afraid to come back home”

- “Home”

“It’s kinda sick

I feel so dirty

I’m kinda tragic

Kinda insecure

But I know

That I’m the only

One who can fix

Whatever’s wrong I’m sure”

- “Just Go”

“The more you take

The more you blame

But everything still feels the same

The more you hurt

The more you scream

The price you pay to play the game

And all you see

And all you gain

And all you step on with no shame

There are no rules

No one to blame

The price to play the game”

- “Price to Play”

“I’m not very good at just paying attention

I’m not very good at remembering things

I’m not very good at pursuing redemption

I’m not very good at concealing the hand that I play

When I’m trying to hard just to beat you

I’m not really good at controlling my fate

I’m not really good at controlling my anger

I’m not really good at subduing my hate

I’m not really good

I’m not really good

I’m not really good”

- “The Way I Am”

“I’m not gifted

Slightly twisted

Try hard, try hard

To see if I can push you any further

Just to soothe me”

- “Suffocate”

“The thoughts from my mind

Command my lips to say I hate you

The thoughts from my mind

Command my hands to cut your silken flesh

The thoughts from my mind

Command my feet to stomp your head

The thoughts from my mind

Have one question

‘When will this ever end?’”

- “Four Walls”

“Now

It’s up to you

The path that you choose

Gotta do something different

Now

It’s all the same

No one to blame

Gotta do something different now”

- “Now”

“I just need this to feel alright

I can’t feel this another night

I can’t take this, I’ve come unglued

I might breakdown in front of you

Necessary to medicate

I’m not sleeping, can’t stay away”

- “Pressure”

“I’m two steps from salvation

But I’m only taking one”

- “Pardon Me”

“Well fuck that, and fuck him

And fuck her, and fuck you

For not having the strength in your heart to pull through

I’ve had doubts, I have failed

I’ve fucked up, I’ve had plans

Doesn’t mean I should take my life with my own hands”

- “Waste”

“Tell me please

Who the fuck did you want me to be?

Was it something that I couldn’t see?

Never knew this would be so political

And please

I’m still wearing this miserable skin

And it’s starting to tear from within

But it’s obvious that doesn’t bother you

So please

Don’t keep telling me that it’s okay

I don’t buy all the shit that you say

And quite honestly I’m fucking sick of it

So please

If I cut off this nose from my face

Then I wouldn’t feel so out of place

But it still wouldn’t be quite enough for you

So please”

- “Please”

“I walk alone

I am alone

I think alone

I’ll die alone

Don’t think I can make it on my own

I think I need someone to save me

Such is life

So sad but true

Kill everything that’s close to you

Try to decide what not to do

You know you cannot control me”

- “Break”

“I already told you

That falling is easy

It’s getting back up

That becomes the problem

Becomes the problem

If you don’t believe

You can find a way out

You’ve become the problem

Become the problem”

- “Falling”

“What the fuck’s the purpose

I didn’t scratch the surface

Immune to what you’re saying

All alone decaying

Everything’s on fire

Darkness, lone desire

Quiet in my corner

Building up the border”

- No One’s Kind”

“Never again

Trusted in you

Fuck everything that you think I should be

I stand

Never again

Never again”

- “Can’t Believe”

“Well I know the words

But I can’t really speak them

To you

And I hide all the pain

That I’ve gained with my wisdom

From you

And I’m eaten alive

By what I hold inside

All the things that I live with

I can’t easily hide

And I’m left here with nothing

Nothing to live for

But you”

- “Excess Baggage”

“The weight of your sorrow

Make some paper wings and learn to fly

If there’s no tomorrow

Burn your paper wings and say goodbye”

- “Paper Wings”

“Sometimes when you’re out of rope

The way to climb back up’s unclear

The walls you build around yourself

I guess they also keep you here

Are you afraid of what they think?

Whoever ‘they’ happen to be

Or are you hiding from

The scars of your own reality”

- “Reality”

“I try and try to break away from all the hate I’m feeling

From every one of you that’s ever done me wrong

I need to justify the reasons for the way I’m living

I guess I can’t cause I don’t feel like I deserve”

- “Change”

“But if you had told me when I was much younger

That life has a way of pulling you right under

I wouldn’t be standing here preaching my hate

Stand at the edge staring into my fate”

- “See Thru”

“A piece of glass

In the sand under your feet

It cuts you deep

And makes you hate the beauty that you see

And you wonder where you are

How you ever got so far

Now you question what went wrong

It’s your heart”

- “Raining Again”

“The pictures left with me won’t fade

These images affect me every day

Cause of you I feel I don’t deserve

The life I see in her”

- “Raw”

“Should I be afraid of the voice that I see?

