#and of course. freewill. behind it

[forestofsprites]

when after over a decade of angelic freewill you successfully carry out the very duty that saw you put on earth. and whatnot !

[spop-romanticizes-abuse]

pt. 2 to answer @altofmoth 's question (click here to see pt. 1!)

5. mind control

mind control is a classic villain's move but when that villain is supposed to be sympathetic and who later gets into a relationship with the same person they tried to control... yikes.

catra is visibly happy about adora going through excruciating pain because of the virus, she shows no concern or remorse over hurting her former best friend/love interest this way. and she is completely willing to take away adora's freewill if it means defeating the rebellion.

6. attempted murder

yeah, i don't think i have to explain this. again, notice that adora has attempted to murder catra very few times. adora's main objective was just to defeat catra (or get her to join the rebellion) while catra's objective was to always hurt adora in any way possible.

7. catra brags about adora being easy to manipulate

these are just three instances but it's not very romantic to talk about how easily you can manipulate your s/o and take advantage of their weaknesses.

8. weird incestuous undertones

adora and catra were both raised by shadow weaver and has an obvious scapegoat - golden child dynamic. catra especially seeks out shadow weaver's love and validation, and she's jealous of adora because shadow weaver favours adora more.

this is a very common trope between fictional siblings like zuko and azula, cassandra and rapunzel, soren and claudia, etc. and of course, it's a very common dynamic between siblings in real life too, when they are raised by an abusive parent. all of this makes the idea of a romantic relationship between catra and adora pretty icky.

9. catra's redemption or lack thereof doesn't help with this whole situation

catra's redemption is all lipservice. she does actually change at all. let's see,

she still holds adora responsible for things that she didn't do, and acts like adora is a hindrance.

she still uses physical violence on adora for absolutely no reason.

she abandons adora when she's about to die because adora doesn't return catra's romantic feelings (and she later blames adora for always leaving people behind).

not to mention, catra's confession is so guilt trippy. the fact that she apparently loved adora all this time, when she was abusing, manipulating, gaslighting, trying to control and trying to kill adora, is the biggest red flag.

it's not like catra only started liking adora in s5. this confession reframes their entire relationship and implies that catra tortured adora physically and emotionally because she was in love with her. and again, the whole “just this once, stay” implies that catra still thinks that adora abandoned her, after everything that happened.

so yeah, i hope this answers your question!

[dandydrunky]

In The Absence Of Easy

Content warning: angst, hospital setting, mention of needles

Author's note: this is part of a mini series

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sharp smell of sanitizer and iodine inked the room like sharpie, lingering in the air like bad perfume. You tried to ignore it while the doctor scrubbed the heel of your stump like you had a thousand times before, trying to focus on the friction of cotton, but you couldn’t.

You couldn’t feel it. You could only imagine what it felt like, watching it shred between the doctor’s working fingers. She was quiet today, and didn't try to make conversation as you normally did.

You watched in silent dread, the remnant of your leg propped on a padded stool, skin jagged from the latest injury and progress delayed by another setback. Your fingers curled into the paper lined beneath you, tucked under the edge or the bed. It made you sick, ironically so, other than the phantom ache of a limb no longer attached, it still hurt like one.

You flinched, hearing the skipping of tape, even harder when a cool bandage was lined up around the curve of your stump, being pressed down with tape and then gauze. The roll fluttered through the air going over and under, masking the scarred flesh.

Dr. Harrow patted it down. Then, she paused, eyes flicking to your face, looking for any sign of discomfort. The whole process felt invasive to you, so there’s no way massaging the dressings down would have been the worse part.

She rose to her full height and you noticed her scrubs were tighter than last time, around the abdomen, the hem just barely covering the waistband of her pants.

It was hard to feel joy for her in her current state, surely she knows all of her patients are here because of genetics, some mutation or deformation of the sort.

That you could pass down whatever dormant disorder she’s carrying and unintentionally inflict it on her child, the worst punishment of all, life.

Maybe one day it’ll be her kid sitting here on this stiff bed. Hooked up to monitors or better yet in need of a nurse’s aid just to go pee. You almost pitied her, but you knew she knew better.

She set the tray back on the counter, the tools clinking softly.

Painkillers were typically administered next, but you had refused pills, so you’ve been attached to a morphine drip, feeding you micro doses through the course of the day. “You’re all done with me, I’ll send for Dr. Baylor,” Harrow informs, her usual exuberance muffled by the face mask.

You know the routine, you could do it in your sleep.

Harrow peeled the rubber gloves off with snap, tossing them in the can with your bloodied bandages, bracing her hands against the cart. She wheeled it out in a squeaky silence, letting the door close behind her, leaving you on the edge of your bed, waiting, rotting.

A soft knock on the door echoed through the room, but your lips remained pressed flat, uninviting. If this wasn’t mandatory you wouldn’t have even let him let himself in.

“Good morning,” he greeted, not looking up from his clipboard. “For you,” you countered, falling back across the mattress. He stopped short at the foot of your bed, taking a moment to assess you. Still in the spotted hospital gown, hair’s a mess, one purple sock on, and the machines clinging to your arms.

“Are you following your diet?” Since you were weighed last week, there was doubt of any major changes in seven days. “I missed dinner last night,” you shrugged, not bothering to sit up.

This is not what any of your doctor’s wanted to hear, but maintaining an appetite in your condition was hard enough.

You could hear a sigh under the scribbling of notes. You were bound to run him into an early grave; none of his other patients fought their illness with selectively applying treatment.

But freewill, he couldn’t stop you.

“And have you been taking your medication?” The twinge of hope in his voice was comical, but at least you could report that you have and it was time for a refill.

“How have you been feeling with these?”

It wasn’t what you were feeling, it was what you weren't. They were effective when you did take them, but overall you still felt bad. It wasn’t the illness, just the shitty reality of everything. “They make me tired,” you yawned, shifting against the mattress. It wasn’t the most comfortable, but neither were you.

After a counter-productive questionnaire Baylor scribbled down some more notes, punctuating the last one with the click of his pen. “Kid,” he combed a hand through his salt and peppered hair. He really did mean to help you, but he couldn’t force you to accept it. “If you keep up like this you’re only going to get worse.”

“Good thing I have you to stop that,” you droned, uninterested in another talk about life decisions. You were sick of being sick, but the only cure for you was to let it run its course. No more needles, no more pills, no more antibiotics, and no more pep talks. It was proving useless.

He cleared his throat, uncertainty settling. “Not for much longer.”

What does that mean? You grunted, struggling to sit up to face him, “what are you talking about?” Is there something else you missed? You tried to think over the last few days, but nothing was out of the ordinary. Routine check up for the leg and routine check up for the whole body, then you were left alone unless you needed a nurse.

“Your insurance doesn’t cover extended care.”

[doodlegirl1998]

ngl im a mineta defender until the end, now before you jump me let me explain

his behavior is obvi disgusting (lets also not ignore the fact that hori has said hes his self insert) BUT IT IS EXTREMELY EASY TO FIX!

a lot of kids and teens who have similar behaviors often have parents with the same beliefs. not to say that this is always the case but it’s more common than not

which means that they’re raised not knowing that their behavior is wrong. they see it as acceptable, and not only that, but *expected* of them

it is an extremely easy thing to rectify. of course sometimes it’s harder depending on how much the behavior has been ingrained into them, but at the end of the day it is *fixable*

he was failed by his parents for encouraging his behavior and he was failed by other adults/teachers for letting it continue

also it’s not that much of a stretch to say that he was probably heavily bullied. he has a very prominent lisp, he’s a heteromorph, and he’s extremely short. i’ve seen several ppl who hc that he has dwarfism and i definitely agree with that

aizawa doesn’t seem to give a shit because he never takes any action to try and discipline him for how he acts

also im sick of the shinso replacing mineta fics. the only good thing abt shinso replacing aoyama is that ppl don’t have an excuse to replace him.

like for the love of god it’s not that hard to simply change his character. it annoys me to no end. bc i like mineta a lot! his quirk is interesting and he has a lot of potential as a character but he’s reduced to a creepy pervert bc every shonen anime needs to have at least one 🙄

tl;dr stop bashing mineta and start bashing hori

Hi @the-jello-bowl 👋

Stop bashing Mineta and start bashing Hori... hmm. You know what? That's a sentiment I could get behind.

After all, the ultimate problem with Mineta lies in his writing.

At the start of the series, Hori wrote him too perverted with too little of any other redeeming or sympathetic quality. That impression stuck - so a lot of fans want him out of heroism and out of 1A.

This is fair because Mineta's behaviour is triggering for many people, and he could make a dangerous figure as a hero and an adult if left unchecked and if his perversions worsen.

While I understand why, Shinsou replacing Mineta is a lazy way to do take Mineta out of 1A, since Shinsou canonically hasn't shown he deserves to be in the hero class nor shown to have good interactions with 1A as a collective.

While it doesn't make his behaviour excusable, you are right when you say Mineta was failed by the adults around him. Especially his parents and Aizawa, as you pointed out, they were the ones prime positioned to fix this behaviour, yet they did not. We don't know what his parents are like for certain, but I believe his dad was likely a verbally and emotionally abusive misogynist who Mineta idolised. And we know that Aizawa fluctuates between negligence and using his hero grade weapon on Mineta as discipline... so there is no consistent messaging there. Yikes.

Instead, Hori implied Mina had to clockwork orange Mineta to stop him being a pervert which... took away Mineta's whole agency in his decision to stop being perverted. (Did his character even get better at all by his own freewill really if Mina had to do this? Will that 'brainwashing' break one day? Here is another reason to hate Hori's writing.)

Hori also doesn't expand on the things that could make Mineta sympathetic, the lisp, the possibly being bullied in the past, the likely self-confidence issues. He doesn't expand on Mineta's backstory or expand on why he wants to be a hero, really (if it was just girls, he would have quit by now, let's be real).

It is a failure in Hori's writing that he doesnt give Mineta (as a HERO student) a redemption arc where he realises just how awful he's been to the girls and vows to make up for it. This moment could have even begun because Mineta stops his perversions due to wanting to be more well-liked and like Midoriya (who he looks up to). The building blocks are there - Hori neglects them.

TLDR: Mineta is a character that could have had potential, and his quirk is interesting. He had potential for a character redemption arc, potential for an interesting backstory, too.

The reason why Mineta is hated is because Hori wastes all his potential to have a lazily written creepy pervert throughout the majority of the story.

Good traits such as Mineta's bravery only make a large appearance later, and the perversions disappear too late in the story to really salvage his popularity.

Not only that, but being a hero is a privilege, not a right. Mineta has got to show through the story as a member of 1A why he deserves to be there and why he has the character for Heroism - unfortunately Hori fails to do this for him because of the reasons I mentioned above.

A lazily written cowardly perverted character could have worked in a minor villain character, but this is instead in a member of 1A, who we are meant to root for adding to the cognitive dissonance of his character.

[captain-mj]

some ghostsoap cnc with selkie ghost maybe? I'm curious how I'd all work with his coat :)

I love your fics btw thank you sm for posting them!

I've been saving this ask for a rainy day so I wrote most of this the day of ao3 shut down and the other half when my cat died so this just felt right. Also CNC is used as therapy in this because I was possessed while writing it and have no control over it

Ghost didn't feel too nervous handing the coat to Soap. That was a huge sign of the trust he had in Soap. Well. He had also maybe told Price to check in the morning if Soap gave it back, but that's so besides the point.

They had talked everything through thoroughly. It was safe. Ghost just had to remember that as Soap put on his coat and he felt his freewill slowly drip out of him.

"Remember. I push too hard. You get uncomfortable. Simple safe word stops everything."

