#rulers of ego

[averagekindergartenfan]

👁️‍🗨️` See you

Did another canvas painting after a year, feels good to move brush strokes physically again. Doesn't feel good though to find out MOLD GREW IN ONE OF MY PAINT JARS, I had to cut that shit off EUGH. Anyways jhive jhaugh jhove jhariah PLEASE LISTEN TO TRUST CEREMONY THE ALBUM‼️‼️‼️

[moneysyan]

Another fem ego I need to stop

[thessaliah]

→ Ordeal Call, clear chapters Craft Essences.

[dgrailwar]

Round 13, Day 5 - A Wish for the Future

It seemed like the majority of you were willing to side with the goddesses. The tensions seemed high for just a moment, before the Ancient God's anger seemed to subside briefly, an expression resembling gratitude slowly forming on her face.

' I thank you. This future… '

There wasn't a moment for the Mother of Monsters to fully indicate her own gratitude, as another voice rumbled.

' I'VE HEARD YOUR WISH… A WORLD DEVOID OF HUMANS AND MONSTERS… '

The ground rumbled.

A massive beam shot towards Echidna, aiming straight for the core of the 'Grail'.

"...!"

The Ancient God's eyes widened, her own mystic eyes flaring with immense magical energy in defense of the Mother of Monsters as her curse flared outward, meeting the sudden attack head on and the resulting clash causing the chamber to rumble. Even then, the Ancient God's attack didn't seem to be enough, as two more waves of energy spewed outward, the cascade of magical power slamming into her massive form and causing her to stumble back with an agonizing roar.

"He's awake…?"

' Typhon… that is not my Typhon… '

While it did look almost identical to the dragon that Avenger and his Masters had seen, the pulsating purple growth on its chest was new. A small shape circled around the behemoth, white wings fluttering as dark ooze began to drip from the beast. Each dark puddle formed into a creature, as the three-headed dragon let out a massive bellow, the ground shaking once more as the Servants stumbled, quickly trying to catch their balance.

' I WILL GRANT YOUR WISH. '

The voice, that seemed to rumble like thunder and quake the earth itself spoke again.

"Hrm. So, the moth carrying Pretender's curse still lives, and it has begun piloting the Father of Monsters instead. How… vexing."

"Wait, a Pretender-Typhon? Not to steal MoonCancer's thunder as the worrier, but Pretender was already an incredibly powerful dragon… hooking up a fragment of him to one of dragonkind's progenitors is both way too compatible, and way too dangerous."

"Wait… why'd he talk about the wish being 'a world without humans or monsters', rather than a 'world of humans and monsters'…? Do you think that whatever Pretender's 'infection' is, it's like… twisting wishes around?"

The Gunner shrugged, before focusing his gaze on the Ruler and the MoonCancer.

"So, seems like the dragon doesn't want our world either. Plan on joining its team, or are we putting grudges aside?"

"...At least your wish considers humanity. Even if I don't agree with the principle… I'm not going to abandon my Masters or mankind! We're fighting together! To the end!"

"As if I'd turn down the chance to fight a final boss like this! I mean, I'm still super scared, but I've got to show off my god's divine might, right?"

"Hahaha! Glad that we're in agreement, then!"

The Avenger boldly stepped forward, throwing his arm outward. His mana, flames of vengeance and disaster, flared violently around him as you felt his Spirit Origin expand and grow in might, pushing his manifestation to the absolute brink.

"Kuhahaha-- KUHAHAHAHAHAAA! Behold, the giant Typhon! Beyond mortal, beyond dragons, beyond gods! Birthed of the Earth and the Abyss, his might was not meant to be overcome by humanity, nor his own kind! However, this serves as our final trial! A world of human and monsterkind, this is the path that our Masters have chosen!"

"I am Avenger! My True Name is the Count of Monte Cristo! Let us burn our spirits to the limit, and push on to a bright future!"

One by one, you felt as your Servants began to push their own Saint Graphs to the brink. Magical energy, prana surging like rapid rivers as they prepared to throw everything they had against the massive godkiller.

"Masters, let's prepare for battle! Show me the faith in the world you want, and I will respond in kind! You have Jeanne d'Arc's banner, so let it fly in the name of victory!"

