#but again: not switching back to unity

[slitherpunk]

not gonna lie it's taking a Lot of willpower to stick with godot

[sockenpuppe]

[theshiftingwitch]

Reality shifting

Demystifying the basics:

In order to have a better grasp of the concept of shifting, we must address the beliefs that brought us here in the first place.

Shifting got really popular on TikTok in 2020 (thank you DracoTok) and with it, misinformation came a plenty. So let's deconstruct the notion, pull it apart, and make it as simple as we can.

What is reality shifting?

To shift is to become aware of a different reality.

That's it. That's all there is to it.

Like changing the channel or flipping through the radio, all of creation is finished and all of the possible realities that you could potentially think of already exist. All you have to do is switch your awareness from one to the other.

But how did we get here? How do we do it? CAN we do it?

Well, let's see:

In order to believe in shifting in the first place, you have to at least be a little bit spiritual. And if that's the case, then ask yourself this:

Do you believe that you are the universe having a human experience? That you are the creator and the creation?

If the answer is yes, then you have a grasp of the basics.

You see, there is no fundamental separation between you and the universe. You are not a separate entity from the Cosmos.

You are the Cosmos.

This idea is not new. It is not some new age spiritual BS that sprouted into existence a few decades ago. It is an ancient philosophical and spiritual belief spanning back decades. Hinduism, Buddhism, and Taoism emphasize the concept of Atman (the soul) being identical to Brahman (the ultimate reality), suggesting a unity of consciousness. Many mystical traditions, from Sufism to Christian mysticism, have explored the idea of divine consciousness within the human being. Contemporary spiritual movements often incorporate this concept, emphasizing personal transformation and connection to a higher power.

In simple terms, you are all that there is, all that there was, and all that there will ever be.

So if you answered no to my previous question, read this again and tell me your thoughts.

Now that we got the basic concept out of the way, let's talk about shifting, other realities, and your moral compass.

If you agreed that shifting is becoming aware of another reality that you already exist in, and if you're on board with the notion that you are the divine, the creator, the universe herself, what is actually stopping you from shifting?

Nothing.

Nothing is standing in your way, nothing is blocking you from shifting. There is no more work to be done, no more attempts to fail, no more research to explore. All you have to do is let go. Release this hold that perfection, stress, and eagerness have on you, breathe in and know that you have already shifted.

It is done.

You are successful.

In the same vein, if you are completely and utterly convinced that you are the universe, you are all there is and all there will be, you are everything and nothing, what makes you so sure that your current form is your true one?

If you believe in reincarnation then you know that you have had many faces, many bodies, many races, many ages, many lives, many experiences...

Same with shifting. This reality is not the metric in which you measure someone's righteousness. It is not the one and only form in which you are stuck within forever. You are the creator, and you, as you experience yourself, already are all of the ages, all of the faces, all of the genders and the races and the ethnicities and the creations around you. You are the rock and the house and the cat and the butterfly. You are the mean neighbor who constantly complains and the little girl skipping rope on your driveway. You are the bus driver who is always grumpy and the old lady at the market who always smiles when she sees you. You are the dictator causing havoc and the victim suffering from oppression. You are both the bad and the good, because that is the essence of your experience. You are me, I am you. We are the one consciousness.

Morality is by no means subjective, but it is also your creation. You made the rules and you enforced them and you rebelled against them. You are the one and only.

So why measure someone's morality by where or who they decide to shift to? Why judge their existence and believe yourself superior for adhering to a set of rules you created? Nothing is set in stone and no two people shift to the same exact reality, so why hinder yourself? Why limit your experience?

Do you have any idea how lucky you are to know about shifting in the first place?

There are currently 8 billion people at this point in time in this reality, and you happen to be among the very few who are aware of such wonderful experience, of such divine knowledge. Are you really going to spend that time judging other people's choice of reality? And on the other hand, are you really going to let other people dictate, police, and limit your experience?

At the end of it all, we all go back to the same origin.

The one great consciousness, where there is no judgement, no superiority or inferiority complex, no finger pointing and virtue signaling. We simply exist.

Have fun on your shifting journey, know that your experience is yours and that you decide how it goes.

Be a good person, live your best lives, and spread love as much as you can ❤️

[piplup335]

Subspace x reader enemies to lovers!

oh my days I almost DIED just writing this thing

this was painful to write to the ending may seem quite rushed aAAAAAAA I’M SORRY

regardless, this is the last thing on the agenda! so just sit back and enjoy the fic :>

…I hope my blog is still alive enough for people to appreciate it…

credits to one of my friends on Discord for helping me with this!

╔══════ ⋯⇋ ૮(•͈⌔•͈)ა ⇌⋯ ══════╗

╚══════⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯ ══════╝

You loved participating in phights. It was your job and hobby and you really couldn't ask for a better life. The once-mundane days took a turn for the better once you joined the roster. Now you work alongside other Phighters as well as the Flipside duo to give the residents of the Inpherno some daily entertainment and to you, your daily income.

Your job was great, and the people you worked with were wonderful. Despite not knowing them because the majority came from other factions, they were still welcoming and hospitable to you, their new teammate. Sometimes. It depends on whether or not they were matched up against you for the day. Their teamwork with you was always impeccable and synchronisation was on-point. Still, one person was on the roster where harmonisation and unity could never be found in any of your books. No, instead of strategising and executing meticulously planned attacks, the both of you would fight over who gets the last hit. Even when the both of you worked together, you would still bicker with him like an old married couple.

It was Blackrock's infamous mad scientist, Subspace T. Mine.

You two could never agree on anything, be it which direction to ambush enemies from or what colour would look good on the other.

All the Phighters still remembered the latter. You and Subspace started an entire 30-minute argument debating that alone...

While waiting for your scheduled phight, you saw Subspace sitting on a bench and polishing one of his Biografts with a small cloth. As usual, to you, he was dressed like an absolute buffoon. The look on his face was one of tranquillity and care as he tended to his Biograft. So, you being you...you decided to ruin that moment for him.

"Oi, Subflop! Dressed like a walking fashion disaster again, huh? When will you switch that old Blackrock attire for something more stylish?"

Subspace looked up from his cleaning, his once peaceful and calm demeanour shattering. His face fell, and an annoyed groan escaped his lips.

"(Y/N), shut up!! It's not like you know any better to begin with!! You look like something from a sitcom during the 1900s, so you have no right to criticise me for my fashion sense!!"

"If I told you to shut up, your mouth would probably hurt from all that rot!"

"You little-"

As the both of you started bickering over another useless topic, Valk and Dom walked in to signal that the map was ready for the grounds of another phight...only to watch you and Subspace all up in each other's faces again. Valk watched on in mild shock and Dom just let out a weary sigh. By then, even the Flipside brothers were well aware and accustomed to the constant quarrels between the both of you.

"Looks like the phight's underway before it even started, huh...?"

After one long and tiring year, the Christmas season was here. Valk and Dom had the oh-so-wonderful idea of throwing a Christmas party to celebrate. They invited all the Phighters, including Subspace.

This time, you added extra precautions to ensure nothing could go wrong during that day. Not for you, at the very least. You could care less about what happened to Subspace. Although...recently, you've been feeling a little weird inside.

Long gone was your loathing for him. By now, you've accustomed yourself to the name-calling, all the teases and insults...but instead of feeling pure hatred towards him for the daily jabs, you felt warm inside. A sense of familiarity. It was almost affectionate, in a sense. It was as if, just for once in your life, you cared about what happened to him.

Your mind wandered to the events of what happened a few days ago. Of course, given the rivalry between the both of you, none of you would give up the opportunity to mock each other during the party. Hence, Subspace gave you a dare.

Dress in your usual Phighter outfit. Not a suit, not anything stupid like a carrot costume. Just you and the outfit you always wore while phighting.

Of course, who were you to say no? You accepted the dare despite the risk of standing out like a sore thumb and decided to go along. Then again, what’s the fun of a dare without a little self-implemented twist? This was a party, after all. It didn’t have as strict of a dress code as phights.

So, you got to work on your new fit. You added a few details here and there, such as a small bow tie and slightly more casual outerwear compared to your Phighter outfit. “It retains the same vibe,” you thought to yourself, “just a few new modifications here and there.”