In the mirror staring back at me

So cold we’re the days when I listened to you

And you say that I’m weak so show me the proof

Because I still exist in spite on you

But I won’t compete with you every day”

- “Schizophrenic Conversations”

“Late at night I can hear your voices

Talking shit about all my choices

You would think that you’ve known me forever

Just because you know my name”

- “Crawl”

“Yesterday

A boy and already afraid

Locked deep inside

My place to hide

To hide from how you make me feel

And I wonder

How’s your brother?

Did he end up fucked up like me?

Lost in himself?

Crying for help?

It’s safe to say”

- “Yesterday”

“I always fail to see

The little things in front of me

The things that mean so much to you

A way to let you know

That I appreciate

The way you always tolerate

But sometimes when I medicate

Frustrations in you

Shows me how you feel”

- “Devil”

“All the demons in my head won’t leave me

I know, I can hear them

All the sacrifices made for nothing

Don’t show, can’t believe in

Wanna show you that I’m good for something

I can, you won’t let me

All your artificial words won’t heal me

Because you can’t accept me”

- “ A Flat”

“So there’s the corner that I sat on

The road I walked home in the rain

And there’s the star I used to wish on

It all just seems like yesterday”

- “The Corner”

“I’ll meet you at the bottom

The waves can’t wash away all the scars you bare

See you at the bottom

Just hold on to the things that keep you there”

- “The Bottom”

“Yeah, like the day that your guardian angel decided to fly away

Yeah, like a bruise that doesn’t fade

Yeah, like a memory that tortures your soul until your dying day

Yeah, like the life you couldn’t save”

- “Failing”

“I wish that I could disappear

Unzip my skin and leave it here

So I could be no one again

I’d never let nobody

I’d let nodboy

I’d let nobody in”

- “Blow Away”

“But everything that I could say to you

Won’t help you

Everything you need is right in front of you

Just take it

Try to make it through the daily pain

That you feel

Maybe tomorrow won’t be so bad

I know it”

- “Take It”

“I’ve learned

That this life’s not just a game

Just a line

Between the pleasures and the pain”

- “Fray”

“Everyone plays the hand they’re dealt

And learns to walk through life itself

Not everything in life is handed on a plate

When people think your words are true

It doesn’t matter what you do

I sold my soul to get here

How about you?”

- “How About You”

“What’s happened to you?

It’s obvious you’ve changed

Something deep inside you

Is probably to blame

Must be lonely up there

With your head all in the clouds

Even though you got there

What does your conscience tell you now?”

- “Falling Down”

“The truth is that I’m not so good

At showing how I feel

Or keeping my mouth shut

When there’s something to conceal

Or knowing how to love

Love’s not in my memory

How can I rise above

All my insecurities?”

- “Run Away”

“You

You understand my pain

From this I gather strength

In that we are the same”

- “Reply”

“Thank you to the people in my life

For putting up with me

Thank you for the time you sacrificed

All on account of me

For all the times I didn’t say”

- “Intro”

“I hate myself for you

I break myself for you

I’d kill myself for you

I better save myself from you

Every time you want me to be

Something you could never be

You’ll just have to wait and see

Til the next time that you have to come again”

- “Come Again”

“You before me

I can’t take any more

Of what you have to offer

My ears are sore

Leave my feelings

In a heap by the door

Can’t go up any further

Come crashing back down”

- “Question?”

I do not own or claim ownership of any lyrics posted here

[umutisiktagiyev]

Book Notes | The 48 Laws of Power by Robert Greene | 20.09.2024

I had to carry her body to the ambulance with the operators. It's a weird situation overall, I can’t find the words for it. There is this thing that happens when you see a dead body, they’re difficult to touch, and it’s as if there is a mental barrier that forces your hand back. As unfortunate as the situation is, we must focus on what’s ahead. Either way, I believe as long as there is a will to survive, the way to life can be found.

Now, onto the book. It took a while to finish this book, even though it is rather short. I took a good amount of breaks. I approached the work with a lot of skepticism and had my guard up the whole way through, I now can confirm it was justified. There was a certain repulsion I felt towards the titles, the ‘laws’, the book tries to teach you to be a lying, manipulating, sociopath.

