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jjwolves · 9 days ago

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SOFTLOCK

What: ENA the Worker X Reader Where You Gotta Wait

Who: ENA the Worker from ENA Dream BBQ (By Joel G)

How Much: ~1,000 Words, ~5 mins

Credits: Image Banner -> Joel G

Warnings: Slightly Suggestive Content (Near End)

Important clients. Potential revenue streams. Networking event. All of these words and more were ENA's attempts at explaining why this next job was so important. One descriptor would have done just fine, but several descriptions made out of her corporate prose make comprehending this job impossible. It's not rare whatsoever that ENA understands where she's going and enthusiastically pulls you along while you're left in the dark. You just wish that she had mentioned how long of a wait this job was going to be before dragging you there. Not that she could have known.

You two meet with the receptionist, a skeleton who uses an x-ray machine to appear as a ghost which can talk and give actual direction. You roll with it. She directs the two of you to the Queast Stairway and, with a sinister tone, suggests that you should bring a crossword puzzle. It's in one ear and out the other with ENA; she's set on attending this whatever-who-cares, and when you suggest that maybe there's something a tad ominous about the receptionist's directions, she lets you know exactly what she's thinking about that. "It's just garbled nonsense from an unhappy customer. Is she our mama bird?! No, she's not! So she can cram it!" ENA clears her throat as she continues stringing you along. "Now, back to our regularly scheduled presentation." Eventually, you two make it to a small room, like an elevator. Your girlthing has already stepped inside, so you may as well bite the bullet and follow her. A mistake in retrospect, perhaps, once you see the metal doors slide shut. "How jarring." A small square sign flips its numbers down and reveals a worrying message: 14 HOURS UNTIL RELEASE. You really hope that isn't saying what you think it's saying, because it sounds like you need to stay in this small room for 14 hours straight. You ask ENA if she knew about this. "Patience is a virtue when you're trying to build a business, but I wouldn't test your entrepreneurship in such a way, love."

You decide to begin draining the chronological bathtub by asking about the other ways that one can "test your entrepreneurship". "Hmm. Well, it's common belief that a delicious handshake is the key needed to unlock the door of a fulfilling career. But I don't imagine you have a blender nor enough hands to make one." You test your might by shaking ENA's hand gently. It's so squishy and warm. And it's getting warmer. You're not sure you want to let go. "Aha, everything the businessman's hand touches turns to gold, but it seems I've already struck it." You close your eyes and smile as ENA squeezes your hand affectionately. Suddenly, you get goosebumps on your skin as she traces thin white lines on your arm with her colder, sharper hand. You shudder. "I know that it's inappropriate to promote you to honorary clipboard, but I just wanted to see if I could make a note with you. I figure it's as good a time as any now that we have the room to ourselves." Yeah, you two had the room to yourselves, all right. You had it for a while.

You sit next to ENA in the corner of the room, singing songs to eachother. Well, commercial jingles, actually. You admit that you've always liked that little ditty that played whenever a spatial translation booth powered on and turned someone flat: "Time to flat-enize, time to crawl on the walls!" "A choice advertisement. I look forward to having one on my own. It'll just... blare out everywhere the common consumer exists. The air will be charged with business." You ask her why you don't make her own right now. "What? Me? I don't have the forms for that. I'm just a working entity." Patiently, you explain that you don't need forms just to come up with a song. Publishing might be different. Maybe she'd like it if you both collaborated on it. ENA's expression stays the same most of the time, but right now a subtle shine in her eyes tells you that you've touched something deep with your suggestion. She takes to nervously fiddling with her cap's brim. "You really want to synthesize a jingle? With me?" Yes. And it should be about triangles, because they are the most stable shape. ENA is energized by the suggestion and begins clapping. "Oh! Oh! Yes, yes they are! Maybe something like... 'We have three angles; chocolates aren't one!'" You give her a round of applause and tell her that it's perfect, to which she snaps a pale head to you. "You say that like you don't want to add something. I thought we had something mutual, dammit!" ENA shoves her megaphone into your hands. "This is a jingle of love, and your ass has to contribute or step out of the boardroom!" It's a lot of pressure, but you add on 'Don't point at me, point at the sun!' because it rhymes and you think it's fun-sounding. Very seriously and with murderous eyes, ENA says, "Good, because if you didn't, I'd be doubting your role at this company! Now let's skip the singing and get to kissing; we're halfway there already."

Several animated raincoats stand idly outside of the Waiting Room doors, snickering conspiratorially amongst themselves. "Do you think they know that the timer is completely arbitrary? I bet they think they really have to stand there for an hour." "I know, and not just that, but they just accept it right away. Chumps!" "We've had our fun. One hour is enough torture, I think. Let's let the suckers out already." One of the raincoats switches a lever. They collectively startle when the doors slide open to reveal ENA straddling you in the middle of a furious makeout session. A pale hand grips the back of your hair while you passionately explore her skin and clutch at her sides, a strap falling haphazardly over her shoulder, hat long abandoned in the corner. "CLOSE IT, CLOSE IT! AW, DISGUSTING!" The raincoats flip the switch again. "You know what, leave them in there for the full 14 hours. I need to go drink some rainwater to forget what I just saw."

#ena x reader #ena fandom #ena dream bbq #ena dream bbq x reader #ena the worker #ena the worker x reader #white and red ena #imagine blog #imagines #x reader #writeblogging #writers on tumblr #writeblr #ena headcanon #ena fanfic #dream bbq ena

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feroluce · 8 months ago

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Oh my gosh the way the Pop-Up Shop event ended and what it hinted at that's going on rn, and what it might imply about what's in store for the next time we see Sampo, I'm so excited AAAAAAA

Because it seems it really IS our Sampo, and whereas before I was absolutely delighted by the thought that he was possibly getting fucked with by some outside influence, and that was why he was saying such strange things... There's nothing quite like that going on here. There's no memetic virus messing with his head. There's no imposter, no possession, no nothing.

Just Sampo, and the ominous, all-consuming dread that hangs over his head like a guillotine, as he willingly walks right into what he is sure is a trap. ♡

Because this event was weird right off the bat, yeah? Sampo invites us in on a business deal that won't make him any money? The hell???

And I was just waiting on pins and needles for it to make sense, and oh, I was not disappointed at all. Because I've got a nice meta post about it over here, but Sampo actually DOESN'T make a lot of money most of the time- but he does always get something out of his dealings. He works for favors and good will and networking, but never for nothing. And it was the same here!

Sampo didn't make any money with this little business venture because that wasn't what he needed from it. That was never his goal to begin with. He just needed something entertaining.

Sampo has the key to get into the tavern's basement where Sparkle has been keeping his mask for him, but he still needs to be let into the front door of the tavern itself. The fun stories he got from this event were his entry fee. He leaves at the end because he's probably already on his way to Epsilon, where the World's End Tavern should be.

So that explains part of what was so strange this event. It's the rest of his ooc tendencies that have me like foaming at the mouth though because AAAAAAAAAA

There's long been hints of...some? kind of strain between Sampo and the rest of the Masked Fools. Like it starts all the way back in Belobog's main quest with the big infamous fourth-wall breaking sequence, where Sampo talks some shit.

And it continues in the Aetherium Wars event, where we finally get the confirmation that Sampo is a Masked Fool and even get to see him interact with Giovanni, one of his brethren! And where Sampo talks more shit. He also leaves the trailblazer a warning against Sparkle, who they hadn't met yet, and probably the Masked Fools in general.

And for some strange reason, it seems to be popular fanon that Sampo like. Talks a lot of shit? Or is rude in general? Like I feel like I see a lot of jokes about if Hook says a cuss word, it was probably his fault. But Sampo is actually pretty polite with everyone. I think the only time we really see him be harsh is when he has to set some hard boundaries in the museum event. Otherwise, he conducts himself like a model friendly businessman. Like he IS super shady and slimy, but he's still polite about it. I'm pretty sure the only time he actually talks any shit, and so bluntly, is about the Masked Fools or Epsilon as a whole. He really seems to have some sort of beef with them.

There's also his hilarious relationship with Sparkle, which I'm including for consideration because we don't know how common people like her are in the Masked Fools, so she might represent how Sampo interacts with a lot of them. ...But I'm pretty sure Sampo's grudge with her runs deeper than that anyway jdksajfdkljas

She's so funny I hope she fucks with him more FJDKSJAKD

Anyway, the point is, Sampo doesn't seem to see eye-to-eye with a lot of the rest of Aha's followers. And it was never hinted at before the pop-up shop event, but now I'm wondering if it might be like. An actual dangerous sort of situation.

Because during those brief packaging sequences, you get some. Pretty wild text dropped on you. There was actually a really cool explanation for it by another user already! But basically, all of the phrases are more fourth-wall breakage. They're mostly in-game achievements...except for one.

"This must be a trap create"

We never get to see the rest of the phrase. Just "This must be a trap create."

That is the only one we don't have an explanation for yet, at least as far as I know.

AN EDIT: Thank you to @/kittaykattz for this one, because it looks like someone DID find the source of this line. Unfortunately, it only came up in my search after I looked for the full phrase. I couldn't find it on the wiki before orz And yet this somehow does NOT make it any less ominous ajfdklsjkl The full phrase is "This must be a trap created by a Masked Fool!" and it comes from another in-game achievement, "Boxes and Ladders." Which is really cool, because I had figured the last line must be something from Penacony, since it was the only area not represented so far. So in that way, it fits perfectly with the rest of the text. Now we have one achievement from every area of the game, which fits with the theme that Sampo has been following the Astral Express, the trailblazer specifically. It's the way that it doesn't fit that's the weird part though. Because the rest of the lines that come from in-game achievements are all titles; that's why they were so much easier to find. For some reason, Hoyo saw fit to single this one out. They didn't use a title. They specifically chose the line about falling into a trap set by a Masked Fool, a trap with seemingly no way out, where one's only choice is to take a leap of faith and pray to make it out ok in the end.

Love that. Absolutely love that. That's so fucking tasty, I will be daydreaming for days on end now about Sampo finding himself in a horrible situation with no way out where all he can do is make a desperate attempt and pray to whatever might listen (probably not Aha fjaksljdk) that he'll survive it WHEEEEEE

Because Sampo talks so strangely throughout the whole event, but it gets worse day by day, morose and morbid and dreading and sometimes even almost like he's warning the trailblazer against something about to happen.

I've already lovingly discussed it in an analysis about Sampo's name (alias included) but like. There certainly are some fun connections there. The Sampo of myth was smashed and lost to the sea. Poisson was flooded. Brueghel died suddenly and left a final painting of a storm at sea unfinished.

The Masked Fools are referred to with imagery of water and the sea. And frequently so.

And so I do wonder what Sampo knows, and what he's expecting to happen when he gets to that tavern at the end of the world. If maybe he thinks he's walking right into a trap, and is doing it willingly, doing it anyway, because, well.

Belobog is on the line.

And Sampo has already proven he seems so ready to do whatever it takes to protect it.

#DEATH FLAGS AHOY WOOHOO #I HOPE WE GET TO SEE HIM GET FUCKED UP SO BAD YAY #honkai star rail #honkai star rail sampo #hsr sampo #hsr #sampo koski

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cerealiii · 1 year ago

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Screwtio brain rot in which Screwllum creates a simulated universe to house the memories of his life with one Veritas Ratio. For inorganic creatures the definition of "life" is perhaps one of their most defining struggles as some would question if they are in fact even alive, but what of Death? Does death mean the same thing to the inorganic as it does to short lived organic life?

I haven't seen much exploration of the inevitability of Ratio's passing. I don't think either would be foolish enough to walk the path of abundance. I think Veritas would be very pragmatic about his death, in fact I think he'd be the one to gift himself and his memories to Screwllum for...science (and maybe a bit out of love).

Side brain rot: simulated Ratio escapes from SU as a new “life”, a ghost in the shell that jumps between programs and networks and appears before Screwllum when he least expects it -- on an errant screen, a voice in the radio, a whisper in his ear... It's simply Aha fucking with Nous, to take one of their path striders, one devout but ignored by their aeon and setting them free along another path. Simulated Ratio knows exactly what he and how he was created...

--- Cerealiii

(back dated to match twitter) 240216

#honkai star rail #screwllum #dr ratio #screwtio #The Penacony genius society side quest gave me too many brain worms.

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kurishiri · 7 months ago

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95K ┊ Dead or Love —Alfons Sylvatica—

꒰ ִ ֺ ⊹ @ notice ⊹ ֺ ִ ꒱ this translation may not be 100% accurate or contain creative liberties due to characterization or narrative flow purposes. if you enjoy, please consider reblogging, but don’t repost these or claim these as your own!

— the alfons 95k bonus story for the dead or love event, or as it is known in en, wreck the halls. please note it is written entirely in his p.o.v.! also, i recommend for the full enjoyment, that you go through at least one read through of his main story.

— cw: nudity in a (semi-)public place, topic of death, awkwardly translated smut that i will put in between dividers.

—— Alfons’ POV ——

—— Hallway ——

Kate: Alfons, w-what is that...

