#Awakening Sounds if Insight

[zegalba]

Masaaki Miyazawa: Awakening Sounds if Insight (1984)

[mariasont]

What if I put an insane little idea in your head and let it bounce around? Mid seasons (7/8 ish?) Spencer with a kinnda sorta fangirl? She just started at the BAU and it’s not that she’s weird about him but she does have like 3 of his papers memorized down to the letter and she “possibly quoted him on her college application essay” (it’s the literal conclusion).

Like she’s just this little ball of excitement and he has no clue what to do when the team is like “ask her out for the love of god and stop making heart eyes when she lets you nerd out”

Sorry if this makes no sense it’s 2:30 in the morning

FANGIRL - S.R

a/n: AHHHHH BECAUSE WHAT IF I JUST SMOOCHED YOU

loved, loved, LOVED this idea and writing it! you are amazing <3

masterlist

pairings: spencer reid x fem!reader

warnings: reader being a fangirl for reid because WHO WOULDNT BE UGH

wc: 1.2k

"Dr. Reid, hi, it's such an honor. I'm the new agent."

You give him your name, hand extended out to him, bouncing off the balls of your feet. There was a badge pinned to your shirt, the clip attached to it gleaming in the fluorescent light, which despite its usual severity, seemed to soften around you.

Spencer comes to a standstill, his coffee suspended mid-sip, documents wrinkled in his hands as he assesses you. You are pretty. exceedingly so, but he's having trouble processing it, his mind still shrouded in the remnants of sleep. 

He blinks away his surprise. "Nice to meet you. Hotch must've briefed you about the team, I assume?"

He adjusted the heap of papers to under his arm, freeing his hand to meet yours. The softness he encountered prompted a momentary pause, awakening a sudden urge to not let go. However, he promptly set aside the thought, releasing your hand with a concealed hesitation. 

You fiddled with your earlobe, you shot him a sheepish smile. "Yeah, Hotch did, but I already knew a bit about you. I've always been a fan of your work. I mean, not like a fan per se, because that would be weird, right? But I've read all your papers, and they're just... they're brilliant, honestly."

Spencer was clearly caught off guard, his brows leaping upwards as he surveyed you. You weren't lying--that much was clear to him. He could see it in the way you met his eyes with an enthusiasm so bright it was nearly blinding.

"My work? You're actually familiar with it?"

A soft giggle bubbled from you, a sweet sound that seemed to momentarily leave him winded. He placed his coffee on the desk, leaning back slightly. 

"Oh, definitely. Your research on chemical composition analysis in narcotics? I've read it so many times I could probably recite it in my sleep."

He considered the possibility of you exaggerating. He took great pride in his work and (without sounding too cocky) he was well aware of its significance and contribution to his field. However, there's a difference between knowing your work is recognized and encountering someone who has internalized it to such a degree--especially someone like you. He suddenly felt a touch of self-consciousness.

"I'm sorry, that was too much, right? I promised I'd play it cool, and then I saw you and... well, it's all just really surreal," you said before gesturing vaguely towards the bullpen. "Anyway, I'm going to go, uh, find my desk."

You hurried away before he could refute your words, head bowed. He felt like an ass.

The day threw him off balance. His contributions to the team lacked their usual insight, his mental gears turning more slowly. And for some inexplicable reason, he found himself preoccupied with thoughts of you. He attempted to rationalize it as a reaction to your interest in his work, a level of admiration that was a rare find. Unlike the formal niceties from others, your excitement about his work, about him, stood out.

He tried to latch onto Hotch's deductions about the unsub, willing his intellect to snap to attention and offer up a decent theory. However, a glance in your direction derailed his efforts. You were bent over the desk, your hands animatedly navigating through the papers. He was happy to see your enthusiasm was there despite his lack thereof earlier.

"Based on the geographic profiling and the choice of victims, it looks like the unsub has a background in urban planning."

Emily nods, "Good theory. What led you to that?"

He watches the anxious flicker in your eyes, glancing towards him, hands clasped together as you incline your head his way.

"Actually, I read about a similar case in Dr. Reid's paper on The Spatial Patterns of Serial Offenses." It strikes him then--he hasn't yet invited you to use his first name, adding another tick to the ever-growing list of ways he feels he's been inadvertently discourteous. "The clustering of crime scenes near arterial routes suggests the offender leverages the urban grid to facilitate escape and avoid detection. Embarrassingly enough, that was the topic of my college application essay."

Spencer was momentarily speechless (not something that happened often), his mind racing through the physiological response to shock--catecholamine release, vagal tone alterations, even transient arrhythmias--mirroring the way his heart seemed to skip a beat. You really did have his work memorized.

"That's, uh, right," he said, his voice gaining momentum. "By leveraging the urban grid, the offender not only evades capture but also creates a psychological terrain of control."

Hotch nodded in agreement, turning your attention to a series of photographs.

Before Spencer even looked her way, he could sense Garcia's stare, and as he turned, she prodded him with her elbow, smirking. "Seems like she's quite the match for you, doesn't she?"

"Huh? What? No, I mean--she's my coworker, and besides, she's much younger." Spencer was quite sure he sounded anything but convincing.

Garcia raises an eyebrow, shaking her head. "I meant in terms of smarts, but oookay, Spencer."

She walked out with a bounce in that definitely hadn't been there earlier, and Spencer was left with a red face.

He had every intention of pulling you aside, to apologize for earlier, to reassure that he didn't find you odd or weird, and to admit that he was genuinely flattered. But it appeared that every time he had a chance to make it to your desk, you had vanished, or were in deep conversation with JJ, or inside Hotch's office.

It was a relentless cycle that persisted until the end of the day, when everyone began to leave--except for you, who remained still firmly planted at your desk, fervently jotting notes into your notebook.

Absorbed in your work, you didn't notice his approach until he cleared his throat.

"Hey," he said softly.

Startled, you flinched, prompting him to immediately feel like shit. Strike three. You laughed off the shock when you realized it was him, moving your notebook aside, offering him your undivided attention.

"Sorry, Dr. Reid, hi! How's it going? Is there something I can do for you?"

"I thought I'd see if you needed help with anything, and you can call me Spencer, if you want." He glanced at his watch. "Are you still working?"

You pushed a piece of hair from your face and nodded towards the formidable pile of forms. 

"Spencer, okay," you said, like you were testing it out, "and just sorting through a mountain of onboarding paperwork."

He nodded, hesitating slightly before speaking. "Listen, I need to apologize for earlier."

You tilted your head. "What for?"

"I think I wasn't as welcoming as I intended to be."

"That's okay, I know I was a bit intense."

He shook his head. "No, you weren't. It's just... It's rare that my work gets much attention. I'm happy you appreciated it. If there's a specific topic that you're more interested in, maybe I could explain more about it sometime?"

You glanced down at your hands, trying to hide the smile that was blooming there. You weren't successful. When you looked back up, Spencer felt a little bit awestruck by your eyes, the flecks of color that he could now see clearly.

"I'd love that. Maybe over coffee?" you suggested.

"Yeah, sure." He could feel the heat rushing up his neck. 

He reluctantly parted ways, leaving you to your paperwork, and as he approached the elevator, Penelope was there.

"You know, sugar, maybe I did mean quite the match in a romantic way. So, are you going to ask her out, or shall I play Cupid?"

He blushed. "I think she might have just beat me to it."

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join my taglist here!

[rockatanskette]

So, I've written before about how our relationship with predators would probably intimidate aliens, but I just pictured another way we interact with predators that is honestly just as scary from an outside perspective: we pretend to be predators and even make up new ones, all just for fun.

Now, we also adopt predator patterns for utility: wearing striped makeup for camouflage, imitating roars and bird calls, etc. But I'm specifically talking about the video I just saw from Creature Bionics of creature rigs designed for a human actor to better do motion capture. I'm talking about voice actors and sound designers creating new and terrifying clicks and roars and growls because lions' roars just aren't scary enough. I'm talking about adults dressing up as plush monstrosities to entertain sports fans and children. Gritty is terrifying, objectively.

One day at an early meal, human Janet seems confused when her alien crewmates start asking about a shape-shifting monster that they keep seeing in human culture. They ask her what it's like to live on a world with "dogjons;" animals that can shift from a fan-headed creature with eye-covered wings to an amphibious eel-like figure, humanoid but not human, to a death-pale monstrosity that chases anyone who dares get near its food. Human Janet is confused until they say that the pale figure has eyes in its hands; bloodshot, and glassy.

"Oh, Doug Jones! No, he's not a monster, he's just a really good actor. Too good—the Shape of Water awakened something in me, specifically."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, let's just say the lady 'mating' with him isn't a horror story, it's a fantasy." Human Janet says, like it's nothing. Then something seems to occur to her, and her eyes brighten with what the aliens are quickly learning is mischief. "Oh my god. Am I the one who gets to explain monster fucking?"

Elsewhere, an alien accompanies xis human friend on a day out with their young. There's some kind of show being put on for human youth and Xlibthar is excited for this insight into how humans get Like That. Imagine xis surprise when the lights go up on the entertainment platform and a horde of creatures rushes up. They are large and bright yellow, with big black eyes as dark as singularities, with bright red spots on their heads that clearly indicate venom. Xlibthar shrieks and shields xisself behind Akio and Hinata, sure that something has gone terribly wrong.

"What are those?!" Xlibthar demands, quaking in xis shoes.