"C'est la dernière danse! One last performance before it ends! I hope you're prepared, Masters, because there's no time to get cold feet now!"

"Alright, here goes nothing… Shree Vakratunda Mahakaya Suryakoti Samaprabha… Nirvighnam Kuru Me Deva Sarva-Kaaryeshu Sarvada…!"

"Go! Kiheitai! Come forth, Proto-Arahabaki! We're sparing no expense, we're pushing with everything we've got, so let's put on a show that'll make even the gods tremble!"

The Gunner pointed his hand outward, the space on the ground being filled with a swath of armed and ready soldiers, his mana burning alongside the others as he leapt upwards, landing on the shoulder of a massive pseudo-divine machine.

"This is it… one more battle, and we'll have done it…!"

The massive form before them let out an echoing, terrifying roar.

The six remaining Servants readied their skills and weapons, preparing for the fight of their lives.

Behold, the ancient weapon that struck fear into the heart of the king of gods. A god-killer, world-shaker, he who could rip asunder the cosmos. Behold, the ancient ephemera that struck him down in the short time of its manifestation. A being that holds no desire for wishes, but only a desire to see one's hopes laid low and their hubris brought crashing down.

The Progenitor Dragon, corrupted by the Mors King's curse! Typhon-Ephemeros!

The Extra Class of Twisted Wishes, Pretender!

[vertigoartgore]

Doctor Doom by the talented comic book artist Tom Reilly (2024).

[bartsugsy]

That account on twitter with like 100k followers that's watching robron for the first time and their in early 2015 and there upset over robron have a fight cause they got together like 2 months before and based on the others ships on her account this might be their first soap so I am waiting to see the inevitable wtf is this when she gets to the lodge and your probably right that the lodge is gonna weave alot new people out of becoming fans because most people that are getting into it now don't watch soaps and try to apply real life morals to the characters (they all do shitty stuff some more that others) like the reason I love robert so much as a character is cause he is like all you could want from a character in a soap and I only know Ryan's version of him but I know the actor before him was also very loved but robert does some messed up stuff but later down the line his hearts in the right place when doing said messed up stuff (mostly) like finding liv, helping aaron through all the stuff with Graham and that whole storyline and alot it other stuff but if your not a fan of soaps and you don't understand how they work he would be a character that is really hated (which he does have a lot of haters on twitter alot of aaron fans don't like him - it's part of why I've come over to tumblr) but in the context of soap operas he's the best kind of character (honestly I'm also just a simp for most bisexual disasters it like one of my favourite things)

not to resurrect the worst parts of fandom, but back in the day, there was a very loud contingent of robert haters on tumblr (and im so serious, i still have “ratbert” in my muted words list looool I’M NEVER TAKING IT OUT) and they were both very loud, and very convinced that robron stans were the devil incarnate. i can only hope they’re all watching things they enjoy now instead. or at least contained to twitter jdjdjdjd

and i know there was apparently a twitter robron fandom back in the day but we had very little interaction beyond that one account that would come and steal all our best posts lol - i remember meeting a random twt user a few years back who loved robron and had no idea there a tumblr fandom even existed (which!! wild for the 2010s). i got the impression that the twt fandom was not quite as entrenched in soaps as we were.

now we’re in 2025 and yk what, i’m simply not afraid of gatekeeping robron - we’ve stared down the gates of hell and suffered through the consequences lmaooo, and there’s truly only so many times a person can make the “genre awareness is a foundational part of critically engaging with media” post that will inevitably get ignored.

but honestly if they’re all now vibing over on twitter, contained and separate from us, then that’s ideal. long may our peace over here be preserved (i bet it won’t be but. a person can dream.) you can be a certified hater of a story or the writing or a character beat or anything you want, but operating from the base misunderstanding of what a soap is is so tiresome and can trulyyy stay over on twitter

[melusineisthebestest]

We are finally at Extra Classes! All of them. The penultimate tier list in this series of videos!

[rowanthestrange]

You give people someone who looks like 10 again for five minutes and they immediately forget what they’ve learned about characters not always being objectively correct in their statements, even after we specifically ran the ‘maybe 10 was not in fact meant to be viewed uncritically’ module in late addition to our ten year extended media analysis doctor who doctorate program.