Everyone during Christmas was in a festive mood at its finest.

And on the very same day one sang fa-la-la for, [1]

I happened upon Kate in the hallway, with a gaze that could hurt.

And — while it does so pain me to say — such a gaze was not directed at me, but rather on the ticking bomb bound to my neck.

Alfons: This, you ask? Why, it’s none other than the bomb accessory that’s been the hot topic among the kids of London.

A: Ah— would you care for one, too, Kate? I must say its weight does ever so slightly hold me back though.

Kate: ...A bomb? From a mission...?

Alfons: Dear me, brushing me off so splendidly, I see. And to your lover too, how very cruel!

Kate: Stop beating around the bush and give me an answer!

(There it is, it’s this face of hers. The one that means she has no intention of backing down.)

Alfons: Last night, while playing around, I dozed off for but a moment. And then, it was around that time...

A: One can never be too careful.

Kate: Just who did this to you...

Alfons: Indeed, whoever could it be? Not even my ten fingers and ten toes could count the amount of people who hold some grudge against me.

—— Port (flashback ——

In all truthfulness, this dangerous ticking bomb was put on me during a mission.

Right in the middle of the mission to take down an organization that was the root of a human trafficking network, I voluntarily put it on my neck.

That was the necessary resort to create an opening on the other side, after all.

And due to my fine play as a sacrificial role, the mission was a smashing success, and the organization was soundly crushed.

But, this ticking bomb alone would not come off, and alas nothing could be done. And that was the long and short of it.

—— Hallway ——

(I did know that if Kate were to lay her eyes on me in this state, she would be worried, but...)

I should count my blessings, as Kate did not accompany us on the mission last night,

and with that being the case, I tried to avoid Kate until the bomb was defused, spending time without seeing her...

(Aww, Kate, you unfortunate soul, you.)

(Or, wait, perhaps this may be a good thing?)

Kate: So, how do we defuse it? Though seeing as you still have it on you, I guess that means you don’t know...

Alfons: Aha, exactly, what sharp deduction skills you have, Kate! We don’t know how to remove this. That being said...

A: William and Victor, simply unable to idle themselves away, are currently expending their blood, sweat, and tears to find a way to defuse the bomb. So you can rest easy.

Kate: William and Victor...?

Alfons: Indeed, they will be back in two hours. So until then, I’ve been ordered to stay in the premises.

Or so I say, but even if I were to give Kate a seed of reassurance, her expression wouldn’t let up.

And so, before Kate burst into tears, I tried to give one or two poor jokes,

when all of a sudden, Kate raised her head.

Kate: You’re the one in this worrying situation, and yet here I am fussing over it... I’m sorry.

(Well, I’ll be...) (O_O)

Alfons: I digress, if your lover were on the verge of death and you were beaming like a sunshine you would probably be suspected of being an insurance murderer.

Kate: Until William and Victor return, I’ll stay by your side.

K: If it means your worry will fade even a little bit, I’ll do any- and everything, after all!

Alfons: ...What did you say just now?

Kate: Huh? Um... ‘until the two of them return, I’ll stay by your side’?

Alfons: No no, a little after that.

Kate: ‘If it means your worry will fade even a little bit, I’ll do any- and everything’?

Alfons: Bull’s eye.

A: Allow me to indulge in those very words then.

Kate: Wha...?

—— Kitchen ——

Kate: W-w-wha...

Alfons: ‘Wha’?

Kate: What in the world is this...!

Alfons: Goodness, how you tease me, Kate, to make me spell it all out... it’s an apron, of course. A n-u-d-e one [2], that is.

Kate: I know that already! But why this revealing outfit...

Alfons: ...You see, it has been a dream of mine since I was a child to see one wearing a nude apron up close.

A: To think this long-time dream of mine would be fulfilled like this on this very day, truly, life is worth living.

Kate: ...I... guess so. It’s the first I heard of that.

K: So, what were you planning, having me in this...?

Alfons: The kitchen has been reserved, and before me is a naughty Kate in a nude apron.

A: I daresay there’s hardly any need to ask, no?

Kate: ...You mean...

Alfons: Of course, we’re making sweets.

Kate: .........what?

Alfons: Truth be told, a tad prior to this, I had Victor tell me the recipe of his special scones...

A: And wanting to try it someday, I was simply waiting for the right timing.

Kate: Ah— I see now... Then, you could have just said so...

Alfons: Oh, what’s this now? Did you perhaps catch some... ideas on what we were going to be doing?

Kate: H-hardly. Anyways, enough of that, let’s hurry and make some sweets. What should we start with first?

Alfons: Hehe, alright, I hear you.

(As always, she’s quite innocent and darling, isn’t she.)

And so, still in the naughty get-up, Kate started to earnestly make the scones.

Alfons: Use your fingertips to knead the flour and butter. Yes, yes, just like that, like when I’m massaging your breasts.

A: Next, how about you lean over... ah— just a little more and the side of your breast will...

(To say that a nude apron is a man’s fantasy would be true, but...)

When wearing such an absurd attire, one would be unable to think about the serious things.

(How the nude apron does carry a destiny of being feared.)

Alfons: And then, let the finished batter sit overnight and then bake...

Kate: Overnight...

At that moment, the smile disappeared from Kate’s face.

It would seem that the word ‘overnight’ had brought about the fact that my life was on the verge of fading.

It was around this time I blamed the recipe of the ever kind and polite Victor,

when Kate murmured,

Kate: Alfons, actually...

Alfons: ...?

Kate: Actually... I knew that all this was because of a mission.

(Yes, I figured. You do have quite a sharp intuition in the strangest places, after all.)

Kate: I’m sure something went on, which caused you to cover for someone?

(Goodness, you’re quite taken with that sort of thing, aren’t you.)

(...Well, not that she’s completely wrong about that.)

Kate: I know in my head that it can’t be helped. ...But, still, if I were being completely honest... I’m really scared.

K: Alfons, if you die, then I don’t know what I’d do...

Alfons: ......... (O_O)

Kate: But...

K: ...I will never, ever let you die.

Alfons: Never?

Kate: Ever. Because even if William and Victor were to say there’s no use, I won’t ever give up.

K: After all, I... I don’t have enough of you yet, Alfons.

I knew that Kate was thinking about my fate of ‘dying without being left behind in anyone’s memories,’

as she expressed her words.

Alfons: If I were to kick the bucket just like that in a matter of several hours... would you forget me?

Kate: No way! I won’t forget you, and that’s absolute.

K: But, even so, it’s not enough still...

Kate murmured this, as though in reflection, her eyes pricked with beautiful tears.

Alfons: Pfft...

A: Ahahaha—

(Aww... goodness, you really are as much of a fool as you are ever so darling, Kate.)

Alfons: What a fool you are, trying to act tough even when so anxious you can hardly bear it. It’s practically an open book, you know.

Kate: So you say, but I know you made me wear this to blow my worries away...

Alfons: Oh, my. I must implore you not to look down on my insatiable desire for a nude apron.

Kate: Ah— wait... Alfons...

Victor: Al, Kate! Here you guys are, we found out how to defuse the bomb!

Kate: ...Victor, William!

K: Is that so!? Thank you so much. So Alfons can be saved.

K: I’m really glad... so, so glad...

Victor: Ahh... yes... I’m... inclined to agree?

William: This is quite an innovative look on you, isn’t it, Kate?

Kate: Huh? Ah— t-this is...!

Alfons: Pfft... hehe.

(This sort of ridiculous sketch could be considered a comedy, no?)

Alfons: Anyhow, could I leave the defusing to you guys?

—— Alfons’ room ——

With the bomb defused, I took Kate back to my room.

Alfons: To think death was flashing right before my very eyes. I even got to witness such a darling tearful face, too.

Kate: Ugh, you’re the worst— I really was about to double over in worry!

I grabbed Kate’s wrist, which was hitting repeatedly on me like a cat, and I pinned them on the bed.

Alfons: Indeed, I’m the worst.

A: After all, I had made you so sad, and yet I can’t make an absolute promise that I won’t die.

Kate: ...I know.

K: But even still, I fell in love with you.

Alfons: What a good girl you are. You have my praises.

Patting her head, Kate sniffled.

Alfons: What may happen tomorrow is beyond us. That said, though, I do feel it’s regrettable were I to die tomorrow.

A: A lot went on today, but isn’t it fun in and of itself to be able to laugh together like this now?

A: Tomorrow, something more fun may happen.

A: After all, it would seem that I want to relish in such times with you.

A: All that to say, this is just the beginning for the both of us, no?

Kate: Alfons...

K: Yes, that’s right. Let’s do something more and more fun.

Alfons: Yes, let’s.

A: ——With that, will you strip? Or will we do it like this?

Kate: .........Come again?

Giving Kate, who had a dazed look, a sidelong glance, I slipped off my jacket and grabbed onto my shirt...

Alfons: I would prefer clothes on. Well then, don’t mind if I do.

Kate: Wh— ah... Alfons... wait...

Alfons: Ahha! Look at how dripping wet it is, here between your legs.

Kate: How could I not with that get-up... ah...

Alfons: Then allow me to fulfill your expectations, whispering embarrassing things while doing many things you love, alright?

Kate: ah— ...ngh...

As I sucked and licked there, she cried out like a cat in heat.

She came once, and Kate looked a bit lethargic as I lifted her waist and had her on all fours.

Alfons: Aww... the apron’s so stained now...

Kate: hah... Al...fons...

Alfons: Oh, you want more already? Then, jut out your waist a bit more, will you.

Kate blinked, as though hesitant, and then let out words I wouldn’t have predicted.

Kate: Umm...

K: Do you... find it fun, seeing me like this?

Alfons: Huh?

Kate: I-I mean, if there are many fun things to come... you won’t rush to death, right?

(.........Goodness.)

(Truly, you...)

Alfons: Indeed, I do. Enjoying such a naughty sight is quite fun for me.

A: So that’s why, come now. Entertain me more, won’t you. If you do well, I’ll make you feel good.

Kate pushed out her waist while on all fours,

so that the wet part was right before my eyes.

Such a sight was naughty, laudable... and I couldn’t hold back a smile.

Alfons: Well done. Then——as you wish.

Kate: Ahh...!

Alfons: It’s so hot inside you. ...Come on, don’t run away from the pleasure.

A: Feel it with everything you can. So that... you won’t ever forget me.

Today, once again, I cast a spell on Kate to push down her shame.

And, today as well, Kate was taken by the heat, trying her hardest to engrave me in her memory.

Alfons: What’s the heat inside you like right now? Its shape?

Kate: haa... ah, ahh——

When she turned over, our eyes met.

Alfons: Aha— what a face.

Our foreheads touched, and the inside of Kate seemed to swell in happiness.

(Someday, the time will come when our breaths will cease. After all, death is the one and only thing that’s equal among all humans.)

——But, even so, I...

(By any means necessary, I will die after you. Not that I will ever tell you so.)

Keeping this secret in my heart,

I will watch you try your utmost hardest, filling your mind with thoughts of me and feeling good as soon as possible.

(You are here. That alone would be so much fun...)

(Rushing toward death would be nothing short of a waste, and even if I wanted to, I don’t think I could, at least for a while to come.)

Fin.

ko-fi ☕️ ┊ comms 🤍

NOTES:

[1] Alfons uses [絶賛〜中] (zessan...—chuu), which is a way of saying ‘presently’ or ‘currently,’ specifically referring to Christmas, but it can sort of have a bit of a humorous ring to it too. I wasn’t sure exactly how to make it sound humorous in this case, so I took another part, specifically the singing fa-la-la part, in hopes of adding a bit of a light-heartedness or ‘joking’ sort of tone to it.

[2] I’m not completely sure this is the term for [裸エプロン] (hadaka-epuron), where [裸] (hadaka) means ‘nude.’ But basically, Kate’s like butt-naked while wearing an apron.

#i can never face will or vic again #ikemen villains #ikevil #イケメンヴィラン #ikevil alfons #ikevil alfons sylvatica #alfons sylvatica #ikemen villains alfons #cybird ikemen series #cybird ikemen #cybird otome #ikemen series #otome game #otome #ikevil translation #ikevil translations #d: cafekitsune #d: strangergraphics

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katsurinssims · 5 months ago

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I have bigger (read nicer, aha) CC sets ready to go which I haven't uploaded yet, becuase I wanted to make sure that the previews actually show them properly and my work has been taking up all my time... so I'm uploading some of the smaller things I've been working on in the meantime, aha.

Here's *a lot* of recolours of the BG slacks heels mesh!

First up a set of solids in 12 Aelia colours with boots from BG and NichellerJ's shoe edit. As well as a texture default using the colours shown in the swatch. TF-EF, casual, formal and outerwear. TF and EF are repo'd to AF (sorry for lack of standalone versions today, I forgor these trousers had multiple ages). Default replacement replaces the texture of tfbottomslacksheels, afbottomslacksheels, and efbottomslacksheels and makes them availible for the same catergories as the custom versions. Because it's a texure replacement, it's compatible with mesh replacements, and the AF version shown in the preview and swatches is actually shown with @pforestsims mesh edit!