"Those? Oh, they're just Pikachus." Akio does not seem even the slightest bit distressed, and five-year-old Hinata is absolutely losing her mind with excitement at the sight of these garish monstrosities.

"What. On Earth." Because this could only happen on Earth. "Is a Pikachu?"

"It's a Pocket Monster. It's a series about monsters that battle with each-other. Pikachu is a mouse that can shoot electricity out of its body."

Xlibthar stares at Akio, wondering if this is an example of what humans call "gaslighting," because keeping monsters in your pockets sounds too insane even for humans. And, "you bring these things around your CHILDREN??"

"I mean, they're not real." Akio puts his hands over Hinata's ears. "They're just people in costumes. Though Nintendo would never let you see one with its head off."

Xlibthar has many questions: why? What? How? What? But one question has been answered: if this is what entertains human youth, it is exactly why Humans are Like That.

[writingduhh]

Hello love :)

I was wondering if you’d write about Schlatt meeting y/n at a coffee shop and she is the barista.

Like he comes in every day, and y/n remembers his order and eventually they 💞fall in love💞

Hello my darling dearest! I can absolutely do that for you 😭 so wholesome I love it

Jschlatt || Coffee Shop Romance

Every morning, as the sun gently spilled its golden hues across the city, Schlatt found himself stepping into the quaint, aromatic haven of "Brewed Awakenings." It wasn’t just the robust coffee that drew him in day after day, but the gorgeous barista who knew his order by heart—Y/N.

At the counter, y/n, with a bright smile and quicker wit, prepared his order before he even reached the front of the line. She knew it by heart—double espresso, a splash of cold milk, no sugar. Over time, what started as casual exchanges bloomed into conversations filled with laughter and subtle glances.

"Double espresso, splash of milk," y/n would announce, sliding the cup across the counter

"You know, you could try mixing it up one day. Surprise me," Schlatt suggested one morning, his tone light but curious.

Y/n’s laugh was a melodious sound that seemed to linger even as she replied, "Oh, and risk the wrath of a coffee connoisseur? I dare not."

Their banter became the highlight of Schlatt's mornings. He found himself lingering a little longer each day, finding excuses to chat with y/n, whose insights on everything from coffee beans to cosmic stars captivated him. He wasn't alone in this burgeoning affection; y/n looked forward to those early morning moments more than she cared to admit.

One rainy morning, as the shop hummed quietly with fewer customers than usual, Schlatt took a chance. As y/n handed him his usual, he held onto her hand for a second longer.

"Would you like to grab coffee sometime? Outside of here … I mean," he stammered, his voice a mix of hope and hesitation.

Y/n’s heart skipped a beat, her usual composure wavering slightly.

"I think I'd like that," she smiled, her hand still in his. "But only if I get to pick the place. There’s this little spot across town that supposedly tops this one. Don’t tell my boss I said that.” She winked.

“It’s a date then, and my lips are sealed.” Schlatt grinned, his usual confidence restored by her acceptance. They laughed, the sound mingling with the calm chatter of the patrons.

In that little coffee shop, among the steaming mugs and morning rushes, y/n and Schlatt found something unexpected and wonderful—each other.

[thewertsearch]

You are consumed by murderous thoughts and you prepare to embark on a killing spree to end all oh for fuck's sake you start thinking about dog things again.

There's a lot of Bec in there. I guess it's not all that surprising, given the sheer power of what he is - the clown, cat and crow are probably all but drowned out by the light of the Green Motherfucking Sun.

Come to think of it, this is also a chance to gain some insight into Bec's psyche. Maybe, if we examine Jack's new motivations, we'll be able to understand what made that doggy tick.

You successfully suppress all thoughts of delicious little wrapped wieners and infuriating things like mail and its agents of delivery. But in the process you awaken your deepest and darkest feelings of all. Feelings of... Loyalty?

OR MAYBE I’LL JUST CRY. MAYBE I’LL DO THAT.

And it is surely why you couldn't go through with it. You could not do it. You could not kill the girl.

One lucky break after another. He can't harm Jade, he can't find John, and I think he'll have trouble with Dave, too, since his loops grant him predestination-flavored plot armor. Jack has no way of knowing which Dave is the most recent, so he's statistically a lot more likely to attack a past Dave, whose survival is Alpha-mandated.

That only leaves Rose - holed up in a library somewhere, and about to be enshrouded in an eldritch blackout, which doesn't sound easy to hunt in. I believe the Horrorterrors have business with her, and I don't think they'll want anyone interfering.

None of the kids are particularly vulnerable, so Jack can't go on the Player-killing spree he obviously wants to. All he can really do is destroy vital Sburb infrastructure, and murder beloved Guardians - which obviously isn't great, but is still an improvement on what we had before.

I just wish the kids were aware of this, since Jack's Becification is the most valuable intel we've heard all day. I didn’t think someone so single-minded would have psychological weaknesses to exploit, but now we’re in business. We have options.

For example: could we bait him with some radioactive steak?

[heritagebrowser]

The pulpit at the Saint- Bavon's Cathedral (Sint-Baafskathedraal) in Ghent, Belgium.

Rococo pulpit made by Laurent Delvaux in 1741. The statues represent the blessing of the truth over error. Made of (white and black) Carrara marble and Danish oak, with gilded wood and wrought iron fence, made by J. Arens. The pulpit could be realized with money from Bishop Triest's fund. Laurent was commissioned by the Chapter of Sint-Baafs. The contract between both parties was signed on March 6, 1741.

As early as 1719-1720, the cathedral's clergy had a plan to replace the old pulpit, previously donated by Viglius Aytta, with a new work of art. In 1738-1739 and later, Van der Brugghen from Antwerp, Theodoor Verhaeghen from Mechelen and Laurent Delvaux from Nivelles made a design for a new pulpit. The latter's model was accepted for execution by the Ghent chapter, which concluded a written agreement with the sculptor on March 6, 1741. It precisely described which materials should be used, namely Danish oak and white Italian marble, and what the artwork should look like. In 1745 Delvaux had completed his work.

That pulpit, rightly regarded as a very representative piece of rococo church furniture in Flanders, has been elaborated on a rather large scale. The viewer's gaze is immediately drawn to the allegorical marble sculpture group under the tub, depicting Truth and Time. The Truth, in the form of a beautiful young woman in a graceful pose, holds a bulky, open book in her hands. Her beautifully arranged robe, which the artist managed to portray in a striking way, captures the movement of her long flowing hair. The globe under her right foot means that truth is higher and worthier than all other goods. The sun, shining on her breast, wants to show that Truth is a friend of light and that she looks up to God, without whose light there is no truth. The woman is crowned with a laurel wreath, the sign of victory. The book in her hands contains the following sentence from a speech by Paul to the inhabitants of Ephesus: 'Awake, you sleeper; rise from the dead, and Christ will give you light” (V, 14).

With her graceful body, slightly turned towards him, Truth turns towards a winged man, who foretells Time. He is winged because the proverb says: time flies. The old man sits on some blocks of stone and leans against a tree that supports the pulpit. He is awakened from his sleep by a putto blowing a trumpet, and lifts the veil that hid the Truth from him. People noticed his expressive head with striking play of light and shadow in the spirit of the late Baroque. For centuries, humanity was ignorant of Christ's message of salvation. She didn't see the Truth. Now Time throws off the veil that hindered his 'insight'. Instructed by the Truth, he is inspired by the divine Word, which is symbolized by the putto with the trumpet.

The entire group, inspired by an unfinished work by the Italian sculptor Bernini, is very balanced. The successful contrast between the youthful and lovely woman and the muscular old man, their posture and their draping testify to the artist's talent.

The branches of the tree swing smoothly around the pulpit, which is decorated with numerous rococo motifs and four medallions in relief. Three of these are explicative representations of the victory of Truth over Time and are therefore closely related to the group of images at the bottom. At the front we get the birth of Christ surrounded by angels and cherubim. This represents the Light among people. On the right the conversion of Paul is depicted, who was struck blind on the way to Damascus.

On the left is the conversion of St. Bavo. His eyes opened and he saw. After all, he was moved by the preaching of Saint Amandus and withdrew into a hollow tree in prayer. The last medallion on the back features the bust of Bishop Antoon Triest. The draped sounding board with a dove in a halo at the bottom is supported by two apple trees. On the sounding board, two angels hold a large cross, whose sleek surfaces contrast sharply with the playful branches of the tree. A third angel takes the apple from the mouth of a serpent that is writhing in the tree. At the entrance to each staircase there is a life-size angel on the inside with the coat of arms of Bishop Triest, thanks to whose fund it was possible to have this sculpture executed. The banister with its graceful curves and its lush and playful shells on the parapet is a beautiful piece of rococo in itself. The entire pulpit should not necessarily be viewed from any one point. It is conceived as an image that can be admired from all sides, without the composition losing value. (Source: Erik Duverger)

[tinytinyblogs]

🩵💕love love LOVE the 'out? I don't think so' series and was wondering if you would do a yandere ot8 x reader fic or headcannons or something where they have kidnapped reader and reader tries to escape. What will skz do when they catch them in the act? What kinda precautions would they take in the future and would they punish you for escaping? Sorry this sounds like an interview😅

Where do you think you're going, darling?

Running away doesn't seem like a good idea, because in the end, they will always come after you.

⚠️ Yandere theme, unhealthy obsession, Kidnapped and a lot more⚠️

ChanMin, BinHyun, HanLix, SeungIn

💬 Thanks for the request, darling. This is going to be a series that I'll post once a week. I hope it meets your expectations. If there are any shortcomings, I apologize deeply.