"Yes, sir." Ghost responded immediately.

Soap swallowed. "Repeat the safe word for me?"

"Gunpowder."

"There you go. Are you sure about this?" Soap asked tentatively.

Ghost had suggested this after researching therapy techniques. Reliving the trauma in a healthy way. Soap mostly had the coat so Ghost wouldn't flip out and fight him. There were still clear boundaries and safe words. Either could step out at any time.

"I'm sure."

Soap nodded and gently bound Ghost's wrists behind his back. They were starting simple. Recreating when the lady....

The lady...

Soap's hand on his cheek brought him back to reality. "Simon."

"Keep going."

Soap nodded and pulled off his mask. He reached down and cut off Ghost's shirt.

"Don't touch me." Ghost snarled at him.

Soap ignored him. Instead running his hands over Ghost's body, squeezing his pecs and scratching down his chest. "Firm. You feel good."

Ghost growled louder at him and tried to get away, but Soap's hands were insistent. It felt good. It was Soap so of course it did. Soap would never hurt him.

His dick was certainly showing interest.

"Please..."

Soap leaned down and kissed him, biting at Ghost's throat. "Just relax and enjoy this."

Ghost's body immediately went lax and pleasure clouded his brain. He felt his pants get unzipped and he struggled more.

"No. No no no."

Soap stroked him slowly, getting a feel for it. "Jesus. You're so big. Not sure how I'll fit it."

Ghost pleaded with him to stop, even as he got hard. He found himself enjoying this a lot more than he thought he would but he wanted to play his part. Soap dripped lube on him slowly. The cold making goosebumps over his flesh. He shivered and tried to tense to brace himself, but the order to relax kept him from doing so.

His warm hand started to stroke him, spreading the cold lube around. "Going to ride you. A reward for all your hard work."

It wasn't expected, but it added a little to the realism. Ghost felt himself falling in a weird space between what actually happened and what's happening now at Soap's hand. He rubbed his thumb over Ghost's slit and made him groan.

Panic and pleasure started to curl up in his stomach. Soap wouldn't stop moving his hand and Ghost groaned.

"Stop. I can't."

Soap huffed. "No. Want to enjoy this." His body was on display. It made Ghost so goddamn horny it was hard to think. He felt so flustered and it felt so good.

Soap continued for a good long time before deciding he had enough. Then he threw his legs over his lap and sat up. He started to slide down on him, head falling back. For a moment, Ghost worried that Soap would hurt himself before realizing he must've stretched himself before hand. He felt so warm.

"No. I can't take it." Instinctively, he tried to escape his binds but he couldn't. His arms strained as he tried to break them and free himself.

"Yeah, you can." Soap started to ride him immediately, clearly enjoying himself. He kept his eyes on him just in case.

Simon panted softly and closed his eyes. He was panicking so much he almost couldn't enjoy it. He didn't want to safe word yet, wanting to keep pushing. Johnny wouldn't hurt him. Never would.

Soap leaned into his ear. "Just feel the pleasure alright? I want you to only feel good."

The order was accidental, but there. All of the synapses in Ghost's brain shifted, sending sparks of just pure pleasure through him. The small aches that never left his body and the soreness in his scars disappeared. All he felt was the warmth and his now impending orgasm.

Warmth and pressure. All around him. Soap's warm skin against his chest. Mouth on his and on his neck. His entire body sang as the pressure mounted and then he came, stars filling his vision.

Soap kissed him softly and moaned into his mouth, riding him through it. Overstimulation hit but it felt so goddamn good. Tears started streaming down his face as his ears rang. His refractory period must've been ruined by the order because he's fairly certain he came again.

His body could only feel the pleasure and without the pain to cut it, everything felt dizzying. It coursed through him and his brain felt like it was melting.

He must've blacked out for just a second because the next thing he knew, Soap was frantically trying to get his attention.

"Simon. Simon." He was shaking him slightly, looking scared. Ghost's coat was back around him so that's why the order ended.

"Johnny." His voice sounded wrecked and dopey even to his own ears. "Johnny."

"You okay? Jesus, I knew this wasn't a good idea I am so so-"

Simon kissed him softly, holding him close. "Perfect."

"What?"

"Perfect."

"You blacked out."

Simon shrugged and grinned, eyes focusing a bit more. "Cuddle me."

Johnny looked surprised but he did cuddle him. "You never really ask for this."

Simon shrugged and snuggled him, loose and vulnerable. "Yeah. Usually because I think of her. But right now...

I only think of you."

[deviantartdramahub]

Hello. This might be a long post so I am hoping everyone reading this would read it in its entirety before commenting. I've been on dA for 15 years. Under different usernames - I was Evies friend through a lot of things. But what broke the camel's back so to speak for me was the betrayal she did to Sky.

Just a little more info regarding what Sky mentioned: Evie and this person - I'll call him john. John did stuff that made Evie I guess uncomfy and "traumatized" her (evie). Sky being who she is, decided to mess with John and share what she's been doing with Evie. Evie was laughing saying "this is our secret" and not even 24 hours later. (instead of TALKING TO SKY about how she truly felt) Evie blocked sky and told John about what was going on , showing screenshots. John of course msged Sky about it saying "guess where I got these from" and it was obvious how he got them.

When Sky told me this. I thought long and hard about all the times that I backed Evie up. That I supported Evie. I trusted her cause she was legit my first friend when I started dA 15 years ago. I started thinking about what has she said or done behind mine or others. Was our friendship real? 

So. After thinking about it for a good 24 to 48 hours. I blocked Evie on everything. I didn't like that she didn't communicate her true feelings about what Sky did. If she would've just said "hey. I don't like what you're doing, please stop" Sky would've stopped and been done with it. I didn’t like that for whatever reason Evie has SOMETHING going on and would always ghost us, make us worried for her and her health. Never talking to us. After what she did to sky. I questioned EVERYTHING. All motives that Evie had/has in the past. 

--- Now. That's out of a way I have a couple of messages.

1.) To Evie cause I know she might still  read this tumblr. : I loved you like a sister. I trusted in you to communicate with me and all your friends regarding what you are feeling. We all would've been there in one way or another but I'm sorry to say that because of what You did to Sky. I don't trust you anymore. I can't. And even though I don't trust you. I do hope you find YOUR PEACE in your life.

2.) To SweetShineKahale. I know you feel like I "enable" people. I don't. Keep in mind that everyone has the free will to CHOOSE their actions. I choose to let those people make those choices and risk being judged. - With that said: I know you feel that I've been harassing you and stalking you. TO be honest? I haven't done a thing. I haven't mentioned you, I haven't been to your account. I honestly no longer care what you post or if you post. The only time I ever hear about you is when someone decides to tell me "OH. look at this" or see posts on this tumblr about you (with or without mentioning you).

I will say that I'm sorry for my bluntness towards you. I have always TRIED to treat you with respect and the Adult you are. When You accused my friend Fina for OC theft, purely based on name, traits and color palette - My respect for you went down the drain.

I'm sorry you felt attacked by my words. It really wasn't my intention to make you feel attacked. I've only ever tried to have you see the otherside of what you are putting out there. You know. The 2 sides of a coin. Your side of the coin versus another side of the coin.

I tried to be your friend. I tried to help you. You asked me to do the impossible which is to essentially have Fi accept you and whatever. When I refused - I'm labeled as a harasser, cyberbully and enabler.

Again. I'm sorry for my part in all of this. I admit to be rude. I admit to being blunt. And I will admit I'm a bitch when it comes to false accusations without proof. - But I REFUSE to take away someones freewill to choose what they do.

If you choose to continue. That's your choice and I accept it. LIke with Evie. I do hope that you find peace as well.

3.) To everyone else. I may be an adult. But I still have a mindset of being a "people pleaser". The funny thing is offline, I don't give 2 cents what others think of me. I really dont cause I get to deal with them face to face and if I don't want to. I don't have to go anywhere. But ONLINE - that's a different story. Everyone has a persona they like to fall back to. My Persona on dA was trying to be a "helpful and supportive" person. but honestly that hasn't done me any favors as of recently. You'd think I'd learn by now that anyone will do anything - again. free will and all that jazz. So. I NOW stick to my own corner of dA. My watchers. My friends. Those who like my art be it scrapbooking, digital or written. 

Wishing Everyone Peace of Mind.

Don't feel too bad, our friend. If anything, we're around for you here.

[l-in-c-future]

Book Reading: Eastern Perspective Humanistic AI 4C: The onslaughts of AI on human minds

USA and China dominate the designs of AI technologies in their global races of technological supremacy and domination. However, the creation, operations, designs and ownerships of AI technologies are in the hands of big technology companies that put profits over everything, as well as vested interests and state actors who pursue political agendas and missions.

Recent classic example is Elon Musk and Trump who weaponise Starlink to force Ukraine to accept political agreement that sacrifices Ukraine's interests for the sake of secret division of power between USA and Russia.

The Chinese Communist Party is notoriously known to weaponise AI technologies to exert full scale of state techological survaillance and mind controls of their citizens at micro level.

The contents and information generated by these two countries' vested interests are to seduce people into their information traps in order to mold people's ideologies, value systems, worldviews, life views, entertainment views, and religious views. People's are being controlled and manipulated subconsciously and naturally without awaring the impacts.

The 'world' people can see, the 'knowledge' people are taught are carefully, precisely calculated and set up in the alogrithms of the AIs. The AIs become people's addicted flavourable magic mirrors that can always generate tailored personal preferences according to their cyber space consumptions (browsings) profiles.

As people fall deeper into the ILLUSION traps of reality, the more they are disconnected with the facts of reality. The more and more they think they are making real choices out of their freewill whilst they are being set up and used by the big vested behind the screens for reinforcing the latter's political or economic benefits.

Trump and Elon Musk's agendas and their behaviours were clearly reflected during Trump's second term. At the political dinner meeting between Trump admin senior officers and ALL the big social media companies' bosses, they gathered to show loyalty to Trump. Amazon's boss immediately responsed by 'reshaping' the opinion page of Washington Post for 'promotion of freedom'. Yet the 'freedom' Amazon wants to promote is to create, shape and lead opinion spinning FOR Trump and his government.

The collusion between political and technocrats' profits and power seeking desires to achieve their own agendas were not hidden as Trump returns political flavours to Elon Musk by turning the White House into a giantTesla showrooms. Over years, Musk's business receive $21 billion from US government but Musk claimed he 'helped' Ukraine by providing Starlink 'free' to them insteading of mentioning the ULTIMATE GENUINE price Ukraine is now foreced to pay is TOTAL surrendering of 50% of their critical resources to USA. Of course, Musk's enterprise will have FREE access to these critical natural resources to make his satellites, electronic vehicles as Musk becomes the de facto CHIEF staff of the White House.

Despite this, these technocrats still have many users and followers. The personal postings of Elon Must attracted millions of views despite his political stance changed radically in the last couple of years.

How Elon Musk weaponised X against Ukraine’s president Zelensky

AIs possess invisible influcences on the functioning of human minds. AI technologies don't just shape and reinforce people's specific preferences, vested interests weaponise AIs to INLFUENCE people's political judgements in order to reshape politics, economic and social landscapes to fit the agendas of the vested interests. In additional to political influences, AIs can impact many aspects of people's daily life through the vasted information (SET, DESIGNED, FILTERED, AND CENSORED) by the owners and creators of the AI alogrithms to assist people's decisions and judgements. AIs can replace human decisions makings. These are not fictitious, these have been reality as the rise of AIs are an unreversable trend to displace human jobs and functions across different industries globally.