Download in Aelia colours with boots

Download in Aelia colours with shoes

Download BG slacksheels texture default

Then 12 patterns with the same shoe options, same ages (also repo), for casual ond outerwear.

Download patterns with boots

Download patterns with shoes

Finally, 8 corduroy retextures with an edit of the BG boots in @withlovefromsimtown's Neural network colours, which I hadn't used yet and seemed to be just the muted pallette I wanted with these, aha. Anyway I love corduroy and there's nothing wrong with that.

Download Corduroy retextures

Alt - Download from Simblr

Anyway, that should really be all the slacks you'll ever need. I noticed when I looked again, that NichellerJ's default with the shoe edit I borrowed was actually gone in the time since I made these; so I'm reuploading that here as I downloaded it to get those textures, in case anyone was looking for it.

Download NichellerJ's slacks default

#ts2 #the sims 2 #sims 2 cc #sims 2 #ts2 cc #ts2 download #sims 2 download #ts2cc #ts2 defaults #ts2 default replacement #ts2 default #DR clothes #sims 2 clothes #clothes bottoms #clothes TF #clothes AF #clothes EF

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dogbunni · 9 months ago

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shut up. saiki k tumblrverse

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🍤shrimptextures reblogged

😊justnormalguythings Follow

#I LOOKED IT UP AND 69% IS THE AVERAGE SCORE IM SO MAD

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💟yuri2k reblogged

🗿nenjoriki Follow

ii. Jsshj; nsjsks)hæj

💟yuri2k

go off king!!!

#nendo did u fall asleep scrolling tumblr again #<- last time he did that he reblogged the same post 27 times in a row <3 #one time he fell asleep scrolling tiktok and posted a clip of him snoring lmfaoooooooo #real life #not aesthetic #sorry y2k babes i'll reblog some cunty lil jpegs rn #i just have to clown on my irls i kno u all understand💅

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💟yuri2k reblogged

😻chiyobangs Follow

rah rah fax machine

📿th3pu55yd35tr0y3r

aha i didnt know u were freakay like that 🫦

💟yuri2k

SHE MEANS LIKE THE HAIRCUT. BANGS!!!!!! LIKE THE HAIR ON UR HEAD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! U DIPSHIT!!!!!!! KILLS U WITH MY EYES 💣💣💣

#stop being a pervert challenge: impossible #also omg chiyopipi!! i didn't know u had a blog #hiiiiiiiiiii 💗💘✨🍰🌸💐💖🥰🌷🌺🍒🍡👛🩷🍧🧋🔮🦄🌟🪷💗💫⭐ #dont listen to him he was cursed w no rizz

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📿th3pu55yd35tr0y3r reblogged

😻chiyobangs Follow

rah rah fax machine

📿th3pu55yd35tr0y3r

aha i didnt know u were freakay like that 🫦

#girl i'll fax on ur machine til u rah

6 notes

😐tanaka489

what the fuck is human pet guy

1 note

🍤shrimptextures

fukc it.i ccant stop thinking abt that one blog. normalguy. do u think he jnows abt human pet guy

#maybei am hsving a bental makebown

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💸thericherelonmusk reblogged fivefingerdiscount

🗿nenjoriki Follow

chair -> 💺

50,021 notes

💟yuri2k reblogged

🎤urinarytractinjection Follow

toumatome -> urinarytractinjection

Fear not friends, for I have only changed my URL. I remain the same [FULL LEGAL NAME REDACTED FOR INTERNET PRIVACY AND SAFETY REASONS, AS ALL TUMBLR USERS SHOULD DO, IN CASE OF DOXXING, PHISHING, BLACKMAILING, CYBERBULLYING, STALKING, ETC. CRIMES IN WHICH YOUR INDENTITY COULD BE DISCOVERED AND USED AGAINST YOU] that you have all known and come to love. For reasons undisclosed I will not be taking suggestions or criticism re. my new URL at this time. As always my ask box remains open (anon is always on, anonymous yappers- I desire you carnally) I will begin answering some of the backlog shortly ÒvÓ

💟yuri2k

WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS URL

#SAY SIKE RN

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😊justnormalguythings Follow because you follow #normcore

#normalcore #normal #oranges #normcore #justnormalguythings

80 notes

💟yuri2k reblogged

☠️abysslblkflmedrgn Follow

‼️⚠️HELP⚠️‼️

do3s 4ny1 kno a GOOD 4rtist who tak3s oc commissionz??? i w4nt 4rt of my orv oc plzzzzzzzzz

💟yuri2k

i think @merartist is taking comms!!

#get that bag girl!! #not aesthetic #real life

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💸thericherelonmusk reblogged underagegunshot

☠️abysslblkflmedrgn Follow

my oc cld probz take yjh in a 1v1

🏍️underagegunshot Follow

what if i killed you dead

☠️abysslblkflmedrgn Follow

What the fuck did you just fucking say about me, you little bitch? I'll have you know I graduated top of my class in the Navy Seals, and I've been involved in numerous secret raids on Al-Quaeda, and I have over 300 confirmed kills. I am trained in gorilla warfare and I'm the top sniper in the entire US armed forces. You are nothing to me but just another target. I will wipe you the fuck out with precision the likes of which has never been seen before on this Earth, mark my fucking words. You think you can get away with saying that shit to me over the Internet? Think again, fucker. As we speak I am contacting my secret network of spies across the USA and your IP is being traced right now so you better prepare for the storm, maggot. The storm that wipes out the pathetic little thing you call your life. You're fucking dead, kid. I can be anywhere, anytime, and I can kill you in over seven hundred ways, and that's just with my bare hands. Not only am I extensively trained in unarmed combat, but I have access to the entire arsenal of the United States Marine Corps and I will use it to its full extent to wipe your miserable ass off the face of the continent, you little shit. If only you could have known what unholy retribution your little "clever" comment was about to bring down upon you, maybe you would have held your fucking tongue. But you couldn't, you didn't, and now you're paying the price, you goddamn idiot. I will shit fury all over you and you will drown in it. You're fucking dead, kiddo.

🏍️underagegunshot Follow

L copypasta

🐉dragons-locator Follow

dragons

DRAGONS LOCATED

#once again thinking about how much money I could make if I had Father copyright this copypasta #follow for more unethical capital gains pro tips #also I don't go here but ORV fandom seems uncouth and rabid #when I buy tumblr I'm banning these two specifically

37 notes

💟yuri2k

🎀dump him moodboard🎀

for anon <3

#omg an actual y2k post who is she!! #this ones for the girlies #kiss me instead #<- who said that #y2k #y2k aesthetic #y2kcore #y2k moodboard

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🍤shrimptextures

I AM NOT HAVING A FUCKING BREAKDOWN

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💟yuri2k reblogged

🌸perfectprettyplease

💟yuri2k

dm me babe 💕

#real life #not aesthetic

3,209 notes

🌸perfectprettyplease

#oomf is having a breakdown about a random blog?? #idk it's just a normal blog #they make relatable captions with stock images #worried about oomf :( #what do i do? #how do i reach out without sounding rude </3 #i just think someone should check on them #pppposts

3,209 notes

🍤shrimptextures

ORANGES?????????????? FUCKING ORANGES?????

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📿th3pu55yd35tr0y3r reblogged

😊justnormalguythings Follow

📿th3pu55yd35tr0y3r

SAIKI??????!?!??

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🗿nenjoriki Follow

📿th3pu55yd35tr0y3r

💟yuri2k

hi!!!

🎤urinarytractinjection Follow

Hello fellow tumblr user and real life acquaintance :3

🍎merartist Follow

🌸perfectprettyplease

Hi!

😻chiyobangs Follow

☠️abysslblkflmedrgn Follow

🏍️underagegunshot Follow

💸thericherelonmusk

💰fivefingerdiscount Follow

😐tanaka489

#ok this took way too long lol #sorry i didnt include everyone!!#this was supposed to be part of a wider saiki k series i was planning on posting for halloween but life is throwing me some curveballs rn #so idk if ill have anything else ready to post. i have a fic im working on rn tho!!#saiki's normalguy sona fascinates me #you know aiura would run this website like a military operation #she'd have that shit on lock #kaido and kuboyasu have tumblr beef but they don't know that they know each other in real life. enemies to idiots AU 150k #this was made for dark theme obvs but i did try to make it work on dash and mobile. sorry if its ass tho #saiki kusuo no ψ nan #the disastrous life of saiki k.#saiki k #saiki kusuo

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darcyolsson · 3 months ago

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I finally got to the bit with the threesome. I cannot believe they ended an episode about suicide bc of sex addiction with a threesome.

I can't. This show is like the TV version of self pub beach lit. Literally no thoughts just vibes. How the fuck is this airing on ABC.

Guess I need to watch the next episode to find out if it's even mentioned again. Pray for me.

i will NEVER get over the hard cut from the threesome to the suicide hotline. it's permanently etched onto my retina. doctor odyssey said nooooo dont kill yourself your so sexy aha. the thing about doc od is that it's maybe not good but that does not take away from the fact that it's incredible. also ☝️ i dont think the episode was about sex addiction i think it's about how conventional marriage can be constricting, the sex addiction to me read more as a coping mechanism as a result of stress put on by this relationship. notably, the groom isn't the only one who cheats, it's the bride too (with the best man no less, who's vaguely implied to have feelings for the groom too). they don't communicate about how they're all unhappy with the arrangement and as a result the groom with preexisting mental health problems kills himself. had they talked about it, they could possibly have figured something out together, since they clearly all care about each other, but they let societal norms (personified by the bride's mom) get in the way. cut to avery, max, and tristan who are talking about what they want, with avery explicitly telling the guys she doesn't want a traditional relationship after having had a negative experience. then they have a threesome about it. very subtle!

basically dr odyssey said heteronormative culture and marriages Will kill you if you let it. you will see this more obviously in the episodes that follow but the entire thesis statement of this show is to explore different lifestyles and romances and they convey that in the least subtle way possible. and tbh i get why they are so heavy-handed about it because there's like 1 million outlandish things that make 0 sense happening at all times so when i'm watching i'm not really paying attention to the metaphors i'm paying attention whatever insane thing they've conjured up for this weeks episode. either way they REALLY love to make don johnson turn to the camera and say "wow! love in all its forms, including polyamory, is wonderful!" it's great. it's so silly. i literally have no idea why it's even a medical drama. actually i doubt it can even be called a medial drama because i dont think theyve ever done any slightly realistic procedure on the show even once. i love it. i too can't believe that this is airing on network tv and if it doesn't get 100000000 seasons i too will jump off the side of the odyssey and then have a threesome immediately after. 💛

#answered asks #doctor odyssey #justplainsalty

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daisyvisions · 2 years ago

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A Little Motivation - (e.s)

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. Pairing: Baseball Player!Eric x Fem! Reader ‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. Summary: Being a volunteer tutor can be challenging, especially when it’s the university’s star athlete who hardly pays attention. How will you get him to focus and what lengths are you willing to go through to get his full attention? ‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. Word Count: 1.5K ‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. Warnings: Smut (18+, minors DNI), pervy!Eric, allusions to male masturbation, allusions to sexual favors, smut is not explicit per se, but let me know if I missed a warning! ‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. A/N: had this drafted for quite sometime and finally found some motivation (lol) to finish it. Let me know if you’d like a part 2! Proofread once. ‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. Network: @deoboyznet

Being a volunteer tutor was always something you were passionate about. You always loved to help others understand lessons they were stuck on, the smile on their faces when they get the correct answer, and even the spark in their eyes when they hit that “aha” moment.

And it really didn't matter to you how long it took some of the students to understand the lessons. Your patience was always one of your strongest traits. Never in your life had you felt irritable or impatient with anyone.

… that is until Eric Sohn entered the picture.

You've heard of the name countless times. He's practically the star athlete in your university. No matter who you were talking to, his name somehow found its way into the conversation. Not only was he the star athlete, but he was also known to be incredibly handsome.

His face looked like it was perfectly molded by the hands of a god. From his strong facial features all the way to his toned abs, one look from him would turn your knees into jelly.

But not you.

Eric Sohn was the bane of your existence the moment you were paired to be his tutor. You see, in order to keep his status as the star athlete, he needed to pull up his grades. Otherwise he would be kicked out of the baseball team (which was something he dreaded the most).

It all started when he showed up late to your first session all because he was flirting with someone outside of the library. Then later on he would constantly use his phone during sessions, half-ass his answers, wouldn't stop talking about sports or parties, etc.

Sure, you've had your fair share of distracted students. But he was a literal nightmare.

“Are you even listening to me?” you ask, trying your best to keep your cool.

“Yeah yeah atoms whatever-” he doesn't even look up at you while he's texting on his phone.

You were starting to become frustrated with him, wondering how anyone could see him as perfect when he's got the attention of a damn goldfish.

You sigh out of frustration, slamming the book closed and immediately pushing your chair away from the table to stand.

“I think we're done for today.” you wait for his reaction as you sling the strap of your bag over your shoulder.

“Yeah? Cool! See you tomorrow, tutor.” He winks at you before getting up. You scoff before you turn to leave the study room.