“But what if this time the author really is dumb and-”

*cracks ruler on the table*

Stop it.

[averagekindergartenfan]

📓` Mini art dump

Yep, 3 unfinished drawings, wowee. Saying a lot about my motivation and freetime LMFAOOO, I need to rest like 3 hours after school and after that I can really get my shit rockin. Anyways Ander has MAJOR opps, one is bc of bad experience with em (and they just suck in general), other is bc of gender envy womp womp.

[possessionisamyth]

anyone else still mad they changed carlos' height from 5'9" to 6'0"? just me? just me? it was stupid and unnecessary btw, absolutely pointless, im putting him in the dryer on a high heat setting to fix it

[just-some-troglodyte]

if you were put in-charge of a FATE reboot, what classes would you add/change/remove?

for me; Keep: Rider, Avenger, Shielder, Archer, Ruler, Caster, Assassin, Berserker, and Pretender Change: Foreigner's name to something like Outlander or Stranger (similar, but less icky meanings) Add: Tactician (heroes known for their strategical minds on the battlefield. examples being: Jeanne d'Arc, Julius Caesar, Jason of the Argonauts, etc), Brawler (heroes known for glorious melee combat. examples being: Mordred, Cu Chulainn, etc.) remove: lancer, saber, Alter Ego, and Moon Cancer

[spidergutz-writes]

*me to everyone who sends In requests to me*

[dgrailwar]

Round 4, Day 4 - ALL TEAMS (Event)

The Gunner sat on the shoulder of the massive mechanized entity, grinning.

"Ah… let's get comfortable. Participating Masters, are you here? Let's do a check in with the Servants-- shall we?"

The Ruler stood strong, summoning her banner as she blocked incoming fire and pushed back the advancing militia.

"They're on par with Servants! These aren't normal enemies!"

The Foreigner floated high in the air, bullets whizzing past him as he tumbled in the sky, panicked.

"There's a lot…! Too many… too many…!"

The MoonCancer sat perfectly still, watching as the armed warriors passed by.

"…Just ignore the statue… just ignore the statue…"

The Alter-Ego stabbed into the approaching onslaught, gritting her teeth as she found herself slightly overwhelmed.

"Damn it, I'll drain you all and turn you into EXP! You're fodder to me!"

The Pretender looked down, smiling ruefully as he shook his head.

"Uh-oh. Looks like we're fighting against a pretty focused fighting force. What to do…"

The Avenger burst forth, shrouded in flames as he began to rip through the enemies, even him finding their numbers overwhelming.

"Kuhahaha! Where is the summoned hero! Where is Gunner!?"

"Looks like they're trying to put up a fight. But I apologize, I haven't introduced myself. My True Name is Takasugi Shinsaku. However, as this is a war of Extra-Classes… the most interesting of the Servant Classes…"

"…Just call me the exemplary Gunner! I heard that you knocked out Faker, therefore in this bout, I shall be your seventh! So-- Let's make this fun! If you all work together, then everybody will have the best chance of victory. Still… glory is pretty tempting. So if you want to go for the head, as in myself, and leave everyone else to handle the dirty work… well, it might harm the others, but you'll feel like a winner! Oh- but if you're going to sell out your friends or enemies, make it interesting!"

"So, what's it gonna be? You gonna try to work together, or is greed gonna take over? This is still a competition with a winner, after all. Why mess up the chance? Let's see what happens."

Rules:

Try your best to balance the polls (there's a grace zone of 2% in either direction)! If you do so, everyone will be granted a boon! If you can't, then everyone will be hit by a punishment!

However… If you want to win on your own, it has to be definitive, as in: by greater than 7% of your closest competitor, and then only your team will get a major boon and the rest will be punished! But if you try to win but can't hit that metric, only you'll get smacked with a punishment!

Will you work together, or will you try to go for the glory on your own?

[starttraction]

"everything" by luluyam you are so incredibly vanellope to me. it's about the self-destruction and the self-aggrandizing, the desire to become bigger than the world yet doing so through the most horrible ways.

(cw for gore/human meat/brains and gooey sounds in the video btw!!)