Stray Kids Masterlist

Your insights and reactions make these posts come alive. Love reblogs, comments, and all the good vibes welcome ✨

Chan

Chan rarely rested; his obsession drove him relentlessly. He took his twisted sense of responsibility seriously, especially when he dragged you to the place he believed you belonged—his captive. But that night was different. After countless sleepless nights fueled by madness, he finally crashed into a deep, haunted sleep. That was your moment. Heart pounding, you crept through the suffocating silence, every step a prayer that the floor wouldn't betray you. The door loomed ahead, and with a final, trembling breath, you slipped through. You ran, adrenaline pumping, terror biting at your heels as you hid, desperate and trembling. The next morning, Chan awoke, disoriented from the depths of his deranged dreams. His eyes fell on the ajar door of your room. A chill ran down his spine as he pushed it open, staring at the empty space where you should have been. His eyes widened, then narrowed with a cold, simmering rage. His hand clenched into a fist, knuckles white. And that was the moment he snapped.

From that day forward, he became a relentless hunter, his every waking moment consumed with finding you, dragging you back into his nightmarish grip. You had escaped his grasp, but you had awakened the beast within him. Now, he was coming for you, and nothing would stand in his way. Chan was a smart guy—you knew that well, which was why you were haunted by an uneasy feeling as you sat in the corner of the room where you were hiding. Yet, as if manifesting your worst nightmare, he appeared. He stood there, no smile on his face, observing you with cold, calculating eyes. He closed the door and walked closer, squatting down to your level. "You know, darling, it wasn't very smart of you to run away," he said, his voice more menacing than ever. Those were the last words you remembered before everything went dark. When you finally awoke, you were in a dimly lit room, Chan sitting not far away. The scene felt eerily familiar, like déjà vu—the same sinister feeling you had the first time he kidnapped you.

Even in the darkness, his eyes felt like lasers burning into your soul. "You scare me, you know that?" His voice dripped with a chilling mix of anger and relief. He took a deliberate, menacing step closer, then sat on the bed where you lay, utterly vulnerable. "It's not so nice of you," he hissed. He gripped your hand with brutal force, his fingers digging in painfully, as if trying to meld his fear and fury into your flesh. The intensity of his emotions—terror, rage, relief—poured out, overwhelming you. You couldn't hold back the sobs; crying was the only thing you could do. Through your tears, you noticed the sinister changes in the room. The window was now fortified with thick iron bars, turning it into an impenetrable cage. The door was covered in multiple locks, each one a new barrier to your freedom. The room had become a twisted fortress, a stark testament to his obsession with keeping you captive. For several agonizing days, he kept you tied to the bed, the ropes cutting into your skin, a constant reminder of your captivity. His paranoia and rage transformed your existence into a living hell far worse than before. Every day, he would stand over you, his eyes burning with a mistrust so intense it felt like a physical force.

He made it clear with every look, every word, that he no longer believed a single thing you said. His touch, once merely controlling, now turned brutal. He gripped you with a force that left bruises, his actions driven by a volatile mix of fear and anger. It was as if you had unleashed a monster within him, one that thrived on anxiety and dread. He couldn't stop thinking about what could have happened if he hadn't found you. Every terrible scenario played out in his mind, feeding his obsession and deepening his madness. He stopped sleeping properly, too consumed by the thought of you slipping away again. When he did sleep, it was right beside you, his body a constant, oppressive presence. He kept one arm draped over you, fingers twitching even in sleep, as if he feared you might vanish if he let go. The room became a fortress of his making: the windows barred with thick iron, the door secured with multiple locks, each one a testament to his desperation to keep you contained. You felt his breath on your skin as he slept, each exhale a reminder that you were never alone, never free.

His nightmares became your reality, his fears and anxieties shaping every moment of your existence. He would wake up in a panic, shaking you awake just to make sure you were still there, his eyes wild and frantic. And through it all, you cried. Your tears were the only outlet for the terror and despair that consumed you. But even your cries seemed to fuel his madness, making him grip you tighter, hold you closer, as if your pain validated his twisted need to keep you under his control. His love had turned into a prison, and his obsession, your endless nightmare.

Minho

That day, Minho's arrogance reached new heights as he seemed to believe you had succumbed to his control entirely. He underestimated your resilience, assuming you had resigned yourself to the grim fate he had imposed upon you. But in the moments when he was absent, when the oppressive weight of his presence lifted just slightly, you saw a glimmer of hope—a chance for escape, however slim it might be. Clutching the hairpin you had managed to keep hidden since your last captivity, you meticulously worked at the lock with trembling hands. Each click of the mechanism felt like a victory, a step closer to freedom. Finally, with a soft snick, the door swung open, and a rush of adrenaline surged through your veins. You moved swiftly, silently, every instinct screaming at you to flee, to put as much distance between yourself and Minho as possible. The hallway stretched out before you, a dark labyrinth of uncertainty, but you pushed forward, driven by sheer determination. As you ran, the memories of past escape attempts flooded your mind—the fear, the desperation, the agonizing uncertainty of what lay beyond the confines of your prison. But this time felt different. This time, you refused to let fear paralyze you.

With each step, you felt a surge of defiance, a newfound strength coursing through your veins. You were no longer the helpless victim Minho had made you out to be; you were a survivor, fighting tooth and nail for your freedom. The hairpin remained clutched tightly in your hand, a symbol of your resilience, your refusal to be caged. You used it to overcome every obstacle in your path, picking locks, jimmying windows, anything to put distance between yourself and the suffocating grip of Minho's control. And as you finally broke free from the confines of his lair, you vowed never to look back. When Minho returned home, plastic bags dangling from his hands, he dropped them unceremoniously to the floor the moment his eyes locked onto the front door. With a sense of urgency, he rushed inside, scouring every corner of the house in search of you. But his efforts were in vain; you were nowhere to be found. His frustration boiled over, his hand clenching into a tight fist as he slammed it against the wall with a primal scream. Blood trickled from the wound, but he hardly noticed, consumed by the overwhelming sense of failure.

He became consumed by the hunt, forsaking sleep and sanity alike in his relentless pursuit of you. He tracked you tirelessly, driven by a desperation that bordered on madness. Each passing moment without you felt like an eternity, a torment he couldn't endure. Failure was not an option; he couldn't bear the thought of losing you again. And then, one fateful night, as you lay sleeping, unaware of his presence, you opened your eyes to find him sitting beside you, his gaze fixed on your slumbering form. There were no words exchanged, only the weight of his silent observation hanging heavily in the air. "Do you sleep well?" Minho's voice was as cold as ice as his hand grazed your cheek, leaving a chilling trail in its wake. There was no warmth in his touch, only the stark reminder of his possessiveness. "Are you sleeping well without me?" he asked again, his words laced with a bitter edge. It was almost as if he couldn't fathom the idea of you finding solace in slumber without him by your side. His grip tightened on your chin as he continued, his voice a venomous whisper in the air.

"I can't sleep when you're away. It's time to go home, darling, back to where you belong. And I swear, this time there's no way out." The determination in his voice sent a shiver down your spine, a premonition of the ordeal to come. He dragged you back to the place he called 'home,' though to you, it was nothing more than a prison of your own making. As he threw you into the room with no window, the darkness enveloped you like a suffocating embrace, leaving you gasping for air. With a roar of frustration, Minho unleashed his fury upon the room, his hands becoming weapons of destruction. Objects shattered against the walls, the sound of breaking glass echoing through the empty space. He didn't care if his own hands bled in the process; all that mattered was his need to exert control, to assert his dominance over you. You cowered in the corner, your body trembling with fear as you watched the chaos unfold before you. The air was thick with tension, every breath a struggle against the suffocating atmosphere of fear and despair.

After what felt like an eternity, Minho's rage began to subside, his breaths coming in ragged gasps as he surveyed the wreckage he had caused. Slowly, he approached you, his footsteps heavy with the weight of his own anger. With a brutal grip, he seized your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. "If you ever run away again," he hissed, his voice dripping with malice, "I swear, I'll break your legs, darling. I hate the thought of hurting you, but if it's necessary, I will." The threat hung in the air like a dark cloud, casting a shadow over any hope of escape.

[eliotrosechild]

The Seven Archangels

Lucifer – The majestic archangel of unparalleled beauty and power, Lucifer was once the brightest of the heavenly beings. His presence commands respect and awe, as he radiates elegance and grace. His wings of pure energy and amber light represent his divine origin and his connection to heavenly realms, even after his fall. He stands tall, regal, and mesmerizing, a figure of both light and shadow, embodying the complexity of rebellion, pride, and the quest for ultimate freedom.

Michael – The fierce warrior archangel, Michael stands as the eternal protector of righteousness and the leader of the heavenly armies. His wings blaze with pure amber energy, symbolizing his strength and determination. Michael holds a sword of light, prepared to defend against any threat to divine order. His presence is intense and commanding, inspiring courage in those who follow him and fear in those who oppose him. He is the ultimate force of justice and divine power.

Gabriel – The majestic archangel of revelation and messenger of God, Gabriel carries an aura of peace and divine wisdom. With wings of amber light that spread gracefully, he brings messages of hope and guidance from the divine realms. Gabriel’s presence is serene, calm, and full of grace. His trumpet symbolizes his role in delivering important divine messages, sounding the call to awakening and transformation. He is the voice of clarity, speaking the words of the heavens.