“See you tomorrow.”

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆.

The next day you were running late to your tutor session with Eric. Sprinting down the hall as fast as you could, you lost track of time tutoring another student who needed urgent help in finishing an assignment.

You barge in the private study room, immediately apologizing for your tardiness as you dropped your stuff onto the table and readjusted your hair and sundress from all the running.

“You okay there?” Eric asks while scrolling on his phone. “Yeah, got caught up with another student.” You breathe out.

“Ah shit-” you curse under your breath as your pen rolls off the table and you immediately drop down to get it.

As soon as you bend down to reach for the pen, Eric looks up from his phone to check what you’re doing and is suddenly greeted by the view of your sundress hiked up enough to give him a glimpse of your clothed cunt.

He felt like his eyes were about to fall off from the view in front of him. He knew he shouldn’t have stared but the way your ass was angled to him? He was ready to drop everything and worshi-

“Eric? Wanna start already?” you look up at him, noticing the hot flush in his cheeks.

“Y-yeah, yeah let’s start.” He frantically stutters, turning to his book as he tries to hide his embarrassment from you.

As the tutoring session goes on, it’s like you were slowly unraveling in front of Eric eyes. He kept getting distracted with the way your mouth moved when you talked, how your cleavage would show every time you shifted in your seat, and so on. You were like a forbidden fruit being dangled in front of his face and he was struggling to resist taking a bite into you.

The more he kept on looking, the more he could feel his cock strain beneath his pants. You’d think he’d be more distracted than ever when you would ask him questions, but it was quite the opposite. For the first time, Eric was actually paying attention during a tutoring session, but you already knew why.

And he wasn't so slick in hiding it either, you knew exactly why he was more attentive than usual today after catching him staring at your ass… So you decided to take advantage of the moment.

“Eric, can we take a tiny break first? I wanna talk to you about your progress.”

“Uh.. sure I guess?” his eyebrows scrunching in confusion.

“We've been at this for a couple of weeks now and it seems like your grades aren’t improving. They’ve been the same ever since and some even slowly dropping…” You heavily sigh as you lift your glasses up to your head and lean your elbows on the table, making sure your cleavage is tastefully exposed.

You can see the way Eric awkwardly shifts his legs from his seat, trying to “discreetly” adjust his jeans from the strain of his erection underneath.

You scoot a little closer, reaching your hand out to lightly grab his chin and get his eyes to focus on you, “What will it take for me to get you focused, hm?” You stare right into his dilated pupils.

“I-uh- I’m not s-so sure…” he stutters, trying to clear his throat from feeling the intensity of your gaze.

“I’ll tell you what-” You pull away your hand from his chin and place it on top of his thigh. You swear you heard a very faint gasp coming out of his mouth.

“If you get a really good score in your test this week… I’ll reward you with something special.” You stroke your thumb repeatedly on his thigh.

“Shit-” he mutters under his breath while trying to keep himself together.

“Do we have a deal?” You ask him.

“Yes, yeah. Totally, yeah we have a deal.” He quickly responds.

“Good!” You squeeze his thigh quickly before pulling back your hand and reopening your book, “Let’s get to it then!”

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆.

After an hour and thirty minutes more of your tutoring session, Eric was able to answer all your questions correctly and even get an impressive grade on the short mock test you let him answer.

“Wow look at that Eric! You answered everything so well!” You place your hand on top of his.

“Couldn’t have done it without the best tutor…” he replies sheepishly.

“Good job! I’m so proud of you!” You move your hand to lightly stroke his hair, Eric’s cheeks flush at the praise and gesture.

“T-thank you…” he stutters as he tries to avoid looking back at you. Your praises subtly making his hard on strain even further.

As soon as the bell rings, you gather all your things into your bag and head out for the door. You stop midway to turn back to Eric.

“Oh yeah! Almost forgot-” Your hands suddenly disappear under your dress. You wiggle your hips a bit until Eric visibly sees your panties drop to your ankles.

“What are you doing?!” He loudly whispers, shocked by your sudden gesture.

His eyes widen and before he can even fully process what’s happening you quickly step out of your underwear and throw at his direction making it hit directly in his face. His eyes nearly roll back in his skull from getting a quick scent of your essence on them.

“A little reward for today superstar, you deserve it.” You walk towards him as he’s still seated in his chair, making sure your hover above him.

“I gotta go now but just remember-” you caress his jaw with your hand while keeping eye contact with him. His cheeks start to feel like they’re on fire from your lingering touch and the way you’re looking down at him.

“-every time you do well, you’ll get a reward… and it can be anything you want.” You swipe your thumb delicately across his bottom lip, making him whimper from your touch.

“See you tomorrow!” you pull your hand back and quickly exit the room, leaving Eric stunned in his chair, your panties still crumpled in his hand and a light wet patch forming at the front of his jeans. Oh he’s definitely gonna have some fun tonight thinking about you while he shoves your underwear in his face and pumps his cock like there’s no tomorrow.

And he’s especially excited on what kind of reward awaits him the next tutoring session.

-- Part 2 --

#deoboyznet #eric sohn #eric sohn smut #the boyz smut #the boyz hard hours #tbz scenarios #the boyz fic #the boyz fanfic #tbz drabbles #tbz smut #the boyz scenarios #kpop smut #eric sohn scenarios #tbz hard hours

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champion-city-intern · 27 days ago

Text

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

SYSTEM INITIALIZATION SEQUENCE STARTED

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[✓] Boot Loader Engaged... [✓] Memory Check Complete - All Systems Go! [✓] Network Interface Online [✓] Security Protocols Verified - No Threats Detected [✓] AI Core Activation - Hello, RadarFalls!

>> WELCOME TO NEXOS V.1 << >> SYSTEM READY << >> PRESS ANY KEY TO CONTINUE... <<

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Is this thing on...? Is it working...? Oh gee... ...Ugh... Oh! Yay! It works! I thought it wouldn't—phew! I'm relieved that my device is functioning efficiently, even better than I expected! Haha— Ahem. Hello, hello! I’m uh—I’m Radar! Radar Falls! Intern of Champion City and assistant to the leader—dun dun dun! Stella! Ah... ha... ha... I thought that was necessary. Uh... sorry about that. I do that sometimes!Oh—right! Focus!I set up this account to—hopefully—make some friends and share updates about my life as an intern! Not that I don’t have friends! I do! Stella and my pet bunny, Blinky! She’s a black rabbit and adorable! And—oh!—I’m friends with Petra! She’s part of the New Order of the Stone, and she’s seriously cool. Uh... don’t tell anyone this, but Jesse kind of intimidates me. It’s not personal! Well, it sort of is. Stella says Champion City and Beacontown have a rivalry, and apparently, Jesse is the leader of Beacontown, so... yeah, I just avoid Beacontown when I can. Honestly, I never thought I’d ever be an intern! It’s one of my greatest achievements! Before this, I was on Stella’s Inventory Management Team—oh! I was really good at it! Organization? Lists? Sorting? Amazing. I love that kind of thing! Stella thought I did such a great job that she made me her intern! (Okay, I might be saying "intern" too much. Aha—sorry... Wait—I apologize too much, too! Oops. Mental note, work on that.) Oh! My device! I built it myself! Stella encouraged me to make something really creative—she says I have a great imagination, which is so cool to hear! So, I put my creativity to the test and designed this from scratch! Stella was impressed, but she let me keep it. Now... what should I call it? Naming things is hard! I go through, like, a million ideas before settling on one. Stella is a great boss! Sometimes she’s a little... harsh, but I know she means well! I like being around her—except when I don’t—but Petra is easier to be around. Less pressure. More fun. Less formal boss-y stuff, you know? Speaking of Petra—she’s amazing! We hang out when I’m on break—we walk, talk, and she’s teaching me how to wield my stone axe! She keeps telling me to upgrade to an iron axe, but I really want to use this one until it breaks first. No sense wasting resources! I get attached to things like that. Oh—and Blinky? Best friend material. She’s always there when I need her, and she has so much energy! Honestly, she matches mine perfectly. Stella gave her to me, and I love her so much. Thanks, Stella! ...Oh wow—I’ve been rambling. And bouncing between topics. Again. It happens! I just get excited! Whoops! Sorry! So uh—yeah! That’s all I’ve got for now. If you have questions, ask away! Just nothing mean or terrible, please. Teasing is fine—I think—but I don’t want to seem too sensitive... Even though maybe I am a little bit?Hope you enjoy your time here!

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

******************************

SYSTEM POWERING DOWN

******************************

******************************

(REFERENCE SHEET)

Silly Radar Backstory

Radar lived in a village situated between Champion City and Beacontown, though it was slightly closer to the former.

His parents, Mr. and Mrs. Falls, were far from ideal. They imposed strict rules on every aspect of his life—what he could do, what he could wear. But it wasn’t just them; the entire village was harsh toward anyone who deviated from their rigid expectations. His parents were more emotionally abusive than physically so—not the worst, but certainly not loving. As a result, Radar struggled to make friends. Most saw him as... odd.

When he turned 18, his parents kicked him out, leaving him to figure out his future on his own. For the first time, he was free to make his own choices. With his bags packed and determination set, he left the village in search of a better home.

That’s how he found himself in Champion City.

It took some time to adjust, but eventually, he settled into the structured, pristine environment. His next priority was finding a job—something that proved challenging until Stella offered him a position on her Inventory Management Team. In her own words, “To help you settle down a bit more, you know?” Radar was thrilled and accepted the opportunity without hesitation.

Stella quickly took notice of his efficiency and saw potential in him. She considered

making him her assistant—or rather, her intern—but decided to wait a month before finalizing the promotion. When she finally made him her intern, Radar was beyond ecstatic.

Then things took a turn for the worse.

The workload piled up, the stress became overwhelming, and he nearly quit several times. But Stella had a way of pulling him back in with clever manipulation, convincing him to stay. Whenever she sensed he was reaching his breaking point, she would offer small gestures to keep him going—like gifting him his beloved pet bunny, Blinky.

If he ever tried to leave, she would threaten to take Blinky away.

Eventually, Stella assigned Radar to oversee The Mines, and that’s where he met Petra. His nerves skyrocketed—after all, she was a member of the legendary New Order of the Stone. But to his surprise, she was incredibly laid-back, and they quickly bonded. They weren’t exactly best friends, though—they had their own respective closest companions: Jesse for Petra, Blinky for Radar.

Silly Radar HC's

-Aside from having ADHD and autism, he has anxiety, OCD, and low self-esteem.

-Since he's Asian, he speaks both English and Chinese.

-He uses his notebook for notes, sketches, and plans. While the other book is just a regular book that he reads.

-Radar uses a stone axe, pickaxe, and shield. He'll eventually move onto iron whenever he's ready.

-Like he said before, Petra trains him on how to fight. He's been doing pretty well in Petra's eyes.

-His favorite color is green, but is overshadowed because of Stella adoring the color purple.

-His parents weren't really the best. They kicked him out once he turned 18, so he moved into Champion City. This also adds onto why he has low self-esteem, anxiety, and OCD.

-Whenever Radar is thinking, he usually paces back and forth while talking under his breath.

-In this AU, Radar does not have a tattoo because Stella does not allow it. At all. If he could get a tattoo, it would be the Ender Dragon.

-Radar is very emotional.

-He does not have a decent sleep schedule, so sometimes he sleeps during the day and stays up all night.

-He doesn't eat a whole lot, but his comfort food are cookies. Sometimes he ends up binge eating them whenever he's around any cookies.

-He always tries to be as friendly as he can be! Which makes him naive to some degree.

-He absolutely loves Blinky with all his heart. :3

-I feel like he would listen to Hatsune Miku & enjoy Adventure Time.

Silly Relationships [UNLOCKED]

Jesse: Radar actually fears Jesse. Stella took advantage of the fact that Radar never lived in Champion City, so she convinced him both Champion City and Beacontown are rivals.

Petra: Ever since they met at The Mines, they both grew really close to each other. Not best friends, but really close friends that enjoy each other's presence.

Stella: She is like a toxic friend to Radar. She manipulated him, making him always rely on her and making him think she's his "best friend". [It's actually Blinky, but you get the point]

Lluna: He doesn't really interact with Lluna that much. Only when Stella wants him to watch over her or when he lets Blinky and Lluna play together.

Silly Relationships [LOCKED]

Nell: ???

Olivia: ???

Axel: ???

Lukas: ???

Jack: ???

Nurm: ???

Ivor: ???

Xara: ???

Romeo: ???

Silly shipping information

I'm the type of person who likes figuring out different ships that can either be overrated, underrated, or a rare pair. Yes, including the toxic ones... I just don't like ships that are bad and disgusting. I'm talking about ships in general.

My favorite Radar ship is Radell [Radar x Nell].

I usually headcanon Nell as 19-20 years old and then Radar 18-20.

I don't mind other ships for Radar though and I would love to know more Radar ships. <3

Here are the Radar ships I know of: Radell, Radian, Jessadar, and RAMA/PAMdar.