After many days and nights, you finally finished your final touchups. It was elegant, yet casual. Your gear rested by your side, strapped on via your belt. You opted for a hat you liked, but never got to wear due to the nature of Phights. Gone were the usual armour pieces you wore, allowing you to opt for comfortable clothing. And you finished all that just in time too, for the party was two days away, on Saturday.

Now all you had to do was get through one more day of Subspace’s mockery and teasing.

He wasn't gonna make it easy for you, was he? Of course not...it was Subspace, after all. Since when has he done anything other than annoy you?

This phight, however, the both of you were on the same team. Despite the many rounds the both of you played together, it would not change the fact that no one was willing to give up the rivalry and work together.

As the round kicked off and the Phighters got at each other's throats, so did you and Subspace...

"Come on, Midspace! When are you gonna man up and go for some close combat?!"

You flashed him a cocky grin as you rushed at the Phighter whose health Subspace slowly whittled down and finished him off with your gear. All he could do was groan in annoyance as he got another kill assist...which he now had four of. You, on the other hand, had stolen four kills from Subspace.

"Leave me alone, (Y/n)!! Just let me get some kills for my reputation as the greatest scientist of Blackrock!!"

You cackled in his face, as you always did to taunt him. It had become a staple of your day to do anything in your power to annoy him. Unfortunately, you didn't watch your step and walked right into one of the bright blue target marks on the floor- Rocket's phinisher. A loud blast and a panicked screech from you was all it took for him to divert his attention from your ally, Coil, and face your injured self. You tried to plead with Coil for help, but he was already gone to heal Scythe, who had also been caught in Rocket's phinisher earlier.

It was now a deadly 1 on 1 between yourself and Rocket. You were severely wounded and below 50% HP. Rocket was still in good condition and could definitely hit you from where he stood. The outcome of the match was clear as day.

Furthermore, this phight was one of the Annihilate matches, and it was going to end soon. Your team was behind by three kills. The score was 24-27, and there were only forty-five seconds left on the clock.

Forty-five seconds. More than enough time for Rocket to finish you off.

A smug grin formed on Rocket's face as he launched himself up in the air. You could see his darkened silhouette in the bright daylight as he aimed his rocket launcher at you with his prosthetic arm.

"Time to blow stuff up!"

Rocket's projectiles caused damage spanning over a large area, and you knew that. With your reduced movement speed due to your injuries, you knew that you wouldn't be able to outrun the missile.

As you closed your eyes, waiting for the final blow and for the counter to increase itself by one, you felt a harsh jab to your side. You fell over, gasping in pain as you glanced up at your saviour who took most of the damage for you, leaving you at 15 HP instead.

Subspace. That cocky, arrogant Phighter who you hated. Or so you told yourself.

"Out of the way!! Witness MY GREATEST INVENTION!!"

Rocket tried to flee, but it was too late. He was rendered helpless as he was sucked into the swirling vortex created by the crystal. Before anyone could react, five shots were fired behind Rocket. At last...the tie was broken. 25-27.

The counter went up in your favour. 27-27. Scythe and Coil both had triumphant grins on their faces as they rushed back to the battlefield, Coil immediately connecting his coil to you to regenerate your lost HP.

"We got 'em good! Those suckers won't be respawning for the rest of the match!"

Your blood froze as you saw the enemy Slingshot turn the corner. The four of you had been found. Slingshot's eyes locked with yours. He noticed everything about you- the pained look in your eyes, the way you grasped your arm in pain...he knew you were vulnerable.

And if attacking you meant that he could have a final shot at settling the score despite putting himself in danger, he would do it. He dealt damage faster than you could heal, and Slingshot knew it.

He pulled back the band of his slingshot, aiming for a kill... and the win.

"Nice try- agh!"

A quick slash to his back caused him to release the projectile just before it fully charged. It struck you just as you reached 50 HP. 30 HP left...and twenty seconds on the clock.

Scythe rematerialised behind him, a faint teal mark hovering over his torso.

"Leaving so soon?"

Not even Slingshot's shoes could save him from the wrath of your three teammates. Scythe took advantage of her mark to land a good slash. Subspace finally hit one of his tripmines and managed to deal long-term poison damage. Even Coil could land a hit with his projectiles.

But Slingahot had tricks of his own. Just as Scythe was about to finish him off with one final cut to the back, he deftly stepped to the side.

Scythe and Coil were almost out of tricks.

As Slingshot hovered in midair and charged up for another shot, your blood went cold as you remembered one single fact.

Singshot's projectiles charged up two times faster when he was in midair.

Ten seconds remaining on the clock. Scythe missed her Chasing Flourish, and Coil missed his Combo Breaker. All their efforts to stop Scythe had failed, and you were going to die. You knew it.

Scythe and Coil were both out of tricks...but Subspace was not.

Slingshot was battered and bruised, but he had his eyes on you as he prepared to fire the finishing shot.

He did not have eyes for the tripmine to his right, however. One wrong step and the quiet beeping of the tripmine was replaced by an ear-piercing bang.

28-27. Three...two...one. The voice of the announcer over the speakers confirmed it- your team had secured victory.

As all ten Phighters piled into the back of Zuka's van, you glanced over at Subspace. He seemed to be deep in thought about something. His eyes seemed to be glancing at every detail on the ground, from the stray breadcrumbs to the neat ridges imprinted in the rubber flooring.

"What's on your mind, Subspace...?"

His one eye widened at your voice. He couldn't recall when was the last time you called him by his actual name instead of yet another insulting term.

"...nothing much, (Y/N). Just...forget it."

You could see his face flush slightly, but you ignored it and just stared out the van as it drove along the dirt pavement back to Crossroads. You were thinking back to the events of that phight. You thought about how Scythe and Coil showed up at the right time, about how you almost caused your team to lose and how Subspace saved you back there...wait.

Subspace saved you.

Instead of prioritising your downfall, he actually went out of his way to save you.

During previous matches, he wouldn't care if he caused the entire team to lose. Subspace didn't care if he had to respawn after that, he didn't care if anyone got injured...if he could do something that hindered you in any way, he would do it. But this time...he saved you.

"Why did you help me?" You asked. "You usually try your best to make sure I die, but you assisted me this time."

Subspace stayed silent for a moment, his eye seemingly fixed on a random spot on the ground. He looked up at you, his gaze averted.

"...I just wanted to win this time. Don't get too comfortable with it."

And just like that, he went back to staring at the ground like it was no big deal. Although this time, you could have sworn he was stealing small but subtle glances at you every now and then.

24th December. The day of the Christmas party, and another day you'd have to see that damned Subspace.

As you looked at yourself in the mirror, you couldn't help but feel proud of your handiwork. You managed to transform your usual Phighter outfit into something so stylish.

You paced around your room, thinking to yourself. Your mind wandered to Subspace daring you to show up in your Phighter outfit.

The more you pondered over that day, the more confused you were by your prior decision. Why did you agree to go along with it? Why were you still sticking with the dare?

"Well," you told yourself, "I like this outfit. It's something I'd wear on a daily basis, minus the armour plates. Yeah...that's why."

Your mind wandered to what Subspace would be wearing at the party. Would he be wearing a suit? Would he be going casual? It wasn't like the Flipside brothers organised a fancy ballroom party after all, it was just a celebratory party located in a rented villa. Perhaps Subspace would look nice? Wait...

...why did you care about how he would look?

Did you truly hate him? Or was it just something you told yourself on a regular basis just to mask how you really felt for him?

Ah, you had more issues to worry about anyway. The party would start in half an hour, after all. You added the final touches to your look and left the house only to be greeted by a blanket of snow coating the soft grass. There was a snowstorm the previous night, so everything looked like something out of Blackrock.

...Blackrock...you wondered. Did Subspace put on winter wear whenever he wasn't working? Did he look cute in it?

"No!" You reprimanded yourself. But the more you tried to deny it, the weaker your own rebuttals became.

You had fallen for the mad scientist after who knows how long.

It was almost expected, in a way. Although you hated each other, this also meant that the both of you knew each other well...but used that information against each other instead.

Maybe things would be different if the both of you stopped mocking each other. Maybe you should buy him his favourite coffee with some nice toppings...