I thought reading the work would give me an outside perspective and help me understand how to defend against such attacks towards my person. I don’t think the book accomplished even that baseline purpose I set out for.

The book had a strict "You must do THIS and THAT if you want to reach a position of power." tone. One big realization this book gave me, without meaning to, is that power for me isn’t a big goal. I just said, if this is what one must do to achieve power, I don’t want it. Robert Greene does not seem like an asshole, and he acknowledges that if a person were to do everything in the book, they would be evil.

I saw a lot of contradictions, one law directly dismisses the other. I can’t see how a person can live applying this book to their life while retaining a soul. You betray everything and everyone for an imaginary and fleeting concept of power. Not only is the premise not sketchy, that you don’t have to be a Machiavellian to achieve power, it’s outright wrong. This isn’t the way. This does not lay the correct foundations.

Credit where credit is due, some laws are worthwhile, ones I already apply. Such as law 4, never saying more than necessary. I do not and try my best not to lie. However concealing information, and withholding it, is a big strategy that I constantly make use of.

Law 9, winning through your actions, never through argument. I could not agree more. Nothing is as useless as argumentation, trying to change someone’s mind. The task itself is impossible. One must do everything in their power to push their will through.

Law 10, avoiding the unhappy and unlucky. This is a well-known tip in applied psychology. This law remains to be just that, a law. Life is about limits, more often than not; these are self-imposed. People will drag you down with them.

I like law 25, recreate yourself. It talks about how it is all about these self-imposed limits mentioned previously. Page 98.

The best deceptions are those that seem to give the other person a choice: your victims feel they are in control, but are your puppets. (Controlling the frame is EVERYTHING, and always try to break out of frames that are imposed onto you.)

Do X, be around X and you will become X in due time. You become your habits. This is a simple but overlooked detail about life.

Look for contrasts, people who thump their chests are often cowards; the upright people are screaming for adventure. By probing beyond appearances, you will often find people’s weaknesses in the opposite of the qualities they reveal to you.

The strategy of the Crown is based on a simple chain of cause and effect: if we believe we are destined for great things, our belief will radiate outward, just as a crown creates an aura around the king. One way to emphasize your difference is to always act with dignity, no matter the circumstance. This is the greatest lesson Victor Frankl tried to convey.

It is always up to you to set your price. You need to turn your back on what you want, to attract it. Give so you can receive.

Quotes:

The key to power is the ability to judge who is able to further your interests in all situations.

When you carefully control what you reveal, they cannot pierce your intentions or your meaning.

Everything is judged by its appearance; what is unseen counts for nothing. Never let yourself get lost in the crowd. Stand out.

Fools say they learn by experience. I prefer to profit from others’. There is much to be known, life is short, and life is not life without knowledge. It is therefore an excellent device to acquire knowledge from everybody.

The truth is generally seen, rarely heard.

Never associate with those who share your defects -they will reinforce everything that holds you back.

Most men are so thoroughly subjective that nothing really interests them but themselves.

Be frugal with flattery.

Folly consists of not in committing folly, but being incapable of concealing it.

If you are unsure about a course of action, do not attempt it! Timidity is dangerous. Give your all to your acts.

Few are born bold, even Napoleon had to cultivate it on the battlefield, where he knew it was a matter of life or death.

I certainly believe this: that it is better to be impetuous than cautious because Fortune is a woman, and if you want to keep her under it is necessary to beat her and force her down. It is clear that she more often allows herself to be won over by impetuous men than by those who proceed coldly. And so, like a woman, Fortune is always the friend of young men, for they are less cautious, more ferocious, and command her with more audacity.

A line of poetry will take us hours maybe; yet if it does not seem a moment’s thought. Our stitching and unstitching has been naught.

The way you carry yourself will often determine how you are treated; in the long run, appearing vulgar or common will make people disrespect you. For a king who respects himself, and inspires the same sentiment from others. By acting regally and confident of your powers, you make yourself seem destined to wear a crown.

People hate it when you overshadow them, it makes them feel so inferior. They will try to bring you down. Give not that which is holy unto the dogs, neither cast ye your pearls before swine, lest they trample them under their feet and turn again and rend you.

Nothing is for free, despise the free lunch. The worth of money is not in its possession but in its use.