I don't know the ship name for Radar x Aiden. 😭

Silly Extras

Ask me through my inbox if you want to set up a roleplay account based on this AU or if you want to a roleplay through messages. We can also do roleplays through inbox, but messages and a roleplay blog would be way easier.

You're allowed to flirt and compliment Radar if you want! You can also do a little bit of suggestive stuff, but not too much since it makes me uncomfortable. :')

DNI: Homophobes, transphobes, racists, sexists, creepy people, dark humor jokes [I'm sensitive, but there are some jokes I can take], rude people, pedophilia, proships, maps. There's probably more, but I can't think of all of them right now.

(OOC INTRO)

Hello!

I am the creator of this Radar roleplay account. You can call me Purple since that's the name I usually go.

Here is my account: @purplefoxandpinkbear

Here are my other two roleplay accounts: @local-hero-in-residence , @the-framed-one

Here are some simple things you probably should know about me:

Cisgender Female

She/Her

Minor [4/21]

Loves MCSM and FNaF

I really love cute stuff and animals

#1 Radar fan [He genuinely makes me happy when I see him]

#1 Radell shipper

#mcsm rp #mcsm art #mcsm fanart #roleplay account #ask blog #roleplay #mcsm #mcsm au #minecraft story mode #mcsm radar #rp blog #roleplay blog #in character #out of character #rp #minecraft #minecraft story mode radar

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silent-sanctum · 1 year ago

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I hope you're doing fine mijin🤩💗....

Can I request a fic where the stone ocean group survives and jotaro meets his wife(the reader) or ex wife that's upto you

Aha! A 2-for-1 special! Also, hiya @jotarosimpforever and to you too anon 👋 I'm doing fine thank you! Sorry it took this long to answer your requests, I'm currently on vacation so I was busy doing stuff 🫡 But here it is! A post-Stone Ocean fic featuring domestic times with our favorite DILF 6taro 😘 Hope you enjoy ♡

Way Home - Part 6! Jotaro x Reader

word count: 3.3k

“Breaking news: The recent events people termed as the “Shifting Skies Phenomenon” comes to an abrupt halt, resulting in mass casualty midst the confusion of countless civilians worldwide”

The scene was in complete chaos just the way it was for the past few hours. Where it was due to destruction as the heavens changed hues, from burning autumn to midnight void and back in a blink of the eye, now everything and everyone were in complete loss of control, emergency respondents dispatched to numerous vehicular accidents and spontaneous locations with crowds sporting spontaneous injuries.

Where others wouldn’t know what else to brand this phenomenon but “otherworldly”, you knew it as a catastrophic Stand attack.

And you’d come to know these information because of none other than your own husband- A solitary individual who opted to keep his responsibilities a secret from the people he loved, to sacrifice his happiness and suffer a life of “kill-or-be-killed” if it meant giving his family the normal life he could never have.

If it weren’t for circumstances that got yourself involved in one of these Stand encounters, you wouldn’t find yourself falling into the rabbit hole that was learning the nature of Stands, and eventually taking up a managerial role in an exclusive private organization as one of their agents. If it weren’t for that eventful day, you wouldn’t be able to meet Jotaro.

That stoic, abrasive, yet loving man…

Images of him smiling at you with fondness glazing his sharp blue eyes flashed in your mind as you imagined the same man charging head first into the battlefield to save and protect his and your only daughter from this grand scale threat.

And with the sky and the Earth’s gravity returning back to its usual state, you should be relieved knowing the enemy was defeated.

But without being there to witness how it ended, you gave into overthinking, imagining the repercussions that were dealt to achieve the cost of such victory.

As if snapping back to reality, you found yourself running through a plethora of bustling Speedwagon Foundation employees, almost crazed and frantic. The organization was just as rushed and busy as the rest of the world was with one half of the Foundation attempting to get shit under control by getting in-contact with non-government networks for aid and support, and the other half accommodating injured civilians to help reduce the local hospitals from overcrowding.

And just as what’s written in paper, you’ve received information that a chopper had just arrived with 2 members of the Joestar family onboard, injured from a fatal fight. You wasted not even a split second to bolt from the safety of your room and here in the private foundation’s building.

You rounded a corner, pushing past a couple more of people until you were met with a signage that read “Medical Wing”. You’ve studied the place’s layout enough times since Jotaro first brought you here during your orientation. While the place crowded with panicked and wounded civilians, you knew that the Foundation had exclusive areas and services reserved for the convenience of the Joestar bloodline.

Frustrated, you were desperate enough to seek the first nurse you could see and ask where her family was, but you’d find out that wouldn’t happen. Your hurried steps led you to the emergency room and instead of a random nurse, your attention landed on a teenage girl with messy space buns and torn clothing sitting on one of the benches lining the hallway leading to the operating room.

With one arm in a cast and her waist bandaged, the young girl had her free hand curled into a fist, head bowed as she struggled to hold back her sobs.

At the sight of her, your eyes welled up with tears. “Jolyne…”

In an instant, she jerked her head upright at the sound of her name. It took her a couple of seconds before she saw you standing a few feet away from her. Like mother and daughter, Jolyne’s face crumpled into one of sadness, the tears that she held back now rolling down her cheeks. “Eomma-”

You crossed whatever distance was between you and your child and brought her into a tight hug. “I’m sorry,” she started. “I’m really sorry mom.”

With ease, you withdrew enough for you to do another quick scan over her body. “Are you hurt bad?” You grasped her shoulders with a hand, the other reaching up to cup her wet cheeks. “Does it hurt anywhere?”

Your questions only sent Jolyne into another sob, breaking into tears the second you showed your extreme concerns. “I-I’m fine, but appa-”

You paused. “What… What happened to him?”

“He protected me, my friends, b-but…” She furiously swiped at her eyes despite her sobs. “He’s injured the most. He was bleeding everywhere and now-”

You kept yourself as calm as possible, even if you were on the brink of collapsing yourself. “Where is he?” Jolyne pointed to the double doors leading to the operating room.

Your heart caved in at the thought of your husband laying unconscious being worked on by surgeons and nurses to preserve his life. With a heavy and shaky sigh, you nodded as you willed yourself to not cry in front of your daughter.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t do better,” Jolyne cried. “I’m sorry for letting that stupid accident with that asshole happen that led to dad going through all this bullshit for me-”

You quieted her as you pulled her into another hug, softly caressing her head. “It’s not your fault, pearl,” you said with a whisper. She continued to sob as she buried her face on your shoulder. “Your father knows that too.”

Gently, you led your daughter to one of the benches and sat her down with you beside her. Considering you’d thought the worst before arriving at the Foundation, you looked at the closed double doors with a newfound sense of reassurance. Another sigh.

“Let’s just wait and hope for the best.”

---

The consistent beeping of his vitals echoed throughout the dimmed room and you were left alone with Jotaro, still unconscious with half of his face heavily bandaged together with his throat, an oxygen mask fit on his nose and mouth.

Jolyne visited minutes earlier and told you that she’d be checking with how her other friends were doing.

An hour ago, you and Jolyne stood up immediately as soon as the surgeon stepped through the swinging doors. To everyone’s relief, they managed to stabilize him from his critical state.

According to him, your husband had a pre-existing heart condition that caused his pulse rate to beat at irregular, rapid intervals. Combined with the knowledge of him having to exert excessive strength despite waking up from a comatose state and the heavy amount of stress piling up the past few months, his body had chosen to shut down the second his adrenaline depleted.

Thinking about that again made you scoff through your tears. “You were always an impulsive idiot…” Saying those words caused your eyes to swell again and sniffle.

But what’s done was done. The doctors did what they could and all you can do was to sit beside him, holding his hand with both of yours, praying that he’d recover faster, enough for him to wake up and calm your worrying heart.

Without realizing, you ended up falling asleep still sat on your chair by his bed. You didn’t know how long time has passed in your slumber and you couldn’t be bothered to find out. All that mattered right now was staying by your husband’s side, letting him know, in spirit perhaps, that he wasn’t alone and that you were with him now.

In a way you couldn’t perceive, you somehow felt like he was comforting you as well. A comforting chill would brush against your cheeks, hair, shoulders, or hands and you welcomed the sensation like an old friend.

Eventually, time would pass from mere hours to days and throughout it all, you continued to stay where you were- always making sure to watch over him with persisting hope.

Today marked the 15th day since his admission in the Foundation’s infirmary ward. His fresh bandages still wrapped around the half of his face and throat. His assistive oxygenation was removed the week prior once his vitals stabilized within normal range.

By now, you stayed so much in the medical room that your responsibilities started to catch up as evident with the numerous phone calls and text messages alerting you from your pocket. You figured you’d answer a few and explain the circumstances surrounding you and your family.

That time, you stood by the window hoping to receive better signal. You were in the middle of arguing with a non-compliant employee that worked under your supervision, and through their whining in the speaker, you picked up the sheets shifting behind you.

On that cue, you turned around with supposed foolish hope but in clear daylight, there he was- stirring into consciousness, brows furrowing and scrunching as his eye slowly opened.

You never hung up on someone this fast before but you dropped whatever conversation you had and rushed over to Jotaro’s side, immediately reaching to grasp his hand. It took him a bit to adjust to the natural light, but he lolled his head to you and locked eye contact with you.

You exhaled a shaky breath. “Jotaro-ssi?” With a weak baritone voice, he croaked back your name with instant familiarity. Your eyes welled with new tears. Right then and there, he grunted as he struggled to prop himself upright. “W-What are you doing? You just woke up. You’re supposed to rest!”

At this point, you didn’t realize you started crying when you light-heartedly scolded him. You gripped his hand tight with frustration and relief, teardrops spilling onto your skin. He’s awake. Thank god he’s awake. “Do you know how much of an idiot you are?! I told you you shouldn’t jump into dangerous situations so recklessly! And now look at you! You should be taking your time and recover lying down and here you are forcing yourself to sit! You really are an idiot-”

“I missed you.”

Your heart skipped a beat and whatever ramble you had left trailed off into the thin air. Jotaro sat there patiently, watching you wistfully with hooded eyes. In your hand, he turned his palm upwards and interlocked his fingers with yours. He had that usual air of stoicism in his expression, but there was no mistaking the wet sheen glossing over his aquamarine eyes.

That was all it took for you to break into a sob as you gently wrapped your arms around him in a soft embrace. You felt him tuck his face against the crook of your neck, his tears pooling on your skin in silence. “Next time, tell me at least. Alright?”

“Mm…”

“Don’t scare me like that again, you hear?”

“I’m sorry…”

“You ass.”

---

It’s been 6 months since then and after the chaos had settled across the nation, the Kujos returned to their seaside villa, settling in for the time being to adjust to the new life after the time phenomenon.

Slowly but surely, every member of the family began to live their lives the way they wanted to- Jolyne would often leave the house to hang out with her best friend Ermes and potential boyfriend Anasui, one day bringing home a kid in baseball uniform named Emporio waiting to be adopted into the family, you returned to work to help the other agents in the Foundation, and Jotaro begun to resume teaching in university, choosing to take a break from field research to give him time to rest.

And considering the stress of the whole Stand ordeal they had dealt with since they were 17, you could get used to a mundane life like this.

The early morning sun beamed a warm orange, filtered through the curtains before it could touch both you and your husband. You opened your eyes to find yourself side-lying on his arm to face a still-sleeping Jotaro, tucked bare-chested underneath the sheets with his face mushed against the pillows

You huffed and snuggled closer, nuzzling to bury your nose on the crook of his neck. With a feather-light touch, you raised an index finger to gingerly trace the faded scar across his throat, the shallow dents across his collarbone, the scar on his left shoulder, and the one on his abdomen. One-by-one, you took the time to feel the skin of each in contrast to the rest. “You’ve been through so much…”

He stirred possibly from your tiny motions and soon enough, the arm you lied on curled in to pull you into his hold.

You couldn’t help but giggle as you looked up to see your husband glance at you with sleep-ridden eyes. You propped yourself on his chest and with your chin planted on your overlapped hands flat on his pecs, you whispered out a simple, intentionally-cute “Good morning~”

Jotaro smiled back. “Morning.”

“Break day?”

He nodded.

Life never felt so ordinary after what had happened but you could get used to this. Where every moment in this new era, they could live out the rest of their lives as a normal couple with a normal family.

And what’s a better way to start their new lives but with the domesticity of a newlywed pair.

Both you and Jotaro started the day accomplishing your morning routines- you in the bathroom washing up, he on the balcony to simply soak in the early morning sun. You made your way to the dining area where he stood by waiting for you with two steaming mugs of coffee in his hands. You took one, returned the favor with a chaste peck on his cheek, and went over to cook breakfast for the family.

On cue with the smell of bacon and eggs permeating throughout the house, two pairs of footsteps bounded down the stairs and barged into the area.

“Well good morning to you too Jolyne,” you glanced at her companion with a smile. “Emporio.”

“Going out again?” Jotaro said, glancing at the duo. “This early?”

“Ermes is gonna go shopping for the new line of clothes that got released yesterday. She invited me and Emporio over saying it’s going to be ‘her treat’, but I know she’s lying,” Jolyne said, picking up a toast from her plate and another to offer her adopted brother.