More and more, the vested interests behind the big AI techs have successfully convinced people to believe that human minds are not capable to overcome the intelligence of robots. Natural intelligence of humanity cannot surpass supermachines' intelligence without the 'assistance' of the supermachines.

This becomes an onslaughts on human capabilities to make judgements as people become more relying on AIs to process vast quantities of big data to calculate. The reliance and addiction to AIs will gradually dwarf people's INDEPENDENT THINKING because the big vested interests who own and create AIs indoctrinate people to 'forget' and 'escape' the 'difficulties' of deep thorough considerations and evaluations BEFORE making decisions. They lead people to believe that it is 'more convenient' and 'easy' for people to skip the 'troubles' and 'difficulties' of the THINKING, EVALUATING, CONSIDERING and JUDGING processes. Such abilities that make human beings suprass ALL other living creatures to be INTELLIGENT creatures.

Instead, we are getting used to and comfortable to hand over the natural process of NATURAL HUMAN intelligent working to AIs because we are 'inferior' species who have emotions. Emotions affect our judgements. Machines do not have emotions, therefore they are 'better' decision makers.

Yet the big techautocrats will not say emotionless AIs treat humans as machines instead of understanding and honouring HUMANITY. Their designs are not always humane centered.

They won't tell people that as people are REMOVED from the PARTICIPATION of decision-making process, people are diminished and dispowered for being DEPRIVED of the NEEDS of feeling needed.

As AIs progressively replace and displace humans jobs, human beings will lost dignity of feeling constructive and productive. In this sense, AIs designed to replace and displace human minds' NATURAL intelligence do not really 'free up' people to more 'meaningful' works. People are simply being deprived of having works and meaningful participation in works. People become unproductive if they cannot find other jobs that allow them to exercise HUMAN ABILITIES.

Gradually, displaced human beings will be degraded into uncivilised people not different from beasts because of idleness as described by Mencius (Mengzi) in the first book of dialgoues with Téng wéngōng (an emperor of Teng State during the Spring and Autumn period). As most people displaced by AIs or willingly surrenders HUMAN MINDS natural intelligence works to AIs in order to 'escape' "challenges" of works into 'easy and comfortable' life, human beings will lost the motivation to learn and improve. The motiviations that had been driving PROGRESSIONS of human civilisations since human histories began.

[oscengrim]

The anxious feeling of wanting to write something, but then never getting the nerve to publish or actually finish it. There are so many drafts, so much research for one fandom, yet actually finding the words to make good fanfiction feels impossible.

So many of my works get decommissioned before I even publish the first chapter because I just can't.

Some decommissioned works that didn't get around to but were major projects with hours of work behind it. This is not mentioning my many doctor who projects that I dropped over the years.

As She Drowns —Finnick O'dair | Enemies to Friends to Lovers |

"Igne natura renovatur integra" Through fire, nature is reborn whole.— Latin Proverb

Summary: A smile here, a wave there, the 67th Hunger Games made Emrin Grazewin an expert at playing the Capitol except Emrin hates the Hunger Games. She hates the Capitol. She hates President Snow, and most importantly, she hates Finnick Odair, not that anyone would ever know it. Of course, no one would ever know. They couldn't know, not when Snow decided that the Capitol needed a distraction and what better way then a relationship scandal.

Reason for decommission: I was unsure where I wanted to start in Emrin's story. Ended up writing part of her Games, resulting in me getting exhausted as I struggle with writing dialogue. This was a more recent drop as stopped writing this like a month ago.

Once Bitten, Twice Shy— Supernatural |found family

This one barely got its feet off the ground. I rewrote it so many times. I wanted my OC, Maxine Clarke, to be independent. I loved the way Dean was with children in supernatural, so I was like, "Hey, what if Sam & Dean found a teenager who was just as reckless as they are at times." Of course, they would try and discourage her from hunting, but after a while, they just get tired of her just showing up places that they just sort of adopt her into Team Freewill.

I bounced back and forth between how old she would be, the timeline, what season to start in. Overall, it was just a mess that I got super tired of and deleted most of my work out of frustration. I love found family, and I don't think I could ever get enough of them.

Yours Truly Joan John, — 1940! Steve Rodgers

Oh boy this one was a cringy one. So much research only for me to hate it. Way to much of a Mulan concept going. What can I say, got bored. Researching for this one was fun thought, writing not so much. I struggle with writing as it is but adding the element of the 1940s was a major yikes.

Most recent project

Undetermined name —Young! Din Djarin

So exciting. I've been working on this for week or two. Trying to navigate through the cringe of the earthling trope but it's been a blast to plan out. Plotting Corrie's journey and researching Mandolorian culture has interested me. The idea behind it being, "What if two foundlings found comfort in eachother." I just — my heart. I haven't wrote most of the romance yet as it's been soooo slow to get the build on how she comes across the Mandolorians but I really hope I don't drop this one before release as it's just too cute.

[cinemacentral666]

Europa (1991)

Movie #1,167 • Ranking Lars von Trier #1

Europa is a stunning work of art, both from a technical perspective as well as an emotional and thematic one. The final picture in his Europa trilogy, this film easily (and immediately) ranks among his very best works. Exploring a post-war Germany through the lens of an idealistic American, Leopold Kessler (played by Jean-Marc Barr), who just wants to "show some kindness" to the people in the wake of Nazism. His naivety borders on the absurd and he's used as a pawn by almost every other party to achieve some goal, all of which run in stark contrast to his own childlike intentions. Anchored by an unusual and unsettling second person narration (with the legend Max von Sydow as The Narrator), the use of hypnotic voice is different and effective. It can be seen as an inner monologue but not quite of this man's volition, like a driving voice against freewill.

The most jarring and experimental visual technique deployed is Lars von Trier's juxtaposition of black and white with bursts of color, typically at the same time and occasionally with the aide of back projections, which characters sometimes interact with as if they're occupying the same space. The result is a surreal and magnificent delight, inventive and blissful yet never grating. It's masterful and unlike anything I've ever seen before. I found myself deeply pondering the meaning or intentions behind these choices. Perhaps color is meant to represent truth or fear or both. But in all honesty, the point — whatever it may be — seems far less important than the simple and tactile wonder it invokes.

On some level this might be seen as sympathetic towards Nazism, but that strikes me as reductive. This is far more complicated than any single "good vs. bad" reading. Years later of course, LVT would land in hot water for his 2011 Cannes presser "I'm a Nazi" comments, so seeing this in retrospect it would seem like there might be even more to it, but I'll always keep striving against any easy narrative because it plainly feels like that's what the art is beckoning we do.

This is is a film about the individual's plight in the face of giant, impenetrable forces, who will stop at nothing from seeing the individual as nothing more than a pawn regardless of what side of the fence they operate from. How even a man with the purest of heart never has any agency and will always turn towards destruction in the end. How on each descending rung of the ladder we find an exponentially increasing need for normalcy, as those on the top — whose lives more or less remain unchanged — engage in psychotic behavior on whims sprung from greed and a fear of "the other," however real or imagined.

We follow Leopold's saga as an apprentice sleeping car conductor on the Zentropa company's Frankfurt to Munich line. The concept of the unending train loop is in easy metaphor on so many levels: from the circuitous nature of the human urge to move forward and away, to the fascist rallying cry, itself the kind of dangerous lie that leads to societal collapse in and around the infrastructure. The film is littered with a cavalcade of tremendous performances — many of LVT's usual suspects, like Udo Kier and Ernst-Hugo Järegård, among others — all of which seem to embody a trope or symbolic personality type (we have the femme fatale, the shameful patriarch, etc.). Lars makes a cameo himself, comically and perfectly cast as simply "Jew" — a provocateur till the bitter end.

When Leo is pushed past the brink of all sensibility, he commits an atrocious act: the heinous murder of dozens of innocents, detonating a bomb on the train as it goes over a bridge, himself among the many victims. The Narrator's booming voice commands that in ten seconds he will drown. But it takes a lot longer than that to die from drowning. So the recitation is slow and painful. None of this misery happens or happened in an instance. The pawns are almost always the ones who push the misery in gears. But what Europa reveals is how little control they ever really had.

SCORE: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

And so that concludes my series on RANKING LARS VON TRIER. He is the final tally (thanks for reading)...

15 Epidemic 14 Medea 13 Manderlay 12 The Idiots 11 Antichrist 10 The House That Jack Built 09 The Boss of It All 08 Dogville 07 Melancholia 06 Dancer in the Dark 05 The Kingdom/The Kingdom: Exodus 04 The Element of Crime 03 Nymphomaniac 02 Breaking the Waves 01 Europa

[thornstocutyouwith]

With the other introducing himself, Set stared for a moment, then said ���Okay.” Not really one to go around introducing himself to often. He usually did not do much toiling these days in the realm of mortals, since they had written him off as the villain, and then stopped worshiping him. Though this was something becoming commonplace among the humans. Perhaps, he imagined, it was the blood sacrifices. Humans had so many issues, especially with sacrifices. As if they weren't all capable of being killers. Monsters, even. Set found it so amusing how moral some humans could be, until…There was always an until, for more of them, than less.

But something could always be broken inside these creatures, supernatural ones, even, that could bring out that monster in them. Gods once were so good at bringing it out. But then they turned, and that turn had made the gods weak, as humans and the like, those born of this realm, had a special gift, one Gods seemed to not have, or other beings of such greater purpose, anyway. They were able to choose, with their freewill, their 'giving a name, holding power over them'. Of course, it was funny, how such lowlife creatures were given something even gods could not break, and that was their faith in something. If a human could not believe something could be done to them, then, could it? Not of the holy aspect, he supposed. That was why those who turned from the Gods of the Ancient world had 'weakened' those gods, by directing their faith, onto something else. Their hopes, in something else. Lending that new thing power, and taking away the control gods loved.

Set nodded as Ricardo continued “Yes. So it is said and so it is written. I have protected plenty of my brethren.” And he suffered for believing in their kindness, while his sister wife slept behind his back, and poisoned their child against him, and drove him…insane, it might be said. Taking his manhood from him, being the finale, and most fatal of those treacherous acts. His ability to spread his seed, because he caught them, his brother and sister, being unfaithful to him. Loyalty was once so important to the Egyptian God, of course he was bound to fall from grace. It was set from the day he ripped out from his mothers stomach, into this realm. He was to always be washed in blood, and seen as wrong, his rights hidden away. Ra would be dead, if not for him, saving the other from that snake. The mortals forget that tale.

“I could not say. As gods, we are capable of remaking ourselves, over and over again. Perhaps he was, sometimes. Other times, not so much.” He commented, not really having much thoughts on Thoth these days. In these modern times, gods had little thoughts on much at all, mostly desperately trying to cling onto what little worshipers they had left, and getting drunk, spreading their seed, even? He had no idea, honestly, he could only get drunk and wander the world, isolated. Hated. For being who he was, for his rightful anger at the betrayal done to him. He belonged nowhere, and he didn't care. He got plenty of fulfillment in the little chaos' he created, despite the loss of faith in him “Have you come here only to talk of Thoth with me?”

"Thank you"

Looking at the clearly divine being, Rico took the seat, smiling a little. He had no idea why Rhorh had seen fit to set him up but he did not mind as it got him out of the house. Of the many gods of Egypt, this deity had the worst reputation yet seemed to be kind. Thoth like magic always had a plan that no one knew but it always worked, some time is unexpected ways.

"I am Ricardo... I hope that you were not waiting too long."

As Ricardo looked to the deity he smiled a little as the stories he had heard came to mind. His grandmother appreciated the man for his warrior nature, while his father had no true feelings, good or bad, as he slept while Set was most active. A waiter came over and Rico ordered a drink before needing time to look over the menu to decide on food. Thoth described the man in many ways prompting Rico to use it as a way to speak.