[lady-luckk]

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ love twisted into madness

# pairings: yandere concubine harem x reader

# synopsis: you’re the unwilling ruler of a country with obsessive concubines who are trying to kill each other.

# warnings: this will contain dark themes such as obsession, possessiveness, drugging, and murder. if you are uncomfortable please block me. viewer discretion is advised. minors DNI.

# notes: this is a rewrite of my previous yandere concubine harem from my old blog, @screeching-bunny. reblogs, comments, and likes are appreciated!

they called you mad. insane, even. but you didn’t care. insanity was a refuge, a safe place in a world so deeply fractured. you hated your life with a burning passion, a disgust for the bloodline that bound you to a throne you never asked for. the family that birthed you, each one more power-hungry than the last, seemed like a curse. if given the chance, you would’ve chosen to be born to a pauper, far away from the twisted games of royalty.

but fate had no mercy.

once, you were nothing more than an afterthought, a shadow, the last person anyone would have expected to rule. the line to the throne stretched out ahead of you, and you were nowhere near it. but then the scheming mothers and the poisoning, the subtle betrayals and the bloody coups… one by one, your half-siblings, your full siblings—gone, each one murdered to clear the path. and just like that, the unwanted heir became the sole ruler.

you remember the day the crown was placed upon your head like it was yesterday. the moment the weight of it settled on your skull, the vultures swarmed. smiling, whispering, each noble hoping for a taste of your favor. you despised them all. they were like flies, buzzing around you, pretending to admire you while secretly planning to feast on your downfall. even your closest childhood friends, the ones you had trusted without question, turned on you. you couldn’t believe your eyes when your best friend, the one who had sworn loyalty to you, kneeled at your feet and asked for your love. then came another. and another. the shameless petitions for courtship were endless, their hunger unbearable.

love? what even was that? you had never known it. your mother had been slaughtered when you were young, and your father had always been a distant, cold figure. the only love you had ever felt was the strange, suffocating devotion of those who wanted to possess you, to claim you as their prize. people were a nuisance to you, nothing more than obstacles in your path. you’d long ago retreated into your own mind, where no one could hurt you, where the expectations of others didn’t matter. but that world, your sanctuary, was slipping away, one manipulative touch at a time.

when you turned twenty, your father, ever the schemer, presented your first concubine—a princess from a neighboring country. she was clingy, obsessive, a tiny spark in a world of insanity. she watched your every move, her eyes glued to you like a hawk, and whenever your gaze shifted, a storm brewed in her. her jealousy simmered beneath the surface, and with each new concubine, it grew worse.

your harem was a battlefield of madness, a twisted circus of egos and power plays. each day, one of your concubines would try to outdo the others—some showing off their skills, others pushing for attention in the most devious ways. the jealousy was sickening, feeding into a cycle of betrayal, lies, and violence. assassination attempts weren’t a rare occurrence; they were an expectation. each poisoned drink, each knife in the dark, was just another step in a game you never wanted to play.

you couldn’t escape them, not even for a moment. the madness of your harem was unrelenting. you could feel their eyes on you constantly, watching, waiting for their chance. every night was a war for your affection, a contest to see who would be the most adored, the most loved. the prize? a night in your bed. and as the days passed, their obsession grew darker, their need more desperate.

"your majesty, you’re the sun to my dark sky," they would whisper, their voices sickly sweet, desperate. "let me be your first spouse, your most cherished."

the words were the same, day after day, night after night. the promises of eternal loyalty, of adoration, of power. and you, trapped in a world where affection was a commodity, were left with no choice but to indulge them. it was a game, a power play that you didn’t want to be a part of, but you were the one they wanted. you were the crown, the prize, and they would destroy anything or anyone who stood between them and that title.

your chambers were no sanctuary. every time you entered, you could feel the undercurrent of madness. a concubine would always be there, waiting for you, dressed in provocative clothing, eyes filled with a strange hunger. they would make their move, their voices trembling with longing.