You were deep in thought as you walked towards the bus stop. Your eyes were fixed on the soft snow, your mind already somewhere else, drifting away like the little snowflakes in the sky.

You also did not notice the person in front of you.

Bumping into the individual, you let out an "oof" as you fell to the floor with a soft thump. As the both of you met each other's eyes, you were filled with a mix of irritation and...infatuation...?

Subspace Tripmine was standing in front of you. In a suit.

He even had a small white rose tucked into his pocket like he was going to some romantic ball.

A small blush crept onto your cheeks as you took in his appearance. For once, you actually thought he looked quite attractive.

You didn't know it, but he did too.

Now instead of it being a dispute about who was the better Phighter, it was a silent war between the both of you as to who would confess first.

You saw the signs. So did Subspace. But denial can only last so long...

"Hey...you look nice."

Subspace was, for once, actually calm when he spoke to you. It was almost as if he was trying to act like a decent and civilised individual for once.

"Thanks...for once, you don't look too bad yourself, hm?"

"What do you mean?! When do I not look good?!"

"Every other time, Fartspace."

"You-!!"

Despite the romantic tension in the air, the both of you still found something to fight over...but soon enough, the chat was less of two rivals bickering... and more of two hopeless romantics trying to express their interest in the other in the most subtle way possible, but failing horribly at it.

Well, it was mostly you trying to get him to confess.

"If only we talked like this more often...maybe we'd be dating by now."

"Trying to swoon me, (Name)?"

"Swoon you? Please, since when did I ever try to swoon you, poison-tongue?"

Internally, Subspace was a blushing mess. He'd long since realised his true feelings for you, and he knew you were starting to catch on. He knew you just wanted to see him flustered, and it was working perfectly.

By the time the bus finally arrived, the both of you had faint pinkish tints on your cheeks. The both of you flirted with each other to the Banlands and back, and you almost felt...closer to him, in a sense. You did get to know him better. You knew his favourite pastry now, his type of coffee...heck, the both of you even managed to chat about life outside of Phights.

But despite the prior rivalry, you didn't want to use that information to annoy or mock him. No, you wanted to do something nice for him instead.

Maybe you'd ask if he'd like to go to the nearby cafe with you. Just the two of you. Perhaps even call it a date, just for funsies.

Unfortunately for the both of you, you both had to part ways at the villa. Subspace wanted to meet up with Hyperlaser for some discussions, and you had your friends you wanted to find.

"Well, guess this is it, Subspace. I'll see you around, yeah?"

"Sure thing...!! Don't think this means our rivalry is over, though!!"

Subspace waved at you as you walked off to find your friends. Hyperlaser stood behind Subspace, waiting for him to send you off.

"I'll see you later..."

His voice dropped to a whisper so only he could hear the next words that left his mouth.

"...my sweetest poison-berry."

╔══════ ⋯⇋ ૮(•͈⌔•͈)ა ⇌⋯ ══════╗

╚══════⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯ ══════╝

and that’s it for this fic! hope you all enjoyed, and do drop a request into my inbox or feedback if you have any!

thank you for reading! :D

[yatsurinamikaze]

Swan and Shadow [Sakusa Kiyoomi x Miya!Reader]

Summary: Where the brooding Sakusa Kiyoomi unknowingly falls in love with the Miya sister. What happens next?

Chapter 16 [Masterlist]

The facility is unusually loud for a Tuesday morning.

Light stands line the corridor, a styling team’s set up camp in the main hall, and there’s a sign taped to the main door that reads:

FACILITY CALENDAR SHOOT – DO NOT ENTER WITHOUT A SMILE.

It’s the annual tradition—twelve months of peak performance: athletes, dancers, and every brand partner’s dream of unity and grit. The facility’s annual calendar shoot is in full swing. This is how they get their funding and get top athletes to join one of the best facilities in the country.

They’re doing a "Discipline in Motion" theme this year—pulling in athletes and performers from across departments for stylized action shots.

You weren’t going to be part of it, but Shinjiro had other plans.

“You’re the only ballerina here who doesn’t look like she’s two pirouettes away from punching someone,” he said, grinning as he shoved a clipboard into your hand. He bent down to your ear level and says, “Plus, it’s good publicity babe.” He winks at you as he leaves you saluting a good bye.

You look around—chaotic. Interns are running with clipboards, stylists are chasing athletes with hair gel, and Bokuto is trying to convince the lighting guy to add glitter to his section because, “Bro. March needs sparkle.”

You spot Hinata mid-handstand near the shoot area, while Atsumu fake-lunges at a cameraman yelling, “Get my good side, ya menace!”

The photographer mutters, “You don’t have a good side,” before walking off.

Sakusa’s there too. Voluntold by PR.

You read the clipboard in your hand, Sakusa’s scheduled first. You last.

You sit in the row of chairs, warming up quietly, trying not to look over every few seconds. But you do. You chuckle once when you see the makeup artist takes out his mask as he scowls like he’s being tortured. And then he catches you staring.

Blank face. No expression. Just… nothing.

You blink and immediately look away, annoyed at yourself. What are you doing?

You force your eyes to the floor—right as the makeup artist leans in close to Sakusa again, brushing under his jawline, her face close, her smile flirty. He doesn’t move. You look back up at him, just sits there, staring at her like she's the most interesting thing in the room. 

She trips a little, and he immediately holds her by the waist as she starts falling towards him. She whispers something in his ear which brings out a small chuckle from him.

 You dont think you can handle this anymore. You get up and move to the other side.

He goes first—four or five jumps in front of the camera, sharp and calculated. But the feedback isn’t great. The photographers say he’s too stiff, too controlled. They ask him to stretch out, loosen up, come back later.

In between his takes, the makeup artist keeps rushing to him—powdering, adjusting, fixing his hair that barely moved. You stop watching at this point. Everyone else takes their shots as you wait.

You’re the last one to go. (Well, except Sakusa - who’s waiting for his final shots to be taken.)

They dim the lights. The spotlight switches on, cool and soft across the studio. You step into it, center stage.

The photographer asks, “Ready?” You nod. He holds the camera up high, “3-2-1, Go!”

Your first jump is clean. Controlled. Calm. Everyone’s heads turn toward you as the shutter clicks, your landing soft and grounded. 

The photographer calls you to him, you see yourself on the monitor—mid-air, arm arched, expression sharp.

The photographer smiles. “That was beautiful. Let’s get one more for variety? Maybe try bending..” He points towards your back’s curvature in the photograph, while moving towards you, “a little more backwards.”

You nod, stepping back. The lights dim again.

You launch into the jump this time, feeling the full extension, the flash capturing your form just as your body twists through the air.

But then, you land. On the wrong heel.

Pain shoots up your leg, sharp and unrelenting. Your eyebrow scrunches for half a second, your foot stumbles half an inch out of place before you catch yourself and force the smallest smile. Nobody notices anything, you sigh in relief.

The lights go up. The photographer calls, “That’s a wrap for this one. Let’s get the finale one ready.” He walks over to you, “Showing you your photo in the camera., “Gosh, you are just breathtaking.” You thank him politely and leave the photography setup.

You know you’ve done damage. You don’t show it. Just keep walking y/n, you tell yourself, just keep walking.

Sakusa is nearby, quietly waiting for his re-take, barely ten feet away. You walk past him like nothing happened.

LOL. I sometimes feel like im just feeding into my own imagination by writing these. Self serving.

[isa-moon-man]

Can you believe that this show started 5 years ago?

This is an animatic that I made for my TOH AU, Emperor of the Owls. I made it a couple of years ago, and am now finally posting it. I was originally going to animate the last bit of the song, but didn't end up doing that.

Basically, in this AU, Eda and Belos’s curses are switched. Eda is… whatever Belos was, and Belos/Phillip is the Owl Beast. Their characters have been slightly altered in this AU. Belos is a caring uncle, and truly cares about Hunter, but his curse has caused him to hurt Hunter unintentionally, and he carries a fair amount of guilt, because of it. 

By the time that the Day of Unity arrived, he wasn’t sure of what to do. Go back to the Human Realm, leaving the Boiling Isles as one of the monsters he sought to destroy? What would Hunter think, when he realized that his uncle was going to destroy the Boiling Isles?