"I heard you were a great warrior and protected Thoth a few times. Was he always so let's say insulated?"

[toasterdrake]

Other Half of Me

Yelena Belova x gn!Reader

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 2.4K

Warnings: alchohol consumption

@crystalisedabyss requested: "Yelena belova x reader maybe about their first date ? or her meeting readers family / friends xx"

A/N: Here it is! I went with meeting friends, but I'd be happy to do family/first date if you'd like as well <3. I hope you like it, my love!

🥂🥂🥂

You'd never seen your girlfriend so nervous.

She was currently pacing around your shared bedroom, wringing her hands and wearing a valley into the carpet.

You'd been dating Yelena for almost a year now. In that time you'd seen her take on -- and effortlessly defeat -- people twice her size. (Not that they're hard to find.) She'd faced every enemy with unwavering determination and fiery gusto. That was what you liked about her: her resolution to stick to her beliefs, never allowing anyone to sway the path she knew was right.

Of course, this led to many disagreements, as both of you refused to adjust your differing stances. 

Eventually, worried she'd lose you to discordance, Yelena had confessed to you her trauma-saturated past. She explained how her freewill was forcefully taken, and how once liberated, the thought of another controlling her had been a plague. She admitted to being unable to stand the idea of acting without personal control.

All you'd needed was to understand. That night, all the horrors she'd gone through in the Red Room came pouring out from behind a collapsing dam, and all her strange behaviours became clear. You saw the weapons she hid around her apartment in a new, grievous light. Your heart ached for her. 

Following Yelena's revelation, the bond of trust between you two had become unshakeable. With your gentle guidance, Yelena slowly learned that making compromises and admitting wrongs doesn't equal giving in. She had expected you to reject her after seeing her dripping ledger, so when you only offered stronger unconditional care, she found herself falling for you harder.

You'd actually first met when she challenged a club's bouncer to a fight after he refused to believe her ID was real. You'd strolled over, oozing charm, and coolly delivered a line sure to have the beautiful blonde swooning. However, you'd underestimated the distance of the wall; which became clear when you tried leaning on it and instead fell over. 

Somehow, your blunder was endearing to the former spy, and one hospital trip for your concussion later, she gave you her number and said to get in touch once you'd recovered.

The experience certainly left you with a tale to tell your friends that night. A tale of a fiery Russian beauty whom you couldn't get out of your head.

After a few days of 'resting your brain', during which you weren't even allowed to watch television or browse your phone, you finally got the all clear and eagerly texted the girl you'd been thinking about all week.

Yelena had taken you to the beach. The day had been nothing short of magical; after a peaceful stroll alongside the steadfast waves, she'd taken your hand to lead you around an amusement park, wide-eyed at every wonder and buzzing like an excited kid. You knew then that you'd be a fool to ever let this girl go. 

Until now, the two of you had kept your relationship quiet. Both of you were private people, and while you took great comfort in gushing to your friends in the early stages, it had been incredibly nice to simply be a pair and enjoy your private life together.

However, your friends had recently begun pestering you to meet your partner since everything was going so great and they were all sour single pringles. After a while, you ran out of excuses.

It wasn't that Yelena didn't want to take this step -- she was keen to meet the people who'd gained your trust so intimately -- but she couldn't help feeling apprehensive.

Admittedly, you were nervous too. What if they didn't approve of her? Would they force you to choose one or the other? What would you do then? You knew in your heart things would work out fine, but your head still had uncertainty to stress over.

Sighing, you stand from your place sitting on the bed and halt her vigilant trot by placing your hands on her waist. Yelena instinctively links her arms behind your neck, but doesn't look at you, instead studying the hem of your shirt.

You lean in closer to brush your nose against hers in an eskimo kiss, causing her gaze to flick up and meet yours. You give her a reassuring smile, rubbing your thumb over her flank soothingly. Yelena melts into your touch, inclining her head to ghost her lips over yours briefly.

"They'll love you," You say truthfully. 

If they had a problem with Yelena, they would have said so while you spewed about the blonde to them months ago. Things had only gotten better between you two since then. Besides, even if they found something wrong with her they could never change your love for the girl currently liquefying in your arms.

You lean forward, making Yelena stumble and fall back onto the bed. She laughs as you prop yourself up on top of her, straddling her hips and pressing light pecks to every inch of her face. She scrunches her nose cutely as you kiss between her eyes, chest shaking beneath your hands as she tries to hold back giggles. 

Finally, you connect your lips to hers again, then stand and smooth out your clothes. Breathing deeply to calm herself, she follows your example with a lingering smile, anxiety successfully eased. You take her hand and lead her out to the car.

Natasha was currently teaching her sister how to drive, after Yelena had proven that she drove dangerous machines like she played Mario Kart, so you were driving. 

Everyone had agreed that your friend Quinn's bar was the best venue to meet up at. The Jackson Rose is located in upstate Manhattan, and entertains several affluent patrons looking for somewhere to disappear, so Quinn is well-off enough to offer a generous friendship discount. The bar isn't anything special or fancy, but it has been the site of many treasured group memories over the years, and you are beyond excited to share it with your girlfriend.

After a long, arduous drive through New York traffic, you finally pull up in the bar's parking lot. You chuckle upon seeing your friend Blake's motorcycle parked there as well. Yelena sends you a questioning look, so as you walk inside hand-in-hand you tell her about how you were dared to take it for a joyride, and Blake was so furious she made you work in her garage for a month to make up for the damages.

Yelena smiles softly, watching your eyes glaze over with nostalgia as you talk. It had been so long since those days. You'd all grown up, and -- some of you -- had matured. You feel boring now, looking back on your glory days as chaotic juveniles. It almost makes you long for the instability of not having your life figured out.

The inside of The Jackson Rose, or Jake as you'd nicknamed it, is dark. The lights are dim, sucked up hungrily by the dark wallpaper, mahogany flooring, and carmine furniture. It provides a sort of intimate privacy. The place resembles a 1980s diner, complete with booths and stools alongside a bar stretching the length of the building. A vintage jukebox sits in the far corner, permeating the bar with something by Mariah Carey. Though the music almost drowns out the low hum of conversation generated by various patrons.

You spot your friends gathered around their claimed booth immediately, and wave enthusiastically with your free hand, the other holding onto Yelena's tightly so she can't bolt.

Blake notices you first, greeting you via cocky salute before looking at Yelena with a smirk. She jumps down from where she was straddling the top of the leather bench, doc martens clicking on the floor, and stands at her full height of… 5'2".

Eyeing up Yelena as if she stood miles taller than the Russian, Blake blows her ebony hair out of her face and extends a hand to shake. Yelena meets her halfway, shaking stiffly, and you see Blake's face contort subtly in pain. It's smoothly replaced with approval once she's released.

The others finally notice your arrival when Blake pulls you in for a hug, slapping your back heartily. You grin at the smattering of cheers, the bar filling with ruckus as they all greet you.

"Hey, losers," You say cheerily, leading Yelena over to the booth. Uncharacteristically shy, she hangs back behind you, only tethered by her hand clasped in yours.

They all stuff themselves into the other side of the booth for a clear view of you and Yelena, leaving you two to slide onto the opposite bench. There isn't room for Julius, though -- he moved too late -- so ze drags over a barstool and perches on that.

You spare a glance at the etched 'Jake' you'd carved into the wall to drunkenly christen the bar when it first opened. You wonder when Quinn will notice it; the others have an ongoing bet about that. No one has blown up the group chat about it, so you know the stakes still stand.

You notice Yelena sits on the outside so that she wouldn't have to climb over you to escape, so you reach for her hand under the table. She intertwines your fingers, shooting you a grateful look that you rub your thumb over her knuckles in response to.

The music changes to a Green Day song.

Yelena diligently studies the drinks menu to avoid the borderline-suspicious stares of your friends. Continuing your rhythmic movements, you answer any questions they throw her way. After a while, she gathers the courage to speak for herself. You can't help but bristle at how intense they get with your girlfriend, but she handles the pressure just fine.

Eventually, Quinn comes over from serving other patrons, and asks for drink orders. Everyone calls out various alcoholic concoctions, other than yours and Julius' sodas as designated drivers.

The music stutters when Yelena asks for the 'Hell's Blaze'. That cocktail is famed for being a devil's drink; burning all the way down and destroying your insides while it goes. It was what had put The Jackson Rose on the map.

You squeeze Yelena's hand to get her to look at you. She's wearing a smug smirk. You relax a little. As long as she has an idea of what she's getting into.

Your friends jeer as Quinn brings over the shot glass, increasing in volume at your warning glare. Only to collectively gasp as Yelena doesn't waste any time to down the alcohol in one shot, throwing her head back and replacing the glass with a satisfactory chink.

The suspense is tangible; everyone including you is on the edge of their seats. You all hold your breath as Yelena processes the drink. Finally, she looks up with a grin and requests another.

Your friends go wild, crowding around her to clap her shoulder and yell praise. You smile when she engages cheerily with them. She'd earned their respect just for that, and she knows it.

"They're easy people to impress," You tease, more so directed at your friends than your girlfriend. Your grin widens impishly at their complaints.

"Hey! No one's ever withstood the Hell's Blaze!" Matteo whines, before skipping over to the jukebox. 

He plugs in some upbeat dance music that gets everybody moving. You're quickly swept up in the electric energy, jumping around with Yelena and your friends like you're teenagers at a house party you've snuck out to again. Quinn weaves between attending to his customers and joining you all.

Yelena quickly gets drunk on multiple Hell's Blazes. (You suspect she's going to have a rough ride in the morning, and vow to do your best to help when it hits.) You trust your friends to look after her, but you still watch over them with a careful eye from the bar when you take a break to chat with Quinn, who's still on the clock. You're more glad than ever to be her designated driver. 

You set down your soda when Yelena stumbles over and climbs onto your lap. She wraps her legs around your waist in a death grip that you don't think she's aware of exerting. She begins to play idly with the baby hairs at the back of your neck, resting her chin on your shoulder to peer Quinn as he mixes drinks.

Blake strolls over under the pretense of a refill for her beer, shooting you a teasing look that makes you roll your eyes. She's only had a few drinks, which is holding back for her because she has to drive. You hadn't missed her looking out for your girlfriend.

"I think I'd better take her home," You murmur to her, stroking Yelena's back as she nuzzles deeper into you.

Blake nods in understanding. She promises to pass on your goodbyes, then leaves you to walk Yelena out to the car after opening the door for you. You shoot her a grateful look as she does so, and she pats your back, smiling.

You lower Yelena into the passenger side, having to keep adjusting her arms as she tries reaching for you while you buckle her in. You almost melt at her pout, but hold your resolve to walk around the car to the driver's side. When you get there, Yelena is fiddling with the radio even though you haven't turned the engine on yet.

You turn the key for her, and she soon settles on something smooth jazzy with a faraway smile. You watch her wistfully for a moment, then focus on pulling out of the lot.

The traffic flows easily now, and Yelena's head lolls back onto the headrest. Incandescent light washes over her past every street light, darkness shrouding her between them. When you risk glancing over at her, you see her squinting in a valiant attempt to keep watching the road. You reach across the center console to place your hand on her thigh. This seems to work, because her half-lidded eyes flutter shut. Before long her breathing slows into soft snores.

You sigh, endlessly pleased with how the night had turned out. All your friends had loved Yelena; she'd been integrated into your group so smoothly it was almost as if she'd been there since high school. You'd had your doubts about their possible reactions, but you couldn't have wished for better.