"please, your majesty," they would beg, their breath hot against your skin. "i need you. won’t you be mine tonight?"

but there was something more terrifying in their eyes, something darker. their love wasn’t just love—it was obsession. an obsession that twisted them, made them forget what was real, and pushed them to do things that were unspeakable. it was suffocating, it was frightening, and worst of all—it never stopped.

your harem was a breeding ground for monsters. not just the scheming foxes and the conniving lotuses, but the crazed, broken individuals who had lost all sense of reason. they would cry for your attention, manipulate your emotions, and twist their reality to get you to notice them. and the worst part? they knew how to play the game better than you ever could. each tear was a weapon, each sob a carefully crafted plea for power.

but you were not without your own tricks. you learned the game quickly—how to play with them, how to break their spirits before they could break yours. and every time one of them would try to manipulate you, you would feign sympathy, guiding them to your chambers, watching as they thought they’d won. but you knew the truth: they were all pawns, each one playing into your hands without realizing it.

as you led the newest concubine to your bed, her eyes glistening with hope and love, you could feel the fury of the others behind you. a smirk tugged at your lips as you heard their thoughts burning through the air.

"i’m going to make her regret this… i’ll make her suffer."

and so, the madness continued. each day, each night, a new battle, a new war for control. and you, the unwilling queen, stood at the center of it all, watching the chaos unfold with a cold, detached smile.

as the days bled into one another, your mind began to fracture under the weight of it all. the constant flurry of false affection, the endless manipulation, the dark undercurrents of obsession—everything blurred into a maddening fog. you had learned to expect the chaos, to accept that your life was one long, twisted game. but even now, they still found ways to surprise you.

you awoke every morning to the oppressive sound of whispers, the shuffle of feet, the flutter of silk against marble floors. your concubines, the ones you had chosen to stay, would surround you like shadowy figures, each one vying for attention, for a moment of your time, of your affection. and though you had learned to tune them out, to shut down the noise, it was a constant bombardment, a storm that never relented.

one evening, as you prepared for your nightly routine—slipping into the silk robes that once felt like a symbol of power but now merely served as another prison—you felt something new, something unsettling. the air was thick with a strange tension, an undercurrent of unspoken rivalry that seemed to be growing. at first, you tried to ignore it. another day, another ridiculous attempt to win your favor. but tonight, there was something different.

a new concubine, a girl so fresh and untouched by the games, had been added to your harem just days ago. she was beautiful, yes, but there was something off about her. her eyes—too calculating, too sharp—gave away more than she intended. at first, you had brushed it off as naivety, the innocence of someone still unfamiliar with the madness that consumed this place. but now, something in her gaze told you that she wasn’t as ignorant as the others.

you had given her a chance, of course. you always did, to see how they would behave, how far they would go to earn your favor. and tonight, she was ready to make her move.

you had just finished dressing, your fingers brushing against the cold metal of your crown, a crown that now felt more like a curse than a symbol of power. you turned to find her standing at the entrance of your chambers, her posture immaculate, her hands folded demurely in front of her. the soft glow of candlelight danced across her delicate features, casting shadows that seemed to distort her expression.

"your majesty," she whispered, her voice sweet but with an undertone of something far darker. "i need to speak with you. it’s important."

there was a brief flicker of something in her eyes—a glimmer of certainty, a challenge, perhaps. your gaze narrowed, but you motioned for her to come closer. the others were watching from the shadows, as they always did, but this time, you didn’t care. you were tired of the games, tired of pretending that this wasn’t the reality you had to face every day.

she stepped forward, her heels clicking softly against the marble floor, each step deliberate, calculated. when she reached you, she knelt—something you hadn’t expected. most of them, even after all these years, still tried to assert their superiority, to play the role of the dutiful concubine. but not her. she was different.

"your majesty," she began, her eyes never leaving yours, "i would die for you. but i have a question."

you raised an eyebrow, intrigued, but gave no response. you knew that any movement could give her more power, more ground to stand on, so you remained still, letting her feel the weight of your silence. it was a game you had perfected long ago—let them speak, let them reveal their desires, their fears. and then, you would tear them apart with a single word.