Strike the shepherd and the sheep will scatter.

Human nature will never change: people will congregate around a single strong personality like planets orbiting a sun.

Always appeal to self-interest, it is the core of everyone’s heart.

People say they want change, but this is not the case. If it affects their life, they get mad. Too much innovation is traumatic and will lead to revolt. Medicis changed the entire structure of Italy while saying they loved the republic, they paid homage to tradition; while actively destroying it.

Those who finish a revolution are rarely those who start it.

Do not go past the mark you aimed for, always stop on a victory.

Good luck is more dangerous than bad, it gives you a false sense of confidence instead of teaching you a lesson.

The rhythm of power often requires an alternation of force and cunning. Always moving. Never be static.

Accept the fact that nothing is certain and no law is fixed. Humans are known for creating forms, and categories. These are tools to help us understand the world, not boundaries.

Take nothing personally, it is often the reflection of the other person rather than having to do anything with you.

Overall, this book was mediocre, I do not regret reading it, and it was not as bad as I expected. I did not give it a kiss of approval to say goodbye, BUT it got 4 taps on the back. So there is that.

5.2/10

[ccaptain]

@dupliciti: 👫 bam ( meme source. )

i. The turning point of H:SR Kaeya's change of behavior and easing into the relationship, funnily enough, was when Sampo threatened to sell him out. I really want to hammer how good of a thing this was to happen, because it allowed Kaeya to understand that this was just Sampo's way of playing. Not only he believes that, had he really wanted to sell him out, he wouldn't have been given a warning or anything of the sort- Kaeya would have just been captured and hauled away. Instead, not only Sampo engaged with him by making physical contact that not even Kaeya, of all obvious people, could misurestand- but from what happened, he read no underlines, no need to be verbally reassured about compensation suddendly lacking, nothing of the sort- he understood that it was just a playful threat, and not only managed to let himself relax, but also to make very valid points with logic by straightforwardly debunking the playful possibility of it. Not only that, he made sure to reciprocate the physical contact to let Sampo know he wasn't out of line and to invite him in.

ii. Being mysterious to keep Sampo interested and on his toes isn't something he finds difficult at all. Seriously, Kaeya is naturally mysterious- most of the curiosity people have towards him is due to that. He doesn't even know himself fully, so there's always going to be a surprise about him that is a surprise even for him. In hindsight it's a pretty funny gag. A Fool of the Elation and a being of the Enigmata are both surprised because the being did something weird and funny again- 

iii. Kaeya has seen a lot of straight up cruel people, and in terms of that he considers Sampo very morally-gray oriented. Overall, he sees Sampo not as a good person- but as a good Pathstrider. Most of his actions, if not all of them, seem to be motivated by the consistent pursuit of personal elation- isn't staying on their Path a good thing that should be praised, and isn't his Aeon proud to have such a devoted follower? Not to mention that Sampo can be reasoned with- he can be swayed into a different decision with many things (if kisses do end up being one of it, Kaeya will need five minutes to giggle by himself, despite not using this power for evil), cash first of all, and he isn't insensible to reasons. He can do things outside of being paid to do them and just because he wants to, as he has observed and is somewhat fascinated by. Kaeya isn't new to the concept of being a mercenary, either- steady money can sometimes only come by when doing dirty jobs, but its necessary to have a certain lifestyle and not just scrape in hopes to survive. There are worse things Sampo could have done- there are worse things he could do, too. In comparison to some of the scum he has met, including the head of the Monastery he's pursuing like a bloodhound, Sampo is pretty mild for Kaeya. He can work with that, and he's a respectful employer who wouldn't ask him to do something overly dangerous or humiliating. Even in general: as long as someone is reasonable, Kaeya will work with them without bending over backwards and letting himself be walked over. What he offers are logical solutions that would consistently benefit both parties involved. You can't steamroll him- but you can bargain with him.

iv. The fact that Kaeya doesn't feel paralizingly embarassed when flirting and playing around with Sampo has something to do with the stepping stones they can both walk on that makes their Paths mutually beneficial to eachother. There's deceit and dissimulation in how Elation can distract away from unpleasant but true clarity, contributing to its shrouding while in high spirits, wanting to get away from the bad mood truths may bring. In a way, Elation compliments the Enigmata well- and the Enigmata does the same; sometimes, shrouding an hurtful reality behind falselihood can lead to a much happier time, when one doesn't wish to see past the barrier they have created to keep the autenticity of it out. It's like finding and wearing the lost twin of a glove you used to feel comfortable with, if we wanna be poetical. This, of course, reflects in their relationship, and it's however, not entirely the reason, as the main one is that he's growing both comfortable and playful around Sampo and that he's essentially matching energies. He likes the energy he's given, so he gives it back- kissing is actually very pleasant, and so is the physical proximity. It's just that simple for him.