Uriel – The majestic archangel of wisdom and enlightenment, Uriel stands as a radiant guide, holding an orb of divine knowledge. His amber wings shine with the light of ancient truths and higher understanding. Uriel’s presence is calm yet powerful, representing insight, foresight, and the illumination of the mind. He is the one who brings clarity in confusion and light to those walking in darkness, offering the wisdom of the ages and a connection to the divine mysteries.

Samael – The mythical archangel of death and Uriel – The majestic archangel of wisdom and enlightenment, Uriel stands as a radiant guide, holding an orb of divine knowledge. His amber wings shine with the light of ancient truths and higher understanding. Uriel’s presence is calm yet powerful, representing insight, foresight, and the illumination of the mind. He is the one who brings clarity in confusion and light to those walking in darkness, offering the wisdom of the ages and a connection to the divine mysteries. destruction, Samael is a figure of mystery and power. His wings of amber energy exude an ancient, almost primordial force. Known as both an angel of death and a figure of temptation, Samael walks the line between divine judgment and rebellion. His role in balancing creation and destruction gives him a complex and enigmatic nature. His presence is both alluring and terrifying, embodying the mythic forces of life and death intertwined.

Azrael – The fierce archangel of death, Azrael stands as the guide for souls transitioning from life to the afterlife. His wings burn with amber intensity, signaling his role in escorting souls through their final journey. Azrael’s presence is both comforting and formidable, representing the inevitability of death and the solemn duty of releasing souls from the physical realm. His fierce demeanor reflects his role as the angel of death, who stands firm in the face of life’s greatest transition.

Raphael – The mythical archangel of healing and protection, Raphael’s wings shimmer with a soft yet powerful amber light. His presence is one of warmth, healing energy, and divine care. Raphael holds a staff, the symbol of his connection to health and the healing arts. His aura is infused with a gentle strength, capable of mending both physical and spiritual wounds. As the healer of God, Raphael guides and protects those in need of restoration, bringing peace and harmony wherever he goes.

[delusionalwritingsofagay]

Heloooo!

I'm really happy I found your blog we need more male reader writers🫶🥲

I'm here to request a oneshot for Tyrion Lannister from game of thrones who is very close friends with the reader (ftm or not your choice) but he slowly starts realizing he feels more than friendship towards him.

Like the reader is Tyrions gay awakening if you will😌

Love what you do, you're doing a great job lots of love💖

Beneath the Shadows of Kings

Pairing : Tyrion Lannister x Male reader Tags: Getting together, Fluff, Friends to lovers Word count : 923 Y/n: Your name  L/n: your last name

The flickering candlelight cast dancing shadows across the dimly lit chamber, where Tyrion Lannister sat hunched over his small writing desk, quill poised in hand. The scratch of ink on parchment was a familiar sound, but tonight, it felt insufficient to distract his restless thoughts. He missed Y/N —his laughter, his insight, the way he  brought light into the dreary halls..

Their  friendship had blossomed in this dark place, forged in shared wit and mutual understanding. Y/N  had been a source of strength for Tyrion during his darkest days, a friend who saw beyond the legacy of a Lannister name. Y/N  had listened to his countless tales, never judging, never looking down on him. Rather, He encouraged him, making him feel seen in a way that few others did.

On this particular evening, he had requested the other man's  company after a taxing day filled with political manoeuvrings and veiled threats. He often found solace in Y/N presence, but tonight, as he waited for his to arrive, a different kind of tension filled the air—one he couldn’t quite place.

The door creaked open, interrupting his thoughts. There Y/N stood, an inviting smile lighting up his face, eyes shimmering with a warmth that always made him feel at home. "I thought you were going to drown yourself in ink tonight, my lord,” Y/N teased, stepping into the room.

“Ah, but the ink has a tendency to run dry, unlike the conversation with a good friend,” Tyrion replied with a smirk, setting the quill aside. He motioned for Y/N  to sit on the chair opposite him. “But I suppose I have some red wine nearby. Perhaps that would be a better companion for our evening?”

Y/N  settled into the chair, his presence filling the room with an energy that Tyrion relished. “You know I wouldn’t argue against a glass or two of your finest,” Y/N said playfully, and Tyrion scoffed, pouring a generous amount into two goblets.

They clinked together, and They  both brought their goblets to their lips, drinking deeply, a silent toast to camaraderie shared amidst a brutal world.

As the wine flowed, so too did the conversation—stories of their past adventures, shared laughter, and subtle glances that lingered just a moment too long. The way Y/N  spoke, His hands gesturing in wide arcs, his expressions shifting from mirth to earnestness—it struck something deep within Tyrion.

“This world is a cruel and senseless place, isn’t it?” Y/N mused, his tone reflecting on the darker sides of politics. “But amidst that chaos, we endure, we find joy in small things, like...” His voice trailed off as his gaze caught Tyrion's It was a simple silence, yet it resounded louder than the words that often peppered their conversations.

Tyrion found himself lost in those eyes. They were like pools of endless possibility—a light amid the darkness. He realised in that moment that his feelings had shifted, deepened in ways he couldn’t yet fully comprehend. The laughter they shared now felt laced with something greater, something that tethered his heart to Y/N.

"You are a rare light in this dismal place," he finally said, his voice softer, the words almost a confession. "More precious than gold or title."

Y/N tilted his head, the corners of his mouth curling into a soft smile, and the warmth his  presence brought ignited something deep inside him—something frightening yet intoxicating.

“Isn’t that what friends are for?” Y/N  replied gently, but Tyrion could sense the way the other man’s pulse quickened, the way his breath hitched ever so slightly.

“No, it’s more than that,” he pressed, leaning forward, the atmosphere heavy with unspoken tension. “You’ve become… integral to my life. Someone I rely on, someone I want at my side, not just as a friend, but as something more.”

Y/N expression shifted, surprise momentarily flickering across his face, quickly replaced by understanding. “Tyrion...” he began, but Tyrion cut him off.

“Please, allow me this—these feelings, they’ve been gathering like storm clouds in my heart,” he confessed, his voice trembling, raw with sincerity. “I’ve tried to ignore them, buried them beneath laughter and jest, but I cannot anymore. You are more than a friend to me; you are…”

His voice faltered. The silence swelled like the tide, pulling him closer to the edge of vulnerability. Y/N took a deep breath, and then, to Tyrion’s surprise, Y/N reached across the table, his fingers brushing lightly against the dwarfs .

“I feel it too,” Y/N whispered, eyes shining with a mix of emotion that resonated with him. “But in a world like this… could we…?”

“Could we dare?” Tyrion finished, a spark of hope igniting between them . “I have long been a fool in my life; I will not be a fool where my heart is concerned.”

In the flickering candlelight, with the shadows of kings looming just outside yet feeling far away, Y/N leaned closer, his warmth enveloping Tyrion. “Then let’s not be fools together,” Y/N said softly, His lips curving into a smile that spoke of possibility.

Time seemed to freeze as Tyrion closed the distance between them, and in that moment, amidst the chaos of the world outside, they both took the first steps into uncharted territory together.

As Their lips met, all political alliances and family expectations faded into the background, leaving only the promise of what could be, a bond forged not merely from friendship, but something richer, more profound.

[hanasnx]

can you share some of thosr anakin-related-content-you-consumed on ur anakin fixation era cz im fixating on anakin aswell rn and i want to study him!! please, idk where to start 🙇🏻‍♀️

supercut of star wars I - III reddit link with instructions to receive them via google docs

i've seen both tpm and aotc supercuts but i have yet to finish the rots supercut because of it being so long. there are also deleted scenes on youtube that were not included in the supercuts linked here:

star wars episodes I and II extended edition - unused deleted scenes youtube video

revenge of the sith 4 hour supercut - unused deleted scenes youtube video

if you cannot get a hold of the supercuts for some reason, no sweat. the same channel listed in the above links has a bunch of videos on their channel of all "restored deleted scenes" that you can watch individually. of course, that is without the "siege of mandalore" that's included in the rots supercut. but that's just the bits you would see from season 7 of the clone wars spliced in, so you wouldn't be missing anything.

star wars: episode I - the phantom menace

if you cannot get a hold of the supercuts for whatever reason, start here. one of my favorite star wars movies. features young anakin, about nine years old, and how comes to live with the jedi, how he meets padme, and where he comes from.

star wars: episode II - attack of the clones

we follow older anakin, about nineteen years old, where he reunites with padme and they fall in love. the cracks of the dark side's influences are beginning to show.

star wars: clone wars

this is the mini-series released in 2003-2005 to depict anakin's journey throughout the beginning of the clone wars to prepare audiences for star wars: revenge of the sith coming out in 2005. it has since been de-canonized and replaced with the clone series that comes out in 2008. it is still worth the watch. anakin's voice actor is supremely talented and sounds a lot like hayden christensen. albeit he is dramatic, as it is a kid's show, i still very much enjoy his characterization. it's actually pretty funny too, it did get me to laugh a couple times. chapter 24-25 i believe is where anakin undergoes a sort of spiritual awakening, and the ending always makes me cry.

star wars: the clone wars movie

it was honestly boring to me, but i still watched it for much needed context on the show.

star wars: the clone wars

as i’ve said before, i don’t really care for tcw!anakin, but this was still a fun and enjoyable watch. it wasn’t completely worthless to me, i did learn some more things about anakin that applied to hayden’s rendition.

unreleased star wars: the clone wars arc - crystal crisis on utapau (full) youtube video

i didn’t finish it but from what i’ve seen so far it’s pretty funny.