Eda is referred to as the Beast Queen. Everyone who joined the Emperor’s Coven had their palismen destroyed. Eda would steal them, using them as a means of keeping her curse at bay, though it truly only made it harder to stay in control, the more of them she consumed. When she was younger, Eda went behind her father’s back, stealing some of the palismen that he had carved, after having destroyed and consumed one by accident and realizing that it kept her from transforming. She was then caught, and after a stressful confrontation, she transformed into the beast, hurting her father by accident.

Lilith cursed her sister, turning her into a monster. 

Over the years, Lilith made many attempts to convince Eda to join the Emperor’s Coven. Of course, Eda never did. 

One night, Lilith located Eda yet again, and told her about how she should join the coven, and how the Emperor could heal her curse, etc.

Eda told her sister to get lost, as she didn’t have the time to deal with her. Especially not at that very low point in Eda’s life. She didn’t take her and Raine’s breakup very well, and had no way of hiding the curse that caused a rift between them. The closest thing she could do was hide it using a concealment stone. But she still knew what was lying underneath the illusion; and so did the rest of the Boiling Isles. 

She had to deal with raising King now, as well. Between her internal struggles with her curse, trying to take care of King and hide the curse from him, dealing with her mother trying to heal her curse, and Lilith’s constant attempts at getting her to join the Enperor’s coven, Eda was not in a good place, and her feelings were severely clouding her judgement. 

So, Lilith’s words gave her an idea; she had found someone to blame for her pain.

Lilith always went on about how Belos could heal her curse, and how powerful he was… If he could heal her curse… maybe he was the one who gave it to her. After all, her first transformation happened on the day she fought her sister for a spot in the Emperor’s coven. 

She convinced herself that Belos had wanted to keep her from ever joining his coven; that he had a vision, and saw that she was a threat, and was too powerful, so he gave her this curse to keep her from reaching her true potential.

So she plotted her revenge. She would curse him, and make him feel her pain. However, similarly to King’s dad, the Titan himself, she attacked the wrong person, and dragged him down for nothing.

Not that this version of Belos is entirely innocent.

Belos’s magic was purely artificial; without his staff, all he could do was put on a show and make it look like he had magic of his own. Even his armour could generate artificial magic. But, without all of that, he was nothing more than a human made to look like a witch. Though he had his ways of staying alive for so many years.

Eda snuck into the Emperor’s castle at night, using her curse to get around unseen. After a while of looking, she found the Emperor’s room. She wasn’t known as the most powerful witch and beast on the Boiling Isles for nothing. 

She cursed the Emperor, though she had no idea how long that curse would last for, nor how long he would have to suffer from it.

The next day, Belos sat in his throne room, listening to Kikimora and Lilith going over their reports, and Hunter—who was just a child, who would someday be the next Golden Guard—stood with Belos, as he always did.

All was proceeding as usual, until Belos tried to stand, only to fall to his knees in pain. In moments, he was transformed into a feathered beast. By the time he turned back, and realized what had happened, several Coven scouts had lost their lives, and Kikimora, Lilith, and Hunter were injured. He was horrified by what he had done—his “nephew” was covered in his own blood.

Shortly after that, Hunter ran away, afraid that the Owl Beast would suddenly reappear, and kill him. Eventually, Lilith was able to find him. She managed to take part of Hunter’s wounds, but no amount of magic could undo the damage that had been done.

Belos’s curse became one of the best kept secrets in the Emperor’s Coven, and his armour was altered to accommodate each new, beastly feature as the curse ate away at his human body.

After Eda had been found in Raine’s place (during the season 2 finale) she was taken before Belos. Since she met Luz, Eda had started to regret what she had done—especially when she found out that Lilith was the one who had cursed her, not Belos. What would Luz and King think, when they found out what she had done, and what her reasons were for doing it? And what about Lilith? She had many scars that the Owl Beast had given her.

Having been given a chance to distract the Emperor and to come clean, she admitted that she was the one who cursed him; which made Belos want nothing more than to kill Eda for what she had done. Within moments, he had transformed into the Owl Beast. 

Hunter had learned that the spell that Lilith used to take on part of Eda’s curse was the same one that she used to use on his wounds when he was younger. He had to use it one day, when he couldn’t get Belos to turn back from the Owl Beast, no matter how hard he tried. So now Hunter was cursed as well; and Belos resented Lilith for ever teaching him the spell.

Once he found out that Eda had cursed him; and was the reason why Hunter now also had to suffer from that same curse, Belos nearly killed her.

[themontess]

6 and 15 for your Rook/Lucanis pairing? 👀🍿

Grab the popcorn! 🍿

6. What is their favorite thing to do together? Do they share any hobbies? Does your Rook teach their partner their own hobbies? Does the partner teach Rook theirs?

Rook's defining hobby is that she loves puzzles, and it is mentioned several times in Feather and Scale that she tries to teach Lucanis how to solve cryptic crossword clues (unsuccessfully, but not without effort from both of them). I have a headcanon of him buying her a puzzle serial, only to realise afterwards that all the word puzzles are in Antivan, and they end up spending the whole day trying to solve it together 👀 In general, they both have quite quiet hobbies and they are happy to just do them in each other's company. 15. What was the partner's reaction to Rook being imprisoned in the Fade? How did they cope? How did they react upon seeing Rook again?

Initially, I think there would be disbelief. Rook has been there nearly every single day since she rescued Lucanis, so his model of the outside world sort of crumbles without her in it. That disbelief would then turn to sheer bloody mindedness to get her back, which might look emotionless as he continues to move through all his daily routines - the cooking, the exercise/training, whatever else the surviving Veilguard needs - but is really his way of locking down and focusing on what needs to be done. Meanwhile, Spite is absolutely losing his shit about Rook's absence, trying to make deals with anyone and everyone to be separated from Lucanis, because if he can go back to the Fade, if he can reach her… Even though, of course, they can't be separated, it would kill Lucanis etc. So then he sulks, and occasionally bullies Lucanis when he feels like the latter isn't working hard enough. In my headcanon, they both have some pretty serious feelings for Rook they've been dancing around a little, and I think her absence would force them to actually talk about it and deal.

The moment they pull Rook out of the Fade is one of absolute clarity and unity, wrapping their arms around her and - yes - crying into her hair, because it feels like they have been rescued all over again. Then it's a switch into absolute service gear, making sure she has exactly what she needs, and not wasting a moment. Time found. Love, and total vengeance wielded like a sharpened blade against those who separated them.

[project-sekai-facts]

Your recent update made me wonder about something. I don’t know how much you know about this but wanted to try asking anyway. Hopefully this makes sense? Why would the English translation choose to censor things? I assume translations are being done in America where queer things are slowly becoming more accepted but is that a factor? Are the translators themselves changing certain things due to their own biases? I don’t know who they are and don’t want to assume anything about them, but I can’t help wondering if that’s part of the reason? Or is it because of something like, for example, sometimes movies or TV shows have certain content removed based on where it’s being aired, so is it something like that? Is the game being released in regions where queer content is banned or removed? Now that I wrote it, I feel like this is the most likely answer but what do you think? I basically just rambled in your ask my bad. Also, do you know if the Korean and/or Taiwan servers have censorship too?

oh there's more than just the Asahi thing and i have mentioned it in passing before but i'll cover it properly here. "the miles i fell in love with is so cool" -> "it was so cool! i guess that's miles for you" is definitely the biggest example though.

First off, a minor thing. it doesn't really happen anymore but in the earlier translations they quite often use words other than partner, like "pals" and "buds", in the VBS story. Probably one of the best examples of this would be An and Kohane's 3rd kizuna title, which the JP name was often fan-translated as "Making each other better" or "Raising each other up", and is called "Two supportive pals" on EN. Which does have the same meaning but the "pals" seems so unneccesary when they could've used partners. The original text is Takameau futari, the first part means "to raise" or "to lift" and futari means "two people" or "a pair/couple". So it technically is a good enough translation but using pals when partners would be more accurate to canon just seems.. off.

I’m assuming their avoidance of the word partner is because it could easily be misinterpreted as romantic, but they seem to have moved on from that at this point.