"what would you do," she asked, her voice trembling now, just slightly, "if i told you that the one who truly controls you… is me?"

the words hit you like a thunderclap. at first, you thought it was a joke, some petty game she was playing to test her limits, to see how far she could push. but the look in her eyes was dead serious. she wasn’t playing. she wasn’t afraid of you. she was looking right into the abyss, daring you to blink. then it hit you. you had consumed an aphrodisiac.

you took a step forward, your pulse quickening. the room seemed to close in on you, the flickering candlelight casting eerie shadows on the walls. you could hear the others shifting outside, the sound of their breathing rising in the stillness of the night. your body felt like it was on fire. but you didn’t care.

this wasn’t about them. this wasn’t about the power struggles that had consumed your life for so long. this was about her. this was about the fact that she had just declared war without even realizing it.

for the first time in years, you felt a stir of something in your chest. it wasn’t love—god, no. but it was something else. something darker. something that recognized the challenge for what it was.

you leaned down, your lips brushing her ear as you whispered, "try me."

her breath hitched, but she held her ground. she was daring you. she was throwing down the gauntlet, expecting you to crumble, to prove her right. but you wouldn’t. no. you had been molded by this life of manipulation, betrayal, and blood. you had been raised on a diet of lies, and now, you were the one who made them.

as you pulled away, you locked eyes with her, a wicked smile curving your lips. "you think you control me?" you said softly, letting the words sink in. "you’re just another pawn in this game. and if you think for one second you can win… well, let’s see how long you last."

she stiffened at the threat, but she didn’t back down. there was something maddeningly beautiful about her defiance. and that, you realized, was the problem. she wasn’t like the others. she was the spark that could set everything ablaze.

and yet, there was a part of you that admired it. she was a mirror to your madness, a reflection of your own broken mind. she wasn’t afraid to burn everything down, to turn the world upside down.

but what she didn’t understand was that the game wasn’t just about power. it was about survival. and in this palace, there could only be one survivor.

you guided her to your bedchamber, her hand trembling with excitement slightly in yours. but as you crossed the threshold, the game began. you could hear the others following you, footsteps growing louder, the silent battle already starting. you could feel the fury and the desire building, the relentless drive to claim what was yours.

as you turned to face her, her eyes gleaming with anticipation, you realized one thing: this would be the last time you let someone else think they had control. you would own this game, and anyone who thought they could take that from you would be burned in the flames of their own ambition.

you were the king of this madness. and in the end, they would all bow to you, or they would burn.

among the many concubines, there was one who stood out—not for his looks or his talents, but for his unnerving obsession with you. zhang wei, a general’s son from a distant province, had initially seemed like just another handsome face vying for your favor. but over time, something darker began to reveal itself beneath his polished exterior. he didn’t chase you like the others, with desperate displays of affection or teary eyes. no, his devotion was quiet, almost suffocating in its intensity.

zhang wei would watch you from the corners of rooms, his gaze never wavering, never blinking. he’d smile when you spoke to him, but it wasn’t a smile born of genuine warmth—it was something colder, something more dangerous. his words were always careful, calculated, as if he were speaking to a deity, not a mere mortal. every conversation felt like a subtle attempt to claim you, his eyes gleaming with an obsession that went far beyond admiration. and the longer you ignored him, the more intense that obsession became.

one evening, long after the others had retreated to their chambers, zhang wei stayed behind, his posture stiff with a quiet desperation that made your skin crawl. he approached you slowly, eyes wide, almost reverent, but the hunger beneath the surface was unmistakable. when he spoke, his voice shook with a mixture of longing and madness.

"your majesty," he said, his words nearly a whisper, as though confessing a secret. "i have waited so long, watched from the shadows, and now… i cannot stand it any longer. i would do anything for you, my love. let me be your first husband. i will prove my loyalty, my devotion. i would die for you."

his voice wavered with desperation, as though his very survival depended on your acceptance. it wasn’t love, not in the way most would understand. it was a twisted devotion, a need to possess you, to claim you as his, to make you his entire world.

the more you rejected him, the deeper his obsession grew. zhang wei followed you everywhere—his eyes constantly on you, his voice whispering in the hallways. it didn’t matter what you did to distance yourself; he was there, waiting, always lingering just out of sight. every time you turned a corner, you could feel his presence, his eyes on your back, never faltering.