“Is that pink-haired guy going?”

“His name’s Anasui dad and no, he’s not going,” she puffed her chest. “It’s girl’s day out today.” You and Jotaro looked at the blond boy beside her. “He’s not tagging along. I’m just dropping off Emporio at the nearby bookstore on the way out.”

“And I can find my way back no problem,” Emporio said as the teenager slowly pulled him with her to the door. “I won’t take too long.”

Jotaro still had his doubts from where he was on his seat, but knowing your little girl was able to survive a life of imprisonment and was able to get around the harsh facility, you smiled at her. “Alright. Be back by 9!”

“I will!”

Once the duo were out of sight, you and Jotaro were left alone to themselves. “Nothing like seeing your kids all grown up, huh?” You said as you took a bite of your eggs. He hummed a sound of acknowledgment. “But that just means we have the day to ourselves.”

At that, your husband couldn’t help but smile.

And just as you said, the rest of today consisted of simply staying indoors and “hanging-out” with each other in a life of old-couple domesticity. You cooked the meals and he washed the dishes. You did the laundry and he helped in folding them. You dusted the shelves and he vacuumed the floors. You picked today’s playlist to listen while doing chores and he chose what movie to watch.

Then there were instances in-between chores where either of you can’t help but hover close to one another, seeking each other’s touch and affections. May it be when you’re cooking and Jotaro passes by stealing a piece of sliced vegetable, you sneaking behind to pat his ass when he’s drying the plates, him momentarily resting his chin on your head as you wait for the washing machine to finish, him offering you a glass of water in the middle of dusting, or ending up in a never-ending banter over genres of media.

By the time they finished everything, including the short time freshening up, the afternoon began its transition to night as the skies changed its hue from blue to orange.

You shared one look with your husband and with one wistful stare, he rose a hand to you and you held it. With no worries plaguing your mind, you and Jotaro slowly walked down the stairs to the coast, hand-in-hand. A gentle breeze blew a strand of hair across your face and before you could, he tucked it behind your ear.

Both of you walked across the sand until you stopped a few meters away from the gentle waves.

Jotaro took the initiative to break apart from you, only to step behind and engulf your body with his long coat with his hands still in its pockets. You smiled and leaned back against his chest, closing your eyes as you do so.

For a few minutes, the couple simply stood by, basking in the ambiance- the refreshing sea breeze against your skin, the soothing crash of waves, the birds chirping above. The sea was your comfort place after all, and it was his too. Despite it being months later, you cherished every calm walk such as this as if it was the last.

You’ve never felt at peace this much. It was so nice.

“23 years…” You glanced up at Jotaro when he spoke. “For 23 years of us knowing each other, finally… Finally we can just live like this.”

You chuckled. “Makes it seem like we’ve just been married and this is our honeymoon even though it’s been years.”

“We’ve been fighting the world for most of our lives. Is it strange that until now, I’m still not used to this kind of ‘quiet’? As if I’m cautious that someone could appear at any moment?”

You shook your head, your gaze drifting to the horizon as you thought of your next words. “It’s not. It’ll take some time for us to adjust to this new normal. For all our habitual anxiety to disappear. Hell, it might not go away entirely.”

“But I can assure you this-”

You stepped out of his coat and turned to face him. From this angle, you looked at Jotaro with a smile bearing all the gooey fondness you had in your heart. Gingerly, you rose a hand to his face and with tender care, traced the vertical scar lining the right side of his face. From the top of his brow, down to his blind eye, until your fingers stopped at the bold line of his jaw.

Only then, your hand returned to cup his cheek with your thumb stroking the smooth line of his scar. “Whatever may happens next, I’ll be there with you. Work, people, lingering Stand users… I’ll stay by your side, hm?”

With hooded eyes, Jotaro leaned against your palm and laid his hand over yours. “I can’t say much to change your mind anyways.” He huffed. “You were always so stubborn.”

You chuckled. “You’re not wrong.”

Getting on to your tiptoes, you planted a soft kiss over his cheek, nose, and his lips last, to which you lingered on for a second longer. Pulling away, you wrapped your arms around him and buried your face on his chest.

“Our lives are finally ours, starlight.”

You closed your eyes as you felt him tuck his chin on top of you, an arm wrapping around your waist, and a hand caressing the back of your head.

“Then let’s live them together, sunshine.”

#jotaro x reader #jojos bizarre adventure #jjba #jotaro kujo #god i love writing domestic couple life like yes #give me that wholesome stuff me

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qqueenofhades · 2 years ago

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Hello! This is kind of a weird ask, I'm sorry to bother you, but seeing as you're a very intelligent studied historian that I deeply respect, I was hoping you could offer some advice? Or like, things i could read? Lately, i feel like my critical thinking skills are emaciated and its scaring the shit out of me. I feel very slow and like I'm constantly missing important info in relation to news/history/social activism stuff. Thats so vague, sorry, but like any tips on how i can do better?

Aha, thank you. There was recently a good critical-thinking infograph on my dash, so obviously I thought I remembered who reblogged it and checked their blog, it wasn't them, thought it was someone else, checked their blog, it also wasn't them, and now I can't find it to link to. Alas. But I will try to sum up its main points and add a few of my own. I'm glad you're taking the initiative to work on this for yourself, and I will add that while it can seem difficult and overwhelming to sort through the mass of information, especially often-false, deliberately misleading, or otherwise bad information, there are a few tips to help you make some headway, and it's a skill that like any other skill, gets easier with practice. So yes.

The first and most general rule of thumb I would advise is the same thing that IT/computer people tell you about scam emails. If something is written in a way that induces urgency, panic, the feeling that you need to do something RIGHT NOW, or other guilt-tripping or anxiety-inducing language, it is -- to say the least -- questionable. This goes double if it's from anonymous unsourced accounts on social media, is topically or thematically related to a major crisis, or anything else. The intent is to create a panic response in you that overrides your critical faculties, your desire to do some basic Googling or double-checking or independent verification of its claims, and makes you think that you have to SHARE IT WITH EVERYONE NOW or you are personally and morally a bad person. Unfortunately, the world is complicated, issues and responses are complicated, and anyone insisting that there is Only One Solution and it's conveniently the one they're peddling should not be trusted. We used to laugh at parents and grandparents for naively forwarding or responding to obviously scam emails, but now young people are doing the exact same thing by blasting people with completely sourceless social media tweets, clips, and other manipulative BS that is intended to appeal to an emotional gut rather than an intellectual response. When you panic or feel negative emotions (anger, fear, grief, etc) you're more likely to act on something or share questionable information without thinking.

Likewise, you do have basic Internet literacy tools at your disposal. You can just throw a few keywords into Google or Wikipedia and see what comes up. Is any major news organization reporting on this? Is it obviously verifiable as a fake (see the disaster pictures of sharks swimming on highways that get shared after every hurricane)? Can you right-click, perform a reverse image search, and see if this is, for example, a picture from an unrelated war ten years ago instead of an up-to-date image of the current conflict? Especially with the ongoing Israel/Palestine imbroglio, we have people sharing propaganda (particularly Hamas propaganda) BY THE BUCKETLOAD and masquerading it as legitimate news organizations (tip: Quds News Network is literally the Hamas channel). This includes other scuzzy dirtbag-left websites like Grayzone and The Intercept, which often have implicit or explicit links to Russian-funded disinformation campaigns and other demoralizing or disrupting fake news that is deliberately designed to turn young left-leaning Westerners against the Democrats and other liberal political parties, which enables the electoral victory of the fascist far-right and feeds Putin's geopolitical and military aims. Likewise, half of our problems would be solved if tankies weren't so eager to gulp down and propagate anything "anti-Western" and thus amplify the Russian disinformation machine in a way even the Russians themselves sometimes struggle to do, but yeah. That relates to both Russia/Ukraine and Israel/Palestine.

Basically: TikTok, Twitter/X, Tumblr itself, and other platforms are absolutely RIFE with misinformation, and this is due partly to ownership (the Chinese government and Elon Fucking Musk have literally no goddamn reason whatsoever to build an unbiased algorithm, and have been repeatedly proven to be boosting bullshit that supports their particular worldviews) and partly due to the way in which the young Western left has paralyzed itself into hypocritical moral absolutes and pseudo-revolutionary ideology (which is only against the West itself and doesn't think that the rest of the world has agency to act or think for itself outside the West's influence, They Are Very Smart and Anti-Colonialist!) A lot of "information" in left-leaning social media spaces is therefore tainted by this perspective and often relies on flat-out, brazen, easily disprovable lies (like the popular Twitter account insisting that Biden could literally just overturn the Supreme Court if he really wanted to). Not all misinformation is that easy to spot, but with a severe lack of political, historical, civic, or social education (since it's become so polarized and school districts generally steer away from it or teach the watered-down version for fear of being attacked by Moms for Liberty or similar), it is quickly and easily passed along by people wanting trite and simplistic solutions for complex problems or who think the extent of social justice is posting the Right Opinions on social media.

As I said above, everything in the world is complicated and has multiple factors, different influences, possible solutions, involved actors, and external and internal causes. For the most part, if you're encountering anything that insists there's only one shiningly righteous answer (which conveniently is the one All Good and Moral People support!) and the other side is utterly and even demonically in the wrong, that is something that immediately needs a closer look and healthy skepticism. How was this situation created? Who has an interest in either maintaining the status quo, discouraging any change, or insisting that there's only one way to engage with/think about this issue? Who is being harmed and who is being helped by this rhetoric, including and especially when you yourself are encouraged to immediately spread it without criticism or cross-checking? Does it rely on obvious lies, ideological misinformation, or something designed to make you feel the aforementioned negative emotions? Is it independently corroborated? Where is it sourced from? When you put the author's name into Google, what comes up?

Also, I think it's important to add that as a result, it's simply not possible to distill complicated information into a few bite-sized and easily digestible social media chunks. If something is difficult to understand, that means you probably need to spend more time reading about it and encountering diverse perspectives, and that is research and work that has to take place primarily not on social media. You can ask for help and resources (such as you're doing right now, which I think is great!), but you can't use it as your chief or only source of information. You can and should obviously be aware of the limitations and biases of traditional media, but often that has turned into the conspiracy-theory "they never report on what's REALLY GOING ON, the only information you can trust is random anonymous social media accounts managed by God knows who." Traditional media, for better or worse, does have certain evidentiary standards, photographing, sourcing, and verifying requirements, and other ways to confirm that what they're writing about actually has some correspondence with reality. Yes, you need to be skeptical, but you can also trust that some of the initial legwork of verification has been done for you, and you can then move to more nuanced review, such as wording, presentation of perspective, who they're interviewing, any journalistic assumptions, any organizational shortcomings, etc.

Once again: there is a shit-ton of stuff out there, it is hard to instinctively know or understand how to engage with it, and it's okay if you don't automatically "get" everything you read. That's where the principle of actually taking the time to be informed comes in, and why you have to firmly divorce yourself from the notion that being socially aware or informed means just instantly posting or sharing on social media about the crisis of the week, especially if you didn't know anything about it beforehand and are just relying on the Leftist Groupthink to tell you how you should be reacting. Because things are complicated and dangerous, they take more effort to unpick than just instantly sharing a meme or random Twitter video or whatever. If you do in fact want to talk about these things constructively, and not just because you feel like you're peer-pressured into doing so and performing the Correct Opinions, then you will in fact need to spend non-social-media time and effort in learning about them.

If you're at a university, there are often subject catalogues, reference librarians, and other built-in tools that are there for you to use and which you SHOULD use (that's your tuition money, after all). That can help you identify trustworthy information sources and research best practices, and as you do that more often, it will help you have more of a feel for things when you encounter them in the wild. It's not easy at first, but once you get the hang of it, it becomes more so, and will make you more confident in your own judgments, beliefs, and values. That way when you encounter something that you KNOW is wrong, you won't be automatically pressured to share it just to fit in, because you will be able to tell yourself what the problems are.

Good luck!

#coffeeandcoyotes #ask #school stuff #critical thinking

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parasolyaa · 6 months ago

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Hi!! How are you doing?

I saw your post inviting asks and something I've been wondering is, if you could tell me about some things from Misha's childhood that are unique to Ukraine which he might feel nostalgic for as a young adult (snacks, toys, kids tv shows, etc)?

Thank you for the informative posts you make, you're awesome ☺️

hi!! i'm doing good tysm!!! couldn't be otherwise after getting an ask from the most legendary artist in this fandom, i adore your ricky art!! i'll use this post as an excuse to yap endlessly about random media that will mostly be irrelevant, but also a peek into that time and place. sort of.

the epithome of ukrainian childhood nostalgia is zhyvchyk: both a drink and a tv show (which is just an advertisement for that drink). it’s a bubbly apple soda, in other words - a drink of gods.