There's also THE POWER OF UNITY where they switch out "love" (daisuki) for "cares about a lot" when KAITO is comparing the relationship between Arata and Souma to Akito and Toya. Daisuki literally means "likes a lot" so often you'll see people translate it as love, though likes a lot is still valid. "Cares about" is not a direct translation but definitely can still convey the same meaning, so again instance of valid localisation it just seems like an odd choice when using love would've conveyed the exact same meaning and been more true to the original.

Then you've got another instance of them not translating daisuki correctly in Dear Me, As I Was Back Then (sorry this one is a wiki screenshot my phone died). This is worse. Like I guess if you really want then it does have a close enough meaning to the original. Like I guess daisuki meaning "like a lot" or "love" could be localised as "you're the best" if you really wanted it too. But even then, the line before this is "I'm gonna show just how much I admire her!". Minori's shout of "I LOVE YOUUU" from the original would be way more fitting here. "You're the best" feels too casual and buddy-buddy - even if Minori didn't know Haruka at this point, Haruka still had a big impact on her life and imo "I love you" would be the best to use here.

There’s also this one from Walk on and on that removes one key thing. In the original, Toya says something more along the lines of “I was able to make this track because I want to continue to be a partner who can stand shoulder-to-shoulder with you from now on and always”. This is a bit more similar to the Asahi incident in that they’ve restructured the sentence to make it two, adding in the thing about performing which isn’t even there originally, and replacing “korekara saki mo zutto” with “keep singing with you”. And “keep singing with you” still works, but it’s much more toned down, let’s say. You know what really is odd about this translation though? If the quote I put seems familiar, it’s because it’s also the name of Toya’s event card. Kinda odd they omitted that from the story then, huh? The thing is the translation of the card is very accurate so removing it from the story starts to seem intentional, especially when everything around it is accurately translated like with the Asahi incident. Also doing this removes the fact that the card name references the story so what the hell are you doing EN? It's the same sentence, if you can translate it correctly on the card you can translate it correctly in the story.

There's definitely more than this, this is just what came to mind first and I don't want to make this post too long.

These were certainly... choices. Especially with the ones that avoid translating daisuki as love because they do translate as that on other occasions, most frequently with An and Kohane. I'm assuming the reason they omitted it with the guys is because it's far harder to pass off guys saying that they love each other as platonic because societal expectations or whatever, but I'm actually surprised by the change to Dear Me because normally they're pretty good with Minori and Haruka usually. Like they've translated daisuki correctly for them before and leave in everything else that indicates Minori has a crush on Haruka, so why not this line?

I'm tempted to say that they just change the things that they think are too hard to safely pass off as platonic, but then again they left all of the unsubtle ship teasing in Buddy Funny Spend Time, which has a lot of focus on Minori and Haruka's relationship (and they even added in Haruka saying that Minori makes her heart tickle in her card story), so I'm genuinely not sure why they left that in but then changed one instance of Minori saying she loves Haruka which doesn't even have to be interpreted romantically. Like what is the limit here? An can say she's going on a date (with Kohane) and the WEG regulars can ask who she's been seeing, but Asahi can say he fell in love with Tsukasa's character and it gets removed. Both of them have romantic connotation. The only thing I can think of is that An's comes from a whole card story and event, but Asahi's is one line that's easy to remove. Same with Toya saying he wants to stay with Akito forever.

In other words, it's a mess and I don't think any of what I just wrote is coherent either.

Interpret all of this however you will at the end of the day it’s all just ship tease which is up to interpretation anyway. Except the Asahi thing. That one is a censor.

Oh and the KR and TW servers don’t do this.

[bobacupcake]

Hi Rob! After the events of last year I was really saddened by what happened with Unity, and haven't checked on it since. It feels like people are talking about Unity like normal again... Did things change back and it's okay to use again, or should I completely scrap my project?

unity walked back some of the changes, main points being

fee is no longer retroactive, only applies to unity 2024 and up

fee only applies to games with over 1 million in revenue over the course of a year, AND 1 million users

fee is now a choice between either self reported downloads, or a flat 2.5% revshare, whichever is lower, over the initial 1 million

ceo resigned

what that means for you is up to you ! most people are still pretty unhappy about the initial breach of trust. for bigger companies this also still means the per-seat cost that they were used to PLUS revshare, so a lot of them are considering switching to unreal since thats just revshare, but, i assume most of us here are not bigger companies, so its really just a case of, what you want to do with it

personally i am sticking with unity because i just cant really afford to learn another engine right now (which would probably be godot since getting away from unity just to go to unreal seems counterproductive for me . also i just dont like using unreal ..) godots also still a bit in its early stages, and this will absolutely change with all the attention its gotten, but again i cant really wait for that to happen.. and while some of my 8years of unity experience will carry over, id have to relearn a lot too and its just not feasible for someone who needs to launch a game like. Last Year

a lot of people still are switching though just because of the initial breach of trust, knowing that something like this could happen Again , jumping off a sinking ship, etc etc . a lot of people have been unhappy with unity for a While, it has a ton of different half-finished systems in place, some of them overlapping with eachother, while people really just want them to iron things out, focus on the structural issues people have when trying to launch a game with unity (unity was actually doing something like this, they were making a whole full fledged game in unity internally and going to release it as an example project. it got cancelled because they ran into structural issues trying to launch a game with unity . )

SO, basically . long story short its complicated . a lot of the initial issues got reversed, but the fact that they thought it was a good idea in the first place reveals larger issues that are going to take a while to address and build back trust of developers again . do what you feel is best for you. i Want off the unity ship but for me its going to have to be when im in a more stable place to actually do that... some day i hope to try out godot

[yuinayumi]

I got a reply, they won’t give me the rewards LMAO

But that’s not it, it’s about the long hair incident: the long hairs making the my charas hair clip through their body

And they said…. Is basically design choice??? That they try to not make it clip but they can’t because is hard??? HUH??????

I know a bit of unity and this IS an easy fix with colliders, is not THAT hard??????? BRO???? If the characters hair clips and then you say you can’t fix it, just…DONT ADD IT IN THE FIRST PLACE UNTIL YOU KNOW HOW TO FIX IT?????

Why the switch game’s hair doesn’t clip? The arcade? The 3Ds ones? But the mobile version does??????

HUH???? *insert huh cat meme here*

I’m mad at Pripara, more like at Magisystem? Like they are doing scummy practices all the time

I love Pripara but all these incidents have kinda ruined a bit the experience for me and is sad, I’ll still try to get back to it after all of this, because Pripara is my passion, I just hope they don’t keep fucking it up over and over again and stop taking their player base for granted

[nausicaamusiclover20]

Hi, Nausicaa)) I think I have a request a bit on the darker side so I’m not sure if you write it but I’ll take a shot.

ex-boyfriend James whose idea it was to break cause the reader didn’t like his lifestyle desperate to get her back? But not in kinda toxic/ obsessive way? He keeps sending her flowers, if she goes up on a date he ruins it, he makes sure her boss makes her work with Metallica, etc, he just can’t let her go? So she finally gives up and the first thing he does when they get back together is switching her birth control pills with vitamins as a child would make her his forever? I feel like reload or SKOM era would work best?

Don’t worry, I’m a very open-minded person. For me, the important thing is that certain limits aren’t crossed. That said, I hope you like it ❤

Warnings: persistent/obsessive (not toxic) behavior, non-consensual tampering with birth control (addressed within the story), complex family and co-parenting dynamics.

Note: The story concludes character growth, healing, and apositive focus on co-parenting and family unity.

-----

Reckless love

I hadn’t seen James in six months when I started feeling his presence again. It was like he never really left, his memory haunting every corner of my life. It started subtly, just a single flower at my door, then another, then a card. 

I tried to ignore it. I tried to tell myself it didn’t matter. But deep down, I knew better. It was his way of trying to pull me back, to remind me of who we were. But I had already made the decision months ago. His lifestyle, his choices, they didn’t align with mine. I couldn’t be the woman he wanted me to be, not when I was suffocating under the weight of his selfishness.

He wasn’t toxic, not in the way people usually describe. He didn’t yell. He didn’t break things or make empty threats. He just needed. And I wasn’t enough anymore.

At least, that’s what I told myself as I threw another bouquet of roses into the trash. I wasn’t going back to him. I couldn’t. 