"your majesty," he would say, his voice soft but urgent, "you are everything to me. no one else matters. no one but you."

his devotion was not a simple desire to be loved—it was a suffocating obsession, one that threatened to swallow you whole. you could insult him, ignore him, even tell him to leave, but it never mattered. zhang wei would still look at you with those maddeningly adoring eyes, his love unshaken, unwavering.

the others in your harem noticed, of course. they saw the way zhang wei hovered near you, his possessive gaze never leaving your side, and they whispered in corners. his presence was unsettling to them, but they knew better than to challenge him directly. his obsession had become so profound that he no longer sought your affection. he sought only to be near you, to breathe the same air, to be the one closest to you, even if you never returned his feelings.

he was no longer a mere concubine. zhang wei was something far worse. he was a predator, driven by a singular, dangerous desire: to make you his, at any cost. and no matter how much you pushed him away, no matter how many times you rejected his advances, you could feel his grip tightening, his obsession growing darker with each passing day. there was no escaping zhang wei. and the thought of what he might do next—should you finally push him too far—left a cold, unsettling shiver running down your spine.

zhang wei’s obsession with you went beyond his twisted devotion to you. as his fixation deepened, so too did his sense of entitlement. he began to view every other concubine not as rivals, but as obstacles standing in the way of what he believed was rightfully his: your undivided attention, your affection, your love. he didn’t just want you; he needed to eliminate anyone who dared to take even a fraction of what he desired.

it started subtly at first. zhang wei would approach his rivals with a false politeness, his smile sharp, his words dripping with honeyed charm. he would compliment them, flatter them, even offer gifts—tokens of his ‘respect.’ but there was always something in his eyes, something dark lurking beneath that calm exterior, that made every exchange feel like a thinly veiled threat. the others, blissfully unaware at first, accepted his advances, thinking they could win his favor with kindness. they didn’t know that with each word, each token of ‘affection,’ zhang wei was marking them as targets in his twisted game.

one of the first to fall was mei-ling, a young princess known for her beauty and her melodic voice. zhang wei, in one of his more insidious moments, invited her to his private quarters under the guise of a ‘friendly conversation.’ he made her feel special, important—like she was the only one who truly mattered in his world. he listened to her sing, praised her endlessly, and made her believe that she was the one he desired above all else. but when she least expected it, he cornered her, locking the door behind them. his tone shifted, became harsh, and he told her that she would never win his or your favor.

"you’re just a pretty face, mei-ling. but that's all you’ll ever be." his grip tightened on her wrist as he whispered, "if you ever think you could take my place, you’re mistaken."

the next day, mei-ling fell ill—deathly ill. the court physicians couldn’t find any explanation, and her voice, once so sweet and full of life, was silenced forever. it was a slow, agonizing process. by the time anyone realized what had happened, it was far too late. zhang wei’s smile remained ever-present as he continued to express sorrow for her passing, his eyes glinting with satisfaction. mei-ling had simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time.

but the elimination of mei-ling was only the beginning.

lian was next, a fiery and bold concubine who had dared to openly challenge zhang wei's claim on your attention. lian had never been one to back down, and unlike the others, she didn’t fear confrontation. but that was precisely what made her dangerous to him. one evening, in the middle of a gathering, zhang wei calmly approached her, his eyes betraying nothing of his inner rage.

"don’t you understand, lian?" he asked, voice low but full of an unnerving calm. "do you really think you can win our majesty’s affection? you’re nothing more than a distraction to them, a fleeting thing. i’m the one who will stand beside him. i’m the one who will be at their side forever."

lian, always quick with a sharp tongue, didn’t back down. she laughed, dismissing him as a fool. that night, zhang wei followed her back to her chambers, knowing she would be alone. what happened there was a mystery—no one truly knew what transpired behind those doors, but when lian was found the next morning, her throat had been slit cleanly. the bloodstains on her sheets painted a chilling picture. her body had been posed, her eyes wide with fear, and the note beside her read: “you were never meant to win.”

the harem grew uneasy, whispers spreading like wildfire. but none of them dared speak openly of what they suspected. zhang wei had become a silent terror, a looming presence that only tightened his grip the more you pushed him away. his love for you had mutated into something sickening—no longer about desire, but about possession. he wasn’t just fighting for your affection; he was fighting to destroy anyone who stood between him and his claim over you.