You loved your friends, and you loved your girlfriend, and they liked each other. All was right with your world; your two halves harmonising seamlessly.

🥂🥂🥂

Taglist: @themagnificentmx @astupidworkinprogress

love,

- bi-rd ☕

[dark9896]

Plush Babies [Klaus x Reader]

Requested by Anonymous 🐱‍👤

Klaus was having a bit of a problem in getting close to you. Every time he thought he was making some kind of progress, something would come up and make him doubt what he thought was true.

One such instance was his first attempt to explain his feelings for you. It had been a rather nice day, Klaus had thought things were going well after all the time the two of you had spent together in the week prior.

Then just before he could actually say anything, Klaus noticed an insect in your hair. When he tried to assist in removing it, your small monkey plush had gotten rather defensive. Climbing up to where the bug was and did the task itself.

Was Klaus to take that as you being uncomfortable with him? Or was it part of the pseudo freewill each of your creations had?

A second time, Klaus wasn't actively trying to confess to you, but he was definitely on the verge of doing so. Of course, going to lunch together as friends was a normal thing for both of you and this time was no different.

And yet, when Klaus noticed you had a smudge on the end of your nose and offered to help wipe it away... A little bear plushie started kicking up a fuss, forcing your attention away long enough that Klaus had to just give up.

At least at that time, Klaus could say that you weren't uncomfortable with the gesture. But he was still left pondering why your puppets were being like this.

Today he had been hoping for a moment completely alone with you to ask without interruption. Though he feared the answer you would give.

Klaus was about to approach to ask when he tripped over his own feet, literally. Bumping into you, knocking you clean over, and barely saving face by throwing his arms behind your back in an attempt to soften the fall. He tried his best to move off of you, convinced that he would never have a chance with you at this rate. Though he was also trying to help you into a more comfortable sitting position, extremely aware that his hands were in danger of sliding down to your lower back.

And yet, you didn't have just one plushie fussing at Klaus, but the entire army covering your upper torso. Before Klaus could back away, you were frowning. Was this just too far? It was purely an accident. Klaus would apologize until his face was blue because he truly didn't mean for this to happen.

"I don't know what's gotten into you little guys." Klaus blinked a little, "Klaus isn't gonna hurt me. And this was an accident. So stop it, you're all behaving like spoiled brats."

Klaus didn't fully understand what any of this meant. It could be any number of things but...

"[Name], I still feel the need to apologize for knocking you over." Klaus lowered himself as much as he could, "I admit that I did have a couple questions I wanted to ask you, if you wouldn't mind."

"Sure Klaus." You smiled at him gently, "But it'll take me a minute to get the peanut gallery to cool it. They really seem to be against you for some reason."

"Against... me?"

"I can't put my finger on why but whenever you get close, and especially when you might touch me, they get all feisty like this."

"Oh." Klaus rubbed the back of his neck, "I... I see."

[rpgadverts]

Site name and link: Charmingly Splendid, https://ecs.jcink.net Site genre: Based On TV Show Site info: Charmingly Splendid is a Charmed AU roleplay site based in modern era. Our plot started in between season 2 - 3, before we lost Prue Halliwell, most of the story from here onward is our creation so regardless if you've watched Charmed or not, you'll be able to make a character to fit into this new world we are creating. Your name: Paige Contact info: Discord Paige Yin#0119 Role(s) requested: All characters requested below would have plotting opportunities with my character(s), sometimes multiple of them and might be involving in some major site plot if you choose to use them that way. Some of these characters has a more complex plots that I'd like to work out, while others are more open. Either way, you may always contact me on Discord and we can hash out the ideas either of us have and make an even better, funner plot to write! Looking forward to chatting with you!

For Leo Wyatt This is more of a plot wanted than an actual wanted ad. So here we have Leo Wyatt, who I believe everyone following the Charmed franchise is familiar with! However, Leo we have here is not exactly like the Leo we have in the show. Our Leo here is a little rougher on the edges. He's still kind, he's still wise, and he still loves Piper more than anything in the world, but no one would call Leo a pacifist. His experience with Piper and realizing that the Elders' way being a little more than outdated, Leo isn't someone who would obey their rules and instructions anymore. Our Leo here is willing to fight. He will fight along with his charges if that's what he needs to do to protect them. He has also gained hand-to-hand combat skills and know how to use his Whitelighter powers in an offensive ways (like using orbs to levitate, orbing-telekinesis etc). So where did Leo learned all these skills you may ask, because from what we know of the Elders, they are not going to train their agents to fight. No, Leo actually found a band of Whitelighters who have been training to fight, Whitelighters who believe in more than just guiding and hiding behind witches' backs. This band of Whitelighters are called "The Rogues", and I am thinking there should have about 9 - 12 members. Let's keep it to a small group for now. I don't think The Rogues are evil, they just have their own freewill and have different believes than the Elders. They practice to fight and practice to use their powers to help the Greater Good in a more active ways than traditional Whitelighters would. They each could have their own stories that lead them down on this path.

"Lydia Martin" ❥ Original ❥ Whitelighter ❥ Open Age ❥ Strength: A Seer

Here we have "Lydia" which of course, does not have to be the name you pick. What I have in mind is that she has the ability of foresight and is able to warn the group about it, but if you'd like to change her ability, I'm open for it as well. Open personality and history, I am also leaving her age open, so she can be older or younger than Leo, but she would have been in the group longer than Leo because Leo was one of their newer recruit. I'd suggest the lovely Holland Roden as an FC, if you'd like to use someone else though, of course, feel free to run the idea by me. Suggested FC:  Holland Roden.

"Malia Tate" ❥ Original ❥ Whitelighter ❥ Open Age ❥ Strength: Snark and ways with words

Let me introduce you to "Malia", who I'd imaging being the snarky one in the group. I'd like her to be like, the trouble child of the Whitelighter and maybe even one of the few who has started with The Rogue. But like the other two, I'd leave her details to be mostly open so that you can have freedom to create this character. I'd definitely imagine her to be older than Leo, but still open age, open history, personality (if you do not like her to be snarky). Suggested FC is Shelley Hennig, you don't have to use her but I'd like to see more Teen Wolf actors/ actresses around the site and also for plotting purpose. Suggested FC:  Shelley Hennig.

"Cora Hale" ❥ Original ❥ Whitelighter ❥ Open Age ❥ Strength: Lie Detector

This is "Cora", which I imagine to be quite a young Whitelighter to have joined The Rogue, she is probably very skilled and very much in deep troubles that they recruited her early. Again, most of her details are open, including but not limited to her history, personalities, age. I'm thinking perhaps because she is able to detect lies that she was the first one to spoke up for Leo when he requested to join the group, and maybe the two of them have a bond (give Leo and Piper some dramas please!). Suggested FC is Adalaide Kane, but once again, you can use someone else, if you'd like to use anyone who has tons of GIFs with Leo's FC, Daniel Sharman, I'd be more than happy too. Suggested FC:  Adalaide Kane.

For Keenen Bauknecht

Kiefer Bauknecht ❥ Original ❥ Demon ❥ 406 years old ❥ Open profession Meet Kiefer, older twin brother of Keenen who's also the Demon of Dreams. His power is similar to Keenen's although with a little twist. Kiefer's ability would be able to influence dreams, however, when it comes to creating nightmare/ twisting a good dream into a nightmare, he is slightly weaker compared to Keenen.

Most of Keenen's history with his brother is listed on Keenen's app, long story short, the were born in currently Bamberg, Germany, from a long line of witches and warlocks. The family was nice and happy until they the witch hunt caught up to them and condemned them all to die. Burned to death, Keenen and Kiefer became a pair of demons. Their transformation and the abilities over someone's dreams are a manifestation of their mortal conjuring and hallucikinesis abilities.

Keenen and Kiefer are not in good term right now, Keenen is jealous of his big brother's goodness while he prefers to walk the darker path in life. All the rest that's not mentioned here or in the application, you'll have free reign to create.

Face claim, I'd recommend Lucas Bravo (esp if you're keen on having someone more mainstream and have tons of gifs), Janis Danner (since they are twin), Valentin D'Hoore and Giorgos Mavrogiannis.

For Haori Tsukioka This is a request for the Tsukioka siblings. Brief intro on the family, the Nomura is quite a renowned and respected family in Japan, especially in the Sorcery profession/ Sorcery world (魔道). Their father, Aoshi Tsukioka, is stern and a bit of a sexist/ genderist (this is quite common in the culture) so he wants to get a boy to pass his knowledge onto. To the girls, even though he doesn't have as high an expectation from them, he does expect a lot from them, like to excel academically and otherwise; their mother, Kiku Ohara, is a quiet lady, gentle but also obedient and careful. I can see her being very kind towards everyone equally, though she won't go against their father's words. Their parents have no love for each other, their marriage were arranged by their parents since before birth.

The Tsukioka has 4 children, 3 girls and a boy. Of course, the boy would be getting all the attentions from their father as well as all the responsibilities. I am playing the oldest sister, haori tsukioka, who's like a typical first born: confident, outspoken, protective, and like, never really fear of anything. She is pretty close with most of her siblings, but I am also open for conflict, perhaps one of her siblings (maybe the boy) dislike and envy her (and the rest of the girls) for the freedom he could never have.

If you have any questions about the plot, the family, the characters, Japanese's culture, feel free to poke me via DM or Discord.

Saori Tsukioka ❥ Original ❥ Witch/ Human ❥ 28/ 29 ❥ Middle Sister ❥ Open profession

I always feels Saori being a little more reserve and quiet as a middle sister. She probably wasn't too confident in her middle/ high school year and needed Haori to help her come out of her shell, but she can go the total opposite way as well! If she was the quiet/ shy one, I can see her having that big-sis worship syndrome and followed Haori to the States when her big sister had the chance. She could also be the down-to-earth one who constantly try to keep Haori from getting into troubles or spending too much.

FC suggestion:  Tao Tsuchiya(image), Kasumi Arimura, Emi Takei, Alice Hirose, Haruna Kawaguchi, Yuko Araki, Nana Komatsu.

Minori Tsukioka ❥ Original ❥ Witch/ Human ❥ 24/ 25 ❥ Youngest Sister ❥ Twin: Yuori Tsukioka ❥ Open profession

I can see Minori being the baby of the family, a little spoiled, a little whinny, but also pretty out-going and confident and kind of a wild child. I can see her being closest to Yuori and actually be able to understand her twin brother better than the other two sisters. If you want to take her and have drama, we can totally have her ran away with Yuori to the States and never wanted to go back home ever since.

FC suggestion:  Ayaka Miyoshi(image), Minami Hamabe, Sakurai Hinako, Ayami Nakajo, Suzu Hirose, Mei Nagano, Nana Komatsu.

[cosmichighpriestess]

𝕱𝖔𝖗𝖈𝖊𝖘 𝕺𝖋 𝕷𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙

As we have often explained we cannot interfere with your freewill choice, but we can use any circumstances created from it to your advantage by giving you guidance.

Whilst the problems on Earth remain it is creating a time lapse, where much that would normally be taking place is still in limbo and life is continuing to be far from normal. Indeed, the changes are such that life can never completely return to what it was previously, and you have been forced to bring changes in to enable it to continue as near to normal as possible. The truth is that the Forces of Light have taken this opportunity to move things on for you, so that you can take advantage of changes that will benefit you. Ones that would otherwise have taken many years to be introduced, holding you back from enjoying the advances that would have made the quality of life so much better and enjoyable.

It is by no means an easy time to be on Earth but in the future you will appreciate that all of your troubles will have been well worthwhile to raise the quality of life. We know that many souls were already experiencing problems, but be assured that prior to incarnating upon Earth they knew of the hardships they would have to endure. Even those who have sacrificed their lives were aware of how it would occur and accepted their roles willingly, and in some instances knew it was for karmic reasons.