But James never took "no" for an answer. His love wasn’t a plea—it was a command wrapped in charm and regret. When I decided to go on a date with someone else, a quiet dinner at a local bistro, I didn’t expect to see him. I didn’t even see him at first, just a figure slipping into the corner of my peripheral vision. The date was going well. It was easy, simple, no heavy emotional baggage, just two people enjoying each other's company.

And then, out of nowhere, the glass of water I’d ordered exploded, shattering into pieces on the floor with a loud crash. I froze, my heart pounding in my chest as everyone in the restaurant turned to look.

James was standing in the doorway, a smug grin on his face.

"Sorry," he said, eyes twinkling with that mix of arrogance and charm I’d once fallen for. "I didn’t realize you were already occupied." His voice was too loud, too insistent. It was like he’d been waiting for this moment, planning it with obsessive precision. His casual stance suggested this was all part of his grand design. 

My date, a good guy, looked uncomfortable but tried to brush it off. I couldn’t, though. I couldn’t look away from James as he strolled toward us, his eyes locked onto mine.

"James," I said, my voice steady but my hands shaking. "What are you doing here?"

"Just making sure you’re alright," he replied, his tone smooth and unbothered. "Seems like you were going to need more than water to wash that taste out of your mouth." He threw a glance at my date, who had awkwardly stood up, clearly trying to process what was happening. "Sorry, man. Didn’t mean to interrupt."

The smile that followed felt like a slap to my face. It was a smile that had once melted me, made me believe his words when he said things like, I can’t live without you or You’re the only thing that matters to me. Now, it was a weapon, a hollow gesture meant to make me feel small, to make me doubt my own decisions.

Before I could say another word, my date excused himself, quietly slipping out of the restaurant. James had already won. And once again, I was left standing with my heart twisted in my chest.

The flowers continued to come. Roses, lilies, daisies—each one a reminder that James wasn’t going to let me go without a fight. But there was something else he was doing, something I couldn’t quite put my finger on. Every time I went to work, it seemed like there was a new task assigned to me—things I’d never asked for, projects that kept me at the office late into the night. And then, one day, my boss dropped the bombshell.

"You’ll be working with Metallica on the upcoming project," she said, her tone matter-of-fact. "James suggested it. He thinks you'd be perfect for the task."

I froze. Metallica? The band? No. No, it couldn’t be. But sure enough, when I walked into the office the next day, there he was, sitting in the corner with that goddamn smirk, pretending like everything was normal.

I wanted to scream, wanted to run. But I couldn’t. Not yet. He was everywhere now, like a shadow I couldn’t escape.

Time passed, and I began to wear down. Every part of me wanted to move on, to be free, but his persistence kept pulling me back. It was like trying to swim against a riptide. One day, after weeks of him subtly inserting himself into my life, I gave in. We met for coffee. It wasn’t a date. It was just a conversation, a chance to clear the air, to see if we could find some kind of common ground.

He was different, or so I told myself. Apologetic, regretful. There was no arrogance now, no charm. Just vulnerability and a plea for another chance.

"I can’t stop thinking about you," he said, voice raw, eyes pleading. "I’ve tried, believe me, I’ve tried. But every time I think about you, I know I’ve messed up, and I want to fix it. I want to make it right, for us.

I wanted to believe him. I really did. Maybe he had changed. Maybe he was the man I had once loved again. I wanted to forget the things I knew were wrong, to see only what I wanted to see.

And so, I did what I always did when I let him back in: I let him back into my life.

At first, it was slow. Small gestures. He would pick me up from work. He’d cook me dinner. We’d laugh together, reminisce about old memories. It felt like we were starting fresh.

But then, one evening, I started feeling a little off. A little more tired than usual. It had been a long week, sure, but something felt... wrong. My head was foggy, my stomach uneasy.

And then, I found it. In my purse, nestled between my wallet and the receipts, was a tiny bottle of vitamins. I frowned. I didn’t remember buying them, but I shrugged it off. I took one, trying to steady myself. The next morning, the fog hadn’t lifted. And the next, I began to notice a pattern. My birth control pills, the ones I had kept so carefully, so meticulously, were gone. Replaced with those stupid vitamins. 

I stared at the bottle, the weight of what he had done crashing down on me. James hadn’t just invaded my life again. He had crossed a line—a line that was not just about my autonomy, but my future. 

I had known, deep down, that he couldn’t let me go. But this? This was a new level of manipulation. He didn’t want to love me, not truly. He wanted to own me. And a child would ensure that I was his forever.

I confronted him that night. I didn’t shout. I didn’t cry. I simply stared at him, all the anger and hurt pouring into my eyes.

"What did you do?" I asked, my voice calm, almost too calm.

His eyes widened, but he didn’t deny it. "I... I didn’t want to lose you. I thought—"

"You thought what? That trapping me with a child would make me stay?" The words were sharper now, cutting through the fog of emotions I’d buried for months.

"I thought it was the only way. The only way to keep you with me," he whispered.

I could barely look at him. I had tried to give him the benefit of the doubt, but this? This was beyond anything I could excuse.

"You’ve crossed a line, James," I said, the weight of finality in my voice. "I can’t be with someone who sees me as nothing more than a means to an end."

He didn’t argue. He didn’t try to justify himself anymore. He just stood there, watching me walk away, finally understanding that his desperation had cost him everything.

But as I stood at the door, about to leave him behind once more, something else hit me. There was a new weight in my chest, something more than just betrayal or hurt. Something that terrified me. 

"I’m pregnant," I whispered, the words barely a breath on the air between us.

His face went pale. The realization struck both of us like a thunderclap. For a moment, neither of us spoke. We stood there, the past hanging heavy between us, and the future now uncertain.

"James..." I said softly, the truth sinking in. "I can’t keep living like this. But I can’t do this alone either."

His eyes softened, a vulnerability I had never seen before filling them. "I know," he said quietly. "I’ll do whatever it takes. For the baby. For you. I’ll respect your space, your choices... but I’ll be there. I swear."

And in that moment, something changed.   We weren’t back together in the way we once had been, but we were something new. Something that, despite the messy history, could still be rebuilt—for the baby.

The next few months weren’t easy. Every conversation was laced with the tension of everything that had come before. But there was a shift in James, a sincerity that hadn't existed before. He didn’t push for anything more than what I was willing to give, and I respected that. His actions—more than his words—spoke volumes. He showed up for appointments, helped me when I needed it, and above all, he never once tried to pull me back into a relationship I wasn’t ready for.

We talked about co-parenting, about making sure our child knew that both of us would always be there, no matter what had happened between us. He apologized, truly apologized, for everything—his actions, his manipulation, his mistakes. And while it wasn’t a perfect apology, it was enough.

The day I found out I was having a boy, I couldn’t stop myself from crying. James was with me, holding my hand, and there was a moment, just a fleeting moment, when I thought—maybe this could work. Maybe we could be a family, in the truest sense of the word, even if it wasn’t the family we once imagined.

We didn’t rush back into anything. But we shared in the moments that mattered—the first kicks, the baby shower, setting up the nursery. It wasn’t about romance. It was about creating a safe, loving space for our child, one where they would never feel the weight of our past mistakes.

And when the baby was born, tiny and perfect, the first thing James did was hold him and whisper softly, “I’ll make it up to you. I swear I will.”

I didn’t know what the future would hold for us. I didn’t know if we would ever find our way back to the kind of love we once had—or if we were meant to stay apart. But for the sake of our son, we chose to stay in each other's lives. To raise him as best as we could, with all the care and respect we could offer, despite everything that had come before.

And maybe that was enough.

As I watched James with our son, I saw a man who had changed, not because of some grand gesture or manipulation, but because of the responsibility he now felt. He wasn’t perfect. Neither was I. But in that moment, holding our child between us, it didn’t matter. We weren’t a couple anymore—but we were something even more important.

We were a family.

And maybe that was all we could ask for.

[transfemme-shelterdog]

being called a transmisogynist for saying “hey this person is intersexist and kind of a dickhead to transmascs” because the person I’m saying hey that isn’t cool about just so happens to be a trans woman and people insists there’s some ulterior motive. But then if a trans woman suggests that someone is transmisogynistic even on accident it’s all “oh it’s them TMEs at it again, TMRA, truly the men of the trans community,” like immediately.