anakin & obi-wan | let my people go youtube video edit

one of my favorite edits to one of my favorite songs from one of my favorite movies. i think about it a lot, especially during the “this was my home.” lyric. hammering in the betrayal of brothers that grew up alongside one another, and if you resonate with that song and movie it provides another layer of context. it’s deliciously painful. when anakin’s side of “you who i called brother,” cuts through and interrupts the melody, impatient to speak about his perspective using ramses’ narrative to do it, it’s acutely accurate to anakin’s character in my eyes.

clone wars: battle of the heroes - a star wars fan animation youtube video

i haven’t seen this yet but i’ve been waiting to enjoy it to its fullest. the creator worked very hard on it for a long time, so it’s worth the link.

star wars episode III: revenge of the sith novel by matthew stover

i have not read this, but i’ve seen hundreds of excerpts over the course of this hyperfixation on tumblr. it’s widely accepted even though it’s decanonized, and offers insight into anakin’s head that you can’t access with just watching the movie. i thoroughly enjoy and reblog the excerpts i come across, but since i’m not a reader i haven’t picked it up to complete it myself.

star wars: episode III - revenge of the sith

the third installment in the prequel series, and where shit goes down. twenty-three year old anakin grapples with his desires overcoming his sense of obligations, warping his own ideals to fit into selfish purposes. you see how he betrays the republic, his wife, his brother, and himself, all for power.

star wars episode III revenge of the sith (xbox) no commentary walkthrough full game [1080p60fps] youtube video

i haven’t gotten to watch this yet but i’d like to soon, i’ve seen bits and pieces and i believe there are alternate endings that prove interesting. if you like gameplay movies i think you should give it a shot, but if not, go ahead and skip this one.

star wars: episode III - revenge of the sith - making the game youtube video

it’s short and sweet. about hayden’s view of the character anakin and how he acts in combat.

star wars: tales of the jedi

s1e5 where we receive insight as to how anakin trains his padawan.

vader: complete canon comic series 1-25 in chronological order youtube video

i loved this so much. so many good moments that i ate the fuck up. we follow vader in his first year of becoming the sith lord, grappling with identity, past, and recognition. we also get insight into the very sensitive time of jedi eradication, i learned a lot. my favorite parts are when vader has to fight without a saber against clones, make his own red saber by retrieving one from a surviving jedi, and the arc that includes jocasta nu.

star wars the force unleashed- full game walkthrough gameplay no commentary youtube video

star wars the force unleashed 2 - full game walkthrough gameplay no commentary youtube video

both of these i've been meaning to watch, but i haven't been in the mood. i figured i'd link them in case you were interested in more gameplay movies.

star wars rebels

i didn't finish this, but i did watch a lot of the vader content and the scarce anakin content. i'll watch anything that mentions him tbh.

star wars jedi: fallen order - full game - no commentary youtube video

i played this game and loved it. the ending is the money shot tbh.

star wars: obi-wan kenobi

this was probably the first sw show i watched after i got back into darth vader in august 2022. reawakened a lot for me, i really enjoyed vader's part in this story. reva is also one of my favorites, and i thought her being a mirror image to anakin in this situation was clever, i thought her backstory was unique and refreshing. but what really shines for me is vader's contribution as both an extension of the emperor and a vessel for his own selfish desires. there are parts where i can see he's more machine than man. there are also some anakin parts as well! which i didn't enjoy as much, funnily enough.

rogue one: a star wars story

i haven't seen this one in years, but i do remember darth vader's appearances being both funny and badass.

star wars: episode IV - a new hope

star wars: episode V - the empire strikes back

it took me a long time to come around on this one. now it's one of my favorites. especially because we start to get the first glimpses within the original trilogy of vader's humanity, and his ability to demonstrate faint loyalty to his blood.

star wars: episode VI - return of the jedi

fave sw movie tbh since childhood. you can't get better than the ending. vader's sacrifice is everything to me.

lego star wars: the skywalker saga

i had played this game back in may 2022 when i visited my sister. she and i used to play lego games together when we were kids, and one of my first video games ever was lego star wars: the video game from 2005 which she introduced me to. it holds a special place in my heart, and i really liked playing skywalker saga even though at this point i hadn't cared about star wars in years. when i got back home i couldn't stop thinking about the saga game so i bought it myself, and then played it so obsessively i didn't do anything else. it got me back in the mood for darth vader so i watched obi-wan kenobi, and one thing leads to another now here i am with a smut blog about anakin skywalker's entire life and his every iteration. i loved the game, i think you should play it even though it's just lego versions of everything, it's still really fun.

star wars: ahsoka

you see him in this and the cinematography is breathtaking at times, but i didn't care for it. i only cared about the glimpses of anakin/vader's appearances even if they didn't contribute anything to the story for me.

anakin skywalker vs palpatine full fight scene (hd) - star wars episode IX [alternative ending] youtube video

this is a fan edit! i think about it a lot even though i haven't seen the sequels.

the life of anakin skywalker: darth vader (star wars) youtube video

i haven't finished this, but from what i've seen it's taught me things even i didn't know. i really appreciated the facts that aren't even on wookiepedia.

any books on it i've only seen the excerpts here on tumblr, i haven't read any because i'm not a big reader but i've seen some great posts that i reblog. so don't sleep on the books/comics

great ask

[radical-revolution]

Sometimes you don't get to be a Buddha.

Sometimes you just have to break. And feel.

You have to lose your precious 'spiritual awakening'.

You just have to be a human being, feeling.

Sometimes old pain resurfaces. Old fear. Sorrow. Trauma.

The searing ache of the abandoned child.

The rage of a forgotten universe.

And suddenly, all of your spiritual insights crumble, all the beautiful spiritual words by the beautiful spiritual teachers, all the concepts and ideas about awakening and enlightenment, and the pure perfection of pure untainted awareness, and the selfless non-self self, and the path to glorious futures, and the wise guru, they suddenly are all meaningless, empty words, second-hand drivel, and dead to you.

What's real, now, and alive, is the burning in the belly, the fire in the heart.

Unavoidable. Intense. So close. So present.

Sometimes you just have to feel. You have no choice.

And sense your feet on the ground.

And breathe into the discomfort.

And trust, and maybe trust that you cannot trust right now.

And take it moment by moment, by moment, by moment.

And know that nothing is working against you.

And awaken from your dream of how this moment 'should' be.

And throw away all your second-hand ideas about the path.

Sometimes your spirituality has to shatter, so you can finally realise

this deeper spirituality of feeling, presence, and feet-on-ground living, and the sound of the birds singing in the distance, and a total surrender to this one precious moment.

- Jeff Foster

[grim-faux]

replaying the LN games, I noted key differences that isolate Six and Mono in their tactics and behavior.

The locations such as the Maw and the Pale City dictate the strategies children have for survival. On my discord, we theorized that children aboard the Maw may have not been great at the whole survival gig, given that they've been captured and are awaiting their fate. However, based on the digital comics, children of the Pale City and urban environments - not captured - appear more adept at survival. But there's ongoing debate on these differences and the lore.

One thing I noticed about Mono and Six (which was one driving force of why Mono in TTT is so feral), is that the children have different methods for sleeping - i.e., when you wake up from a 'nightmare', or a game death.

Mono and Six together usually wake up sleeping sitting upright, curled up against a wall or sheltered by something. The implication here is either the child was too exhausted to go on, and settled down in the first place that was hospitable. Or as well, the child sleeps seated upright and feet tucked under the, to bare out the chill, as well to be primed for an escape if a threat approached them.

Whereas on the Maw, when Six awakens form nightmares, often she is sleeping on her side and curled up. She also seems to be selective about the places she nests, since she awakened at the beginning in a suitcase filled with clothing.

My discord has also discussed the status of native between Six and Mono, given the insight we are given about the third game, as with details from the second game. When Mono is left by Six, he has the chance to grow up and become the Thin Man - that is his fate and the repeating cycle he is apart of. Thus, Mono is more native or a genuine native child to Nowhere and was never in the world where Otto or Noone inhabit. Aside from the betrayal of Six, Mono was never trapped (Bully's don't count), and had always been skilled at evading detection by his enemies as well as never getting captured.

On the other, Six was taken by the Nest and detained there. We don't know how she came to be there, though concept art suggests she was more groomed and her hair trimmed - reflecting she was recently collected into the Nowhere. Though we have not been given further details of her origins, let alone how she escaped the Nest cliff. In the digital comics, we know she was pursued by the Hunter - indicating she did not do well in evading detection. She was also distracted during her escape and captured, and needed another child (Mono) to rescue her. We'll exclude the Bully's from detaining her, since they were actively hunting children and entering their territory without detection was impossible. However, she was taken by the Thin Man and left in the Tower. She was also brought aboard the Maw, maybe caught by the Ferryman as implied by the original Little Nightmare comics. And she was lured into a trap and captured by the Janitor.

This may be indication that Six - though a survivor of Nowhere and capable of inheriting the Lady's powers - she is not full native. Not to the depth that Mono was.

Even the podcast Sounds of Nightmares was ambiguous about how children arrive to the Nowhere, and even on the terms if there are native children or the status of going native. Likewise, the debate of if the adult inhabitants of Nowhere are capable of bearing their own children, or do residents come as recruitments from other worlds - not necessarily from our world, or the world Dr. Otto inhabits.

The third game may shed more light on these details, especially given that Low and Alone seem to be seasoned veterans of the Nowhere and capable of survival. One desires to escape forever, while the other yearns to explore the Spiral.