To have ample time to reassess your life and determine what you need to see for the final years, it is important so as to enable you to project your life plan for the future. Of course you would have brought a life plan with you, but as we have often mentioned, circumstances have changed and you can now decide what you wish to experience in the coming years. Set yourself a goal bearing in mind that unlike previous incarnations you do not need to have a hard and fast plan. If you only knew how hard you had to work to get to this point in your evolution you would be celebrating your achievement. You would be celebrating every day. You took on a challenge that few souls would have accepted with full confidence in their ability to succeed regardless of all the challenges they would face. Now you are to reap the rewards of your achievements and so to say, once the dust has settled your future will become clear and a lot easier. You will see dramatic changes take place and the time factor will be partly determined by how quickly you can adapt to them. You are already beginning to see changes that will affect your lives in ways you would not have imagined at the beginning of this century.

For example your reliance upon fossil fuels will eventually change and will have far reaching consequences and be welcomed. Somewhere amongst all of the changes that will take place will be your first open meeting with your extraterrestrial family. There are truly exciting times ahead. But first as your human race you have to put away your petty squabbles and live and harmony and in peace. It sounds like a tall order given that you are prone to fighting with each other, but with the help of the higher vibrations, a more peaceful period lays ahead. Your present situation calls for cooperation to put an end to your problems. And you will understand that working together for the greater good of all is the only way forward.

As multi-national humans you are slowly but surely realizing that you are One Race experiencing according to your needs and beliefs and the differences should be celebrated. They indicate a different view of life that adds to the great expansion and variety of life giving others the opportunity to learn from such experiences. Humans tend to dislike the difference seeing them as challenge to their own, but they are being slowly accepted and integrated into the lives of others.

You are strong-willed and have great experience behind you that will see you overcome whatever obstacles are in your way to a peaceful conclusion. Come together as a peaceful Force for the betterment of humanity and the good of Earth, and that means cooperation and sharing of the world's bounties so that none shall want for a roof over their heads or sufficient food to live healthily. It can be done and it will when the governments of the world accept that every mortal is entitled to a satisfactory and happy life. So much misery and sadness is caused by those who reject the differences between them instead of seeing that by adding them to their lives and creating opportunities that are available to others.

I leave you with love and blessings, and may the light brighten your days and path to completion. This message comes through my Higher Self, and every soul has the same connection to All That Is. In love and light.

[peachnewt]

Midnight Snack - Time Slips By

On September 15th, 2009, I posted the first chapter in the Getting In Deep series; Man on the Inside Part 1. This year, I completely forgot. Plague years have not been kind to my writing brain, but I wanted to do something to commemorate and thank everyone that's been sticking with me through the years. Whether you've been around since '09 or you just found the Getting In Deep series yesterday, I hope you enjoy this little snippet. ^_^

Thank you all for being here. Here's to eventually seeing these two lovable idiots get their happy ending!

This is a purely self indulgent midnight snack, no real vore happens though it is implied. And it is heavily implied that Will and Louis dabble in a bit of roleplay in the bedroom, though there is nothing further than kissing on the page. Enjoy!

Louis understood time had rules and scientific laws that others comprehended much better than him. He still cursed how time eluded him; tick-tocks vanishing like vapor when they were supposed to mark the hour, minute, second. Date. Even Reese occasionally messing with the insides of clocks and wristwatches at his desk hadn't been enough to give Louis warning that he was missing something in the cycle of the year.

But Louis figured something was wrong when Will brushed him off during a case that ate away at their free time and sleep.

"Can you get your own coffee?" snapped Will. "I need this report done yesterday."

Louis huffed and walked to the break room with his barren mug. He'd get a cup of tea for Will while he was at it, maybe then he'd cool off.

Of course the coffee maker was empty. No one else considered the caffeine needs of others. Barbarians.

He filled the coffee maker, and waited, eyeing the new signs HR had put up in the break room. He didn't know if they were supposed to be inspirational, or menacing.

Hang in there.

We are a TEAM!

Where were you five years ago? Where will you be five years from now?

Five years ago I was ending my tour, thought Louis. I would never have imagined doing this. Hell, three years ago I would never have imagined weekly shrink tests and going down my partner's throat on a regular basis.

The aroma of percolating coffee filled the break room, stimulating Louis memory.

And two years ago I was in...

And Louis remembered the event that started all the weirdness in his life. And a few of the good things too.

Two years and two days ago.

That was how long it had been since Louis and Will came to a whole new understanding with each other. And Louis plain forgot. No wonder Will had been acting as coarse as rock salt.

Anniversaries weren't something Louis did or thought about. Mostly because he hadn't been with anyone long enough to count anniversaries. But for Will...

Okay. I fucked up.

Louis grabbed a fresh cup of coffee and started the hot water for Will's tea.

New mission; unfuck up.

***

Louis didn't do romance often, but he could make it up on the fly. Will had to stay an hour late to run his report by Cetz and a few others. He could do something in the hour it took for Will to get back to his apartment.

Right?

Louis bought four packages of Peppermint patties and a leftover bouquet of tired daisies from a corner store. Flowers and chocolate, check. He let himself into Will's apartment with the spare key and laid a line of the individually wrapped mints from the door to the bedroom. He searched the far desk for the container full of the "dice geek" stuff. Bingo, a giant box full of fake tea lights. Romantic ambiance without the chance of a sudden fire. It was a good idea until he realized half the batteries in the lights were dead and he had to get more.

Could he afford to leave and get batteries? No. He called in reinforcements.

"Beni, can you come over to Will's with a package of triple As?"

"Do I want to know?"

Louis hefted the fourth untouched bag of mints in his hand. "I have candy." Translation: MOVE!

"Be there in eight minutes!"

Help on the way, good. He might need it for the next part.

Louis opened Will's second closet, the closet full of things almost as Don't Touch as Will's Star Wars shrine, picked the challenge of the night, prayed for forgiveness, and got to work.

***

Fifty minutes, and much cursing at fabric and buckles later, the door to the apartment creaked open. Louis dropped the last candle, grabbed the bouquet of flowers, and launched himself onto Will's bed, yards of cloth flapping around him.

Will cursed as he kicked something small at the doorway. "What the--?"

Follow the trail, Fanboy, Louis mentally urged while awkwardly trying to figure out how to lay seductively on the bed while drowning in so much freaking fabric. Jeeze, why is the hood so huge?

"Who-- Louis?" called Will, puzzled.

"In here," called Louis. "No lights please." I don't need to shrink the moment I kinda got this right. Okay, this laying on the bed like a gift ain't working. Should I stand? I should stand holding the flowers. Could be holding one of the light sabers but I know Will would kill me if I touched them. I- Holy crap, I can't even get up wearing this thing!

Before Louis could get to his feet, the door slowly swung open. Will entered and froze one step inside, holding the cheap chocolate peppermints he'd gathered. The soft glow of fake flickering lights bounced off the dark polished wood of the desk and bed like golden fireflies. Something soft and instrumental echoed from the stereo.

And on Will's bed lay Louis clothed head to booted feet in Will's Jedi Master robes.

"Happy late anniversary," Louis mustered.

Will stood frozen, mouth slack. "You..."

"It wasn't until today that I realized I completely forgot our anniversary two days ago. So this is me trying to make up for it."

Will gulped, eyes still wide. "I see."

He definitely looks surprised, hopefully pleased and not pissed that I touched his costumes. Okay legs over the edge and.... up we go. Oh, these boots are a bit too small. Ouch. "You gotta be at least a little impressed that I got most of this getup on by myself. There are ties and eyelets and layers and stuff." He didn't need to mention he'd needed Beni's help to get the belt on before he shooed her away with the rest of the candy.

Will stood there, shocked and awkward, like someone that walked into the wrong surprise birthday party.

"Will?" asked Louis, an inkling of what was wrong.

"Hm? Yeah?" Will's eyes shot up from looking at the folds of the long brown robe that flowed around Louis like heavy smoke. His cheeks burned. "Sorry. You laying there dressed in... My mind just rebooted and-"

Louis' hands went to his hips in indignation. "You have no idea what anniversary I'm talking about, do you?"

"No," admitted Will. "I'm sorry! If I had remembered I would have gotten you something nice!"

Louis paced started pacing, the long robe billowing behind him. "I've been racking my brain wondering why you've been so pissy lately. I thought I forgot something important."

"No! It's the case Cetz gave me. He wants me to work it on my own and I'm getting nowhere even with Watch Three input." Will pouted. "It was a bunch of little things making me mad, not you."

Louis huffed and stilled, the robes coming to a stop a few seconds after he did. "And you're not mad I'm wearing one of your costumes?"

"You're forgiven. And this is very nice," said Will, stepping closer. "The candles are beautiful, I'll be enjoying the chocolates for a long while, and you look absolutely gorgeous in those robes."

"How gorgeous?" edge Louis, back straightening under the praise. He needed the ego boost after the stress of the day.

"Majestic. Glorious." Will smiled, put the peppermint chocolates down on the dresser, and inched closer. He grasped the edge of the hood draping around Louis shoulders and lifted it up to crown Louis' head. "Mysterious. Powerful."

Will pulled the hood and Louis closer, lifting up on his toes and tilting his face to press a kiss to the mouth in shadow. Louis' lips lifted at the difference a one-inch heel made, and then tilted his face to the side to kiss a touch deeper. Will tasted of peppermint; probably eaten in the journey from door to bedroom. The fume of mint and dark chocolate filled the scant air between them.

When their lips parted, both were smiling. Will wrapped his arms around Louis' waist under the outer robe while the long sleeves dangling from Louis' arms enveloped Will's shoulders like bat wings. Whatever confusion or mistake between them had evaporated in the meeting of lips and mint.

"How do you even keep the hood in place?" asked Louis.

"Hair clips in the lining." Will leaned closer, chest to chest. His mouth quirked in a sheepish tilt. "I'm terrible with dates. I can barely remember my own twin sister's birthday. Can you remind me what we are celebrating?"

Hell, I ain't making this easy for him. "Guess."

"Uh, first time I met you?"

"Try again."

"Can't be our first date, that was in Winter."

"That true."

"First case?"

"Close."

Will's mental capacity was still in reboot mode from seeing Louis in full Jedi robes. "I give up."

"September 15th. The date of the Freewill raid. The first time I was inside you." Louis' hand drifted down from Will's shoulder to his stomach. "The first time I had to rely on you completely. And, if memory serves, that night you confessed that you liked me."

"Oh." Will's mouth curved into a smile, and his whole body curved towards Louis, warmed by the sentiment. "I would have thought getting you coffee every day and smiling at you was an indicator of liking you."

"Yeah, well I wasn't the most attentive partner until you said it verbally. That's what I'm counting."

"So Freewill is our anniversary. I can get behind that," agreed Will.

They slowly made their way to sit on the bed, Louis gathering the flowers that had fallen from the bouquet, and Will gathering the chocolates to share between them.

"So... I didn't forget our anniversary," said Louis around a mint. "But you didn't even realize we had one."

"Like I said, bad with dates." Will bashfully reached out to the hood of the long brown Jedi robe draped over Louis. "Does that mean you're not going to wear this anymore?"

Louis grinned. "The point of the costume was for you to take it off." He edged the collar aside with a thumb, flashing bare skin. "What do you want to do tonight?"

Will's eyes glimmered in the gold-light. A child with a new toy. "Anything?"

"Within reason."

"Maybe... roleplay?"