It’s a very strange comparison but it reminds me a lot of how when a (cis) woman is outed as abusive everyone questions it until they’re blue in the face (even when there’s concrete evidence that should dispel this nuance on the table) but then when it’s a man who does it there’s no questions asked, people going “oh it’s in his nature as a man.”

Idk I wish there was more unity among trans people. I wish I didn’t have to feel like I was walking on eggshells on a 24/7 basis. I wish I didn’t have to feel like I was Betraying The Sisterhood for “choosing” the wrong type of trans. I almost cannot avoid these attitudes or these rhetorics when I’m online and I feel like I’m doomscrolling constantly when I just want to see trans joy.

I know that realistically there’s people who don’t know about this discourse and it’s an insular circle and there are good honest people that would have no questions or debates if you mention transmascs facing transphobia, they’d just nod and agree. There’s transfemmes who would rightfully take you sharing your own experiences as a moment of building connection and solidarity in shared situations rather than how insular discourse people would take it as “speaking over”.

But the loudest, the cruelest, the meanest, dominate this platform and make the discourse (especially in its most extreme forms) look like it’s far more widespread and harmful ideas like transandrophobia/transmisogyny are more commonplace. It’s the phenomenon of focussing on the bad so all you see is the bad, so all people post about is the bad. That is not to say there aren’t dickheads and jerks out there — but it’s so hard to remind yourself of what good is in a community when everyone is so focussed on the discourse.

These discussions are important but I genuinely don’t think Tumblr is a good or smart place to do it especially after the marekane incident which was fucking insane to witness. People genuinely lack literacy and 90% of their vocabulary is buzzwords and they’d rather immediately play mental gymnastics and move goalposts than engage in an actual discussion and build solidarity. I genuinely think everyone would agree much more with each other’s points if they weren’t too busy waiting for who’s gonna fire the allegorical buzzword and accusation bullet first. If you isolate these discussions outside of the internet and the internet’s tendency to fall into echo chambers and/or if you even practice good ol’ code switching you’ll find so many more people would agree with the core point of your intent and ideas even if the terms you personally use to describe it make them balk.

Anyways. “Transandrophobia as a word doesn’t deserve to exist,” with that logic transmisogyny as a word shouldn’t exist and we should all go back to the tried and true just-calling-it-transphobia because then this arbitrary discourse about who is/isn’t oppressed and who deserves/doesn’t deserve it more or whatever the fuck wouldn’t be happening.

hope I. articulated this right I am so tired.

Yeah Tingler is an absolute dogshit platform for actual discussion, as is most online platforms. It's partially why I prefer talking to people, face to face, as it's a lot easier to have actual discussions.

I also feel like most trans people IRL don't act like this, and do acknowledge that transmascs are faced with unique oppression, unlike a lot of transfems here who are determined to bury their heads in the sand and claim that trans men/mascs have it so easy

[yuurei20]

Translation from Twisted Wonderland the 2nd novel: Spelldrive Practice Match (pt 4/5)

"As Cater says, the unity of the Savanaclaw students—led by Leona—is overwhelming. With their own hastily assembled team, there is no way for them to compete.

Especially the inexperienced first-year students, who have barely ever played before.

Grim and the others have simply worn themselves out chasing after a disc that is always just above their heads. Deftly guided to where they would be at their weakest, they would find themselves isolated from their own team before they realized it.

And, once separated, there was nothing they could do but take the torment.

Spelldrive played by Leona’s team is like a hunt: efficient, elegant, and merciless. The Savanaclaw players surround their prey, toy with their targets, and laugh.

As the sun begins to set, the lights that illuminate the field cast a stark, shimmering glow on the dismal scene. Once again Grim makes rough contact with an opposing player, his small body rolling along the ground like dust blown by the wind.

‘Grim!’ Yuuya shouts toward the field. ‘Hey, are you okay?’

‘There's no way I'm okay!’ Grim yells back. He seems to still have some energy left, but his confidence from before the match is gone.

‘I can't take this anymore...Yuu, switch with me.’

‘Hey, you were the one who was the most pumped up about this…’ Ace struggles to stand but nearly topples, steadied by a hand that reaches out to save him from falling.

Just as Yuuya moves to step out onto the field, Ruggie interjects.

'Hey now. It's not cool for outsiders to interfere with a match.’

‘But everyone is so beaten up…!’

‘And?’ Ruggie mockingly tilts his head. ‘If you're serious about Spelldrive, you're gonna get worn out. Besides, injuries are part of any sport.’

‘B-but, when Grim got knocked into just now…that looked like it was on purpose.’

‘Huh? You tryin’ to say that that was our fault? I'd appreciate it if you didn't go making baseless accusations.’

Despite Yuuya gathering all his courage for this confrontation, Ruggie brushes him off without a care.

The player who ran into Grim gives a bark of laughter. ‘Yeah, that’s right!’

‘We’re practicing our tails off over here, where’s the gratitude?’

‘Damn it. They’re mocking us.’ Deuce spits brownish saliva onto the ground. He may have cut the inside of his mouth when he fell. He wipes his mouth with the back of his fist, which Cater then grabs, to stop him.

’Picking a fight would be playing right into their hands. Everyone—instead of following the disc, let’s stick to our teammates and keep ourselves safe.’

‘That’s a good strategy. If you can pull it off.,’ Leona chuckles, looking down at the frustrated group.

‘On your feet, herbivores. This barely counts as practice for our team. We need you to at least stand in as targets for the disc.’

[boundless-ut]

Here's a question I've got after reading the previous one, how much has Page changed throughout the years of development? Or has he stayed mostly the same?

Thanks for the question!

Page has seen some big changes that may not be obvious because the same general design has been used with a few modifications here and there.

(These are from 2016...old art...nooo...)

Page was always created to be a character, but in the very early days (still in the Paper Roblox Adventure era), the concept of Page only being a visual stand-in for the player in a very direct sense was considered. This was inspired by the fact that in the main Paper Roblox games, there isn't an actual player avatar, and instead you play as your own robloxian throughout.

Still during the PRA era, Page eventually started becoming an actual character rather than just a stand-in design. That isn't to say I'd be against a player envisioning themselves as Page, but in this case, instead of Page being the player, the player is Page, the same way you become Mario, or Sonic, or Frisk (putting the R back in RPG).

At this point, though, development had moved off of Roblox and onto Unity.

Considering that Page's design was intended to be a robloxian, even though it isn't one exactly, I felt that Page needed a bit of an update.

And so Page 2.0 was created! Now Page had things like fingers and feet instead of little nubs. Now, personally, I don't think there's anything necessarily wrong with this design. I think it's just fine. But it's just fine. In terms of character design, it's not really anything spectacular, is it? It's very plain, very generic. Anyone could accidentally create a character that looked like Page. A blank face, a white jumper, a red bandana, black shoes...

Insert Page 3.0! If there's anything that can improve a character design, it's a charm point! To try and make Page more obviously Page, I added a little notch to the bandana. (Actually, since Page will mostly be facing the other way during gameplay, I am going to switch which side it's on in the future)

But that's all design talk. What about Page as a person? Well, as Page developed beyond being a nameless, faceless, anonymous stand in for the actual player, Page also developed as a character. I meant it when I said Page had big baby energy. Page as a character is someone good hearted, perhaps still a bit naive, but who believes in the inherent goodness of people; the sort of person who can make friends anywhere, and values friendship and family. That isn't to say Page is a pushover, as you'll see in Boundless: The Lost Scripts! But, to embody the energy of a good-natured little hero, there is once again another slight redesign in the cards for Page, which will hopefully be revealed soon alongside your partner for the game :)!

[all-hail-trudos]

Something interesting that's come to light: Rune Factory: Guardians of Azuma is being developed in Unreal Engine. I can't find which version, but either way this is actually excellent news, since RF5 was made in Unity. I don't know how many people know this, but despite being a go-to engine until recently, Unity is a pain to optimize for the Switch by most accounts. RF5 had a number of development problems, but the choice of game engine definitely did not help. (It's also appropriate that they used a game engine favored by indie studios when it sounds like they had a really small dev team). This might sound like nerdy rambling, but hear me out. The fact that RF:GoA is being made in Unreal Engine 4 or 5 instead says two really encouraging things!