[sakuraswordly]

Tsubasa of Phantasia Season 1 continues from Tsubasa chronicle. In Tsubasa Chronicle Fei Wang Reed and the clone all vanish, right? But in Tsubasa of Phantasia, both Fei Wang Reed and the clone are still alive. And both Syaoran and Watanuki didn't have to pay their price to exist in this world.

That's why Syaoran's personality is based on the Tsubasa chronicle 100%. But you will see how much Syaoran changed from silent, gentlemanly to happy and playful(Thank Sonic later in the future)

I fell in love with Tsubasa Reservoir chronicle both manga and anime since 10 years old without knowing the words they said lol.(Before Tsubasa Tokyo Revelations both manga and ova came out.)

Because this Tsubasa chronicle. My first time studying English by myself. (Some my mother taught me.) Start to know Einstein because of this. Start to know Japan and first time learn Japanese by myself before finding a teacher to teach me Japanese. (Before became Tsubasa fan, I was Card captor sakura fan back then. (interval between 7-9 years old.)And the first time I started to study Japanese culture and Anime. But not not serious.)Start watching youtube because of this. I finally met Tales of Phantasia because of this.(And finally fell in love with tales of series.) The whole reason why I want my own computer. Because in the past I didn't want a computer at all(Why is this thing important anyway? Something like that.).

Another goal of mine is my comic show you guys see how good and talented people were in the past. And I want you to check that the owner who tells themself that they are original, makes sure they didn't steal from the real owner even betray the owner in the back.

Another goal of mine is to my comics, preventing them from becoming a barrier for art fans and company owners but to help them, and give them hope.

What Albert Einstein said....this is why I made this comic. Why I see my comic really important in the future......

That's why I was like Luz back then. I am not Tsubasa Chronicles fan anymore. I just create AU to continue my 10-year-old's dream that's all.

People said humans had only 1 dream paths path in life. But for me, I had 10 dream paths in life that want to fulfil. The dream that I want to fulfil now is to prove that my mother is not evil and never walks the wrong path.(If you want to know my feeling. Study Kyoko Sakura's life and you will understand why. Kyoko's family used to be poor because no one would go to listen to her father's teachings at the church they owned. This was because of his 'radical' ideas on religion. Her wish was for people to listen to her father's teachings.) And the next reason is that I want people to check me that I'm a bad person too if my mother is called a bad person.

And the dream I chose to do a comic on Tumblr is the same wish as Sonic’s wish. I can't go outside because I didn't have enough money. This is what I can do for the world I care about.(I don't think I need money now because money can't save my life or make my dreams come true later. After I knew what happened to Steve Job in the past. Let me give you a hint. I saw how selfish people were like what Steve Job saw and been through. How I knew about this? Ask my mother.)

I make the comic to avoid situations like Don't Look Up 2021 ‧ Comedy/Disaster ‧ ever happen again. I don't want people all around the world end up like Don't Look Up 2021 ‧ Comedy/Disaster or like NieR Replicant ver.1.22474487139... ever happen again. This is my another dream. The impossible dream. This is the true reason behind Sonic action why he want to stop Eggman. This is my another dream. It's true that Eggman does technology, but out of his own selfishness. Even robots can heal or life-like, but to be honest, this is not what I want. Eggman is not real evil person but even so this is not the world that I want.

Human is selfish, yes, but not evil. That is why I want to be by their side. Although I can't understand their feelings. It's like sonic being with Chris and not mad at Chris at all. This is my another dream. I want to know I always watching them and be there like their side even this world won't understand their feeling or their heart.

If you want to know why I understand characters deep, study Maya Kitajima practicing as "Helen"(Helen Keller) and "Princess Aldis"(Princess Origeld And Princess Aldis). Maya Kitajima from Glass Mask, who is able to memorize full scripts and acknowledges lots of acting techniques, but is barely average at school. She lampshades this by thinking she's just not interested in academic prowess.