your harem had become a twisted reflection of the palace itself—a gilded cage, beautiful and suffocating, where the concubines were both trophies and pawns. each one of them, whether driven by love, ambition, or survival, wore a mask of devotion, but beneath it, desperation simmered. there were the ones who had learned to play the game—silent, calculating, waiting for their moment to strike or be struck down. the others were the broken ones, their eyes hollow from endless manipulation, their spirits crushed beneath the weight of constant competition and violence. in this toxic arena, loyalty was a currency that could be bought and sold, but trust was a concept that had long since been abandoned.

every whisper, every glance, every touch was laced with suspicion and jealousy. some sought power, others affection, but all were bound by the same ruthless need to survive. and then there were those who, like zhang wei, had descended into madness, their love twisted into obsession, their hearts warped by a desire to control, to own. none of them were truly free, not in this place, not while you, the center of their world, remained unreachable, a god they could never fully possess. the harem, a symbol of wealth and power, had become their prison, and each day was a fight for dominance, a battle where only the strongest would remain.

[imagineastrology]

astro notes #partidontknow 

‧̍̊˙˚˙ᵕ꒳ᵕ˙˚˙ Chiron-Mercury aspects may have issues/strengths related to their sense perceptions (Dependant upon the aspects) 

‧̍̊˙˚˙ᵕ꒳ᵕ˙˚˙ If you Saturn aspecting planets in the first house, be careful of your skin and bone health (also breath too)

‧̍̊˙˚˙ᵕ꒳ᵕ˙˚˙ No matter what they go through, Aries Suns will always be self-sufficient and act in their self-interest

‧̍̊˙˚˙ᵕ꒳ᵕ˙˚˙ Be aware of any Mars transits (especially with harsh aspects like square or opposition) - Mars rules guns and gunshot wounds - basically crimes of violence

‧̍̊˙˚˙ᵕ꒳ᵕ˙˚˙ Aries/Mars in the 6th House may suffer from many headaches

‧̍̊˙˚˙ᵕ꒳ᵕ˙˚˙ If you have Neptune in the 11th House, it is important for you to watch out for any ‘actors’ in group dynamics. Alternatively, you may feel as though you have to put on an act in group settings…

‧̍̊˙˚˙ᵕ꒳ᵕ˙˚˙ Venus in 8th House natives have a TALENT for photography - they know how to reflect the emotions of an event, not make themselves too obvious - and have a gift for finding true connections with people. Extraordinary observers.

‧̍̊˙˚˙ᵕ꒳ᵕ˙˚˙ If you have an unaspected Mercury in your chart - be aware that the house or sign traits to Mercury may be a blindspot for you - unaspected planets can, more often than not, be at the other ends of extremity. 

‧̍̊˙˚˙ᵕ꒳ᵕ˙˚˙ If you live in dishonesty and hate reality - do not hang around people with prominent Lilith placements (Mainly Lilith on the Angles - 1st, 4th, 7th, and 10th). They are EGO busters and are merciless in their quest for total honesty 

‧̍̊˙˚˙ᵕ꒳ᵕ˙˚˙ Asteroid Nessus (7066) is the ‘wounded trickster’ - learning where this asteroid is in your chart is important as some astrologers note that Nessus can be cruel, sadistic, and have a weakened respect for boundaries. 

‧̍̊˙˚˙ᵕ꒳ᵕ˙˚˙ Unaspected Sun people may not realise they can be overbearing to other people.

‧̍̊˙˚˙ᵕ꒳ᵕ˙˚˙ Your ascendant sign (also the chart ruler, 1st house, and any aspects to your 1st house) are qualities you are most confident in sharing with the world. These qualities are your ‘armour’ and you wear this armour proudly!

‧̍̊˙˚˙ᵕ꒳ᵕ˙˚˙ Venus or Neptune in aspect to Neptune can create melodic and hypnotising talking or singing voices - like a mermaid’s siren.

‧̍̊˙˚˙ᵕ꒳ᵕ˙˚˙ Any placements pertaining to the 4th House can show how your mother/father was experienced by you.