[storysprite]

Resplendor of the Gods - Gloria Matri. Gloria Filio. In Saecula Saeculorum.

About Resplendor:

(Part 1 of 3)

The anniversary of Raiden Makoto's death was for Ei the most painful time of any year. A reminder of when, as far as Ei is concerned, Inazuma lost its true light. Of which, in her mind, she is only a shadow.

It did not help matters that her son was also first awakened on the anniversary of this tragic day, which to Ei was a foreboding sign.

For this reason, she had at first not released to the public the divine name of her firstborn. As though to shelter it and therefore her son from the fate of the world.

It was not until she realised that on the worst of days, and through any pain her son felt, that Ei's smile was able to restore life and light to his countenance. That to her son, she was not merely a shadow. But the very light of his life.

As such, on one particular anniversary of Makoto's death and the celebration of the boy's life, the Narukami chose to reveal to her son a divine secret.

"Resplendor?" asked the young lad, sitting at the table of Tenshukaku's secluded garden which overlooked the whole of Inazuma City.

"That is correct," said Ei setting down a plate of homemade Tamago Kake Gohan. She smiled seeing that her son no longer recoiled at the sight of her cooking. A sure sign of improvement ever since taking lessons from her familiar Yae Miko.

"You mean light?" asked the boy chomping down his rice, just before correcting himself with a 'sorry' for talking with his mouthful.

Ei reached across the table and gave him a gentle pat on the head in acknowledgement of his ever-growing sense of etiquette.

Then she answered him: "Resplendor is more than light. That's just how most in the mortal world see it before they get to understand what it is. If ever."

The boy finished his third bite and then asked, "So what is it then?"

"Resplendor is the Poetry of Life made manifest," answered Ei.

"The Poetry of Life?"

"The Poetry of Life is the enchantment born of what the world is and how we experience it. A power at the very cusp of reality that rests in between life and lore. Dreaming and waking. Truth and tale," said Ei. "It lives in the love of two infatuated young people who can't help but see the other as perfect. And the love between those who've been together for years, who see each other's flaws as part of the tapestry of their life together and delight in the beauty of a bigger picture.

"It lives in the toy that to others is just one among many. But to a child, it's an irreplaceable gift given by their parent. The Poetry of Life lives in the legends people cling to that are more important than the events they recount. You experience it all the time without realising it.

“Resplendor is the power of Gods to experience this sublime poetry as a real world in and of itself. To see and experience parts of reality in a way mortals can't. But also to bring parts of that bountiful realm into the world to beautify reality and bring about new works on the tapestry of fate. That's why stories of the Gods and their powers sound so mystical. The stories themselves are a part of that Resplendor. And the divine light mortals often see is the most accessible form it can visually take."

(Part 2 of 3)

In awe of his mother's sayings, perhaps captured by the Resplendor of the moment the boy had long forgotten his meal and sat spoon in hand lingering on her every word.

"Woah," he finally managed to say. Ei smiled. Had this been any other child she would have imagined that her words had gone over their head.

But her son was a bright boy who had more 'whys' on his lips than the number of Sakura petals in all of Inazuma. And each answer he got would normally be followed by a question more complex or insightful than the ones before.

"Can every God use Resplendor?" he asked.

"In other words, is this something you can use now. But I'm going to tell you to wait till you're older. But you're going to try anyway and then hurt yourself and I'm going to have to ground you over and over because getting hurt the first time won't be enough to stop you trying again?" asked Ei.

The boy held a serious face for a few seconds. But the mask quickly slipped as he left out a sly smirk.

"Using Resplendor can occur naturally. But most of the time deliberate use takes years of practice," said Ei.

"Do you use it a lot?" asked the boy.

"I use it more now since you've been born. But in the past, that was my Raiden Makoto's area of focus. And we still see it today reflected in the beauty of this land, its people and culture," said Ei. "But using Resplendor saps from the same kind of divine life that Gods pour into the more commonly known manifestations of power. Particularly the kind you see in battle. As a seasoned warrior who has spent much of her life in defence of Inazuma against outside threats, my divine power has turned more towards manifesting this kind of force in the real world than going into and drawing from the realm of Resplendor."

The boy looked confused. "But there are plenty of warrior Gods who have stories filled with Resplendor or mystical powers. You as well," said the boy.

"Yes but these types of Gods tend to have less of them than other Gods," answered his mother. "And their Resplendor tends to manifest in the heat of battle. Which has its unique flavour of glory. But it's the kind that if you indulge in too much without the right heart, will lead to that deity having a Resplendor that tends more towards pure terror than awe. Darkness rather than light.

The dark and tainted glory of monsters, malovent spirits and beasts of the deep. Which is why Gods who don't focus on battle, tend to have a Resplendor that are more... uplifting."

"Like Uncle Venti or Aunt Nahida," said the boy.

"Exactly," answered his mother. "But for Venti often that's just him being jolly after a few drinks, rather than Resplendor. Although... it may be a unique sort of his own making."

(Part 3 of 3)

The two shared a laugh in the garden, warmed by the rising sun which heralded the dawn of day as bright as their smiles.

But soon after, the brightness on Ei's face dimmed down to a more sombre tone.

"So later on..." she started. "When we get our royal portrait done, you'll be able to use it in the future to recapture the Resplendor of our time spent on this day. A lovely Memento should the time come when I'm no longer around."

"Erosion..." said the boy with a heavy heart. He lifted his head towards the sky and narrowed his eyes with disgust at the island floating far above them.

"Yes," said Ei. "It seems that Erosion is a dark Resplendor cast upon the world by The One Who Came."

"Can't you cast it off with your Resplendor?" her son asked, desperate for any sign of hope on her face.

"Perhaps... If I cut myself off as much as I can from the throne of the heavens, forsook the mortal realm entirely and secluded myself for ages to come in deep meditation then there is a chance that this might be achieved," said Ei. "But the chances are slim and should they be altered of this because I made a mistake by not being detached enough, Inazumans are the ones who will face a most terrible curse just like... No.

“My heart is too close to the world for me to achieve it. Were I still grieving Makoto perhaps I'd find the strength to do so. But... Now... I have you."

The boy did not look comforted by these words.

"So it's my fault that you can't get stronger?" he whimpered.

"Fault?" said Ei. Immediately she rushed to his side and took him into her embrace.

"You are no fault," she said. "I have willingly poured into you the best of my Resplendors. That you may grow and nurture it and one day be free from the power of the One Who Came. That is my desire. For you to be happy and free. And to my surprise, I discovered that by giving myself up for you in this way, I have poured a Resplendor that transcends the laws of this world and planted within you the seeds of your redemption. And perhaps of Inazuma and all of Teyvat as well. You are no fault, my dear boy. If anything, you are my strength. And perhaps one day you will find others in like spirit as yourself."

"Don't worry Mother," said the boy, taking his turn to pat her on the head for once. "I'll help save you and all of Teyvat. Then we can be together forever."

Ei smiled at her dear and precious son. "Of that," she said. "I have no doubt.”

[my-rose-tinted-glasses]

Tsukuritai Onna to Tabetai Onna

Usual warning. This is not a review. It's just me needing to put what I'm feeling somewhere. I just finished watching so there's absolutely no critical thinking happening here.

TL;DR: WATCH THIS SHOW!!!

Well I finally finished all of Tsukutabe and to say my heart is full feels small somehow. My heart grew. I remember when I finished the second season of Kinou Nani Tabeta, I was so overwhelmed with emotions and honestly I was not expecting to be in that place again. I called it magic and I have to echo those same feelings here. Because this show it's magic. It's a gift that makes me feel thankful that I got to experience it. I really have a hard time writing about this because I'm feeling so many things so I'll try to split it in smaller bits so maybe it sounds a bit more coherent. No promises though.

Kasuga I have to start here because she's my favourite, in case it wasn't obvious by my choice of pfp. She's so cute. I fell in love with her almost immediately. I've talked about this before but to see a character eat the way she does on screen healed something in me. The way she looks at Nomoto made me melt multiple times and her smile completely shatters this cold heart of mine. The episodes around her family had me bawling [normally I would wish for her father to be run over or something, but that would only add misery to Kasuga's mother, so I just hope he dies first] but seeing her put herself first and release herself from those expectations was amazing. Her journey was incredible and it was great that she was able to open up to Nagumo and Nomoto. I have to congratulate Nishino Emi for her portrayal of Kasuga. Considering she's not an actor (she's a musician btw) and this is her only acting credit, I thought the way she embodied Kasuga was really good.

Nomoto I adore her. Her happiness was infectious and she made me smile so wide. Cooking for your loved ones is just such the most beautiful thing to me and she and Shiro are the standard and everyone else can take notes. She's more open than Kasuga so we have more of an insight to her and to watch her awakening was amazing. It reminded me a bit Sakuko [Koisenu Futari] in the beginning. Her facial expressions always gave her away and it was such a contrast to Kasuga's reserved demeanor.

THEM The Yin and Yang. They are so different on the surface but the way they come together and create a space for each other is just so beautiful to see. They are learning from each other through these two seasons and growing together and navigating the realities of their relationship and what it all means and how it makes them feel. I just love the happiness in Nomoto's eyes whenever Saguka is eating her food and the happiness and little smiles in Kasuga's face whenever Nomoto got really excited by a vegetable or a finished dish. They are perfect and will live happily ever after. Period.