Louis hummed and nodded his head. He could do improv, especially if it lead to a happy ending.

"So... Jedi and Rouge?" mused Will. "I can get the Han Solo costume on real quick. Or the Hutt Slayer costume, but that will take some time to put on and maybe some double sided tape. I-"

Louis put a hand over Will's mouth and stilled his overly creative mind going fifteen directions at once. He didn't want to wait for a costume change; he knew how long one of those could get. "How about Jedi warrior fell to earth and needs more force energy. Luckily there is a nerdy earthling full of it."

"That's not how the force works," Will said, muffled.

Louis ignored him. "So he persuades the earthling to share. To save his life. It's a long process." Louis leaned in, bringing Will's face into the shadow of the hood, and then brushed his lips along the hinge of Will's jaw. He trailed a hand down from its place over Will's mouth, over trembling throat and chest, until it rested below Will's sternum. "It might even involve going inside the earthling, right into his core, to get what he needs."

Will gulped hard, caught in the image as deftly as Louis caught him in his arms and robes.

"So, what do you think?" asked Louis.

"Let me splash some water on my face and we can start. Same rules as before?"

Louis grinned. "Always."

***

Will woke overly warm and worn out under the wool Jedi robe. The bed lay in the golden glow of tea lights running their batteries and the dawn cracking through the window shades. He flicked the robe aside and turned from his side to his back, groaning at the lingering ache. Bits and pieces of Will's prized Jedi Master costume lay around the bedroom, part of the belt hanging from the headboard.

Last night had lasted hours, playing earthling and Jedi. One of Will's deepest fantasies come true. If only he could get Louis to join him at a convention wearing the robes.

Louis mumbled in his ear through the SkySprecht. One of the many rules they obeyed when adventurous in bed.

He'd have to take the robe to the dry-cleaner later, but after last night...

Will stretched, smiling at the small weight shifting inside his core.

Worth it.

"Happy Anniversary, Louis."

------

If you enjoyed this short, consider buying me a ko-fi!  

[hyrule-kingdom-updates]

🌼 any of them

Whoops, wrote a fic

Describe one of your OC’s worst nightmares.

An optimist would look at the world of divination with wonder. The universe is a but a magnificent hall of tapestries, beautiful pieces of art woven into anything you could imagine. Tapestries where you are a hero, tapestries where you are royalty, tapestries where your people live with riches, tapestries depicting your eternal victory over your enemies. The universe is endless and bountiful, for in the future, all futures are possible.

This is how Astor usually can depict the good fortune tellers from the worse.

If they’re an optimist, they’re most likely a faker.

The only true divinator that he had met that was even a bit of an optimist was his mother, and even then, he had always had the sinking feeling that she hid a deeper sorrow behind her simple shoes of colorful flames and shining moon and starlight. No, it was quite hard to stick to true, unfiltered optimism in this field, as while it was true that all futures and choices were possible, that freewill ran its course through all who walked the vast possibilities of the universe, the issue came in the fact that you could not travel it to and fro.

There are futures where you live, there are futures where you achieve your wildest dreams, timelines where your childhood is happier, and timelines where you find true love and satisfaction.

But you aren’t in those timelines. The future you have is this one, and it is set in stone.

Walk all the roads you want, say all the words, read all the stories, but when a seer analyzed exactly what world we live in, exactly what end is destined for this string of the universe, there will be no holding back. There is only the unfiltered, raw, typically pessimistic truth of the end. Savor it.

“In truth, Elane, I hate my job. Fear it, even,” Astor set his teacup down, looking out the balcony towards the inky, midnight view. “I fear one day I will find the prediction—the true, ultimate glimpse into the night, that seals in the fact that we’re doomed.”

The Queen only cocked her head with a smile. “Well, I’m flattered that there’s still a ‘we’ in this scenario. Good to know I’ll be joining you in the lockup when my mother find our contraband cucco nuggets—“

“I’m serious, Elane.”

She only laughed quietly, before leaning back in her chair, and gazing out into the pleasant evening. “I know...”

There was a quiet between them, not quite awkward or stiffening, but quiet in the way that you might hold your breath after someone embraces you warmly. Quiet in acceptance, quiet to make room for the sounds of something rare and fickle.

“I swear, I might retire early,” Astor finally said. “Quit while I’m ahead. Head off to Hateno or Mabe and bury my head in the sand.”

“You might want to try Gerudo then, if sand is what you’re searching for. I’m sure Urbosa would be thrilled.”

“Tsk. I am inclined to disagree.”

Elane chuckled again, and she let the quiet embrace her for a moment.

“Eternal doom aside, for a moment, I would posit that there’s hardly anything to fear. You’ve foreseen my daughter’s growth, analyzed the future livelihood of the kingdom, and predicted our victory over Ganon. I’d say it’s hard to bargain with that.”

“Maybe, but I could be wrong.” Astor circled his finger on the lip of his cup. “It happens, people make a prediction, but miss one star, or slip up one word...or perhaps one cow suddenly dies, or one ember quickly fades, and suddenly we’re actually in an entirely different timeline than predicted.”

“Didymos Astor? Wrong about something? Oh my, I never thought I’d see the day...” Elane smiled to herself again as she lifted her cup for another sip.

Astor clicked his tongue. “Well. You should hope I’m not wrong about anything. If someone of my skill makes an incorrect prediction, it would probably be disastrous for everyone.”

Elane winked as she set down her cup. “Well, good thing you’re a prodigy, then.”

“Good thing, indeed.”

Quiet keep their third company once again. Astor still had not sipped from his cup, but Elane was already heading for her fourth refill, no doubt begging for any energy after tucking her daughter to bed. A young toddler with enough energy to power a Guardian army, Elane has always found it quite odd that she used up a lot of her energy to annoy the Royal Seer. It was charming to see him get put off by a Mallory’s boundless curious aura, but mostly relieving in the sense that the Queen could get a moments rest and trust little Zelda would be alright.

Elane looked back inside through the half open door, and smiled at a bundled sleeping figure, surrounded by an army of stuffed animals. She then turned back and finally noticed Astor’s continued silence on the next refill.

She sighed. “Although I would be saddened to see you leave,” she began, “If a retirement would make you happy, Astor, I would loathe to do anything to stand in your way.”

He looked up at her, analyzing her body language and expression. She was genuine, of course, as she always was in these sorts of talks. Astor finally let himself exhale in peace, as he smiled and shook his head.

“Unfortunately I don’t think it would do me much good, anyways. Location won’t let me escape my own thoughts and visions.” He took a sip of his tea—a bit citrusy this evening, a hint of apple—and relaxed. “I’d imagine His Majesty would miss me dearly, and I simply wouldn’t want to leave him in distress.”

“Ha! Oh yes of course, Rhoam would be crying tears if you left us...” she replied, sarcastically. “Tears of deep, deep sorrow.”

Astor looked out into the night in silence again, not touching his cup.

“But I’ll tell you what Astor,” Elane began again. “If you ever receive that world dooming prediction, whatever may happen that may instigate your view of the deepest hells,” she raised her cup. “You come find me, and we’ll have a drink.”

He raised an eyebrow. “A drink? What sort of drink?”

She shrugged. “Whatever you like. Tea, wine, beer, water or juice if it’s your fancy. Whatever will keep your spirits high.”

Astor smirked, solemnly. “I don’t think you understand just how severe and dreadful certain predictions can be. When we say ‘all futures are possible,’ we do mean all possibilities.”

“And I understand, dear seer. I truly do.” She tilted her head as she kept her cup in the air. “But the way I see it, is that with divination or not, doom and hell come into people’s lives one way or the other. But it hasn’t really stopped the majority from loving their lives now, has it?” Her eyes twinkled like starlight. “Dearest Astor, if our destined doom is predicted one day, I command you to at least smile through our tea party.”

Quiet.

He finally sighed, the corners of his lips perking. His protests drowning in her expression.

“I suppose if you’re the one pouring, it’d be difficult to refuse.” He raised his cup and clinked it with hers.

She was dead eight days later.

With her death came the final factor. The final star.

“Your daughter is destined to fail us,” he said again. “The Calamity shall rise and consume us all, and she won’t stop it in time.”

Rhoam slammed his fists on the desk, but the seer did not flinch. “We’ll train her hard, we’ll start now, even! I’ll get those clerics from the temple to teach her the starting prayers!” he yelled.

“It won’t work.” Astor replied, simply. “Perhaps she might attain them down the line, but she most certainly won’t awaken her powers by Ganon’s rise. It’s over.”

“You told me we could do this!” Rhoam pointed a finger, accusingly. “You saw our prosperity, our victory!”

“That was what I initially saw, yes. But unfortunately we live in world where the Queen of Hyrule is dead, and thus the threads of our future weave accordingly.”

“You’re a liar!” Rhoam bellowed again. “You saw her death, saw our end and lied to us since the beginning, haven’t you?!!”

“Don’t you think that if I knew Elane would die, I would say something?! That I would give ample time for her to say goodbye to you and her daughter??” Astor finally raised his voice, met with equal silence. “I failed to correctly analyze our timeline the first time around, and for that I am sorry. But I can not control what pieces of the future fate allows me to see. It’s not an open novel for you to give me a bad book report grade on. It’s a museum of endless tapestries, of which I am task with analyzing one stroke at a time to identify which is woven to a singular man, and the fact that I have given you a complete enough answer now is a gift within itself, so don’t even try to accuse me forgery and lies.”

The two men clenched their jaws, staring angrily at each other.

Astor finally whispered. “Overtime I might gather more specifics, but overall—this is over.”

Rhoam balles his hand into a fist. “We’ll start a new schedule for Zelda first thing in the morning—“

“It won’t work, it’s futile—“

“We’ll make it work—“

“This is set in stone, this is the world you live in—“

“Well what if you’re wrong again?”

“I’m not.”

“But what if you are?”

“I’m. Not. I’ve read the signs again and again and again, in fact I’ve been reaching the same conclusions repeatedly for the last four weeks. It. Is set. In stone.” He tapped his finger on the wood with each syllable to emphasize. “Perhaps the futures of prosperity are accurate for the Rhoams and Mallorys that live in a different time, but unfortunately for us, we live in one where Elane is dead. This is our reality and you’re doing no good denying as such.”

Silence.

Rhoam made his way towards the door. “You’re a liar.” The seer scoffed. “You’re a liar and you don’t know what you’re saying! Borderline treason if I’m being honest! You’re pathetic, and a rotten fake—“

“If it pleases His Majesty to confirm the integrity of his humble subject,” Astor cut in, sarcastically, “It might be good to know that also I’ve predicted you won’t imprison me, or exile me, or execute me, given you’re still ever reliant on my uncontested skills for more personal matters. That, and you wish to try and keep me around to hopefully prove me wrong, in which you can then tell yourself you’d be in the right to truly punish me.” He stared the regent dead in the eyes. “But don’t worry, you won’t.”

Rhoam slammed the door shut as he stomped off.

That night, Astor has another dream. Or perhaps it was a vision, he wasn’t sure, as the details were so surreal and horrific and captivating that it would have surely been a blessing to chalk it up entirely to vivid imagination.

There were screams and the sound of rocks crumbling. Bones were cracking and monsters were squealing and shrieking. And be felt his arms burn, and he felt his soul drain, and he looked down to see his skin peeling into dark flakes, his muscles, sludge. And in the distance, a young woman with golden hair laughed at him, but her eyes were hollow and gold. And she laughed and laughed as his body was slowly broken to pieces, bones torn asunder, skin burned to smoldering malice, senses vivid until the final moment when he woke.

But the good thing about nightmares, was that...that was it. There was no where else to go. There was nothing left to offer. No more pain to fear.