(also fun fact: after russia occupied crimea, they tried to make their own version of zhychyk there. they called it zhyvunchik and the only design change was that they ??cut off the arms of the mascot?? since zhyvchyk basically means “lively guy”, it was kinda ironic)

other drinks he’d definitely miss would be kvas and kompot (obligatory laughing and giggling when he calls it cumpot).

starting off with more traditional snacks, i envision young misha with a necklace of booblycks (obligatory laughing and giggling when he calls it booblicks)

also any roshen candy! (obligatory laughing and giggling when he mentions the nut out chocolates) (they indeed are called that) (they are pretty recent tho). the undying classic is crazy bee and shypuchka/fizzy boom (the darker green design is the older one).

also there are some fancy sets, associated with holidays or family gettogethers. strila/arrow, kyiv evening and kyiv cake

the thing misha would DEFINETELY love and miss is flint ?bread chips?, this is an unmatched snack. once again, darker green design is the older one, and also with a pretty wild taste. there is a big variety of those.

ukrainian childhood cartoons were mostly distributed among three channels - pixel, plusplus and malyatko tv (disney, nickelodeon and cartoon network were here too, but no point in talking abt them now). the first two usually broadcastered whatever cartoons from around the world were relevant at the time (ukrainian dub for ducktales was unmatched!!), and also a few ukrainian things. i will highlight "abetka tivi" (alphabet tv) from pixel. it was, well, a show about learning the alphabet. "auntie owl’s lessons" was another one, and there were much more episodes, usually about famous art, world history and etiquette.

on plusplus, there was a show called "fairytale with dad", in which male celebrities read out fairytales to children. something about healing daddy issues with this one. also there is a whole plusplus cinematic universe, because this show sometimes intervened with another original show of theirs about ??shapes going on adventures??. and there was a show called useful suggestions, which was universally disliked by kids for being too on the nose about the life lessons they were trying to teach.

and then there was malyatko tv. when it stopped broadcasting in 2023, everyone weeped and so did i. there were vibrant music videos, eg "turtle aha", "helper boy" (self PR for my fic with that name. sorry.) and other. and, even though this wasn’t original ukrainian content, i feel the need to mention this: malyatko tv often showed some old anime cartoons - "haidi", "pocahontas" and others. ukrainian opening dubs were ethereal. to me.

there also were old cartoon classics (broadcasted on a creepy channel called children's world, an ugly sibling of malyatko tv) - the “how cossacks” series and “there once was a dog", but there were tons more.

(also this made me remember another long-gone channel called Qtv. basically what the cool kids watched, it also shows up in every tiktok #ukrainechildhood #nostalgia #2000s video. it's showed simpsons and stuff and had cheeky editing, eg in an advertisement for death note they only showed spongebob clips to make it look like he was kira. pretty funny imo)

peak nostalgia is the show "країна у" (country u? krayina u? untranslatable title), which is a dumb sketch show consisting of shows on its own about people from different regions of ukraine. bringing this up because odesa was one of them, and, no matter if misha disliked this show or not, this definetely impacted his childhood. the schtik about "once upon in odesa" was that there were four guys in odesa and uuuuh that's it? i don't remember much about it tbh ...

there were also popular reality tv shows and stuff, i really really wanna highlight "the world inside out". it's a travel show about this dude dmytro komarov getting to most remote an unique places in the world. don't get me wrong, he was being an idiot half the time, but it was peak entertainment. he uploaded old episodes with english dub on youtube and now does charity work. props to him

back to cartoons, "fox mykyta" was a nice, more modern cartoon. it's vaguely based on ivan franko's book with the same name, which in turn is vaguely based on "the blue jackal". speaking of books, ukrainian school literature programe is traumatising asf, and i just need to mention "fedko-brigand". it's a short story about a young boy who misbehaved but only lied once, when he took the blame for pushing a rich boy in the river, which he didn't do. it's also the reason why ukrainian 5th graders all spent at least one night crying, and since rereading it, i just keep thinking about misha. i feel like he'd relate

i'm convinced every ukrainian child had this specific "abetka"(alphabet) book with rhymes to every letter. the "а-ба-ба-га-ла-ма-га" publishing house never fails with their illustrations.

also probably the most popular children's books are the ones by vsevolod nestayko, eg "toreadors from vasyukivka" and "wonderful adventures in the forest school".

about games and toys, i honestly can't recall any ukraine specific ones except "this thing but slavic!" (monopoly ukraine, stuff like that). motanka dolls count as an original toy. out of computer games, maybe the most popular one at the time - "stalker: shadow of chornobyl"? some irony in that. real life games tho? the only difference between the games of tag and kvach is the name. "сossacks and bandits" maybe... there's a bl comic with the same name btw, and i also think that's the only place where you can find the rules for it in english lol. or google translate the wikipedia page.

misha lived by the sea, so he probably played a lot of games on water, other than that - all the same things american kids experience. generally my main advise when thinking about misha's childhood is to remember he had all the same things people in uranium did, excluding canada specific media. after auntie owl's lessons came ninja turtles, and after eating flint bread chips it was only natural to sip coca cola.

also i can advise to just look up "ukraine nostalgia"/"дитинство ностальгія" on tiktok. half the time it will be uncomprehensive stuff, and the other half might be something that'd help shape the view of what it was like. this is an invitation to ask more specific things and also for my ukrainian mutuals to add on because i only scratched the surface. hope it was useful or somewhat interesting xd

#i linked the stuff i could find in english #ride the cyclone #misha not mischa #misha bachynskyi #rtc #talya bolinska #talia bolinska #talya rtc #talia rtc #misha rtc

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slowd1ving · 11 months ago

Text

✦ II. COME HITHER, CURSE WHERE HE LIES

"This was the tale of the seventh prince; an elegy hidden from the footnotes of history. Within the game Lament of Ouroboros, his sorrows were summarised thusly: A strangely warm vein of ore. Hero, come here when dusk kisses the edge of the Borderlands. As your palm brushes against the rock, you may be able to feel the pulse of a slumbering prince. Three sentences were all that was afforded to the disgraced prince, forgotten to all but the Moirai." • . * cursed prince ratio + alchemist m reader rough design for minoan fashion ratio here warnings: video game violence, death? kind of? tyranny (are we surprised), male-coded reader (or at least the in-game avatar is), depictions of gore, turning into stone wc: 4.2k

LAMENT OF OUROBOROS MASTERLIST

HONKAI STAR RAIL MASTERLIST

MASTERLIST ・゜・NAVIGATION

It took all of one year for the warning to become prophecy. One year, approximately four hundred and eight days—give or take—for the two Suns to align themselves in the exact arrangement they had on the Day of Silence. And in that single year, the schemes of Veritas Ratio would germinate, blossom, and finally wither away irrelevantly.

He was born quietly, and thus his end would, too, be quiet.

The month of Hekatombaion had the seventh prince leave his tower: like a bird set free from its gilded cage. Though he was never caged, per se, the youth knew it was safest to stay in its stone walls: away from the all-consuming, bloody struggle for the throne, away from the greedy claws of his siblings and their power-hungry gazes. Yes, it was far easier being a shunned seventh prince than getting swept up in the tides of fatal politics.

Fatal, indeed—the internal strife had already claimed the lives of two of his siblings. He was the fifth prince, if one regarded the situation objectively—but it was better to lurk in the oblivion. Seven was a less significant number than five, after all.

Hekatombaion was the month of venture. The Day of Silence had occurred in its beginning; the day to mark the new year, where the blank canvas of muteness would sluggishly accumulate the sins and sorrows of the populace in the coming days and weeks. Like honey trickling over sweet basyniai, the seventh prince would begin to spread his own influence to achieve his saccharine conclusion.

So, the youth ventured forth—though not into the bloody palace, but the summer-worn streets and the agora. Past the stands selling their wares, and the philosophers sermonising on the achromatic cobblestones, were those conducting business and students of the various schools in Metis. The work and school day had shortly ended—the evening of debates and discourse had just begun.

Without the gilt laurels which suggested his status as one of Elation’s blood, he was no more prince than he was peasant. The drape of his clothes and their exceptional craftsmanship did, however, mark him as a wealthy man—perfect for infiltrating the symposium of a guileless young master.

Thus, the prince incognito began frequenting these conferences and gleaning precious information and gossip from the drunken fools who sought to boast of their knowledge and logos. Their fallacies were awful for entertainment, but Veritas was very grateful for how witless their lips were. All the news, rumours, and information passed around students and teachers alike were his for the taking: the rudimentary designs from which he would craft his weapon. From these anserine gatherings with peers a few years older than him he crafted a network of the politics of the kingdom: who sat behind and whispered to the magistrates; who supported the polemarch and just who was responsible for the military advancements of the archon in charge of armed forces; and finally, the influence of Aha and his siblings on the spread of the kingdom.

These were the preliminary preparations for investigating the ruling class of Metis.

Metageitnion was the month for thanksgiving. The seventh prince’s presence at the mess hall was nothing out of the ordinary, then, for the arid weather heralded festivities and games where his attendance was expected—if not mandated. As opportunistic as he was for information, he naturally assumed his place below his siblings: slightly sycophantic, yet assuredly not a threat.

Dried figs melted on his tongue—a mellifluous snack he’d consumed plenty of in his tower, but tasted especially cloying as praises flowed from his mouth like honeyed wine. His siblings, vain as they were, dangerous as they were, liked observing how their shunned brother cowed neatly before them. Though, the watered-down liquor they ingested was nowhere near enough to loosen their lips on matters of heresy; another span of days passed without gaining information. In its stead, he established himself as a vapid fool with no interest in scrabbling for the throne: a slippery, cowardly bastard who simply wasn’t worth the effort to kill off.

Had they paid attention to the glowing reports from his tutors, had they cared an iota for anyone but themselves, they might have noticed that his smarts didn’t just extend to backing off from the throne. Perhaps then, they would have surmised that the compliments and agreements uttered with his smiles were strategic more than anything.

But his tower was isolated from the main palace, and he was no more a danger than a caged bird.

A fool, just like the rest of them. Alas, his gormless act perhaps was a bit too convincing—the siblings in the know wouldn’t entrust state secrets to someone who appeared as imbecilic as he did. Nonetheless, they grew accustomed to seeing him, and his presence where they were no longer seemed unusual.

This was how Veritas tactically placed himself onto the petteia board as a piece that could no longer be overlooked.

Boedromion was a month of aid, so the prince decided to extend a hand to those seeking help in the assembly. From behind the scenes, he handpicked those he needed for his investigation: those who had the ear of the archon in charge of the military, those who worked in administrative wings of the palace, those who could be moulded into perfect aides for his siblings. He observed the strata unable to speak up, unable to assert themselves in the agora, unable to hold any sway of their own.

It was no altruism when he pulled them aside. Into their minds he painted himself as the benevolent saviour; the silver tongue who gave them their voice in the assembly back. In return, they turned themselves to pieces on his game board. Hence, he gained valuable information and more reliable rumours to investigate about the imperial family. Who to talk to, who to bribe, who to follow when the twin suns dipped below the horizon and the moon embraced the sky once more.

These were the new connections the seventh prince forged—a net far more sound than the ramshackle collection of drunken scholars and fools from the symposia.

Pyanopsion was the month of harvest, so his Highness watched his efforts fruit into an audience with Aha. The drunkard was shrewd—far too clever for someone rumoured to be an imbecile—therefore the seventh prince bowed before the sovereign and spoke no honeyed platitudes to THEM. When the king asked for his thoughts on the assembly, he answered honestly—and THEY guffawed with THEIR chalice in hand. When the king asked for his opinion of the people, he answered fraudulently—and THEY ruffled his amaranth locks with a hand that felt far too distant for a father.

What are people, if not tools for the Elation?

There is no greater joy for them than serving us on this grand stage.

Do you not agree, your Majesty?

Lie after lie dripped from his composed mouth. Even as he thought of the bright children running through sun-dappled streets, even as he thought of the beaming pedlars and their wares, even as he thought of the joy in the ordinary, mundane families he came across in the synoikiai—all these mentations came to a halt behind his expression. In those three sentences, his heart had hardened against THEM: as THEY smiled, as THEY affectionately broke bread with him, as THEY gestured for sweet wine to be poured into his cup.

The youngest prince was no longer a mere prince but Aha’s son; an acknowledgement that only served to disgust the youth further.

How vile.

And though his goal was reached, this was how the Elation successfully alienated itself to Veritas.

Maimakterion was the month of cold, and so the prince retreated to the stone palace for the first time since childhood. Past nightfall, he breached the lax security of the grand library and accessed its restricted section. All his manoeuvring, all his alliances and mind-numbing conversations—it was worth it to finally enter this place once more.

There, in a forgotten corner that seemed more sepulchral than even the mausoleum, the seventh prince found what he had searched for. Penned in faded ink that he could barely see even with the light enchantment, was proof of collusion between the imperial family and the so-called ‘heretics’.

This was the point in time where his Highness felt the most vindicated towards the venerable Sophos and THEIR mockery.

This was also the point in time where his Highness could no longer step off the path he had chosen.

“Do you think he can feel it?” The maiden idly twined threads past HER fingers, for it was far more entertaining to see a mortal walk towards his doom with a head held high. “Surely there must be some sense of ill portent.”