Nagumo This girl has my whole heart. I said this before in the notes but every time she was on my screen I just wanted to give her a hug. She's fragile but resilient and although she was a bit shy at first, the way she shared her story with Kasuga and quickly became the person she went to for advice was so good. And to see her getting help, finding relief in a word and hope in the future made me cry so much. And when she took that bite it made my heart grow that very second. And just as a aside, the fact that the show chose to have her eat while the others didn't notice and after they did, they still didn't make it a big deal made me ugly cry. Because that's the magic part. That when I feel that a show knows what it's doing with its characters. And the moment at the end in the job thing when she said she wanted to do something that allowed to talk to people had me clapping like a proud mama.

Chiharu I love her. I love that Nomoto had someone by her side from the beginning that she could confide in and that was supportive. And that when she "messed up", like with the wedding talk, she was given space to reflect and understand and give her friend the space she needed to talk about it. Cause it's okay to not be all woke - god, I hate this word - all the time. As long as people are ready to listen to each other and learn from one another. Also always happy for the screw marriage discourse.

Yako The ace rep had me clapping at first of course. It's so rare anywhere in media so it always adds points no matter what. So obviously... I love her. She's such an amazing supporter. She's so kind and open. Her relationship with Nomoto was wonderful but she and Naguma gave me some of my favourite moments ever. Because being supportive sometimes is just being present, is asking questions, is just listening to understand and not judge. And to want those around you to grow. That moment where she realized what the move meant for Nagumo and asked her to go for a walk was so good.

THESE WOMEN. I love these women. All of them. How they come together for each other, and the kindness and understanding made me ugly cry on more than one occasion.

The Food This show really speaks to me in several ways and I know I spoke of this before but I keep coming back to food.

You eat too much or you don't eat enough. Or you don't eat it the right way. Or eat the right things. Food is just sustenance for some. Food is joy to others. Food is what makes some of us get up in the morning. Food is to eat alone or together. It means a lot of different things to different people. It's food. You eat yours and I eat mine. Can we just not pay so much attention to this? Now that I got that out. Japanese shows are the best at using food in their stories. And more often that not, it's a place of joy and healing. And the fact that this series showed that food can also be a source of trauma and something that makes you different, as well as a place where you can heal is so important to me. Because I can relate to both those things. The dining table has been a place where I felt wrong different but also a place where I found so much joy.

The Magic Much like Kinou Nani Tabeta this show is full of magic. It was made by people that needed to make it, to talk about things that mattered, from a place of empathy and love. I feel like I was meant to watch this show. The universe conspired to put it in front of me. I understand this sounds super corny, and honestly if anyone else said this words to me I would be rolling my eyes way back into my skull, so I get it. But it feels cosmic somehow. Also fun fact that helps the magic of it all. One of the characters and I share a last name. Me, little portuguese me, and a japanese character from this show. Can you imagine the odds? And no, I have no connection to Japan whatsoever, and my last name isn't even a very common one in either country. So really it has to be magic, right? Also, I have a small confession. GL's were never my favourite. I'm enjoying 23.5 a lot for example but I'm never in a rush to watch them. I have a bias against them that I never really examined, except that I find that I'm much more critical of them so I enjoyed them less. But this show, these women, just moved the needle a bit. There are important conversations here, not just from a queer standpoint but from a female perspective that really resonated with me, so I might need to readjust some things. Anyway, I have a lot of feelings but this is already long. I'll be thinking about this show a lot more, and there will be giffing for sure so I won't leave these characters any time soon. Also, did I mention?, I LOVE Kasuga. SHE IS EVERYTHING TO ME and one of my favourite characters of all time.

I already talked about the kindness in this show but I need to say it again. It's all about the kindness. These women. They are all so open and kind and because of that they are all better people and happier people. Maybe we can learn from them. If only we could be a little more kind to each other.

If you've made it to the end, thanks for reading💜. [A huge thanks to @furritsubs for giving us the opportunity to enjoy this masterpiece.]

[talonabraxas]

The divine consciousness is present everywhere, expressing itself in various different forms. ~Sri Sri Ravi Shankar

Navigating the Spiritual Dimensions of the Merkaba Energy Field

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As seekers navigate the realms of the Merkaba energy field, the Krystal Flower of Life unfolds as a visual representation of the interconnectedness of all creation. This sacred geometric pattern, woven into the fabric of existence, becomes a guide for those on a quest for spiritual understanding. The harmonious interplay between the Merkaba and the Krystal Flower of Life creates a resonance that aligns individuals with the cosmic flow of energy, fostering a sense of unity with the universe.

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Ascension and spiritual awakening become tangible realities as individuals navigate the spiritual dimensions of the Merkaba energy field. Through the integration of Reiki healing techniques, DNA activation healing, and the wisdom encoded in the Krystal Flower of Life, seekers embark on a transformative journey towards a heightened state of awareness and spiritual enlightenment.

Merkaba 'Light Body' by Talon Abraxas

[gcthvile]

An Unholy Alliance

Couple: Felicia MacLeod (OC) x Dean Winchester

Fandom: Supernatural

Warnings: none

Summary: A hunter and a demon are forced to work together, yet again. But this time working as a team awakens sparks between them despite his reluctance.

Felicia huffed as she looked out the passenger window of the Impala. Of all people, her dimwit brother had to assign her to work with Dean Winchester, she's already lost count of how many time Crowley did that to her, at this point, she was starting to think he was doing it on purpose. This man was more annoying than helpful in her opinion.

As they drove down the rural road towards their latest case, Dean's eyes kept flitting between Felicia and the road. "Let me get this straight, Crowley actually expects us to work together?"

"Don't look so pleased about it, darling." Felicia replied boredly, examining her nails. "It's not like I want to be stuck with you either."

"Good, cause hunting with a demon is bad enough, but you again? No thanks." Dean scoffed.

Felicia rolled her eyes. "You're no picnic either. At least tell me about this case so I know what I'm wasting my time with."

Dean briefly summarized the case - mysterious disappearances and strange attacks in a small town. Several witnesses claimed to see strange glowing eyes in the dark.

"Sounds like our run of the mill shapeshifter then." Felicia mused. "Should be simple."

"Don't get cocky. We don't know enough yet." Dean warned as he pulled up to the local motel.

A smile played on Felicia's lips. "We'll see about that darling. You go check us in. I'll start interrogating the locals and get us some real leads." Without waiting for a response, she flashed out of the car. Dean grimaced. This was going to be a long case.

Felicia flashed into the busy street outside the local diner. Her smoky gray eyes scanned the patrons through the large front window. There, in a corner booth, sat two young women gossiping over coffee. Perfect targets.

In an instant she was inside, sliding smoothly into their booth with a sly grin. "Ladies, you don't mind if I join do you? I couldn't help but overhear you discussing the strange goings on in this town. I'm new here and desperately seeking some insight."

The women exchanged a nervous glance. "Who are you?" Asked the brunette warily.

"Where are my manners? Name's Felicia." She purred, reaching across the table to shake their hands in turn. Both women visibly shuddered at her touch, but didn't pull away. Good, her demonic allure was already working on them.

"I'm Claire, this is Jess." The brunette replied hesitantly. "What do you want to know exactly?"

Felicia tilted her head, eyes flashing darkly. "Tell me everything. No details too insignificant. I want to know it all."

Claire launched into the reports of missing hikers and campers in the nearby woods. As she spoke, Felicia casually traced patterns on the back of Jess' hand, keeping the blonde enthralled. By the time Claire finished, Jess was practically salivating.

Felicia smirked. "Fascinating. You've been most helpful." She dug a scrap of paper from her pocket with her room number scribbled on. "If you think of anything else, don't hesitate to stop by."

With a wink she slid smoothly from the booth, satisfied with the first leads for her and her reluctant partner to investigate. Now back to the motel to scheme.

Felicia flashed back to the motel, finding Dean just entering their room. "Well that was quicker than expected." He commented, throwing his duffel on one of the beds.

Felicia sauntered in behind him. "What can I say, I work fast. Already have us a few leads too."

Dean raised a brow skeptically. "Do tell."

Flopping back on the other bed, Felicia recounted what she had learned from the girls. Dean listened with a frown, not looking pleased about her interrogation tactics.

"So the woods are our first stop. I say we start tracking at dusk, better chance of stumbling on any monsters that way." Felicia proposed.

"Or we could talk to the sherriff first, get the official reports." Dean countered.

Felicia groaned dramatically. "You and your proper procedures are no fun, Dean. The girls were much more willing to share than some stuffy cop." She flashed him a mischievous grin. "Don't tell me you're not at least a little intrigued by my methods?"

Dean huffed. "Your methods involve scaring innocent civilians half to death. We do this my way."

Rising from the bed with a huff, Felicia sauntered over to invade his space, looking up at him through her lashes. "Don't be like that, darling. I know you love it when I get us answers fast." She purred, running a finger along his chest.

Dean scowled, batting her hand away. "Knock it off. No flirting is getting us out of seeing the sheriff today. Now come on before I leave you behind."

Felicia pouted as Dean stormed out. Maybe working with the hunter wouldn't be as fun as she hoped, but that just meant she'd have to try harder to get under his skin.

Dean slammed the Impala door as he slid into the driver's seat, grumbling under his breath. Felicia slid into the passenger seat with a smirk.

"Aww don't be like that, Squirrel. I was just having a little fun with you." She cooed.

Dean started the car with more force than necessary. "Well knock it off. I'm not interested."