It made sense of course. Of course, of course. He never went to the funeral, he never offered his sympathies. There was no longer anything to mourn, as he allowed himself to view the world in its true, disgusting form. The people were doomed, and the dead, well...perhaps they might have deserved it. Yes, that was the only way this all made sense, of course. He even stopped trying to warn other folk after a few too many dozen harsh rejections to his character. No, now in complete isolation and resignation of his path, there was nothing else that could possibly drag him back to—

“How do I die?” Zelda Mallory Hyrule asked, one day.

At first, he was confused, and he turned in his chair. “What?”

She was seven at the time, and it was truly an odd and concerning thing to be coming from a seven year old girl’s mouth. Or perhaps it wasn’t, given the circumstances.

“How do I die?” she said again. She was laying down on his worn carpet, fiddling with the frilled edge.

Was she truly that bored? Already out of other questions? Hmph, he had always warned her to stay away, as a seer’s office wasn’t really meant for childish entertainment. Yet still she always came and asked to hide away from her father, and, well...anything to spite that man...

“Why do you ask?” he finally replied. Had someone said something to her? A threat? He clenched his jaw. I swear, if that fool tried to force her powers by—

“You’re always going on about how I’m wasting my time with praying and stuff...but father says I still gotta to stop the Calamity or else we could all die.” She didn’t look up from the bits of carpet string she was playing with (and contemplating on popping in her mouth), “So I figured if you tell me how I die we can settle the debate for good!”

Astor just sighed. “Well, of course you d—“

He stopped himself, but not for the reasons a more put together person, might. Not because of the generally frowned upon action of telling a child how she dies, no, that was not exactly beyond him. No, Astor cut off his sentence simply because it had crossed his mind that—

“...I’m not entirely sure...” he whispered.

He suddenly stood. Walking towards the other end of his office, carefully stepping over the child. “E-Excuse me a moment.”

Why had he never considered this? Of course, he had seen the signs clearly enough, the visions, the stars. A girl cries over a corpse, a light vanishes in the night. Malice plagued the sky and dooms the day. But did the Calamity actually kill her? Does she drown in rubble and malice like the others? Slain by a demon or monster perhaps? Or if not, then, would that mean...?

The princess soon forgot about the question by the next day, and the next, and the next, and the next, and the next.

Astor spent nearly eight sleepless nights into finding an answer.

But he never truly did.

These things happened more times than one may think, when it came to predictions. Vagueness was commonplace, but specificities and straightforward answers were about as rare as a green sunset. Of course, he knew she would die, goddess blood or not, she lived the life of a mortal. But how? When? While it certainly wasn’t impossible to predict a person’s death, but whatever the circumstances of Mallory’s was made the process was infuriatingly impossible.

It was possible she would die of malice or suffocation under rubble, even circumstances where she dies at the Ganon’s hand himself. But then there were clear visions of her living, walking through a grassy field, ruins in the distance covered in leaves and moss, her turning and calling to a friend to keep up with her pace.

But no, nonono. She would die during the Calamity’s rise, that was the majority of what the futures offered to her were. That was the probable outcome.

But the factors and visions and signs and alignments were so fine and minuscule in difference, that Astor truly couldn’t a true statement, a true prediction, a true answer to the question. What timeline did we live in?

It taunted him.

Maybe it was better if the question was put to rest, did it even matter?

“Mallory?” he asked. “That’s a stupid name.”

“What?! No it’s not!” Elane laughed and shoved his shoulder. “Please, YOU’RE not one to talk.”

“Well as a victim of stupid first names, I think I’m qualified to speak accurately on the subject.”

“Aha! But it’s not technically a first name.” Elane tapped his head. “It’s a middle name, her first name would be ‘Zelda,’ of course.”

“Yes, and that is also a s—“

The queen shoved his shoulder into the wall before he even finished the sentence. “Oh would you shut up...”

He laughed, unconventionally carefree. Her Majesty’s happiness these days truly was contagious. Or perhaps that was a side effect of pregnancy? Did all expecting mother’s give off this aura?

“I think it’s a wonderful name.” Elane said. “Reminds me of a cute little duck, like a mallard!” She tucked her arms and flapped her elbows to imitate as such. “Quack, quack!”

“This is further adding to my argument actually”

“Hmph! Ok then Mr. Overseer of all names” She tapped a finger to his chest. “If it’s such a stupid name, then when she starts getting bullied for it around the castle, I shall expect you to take care of her in full.”

He scoffed. “Oh, I’ll be sure to do so. She’ll definitely need it.”

Elane pecked his head with a kiss.

“Good! I grant you my blessing lovingly tease her, as well. And I expect the best from you, Astor!”

His face suddenly warmed for some reason, and he couldn’t form words.

“What?”

“.....W...”

He was suddenly whack in the head with a rolled up piece of paper. Astor sprang awake from his desk. “...W...What...?”

“Morning, Mr. Astor!!” Princess Zelda-Mallory beamed. “And happy birthday!!! Sorry I woke you up early, but I needed to give this to you before the winter solstice festival later and—“

She continued to ramble on and on, but Astor simply opened the rolled up paper she had handed to him. It was simply filled with dozens and dozens, arguably hundreds, of hand drawn stars. In the corner was written, “You always look at the same stars so here’s some new ones!” in crude purple crayon. At the time, he failed to notice the accompanying note on the back that read “One for each year of how old you are!” Thankfully he was too busy looking through the different stars, with varying degrees of sparkles and smiley faces.

He finally looked back at the princess, who was still rambling on and on about her day, and her father’s day, and her newest stuffy dress, and her latest adventures with her stuffed toys, and—

“Why are you always here, Zelda?” Astor finally said. She stopped talking, looking at him, quizzically. “I mean...” he grumbled, “You know I don’t really like you, right?

“Eh, I don’t care. I think you’re neat!!” She held out her arms as she zoomed around his circular office. “Your room is so cool! And you got fun books!”

“Necromancy isn’t necessarily what I would consider ‘fun’ reading material—“

“Plus your outfits are cool, and you’re super smart, like my mom.”

He blinked.

“Plus, you’re the only one that’s not mean to me about my dumb powers. But really that’s just a chair on the top!”

“Do you mean cherry on top?”

“No! I meant chair! Watch me!! I’m gonna do a backflip off of this—“

“NO.” Astor immediately stood up, and snatched the girl off of the wooden chair. “NO. No backflips.” He set her down on the rug and pointed to a side of the room which held a broken table, stool, and a few old chairs—the victims of the princess’ previous acrobatic attempts.

She crossed her arms and stuck out her tongue. “You’re no fun!”

“I’m running out of furniture, is what I am.”

“But I’ll let this slide since it’s your birthday! Hmph.”

She started pulling at the loose threads of the carpet. “Don’t know why you had to stop my birthday backflip! Who cares if I get a little scratch?”

“I do—“

“YOU DO?!” Mallory was immediately up and clinging to his robes.

Astor sputtered, instinctively waving his arms to free himself from the child’s grip. But then he finally processed her question, and...

“I...” He looked at her starlight eyes. She had that stupid, naive grin that he always remembered from her mother. A stupid, pathetic, horrible, terrible, optimistic smile.

He finally scoffed. “I just can’t have you getting hurt on my watch, as otherwise, I’d probably be a dead man. That’s all.”

The princess lifted her hands in a “hooray!” fashion, and yelled the exclamation, accordingly. She then resumed her zipping and zooming around the room, much to Astor’s unexpected relief.

That night, he visited the question again.

Why? He didn’t really know.

The question wouldn’t offer him anything, it wouldn’t relieve him of anything—in fact it really did just the opposite. If he found that died miserably, it would be another scream in the nightmare, another nail in the comforting coffin of despair. But if he someone found that she lived, that there was a day after the Calamity, where even a child such as her could possibly prosper...

Having hope and seeing it fail anyway would probably be the most torturous of all.

Again, he had a dream, of a world tainted by blood and malice. But this time he was floating. He was floating and watching the end of it all.

Castle Town was nothing but ruins and ash, and no colors existed but red, black, and grey.

He couldn’t hear anything but a shrill hum in his ears, but he knew there was screaming. He looked to his hand, expecting to see malice or blackened skin, but instead found a strange floating device in his palm. It spin slowly, pink constellations drifting across its surface.

The hum in his ears turned into a groan, and then a whisper. It said something familiar, but he was sure he had never heard it before.

It is time.

The next night he had a dream of a girl standing in a green field, calling out to her friends somewhere behind her. She rested under the ruins of a collapsed pillar, and ate a homemade sandwich with a memorable smile.

Astor reached a conclusion.

In most futures, the girl dies horribly. He wrote in his journal. To be expected, I would assume the rise of the Calamity isn’t exactly easy to survive from.

But what I have discovered is a very specific set of circumstances that lead to a more favorable outcome, at least for her.

I have no way of knowing if it accurately depicts the comings of our time, or another. There are too many variables and specifics. Too long I have spent trying to discern our fate, but the probabilities and possibilities for doom are so interchangeable that it really go either way. The only truth I know is that she lives if—

He paused, tapping the dry quill to the desk again in thought. He dipped it once more.

I’ve decided that if I ever find myself in the scenario where I can solidify her a more favorable destiny, I will take it. I can only hope dare to alter my existing nightmare into something different, there’s really nothing left to lose, is there?

Astor leaned in his chair for a moment, savoring the silence of his office. He looked out the window and took in the night. The stars were gorgeous this evening.

Although if it fails I hope it kills me.

Call it arrogance, but I don’t think I can handle being wrong again.

The seer sighed, then suddenly flipped to the next blank page, angrily.

If I had never met her it would have been fine. If I had just minded my own damn business and continued to work in being resigned to our fate, at least then I could have—

There was a soft knock at his door.

He knew who it was.

Astor pinched the bridge of his nose as he opened it. “It’s past 2am, Princess, what could you possibly have to tell me?”

She looked down and shuffled her feet. “I had a nightmare...”

“Yes, people do have those sometimes.” He immediately closed the door.

Another knock.

After a moment, Astor opened it again. “Don’t you have guards outside your room, how did you sneak up here?”

“Secret tunnel!” She grinned, proudly, as she replied with a sort of sing-song tone.

“That’s nice.”

The door slammed shut again.

She knocked once more. There was the longest pause.

“FFFFFFine!” The world was out of his lips before he even fully swung open the door, and Mallory happily scrambled inside. “But no touching anything, I’m working.”

“It’s ok, I just wanna stay up all night and read your books!” She was already scrambling for the necromancy section, again.

Astor sighed, and went to slump back into his desk. The princess was already sprawled across the floor, distracting herself with another stack of wondrous, ill-recommended book. He didn’t really care.

I don’t really care. He wrote once again. I know there are futures where I dedicate myself to the Calamity, and she dies anyway. I know it doesn’t really matter, I know it’s hopeless to care, and that’s why I don’t.

He looked back at Zelda, he saw her slowly blink back her tiredness. He knew in a few hours or so, he’d have to drop her sleepy figure back off to those useless guards, and berate then for letting her wander off again, as it always was.

If I do this and it’s all for nothing, he began, I fear it will be worse than if I had just stood to the side and perished. It’s already doomed, and this pathetic, foolish optimism might cause me to turn this nightmare into something even worse.

He sighed, and the hours passed as he just sat with his thoughts.

Zelda was using and open book as a pillow.

Astor opened the door, and went to pick her up.

I’m not living through another nightmare. He thought, as he descended the stairs from the observatory. The girl’s breathing was steady as she wrapped an arm by his shoulder.

If it fails I hope it kills me before I see it. He repeated again.

I can’t handle being wrong again.