“The men most arrogant are least prepared for their end, Clotho,” the mother rebuked, but the syllables were about as harsh as spring butterflies—for SHE, too, anticipated the boy’s expression as he stared into the face of his own hamartia.

“Hubris!” the hag cackled, yet the tremble of HER deathly grin belied the ever-present tears that traced the weary lines of HER face. “What a terrible conclusion.”

For the Moirai, this fate was nothing more than a short-lived, tragic play.

And so, the month of Posideon passed quickly for both the three and the prince. The information inked into the yellowed scrolls was his proverbial labyrinthine thread, tugging his body to his salvation. Through the throngs of regular humans, his path was etched towards the harbingers of heresy: alchemists and their ilk.

Throughout these days, he hardly thought of Sophos Nous at all; yet the familiar sensation of exoneration remained. He would prove himself before THEM; he was ready to put Aha to trial in front of the assembly if need be.

The archontes were not infallible.

This fact applied to Aha especially.

When he probed those labelled as heretics, he was bitterly reminded that this wasn’t their fault. They were not the lawmakers, nor were they those with choice. Victims. Shackled to the Elation, their actions were akin to those of a puppet: pushed towards their day of reckoning by a force far superior to their own.

Thus, the seventh prince worked tirelessly. Through the short days, through the long nights—he toiled away in his tower. He compiled sets of arguments, practised endless logos, drafted out the evidence necessary to condemn those at fault within the upper echelons of Metis.

Gamelion came and went. Under the guise of a serving boy and some forbidden enchantments, Veritas walked the long stretches of the palace with nothing but worn sandals on his feet. He traced its ancient mosaics: memorising the old walkways and floor plans gifted by one of his acquaintances. For preparation was the friend of success, and the prince was nothing if not successful in his endeavours.

It all led up to this night—stepping into the room sequestered from any official floor plan.

“Look at him,” the maiden cooed. The spindle in HER cruel hands stilled momentarily—for a brief while, none were born. Though, this was an insignificant deviance in the tapestry of humanity: far too quick for anyone to realise. “Has he realised he’s out of his depth yet?”

“Hardly,” the matron scoffed. “He’s ablaze with self-righteous anger, as it were. Surely he could not have been ignorant of the sins on his own blood-kin’s hands?”

“Lachesis,” the hag warned. “Keep silent and enjoy the act.”

“Don’t tell me you feel sympathetic, Atropos?” the mother sneered, for it was ludicrous that the Moirai felt any sort of attachment to humanity. To fairly allot, the reason for THEIR very existence, was no longer possible if any bias was introduced to any of them.

“Hardly,” the crone muttered. HER sentimentality would not affect HER role in this universe; just as it had been before, and as it would be after, HER shears would continue their severing of life from humans.

The three were rapt as the prince gazed around the hall. Every turbulent beat of his heart, every miniscule grit of his molars, every bitter fist his sinuous hands made—all of his reactions were carefully documented, since a tragic hero like him had not been observed for an age and then some.

It was by no means a modest room. The circumference of the marble spanned the equivalent of the large temple dedicated to the Elation, propped up by frieze-decorated columns. Stone reliefs etched into the walls depicted the rise of his lineage; they were intertwined with a sickening repertoire of mythos that they had no place against. Heroes of the old gleamed bright against his family’s wickedness—so utterly out of place he couldn’t help but gaze foully at the castings.

Turned yonder, and the door through which he came glinted with the tell-tale light of an enchantment: a rippling string of formulae that indicated the space warping which enveloped this place. Yes, although the archon had expressly forbidden use of enchantments, they clearly had no qualms about taking the knowledge for their own gain.

For the Elation is above the law.

Past the vast anteroom was another door; this one, too, distended and undulated under his piercing gaze. Or rather, the silent movement of his mouth as he shattered its illusions and breached its innermost chamber—and this one was the one which struck him still.

The seventh prince could only watch, horrified, as the expanse of terror unfolded before him. There was no escape from the sight, not unless his eyes were plucked out of his skull.

Aeons.

There was no space unblemished by golden cadavers. Cadavers, for statues surely wouldn’t possess faces distorted in crazed screams and bodies contorted in the most despicable of agonies. Cadavers, for surely their pain had ended—he prayed they were dead within their metallic shell, he prayed their souls had departed the material world, he prayed that his presence didn’t disturb their rest any further.

Bile rested bitter in his mouth, and he struggled not to let the acrid film swirl into vomit—for his stomach churned and his palms grew clammy at the sight.

These were the supposed threats to the Elation—innocents whose only crime had been to be against the tyranny of his family.

For their dissent, they’d been dipped in molten gold—either dying through the intense heat, or slowly withering away as the alchemy chipped away at their flesh.

Both options were equally horrifying. The seventh prince’s vision swam, and he barely made it back to his tower before his legs finally gave out.

Yes, the prince had gained the knowledge he finally needed to take down his family, but at what cost?

Deep inside, he already knew the heavy feeling in his heart was the price he was beginning to pay.

If only he knew the fate allotted to him at the end of this thorny path.

Anthesterion trickled by slow as a fat bee. Sluggish. Every second was prolonged, every moment was accompanied by his racing pulse and adrenaline-stricken brain. No longer did he need to act the cowed prince—for before his siblings, his mouth grew dry and his pupils constricted into mere pinpricks.

When he glanced at his sister, he saw the golden woman who’d wept with her body curled in on herself: shoulders hunched to her ears, hands sharpened into desperate claws (gouging at her flesh, since everyone knew pain nullified pain—and what greater anguish was there than losing your very body to aureate?). She’d writhed in her last moments; the harrowing movements had sent shockwaves all throughout the security enchantments.

He could taste her tears.

When he stared at his three brothers, he also stared at the man who had ripped off his own arm to escape his inescapable fate. He stared at the blood that had pooled like gilt on the marble floor, for not even his most ardent lifeblood could evade the disgusting talons of his kin. He stared at the expression of horror the man had: eyes bulging out of their sockets, mouth twisted to an excruciating scream, and a wretched gaze afflicting him.

He could feel the oily sanguine dripping from his own hands.

He could no longer escape his siblings either.

They relished in the iron grip they had over the city. They revelled in the generated fear. They savoured their long talks—talks which Veritas was now privy to, talks in which he did his best not to heave up the fruit in his stomach and the bilious film that now perpetually dwelled on his tongue. He was reviled, but they indulged in their craving for petrification with a particular sapidity that broke him down—over and over and over until he could no longer smell anything that didn’t carry the stench of copper.

That was perhaps the month in which the seventh prince grew the most ill.

Elaphebolion trailed its ghostly fingers around his neck like a noose. He grew careless in his haste to put his family before trial: left too many loose ends, made too many connections, and drew the attention of far too many eyes.

It didn’t take long for his tower to truly become the cage of his metaphor.

No, it took less than three days from his last meeting with an informant to find the door to his tower securely locked. Overnight, while the seventh prince restlessly slumbered, wrought bars enclosed his windows in one final trap.

Thus, the prince was prince no longer, but a bird with its wings clipped forevermore.

But that was not the end of it—for if it was, his life-thread would not have been seeped with the bloodiest of carmines.

Mounichion was when Aha finally came to visit THEIR wayward son.

Join me, THEY offered—though Veritas knew THEIR proffered hand was no salvation, but puppet strings that would attach to his own. For the ceaseless entertainment of the Elation, this was perhaps the greatest mercy Aha could extend: to become a dull marionette in this gilded cage until only his bones were strung up for all to ridicule.

And when THEIR son’s incensed gaze did not waver, THEY sighed.

Maddened with grief, boy? THEY mocked the look in his irises—once as bright and sweet as cherries, now dulled to the hue of dried blood.

Kill me, those numbed eyes seemed to respond—but futilely, the youth wanted to live.

“I’ve something much better, son.”

Mounichion was thus the month of confinement, where Aha planted a short-lived weed of hope that sprung up in the cracks of the prince’s heart—and withered just as quickly.

Thar-gelion was when Veritas avoided death, but lost many things in return.

It had started off small. His vision began to blur somewhat, but he chalked it to confinement in his tower. Even when he crafted himself ocular lenses and fitfully forced himself to sleep in the topmost room, there were moments in which the edges of his sight faded and greyed with a frequency that slowly increased.

He browsed anatomical manuscripts. When the light from the twin Suns was particularly dim, he struck the oil-lamps with crude enchantments and perused their words as though they held the key to his answers—yet the lack of solutions was not enough to alarm him.

It should’ve been.

His sense of smell was next to mute, though this was a far more subtle difference than his sight. Being confined to a particular area would obviously force one to grow accustomed to its ins and outs—including the odours and various scents of it. It wasn’t a problem, until one day Veritas Ratio noticed he could no longer quite smell the papery fragrance of his scrolls, nor the rich tang of his ink.

Yet still, he ignored the warning signs. After all, he was preparing for his eventual execution.

Naturally, his taste palate, too, had dulled due to his weakening olfactory sense. Although, this loss was far less profound than one might have anticipated—but it made all too much sense if one took into consideration his status as a prince awaiting judgement. Feed him enough so he survives. A few pieces of flatbread, some cheese, and one or two bruised handfuls of dried fruits were dropped through the bars daily—along with a skin of sour wine—much like feeding a wild bird when it had not yet been tamed enough for the door to open. These various foodstuffs were bland enough that it wouldn’t have made a difference if he could taste either way.

Thus, the prince simply did not notice this sense fading.

The next sense to take leave was his hearing, and this time he did feel the difference. His balance was affected, though he surmised that was due to the lack of nutrients his body received. But when the fragile rustle of paper against his fingers stopped registering; when the tell-tale thump of his heart in the silence of his room grew silent; when he could no longer hear his own neurotic waves of breathing—this was when the seventh prince realised something was dreadfully wrong.

He’d screamed himself hoarse, tearing at his skin with his nails to wake from this forsaken dream—only to no longer feel his crescent nails digging into flesh.

No. No.

Air came shallow to the prince as his fading eyes desperately fixated on the blood welled on his arms. He could not feel the wounds. He could not smell the metallic crimson dripping in rivulets. He could not hear the hasty, panicked breaths and his racing pulse. And finally, when he put his mouth to staunch the flow, he could not taste the acrid tang on his palate either.

And so, the prince spent the month of Thar-gelion slowly losing his mind.

Skirophorion was when it came to a bitter end.

In those days, His Highness barely left his bed. Sleep was now the only respite; he could no longer read his books, he could no longer pore over his beloved tools, and he could no longer support his weakening body. Any meals were now delivered far more sporadically; alas, the prince rarely ever ate.

Death was imminent.

His mind had long since given up, and his body was sure to follow.

Any day now. Veritas could only count the seconds, the minutes and the hours—no longer could the youth cross the days off, not when his joints and limbs had petrified.

Death was a mercy the prince would not receive.

It was when Aha next visited THEIR son at the tower that Veritas truly learnt of the state he was in.

No, he was no longer at his tower. That was a lie—a last comfort afforded to the prince.

Poor child, all of this suffering could have been avoided, Aha’s message burst bright in his dulled mind. He thought he felt his index finger twitch.

Would you like to see what you look like? The golden impression faded, as though Aha was waiting for the prince to answer. Well, I suppose you can’t answer either way.

A sort of horrified fascination lingered in the scholar’s mind. Had his flesh, too, been transmuted to an aureate statue?

Did you think you’d join your people as one of MY sculptures? The question shook sympathetically, or maybe it was a dry laugh as the king looked on at THEIR pitiful son.

No, child, you deserve a tragic end befitting MY line.

And thus, the youth blindly awaited his judgement.

Death shall never end thee, for madness will be thy salvation.

No longer did he sense Aha’s presence.

Rather, one last image was transmitted through the king’s enchantment—a cliffside, in which Veritas could faintly see his own features carved into the rock. Then, nothing.

The stone smoothed out, and his image was struck from history forevermore.

. 　⁺ ✦

When the next Day of Silence came and went, the prince was truly mute. He had no mouth, after all—so not a scream left him.

The only thing he had left were his thoughts: one last, final burden.

Is this the cost YOU foresaw, Nous?

Veritas Ratio’s arrogance was no more. And so, the prince’s story came to a swift, acrimonious end. No, not end, for that implied that he was not shackled to limbo. Bound to neither gold nor a statue, he would spend the rest of time waiting to be purified of his sins—for gold was finality. Gold was the most sacrosanct form of death he had not been afforded.

And as the prince continued to count away the seconds, the minutes, the hours and eventually the years which trickled past in the hourglass, only insanity awaited him.

This was the tale of the seventh prince; an elegy hidden from the footnotes of history.

Within the game Lament of Ouroboros, his sorrows were summarised thusly:

A strangely warm vein of ore.

Hero, come here when dusk kisses the edge of the Borderlands. As your palm brushes against the rock, you may be able to feel the pulse of a slumbering prince.

Three sentences were all that was afforded to the disgraced prince, forgotten to all but the Moirai.

Three sentences were how his tragedy was retold.

Three sentences, a final insult to the most pitiful of princes.

. 　⁺ ✦

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