Felicia pouted dramatically. "You wound me, darling. Most men are putty in my hands. What's it gonna take to crack that hard exterior of yours, I wonder?"

Dean glared at her as he pulled out. "You know, working with you would be a lot easier if you'd actually help the case instead of screwing around."

Felicia rolled her eyes. "I told you, I already got us solid leads. But if you're so determined to waste time with the sheriff..." She trailed off suggestively.

Dean ignored her insinuation. "Information is only useful if it's verified. Now are you going to behave yourself at the station or do I have to put you on a leash?"

Felicia grinned wickedly. "Kinkier than I expected, Dean. You sure know how to show a girl a good time." Dean groaned in frustration. This was going to be a REALLY long afternoon.

They pulled up to the station. As Dean got out, Felicia flashed to his side, hooking her arm through his with a flirty smile. "Lead the way, partner."

Dean sighed heavily but didn't protest, resigned to a lot of disapproving looks from the cops. This case was off to a great start.

Dean pushed through the doors of the police station, Felicia still clinging smugly to his arm. All conversation in the room stopped as eyes turned to take in the unusual pair.

A grizzled officer behind the desk glowered at them. "Can I help you folks?"

"I'm David, this is Fiona. We're here about the disappearance cases." Dean replied professionally, showing the fake badges.

The officer eyed Felicia warily. "You FBI?"

Before Dean could respond, Felicia flashed her most disarming smile. "Private investigators. But don't worry, we can be very... discreet." She purred.

Dean elbowed her sharply. "Ignore her. Can you tell us what you've got?"

The officer sighed and launched into the details. Felicia listened intently while subtly caressing Dean's bicep, just to watch him twitch in annoyance. According to the reports, eight hikers and campers had gone missing over the past month in the forest surrounding the town. All left camp in the evenings and were never seen again.

"Anything useful in the woods?" Dean asked once the report was finished.

The officer shook his head. "Search parties found nothing but shredded clothes and a lot of strange tracks we couldn't ID."

Felicia perked up. "Mind if we take a look at what you've got? A fresh pair of eyes might notice something new."

The offer was clearly reluctant but the man nodded, leading them to an evidence room in back. Felicia gleefully released Dean's arm to pore over photos and articles left behind.

After a moment, she straightened with a curious look. "Dean, take a gander at these tracks for me."

Dean made his way over to where Felicia was examining the photos of strange tracks found at one of the crime scenes. He peered down, furrowing his brow as he took them in.

"What am I looking at?" Dean asked gruffly. "These could be from any number of animals."

Felicia tilted her head with a sly smile. "But you and I both know there's more out there than mere animals, wouldn't you agree?"

Dean shot her an annoyed look but had to concede the point. After years hunting the supernatural, he'd seen his fair share of creatures leave strange traces.

Felicia's smile widened at Dean's hesitation. "My thought exactly. See how the toes seem elongated, almost talon-like? And the spacing is off for any normal predator." Her eyes glinted with excitement. "I'd wager we're dealing with a rugaru."

Dean brows raised in surprise. Rugarus were nasty creatures, homicidally hungry for human flesh. If Felicia was right, they were in for a nasty fight.

"It's just a theory." Dean cautioned. "We'll need more evidence before we go charging in."

Felicia rolled her eyes. "Always so cautious. When was the last time one of my theories led us astray?" She held his gaze temptingly. "Admit it, you're starting to enjoy working with me."

Dean huffed, looking away. "Don't get ahead of yourself. We still work better apart." Yet he couldn't deny her idea seemed plausible. Against his better judgment, he was beginning to appreciate her unique skills and instincts. Not that he'd ever tell her that.

Felicia smirked, sensing Dean's resolve weakening. "You say that now, but I know you'll be singing a different tune once we take this rugaru down together."

Dean sighed wearily. "Let's just focus on getting more proof first, okay?" He turned to leave the evidence room.

Felicia flashed in front of him, blocking his path with a wicked grin. "Eager to get back to the case, are we? I like a man with focus." She traced a finger along his chest teasingly. "Though I must admit, I enjoy distracting you even more."

Dean gripped her wrist to still her hand, meeting her eyes with an unreadable expression. For a moment they stood frozen, electricity seeming to crackle between them.

Then Dean releases her slowly. "Stop messing around. We've got a job to do." Yet as he walked away, Felicia swore she saw the faintest twitch of a smile.

She followed, feeling unusually triumphant. Maybe winning over the righteous man wouldn't be so impossible after all. By the time they ganked this rugaru, she'd have him wrapped around her little finger.

"So if it is a rugaru, we'll need to lure it out of hiding." Dean mused as they exited the station.

Felicia paused, struck by inspiration. "Actually, I may have a better idea. One that involves considerably less risk to us and a lot more fun." She flashed Dean a wicked grin. "Care to play bait, darling?"

Dean eyed Felicia warily. "What kind of plan involves me as bait?"

Felicia smirked. "The fun kind. All we need to do is leave a tempting trail back to where we've set a trap. The rugaru won't be able to resist fresh meat." She traced a finger down Dean's chest. "And what better bait than a big, strong hunter?"

"Oh no way. I'm not letting myself get eaten just so you can have your thrills." Dean argued.

Felicia rolled her eyes. "Please, like I'd let it get that far. I'll be lurking invisibly the whole time to jump in and save you at the last minute." She ran her hands up his arms suggestively. "You'll be in perfectly safe hands, I promise."

Dean still looked doubtful. Felicia leaned in close enough to feel his breath on her lips. "Trust me darling, it'll be fun. I'll make it worth your while..."

She knew he was moments away from caving. Dean might try to resist her charms but they both knew he'd crack eventually. Before he could respond though, Felicia's head jerked up at the sound of screams echoing through the trees.

"Looks like our rugaru found another victim first." Felicia said seriously.

Dean nodded, slipping into hunter mode. "Let's move. You lead the way and I'll cover our backs."

Felicia flashed him a quick wink before flashing away, senses stretched out to track the distressed cries for help. Dean revved the Impala and tore after her trail of sulfur smoke. It was showtime.

The sounds of struggle grew louder as they closed in on the source. Felicia appeared to Dean, grabbing his hand. "This way, it's just ahead."

Together they burst into a small clearing to find the rugaru bearing down on a cowering teenage boy. Without hesitation, Dean raised his pistol and fired a shot that tore through the monster's bicep. It howled and whipped around to face the new threat.

The rugaru snarled at Dean and Felicia, blood dripping from its wounded arm. Felicia smirked, drawing her own weapon - a wicked looking blade encrusted with demonic symbols.

"Looks like dinner's cancelled, big guy." She taunted. "How about you pick on someone your own size instead?"

With a roar, the monster charged. Felicia met it head on with a fierce battle cry, diving into hand to hand combat with seemingly reckless abandon. But Dean knew from experience she was always several steps ahead.

While the rugaru was distracted swiping at Felicia, Dean circled around behind and took aim again. This time his bullet found its mark between the creature's massive shoulder blades. It howled and fell to one knee, giving Felicia an opening to deliver a killing stroke across its throat.

Black ichor spurted as the rugaru collapsed dead at their feet. Felicia flashed Dean a triumphant grin, hair and clothes splattered with viscera. "And that's how it's done, darling!"

Dean allowed himself a faint smile in return before turning to check on the traumatized teen. "You okay, kid? Think you can make it home alright?"

The boy could only nod mutely, still in shock. Dean gave him a supportive pat on the shoulder before ushering him off into the trees, keeping watch til he was out of sight.

When he turned back, Felicia was giving him a look of naked appreciation. "Not bad teamwork, if I do say so myself. Tell me that wasn't at least a little fun, Dean."

For once, Dean didn't argue. Saving civilians and taking down monsters - that was what he lived for. And he had to admit, working with Felicia had its perks too when they weren't at each other's throats. Against his better judgment, he flashed her a crooked grin.

"Maybe you're growing on me a bit, she-demon. Don't let it go to your head though."

Felicia threw her head back with a delighted cackle. This partnership was really starting to heat up.

Felicia smirked, beyond pleased with how the night was progressing. Victory always tasted sweeter when shared with a handsome partner.

"So now that the case is solved, what do you say we go celebrate our success?" She slid closer to Dean, running her knife along his collarbone teasingly.

To her surprise, Dean actually chuckled. "Normally I'd say you're buying the drinks. But considering you're related to Crowley..."

Felicia pouted playfully. "You wound me! I'll have you know I can be very generous when properly motivated."

"Is that so?" Dean regarded her thoughtfully. "Alright then, demon, you're on. One drink, your treat. But then we part ways for good."

Felicia raised a brow. So he was willing to indulge her after all. This was going even better than planned.

She flashed them away in a burst of sulfur, reappearing inside a rowdy bar in a seedy part of town. Dean stared around in mild surprise as Felicia dragged him to the counter.

"Two of your finest whiskey, bartender!" She cried theatrically. The bartender slid them over warily, eyeing Felicia like she might blow the place sky high.

Dean gave a bemused snort and raised his glass in a toast. "To surviving another day."

Felicia clicked her glass against his. "And to many more hunts together in the future."

Dean choked on his sip at that, coughing as Felicia cackled. But when he met her gaze again, his eyes held a glint of amusement rather than irritation.

Maybe working with the she-demon wouldn't be such a chore after all. Stranger things had happened in Dean Winchester's life. And Felicia was nothing if not entertaining.

hope you guys like the fic!

@jackiequick @missstrawbs2001 @blueboirick @cherrysft @gaminggirlsstuff @meiramel