1.) This is an engine favored by larger studios with a bigger budget. Not that we don't see indie games using UE, but primarily this is what AAA studios use if they're not running on their own custom solutions. It's safe to say this is a sign that Marvelous is genuinely investing in the series and wants it to go places.

2.) Unreal Engine is without question a lot more powerful than Unity but needs more tinkering out of the box to get it running right. More importantly, it doesn't have Unity's reputation of needing a lot of finessing to work right on the Switch. Back in 2017, most UE4 games were just not coming out on Switch, because optimizing things enough to run at anything more than 12 fps was impossible. That has since changed enormously, but the key takeaway here is: If Guardians of Azuma is made in UE but is still coming to the Switch, we're 100% going to get better performance than RF5.

Also, this is much wilder speculation, but the release date of Spring 2025 coincides with when we're finally for sure getting details on the Switch 2. There's a very good chance this game is either going to get a re-release on the next gen system, or we're going to see it get a backwards compatibility patch adding DLSS which WILL FOR SURE improve performance like 100x over.

In conclusion, Guardians of Azuma has many signs that point positively to the future of the series, and to running well on the Switch and, since it deserves a place in the conversation, the Steam Deck. Solid performance on the PC is obviously a given. Just buy a GTX4090 and you'll never see less than 60fps ever again. Thank you for coming to my TED Talk.

[unhinged-summer-fun]

common grounds (oshamir) - chapter 3

Pairing: Osha Aniseya x Qimir "The Stranger"

A/N: Dividers by @firefly-graphics

series masterlist

chapter 3: switch-up

“Osha!”

Vernestra waited until she made eye contact to turn around and walk into her office. The summoning was clear to all who heard it. The Temple wasn’t exactly known for its subtlety.

“Go,” Jecki said. “I’ve got this handled, and your shift ended ten minutes ago anyway.”

Osha set down the rag she’d been using and dusted off her hands before leaving the cafe. The steel stairs to the second story shook with every step, and she wondered if there would ever be another feeling than dread that accompanied the ascent each time she made it. Vernestra was already at her desk by the time Osha knocked on the doorframe.

“Come in. Close the door, please.” This can’t be good.

Still, Osha did as she was told, and gingerly sat in the worn, padded chair in front of the desk. “Is something wrong?”

“You know Temple membership doesn’t have a non-compete clause. Members are allowed to train wherever they like. But the fact of the matter is that there have been… rumors.”

“What?”

“Rumors that you’ve been out with… less-than-reputable trainers in the city. But you should know that dipping into other forms of martial arts will only weaken your mastery in the boxing ring. I’d hate to see your injury flare again for a quick moment of feeling cool or flashy.”

Indignation flared. “Ma’am, I don’t know what you’re talking about; I only train here.”

Vernestra held up a hand, shaking her head. “This isn’t a write-up or a reprimand. You’re in a… unique position at the gym, with Sol being your father. Perception is vital in these cases, especially with competition season approaching. If we can’t show unity in force, then we may as well communicate to our competitors that we don’t stand as one.”

“But I’m not training anywhere else! I’m not even in competition anymore!”

“This isn’t a discussion, Osha. This is me letting you know that if you’re going to go behind the Temple’s back, at least do us the courtesy of being a little more discreet about it. You may go.”

“I’m—”

“You may go.”

Confusion warred with her rising emotions, making her feel a little off-balance. “I love the Temple,” Osha said weakly, but Vernestra had already started working on something else, ignoring her. Seeing that she wouldn’t be listened to, she teetered out of the office and back down the stairs.

Osha didn’t understand. Her entire life, she’d only trained at the Temple. She wanted nothing more than to follow Sol’s example—become a decorated boxing champion, a beloved and respected trainer, someone wise and good and dedicated to their passions. She’d struggled to find satisfaction in committing to boxing and boxing only, but she’d never been accused of training elsewhere.

“Everything alright?” Jecki asked once Osha emerged from around the corner.

“Yeah, I… Jecki, do you train anywhere else in the city?”

“That’s a random question.” Jecki shook her head. “I mean, sure, here and there, when everyone’s traveling for competition, or there are free skill clinics. Why?”

“And you’ve never been told you shouldn’t do that?”

Her brow furrowed. “No. There’s a lot to learn about boxing anywhere.”

“Even though you already have a mentor here?”

“Not even Sol has all the answers. He doesn’t like admitting it.” Jecki gave her a wry smile. “He knows the Temple isn’t the only gym in the city, but he generally turns a blind eye to it. Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Osha said with a sigh. “It was just a miscommunication, but… yeah, I should probably stop working so late all the time anyway. Maybe that’s what happened.”

“I’ll keep Yord away from Huyang today for you.”

“Thanks, Jecki. See you later.”

“Bye!”

Osha walked straight into a gust of bitingly cold air the second she left the cafe. Wrapping her coat tighter around herself, she let her thoughts drift like the snow the whole way home. She didn’t want to go back to the gym today, not after that strange encounter with Vernestra, but she still had a lot of that restless energy to work off.

The apartment complex had a really nice gym, complete with a heated indoor pool and a sauna. Walking between buildings in the freezing weather soaking wet after a swim sounded about as appealing as tumbling down three flights of stairs, so strength training it was. She changed in the small bathroom and put her headphones in to start a circuit on the machines, idly noting the single swimmer doing laps in the pool. Insanity. At least his shoulders look nice going by.

The burn in her upper arms and shoulders overtook the listless confusion that had plagued her since she left Vernestra’s office a half hour ago. She added more weight, relishing in the prolonged high. When it came time to work on her calves, she halted.

I’m sure you still have your old PT records, follow those exercises about thirty minutes a day.

Osha didn’t like sitting still. She had no patience to hold a plank or a wall sit for ten minutes. Her post-op physical therapist had been less than enthused by her insistence on doing reps, not holds. Sol didn’t like seeing her sit still, either. When Osha got back into boxing after everything, he’d worry about her holding a stretch for too long. He only thought she’d recovered when he saw her running again, seven months after surgery. The sense of familial camaraderie between her and him had been worth every agonizing step.

But the pain in her ankle had been flaring lately, and she still felt a worrying amount of weakness whenever she moved too fast. She couldn’t trust her body to take care of her, at least not how she used to.

Understand where your pain is. Numbing yourself to it only hides it when you’re trying to get rid of it.

Ugh. That damn stranger wouldn’t leave her mind. Still, she wanted to know if he had a point.

After going through her email archive to find her PT notes, she chose a few to try out. And if they felt silly, at least nobody would see her. The lone swimmer looked absorbed in his exercise, lost in his own world behind the glass separating the gym from the pool. Still, Osha closed her eyes and let herself rise up onto her toes, holding a calf raise for a thirty-count.

It burned deeper in her muscles than what the machines or the classes did for her. It set in faster, and by 25, 26, 27, the pain in her left ankle almost had her tapping early. But she finished the count. She sank back onto her heels, hissing at the redoubled ache in her Achilles. “Shit,” she said in a breathless laugh. She reached down to rub at the skin on either side of the purple surgery scar, and when she stood up again—

The swimmer was coming out of the water.

The stranger was coming out of the water.

He didn’t notice her, which was good because she was basically ogling him as he left the pool. In her opinion, the baggy hoodies had done the world a great disservice. The bare glimpse of the man’s forearm the night they met was enough to send her head spinning if she thought about it too long, but looking at the rest of him threatened to upend her entire world.

His shoulders held strength to them that felt evident even from a distance, even behind a pane of sweaty glass. That strength, by comparison, made Osha’s already weak knees weaker. The luscious curve of his wet biceps and triceps—fighter’s arms—caught the light the way her breath caught in her throat.

Not even the unflattering fluorescent bulbs would dare betray his muscle tone, making him look god-like down to the hollow of his throat and the shadows beneath his defined pectorals. Was it getting hotter in here? Droplets of water continued to cascade down every dip and valley of his body, pulling her focus down, down, those were his hips, and holy fuck she needed to remember how to breathe—

“Your rest is over; up on your toes again.” His voice came out a little warped and tinny through the glass, but it was definitely him. Osha startled at being caught, going up on her toes instinctually at his instruction. She met his eyes through the glass, finding him grinning at her. “Thirty-count, Osha.”

He walked off to the side where she couldn’t see him, and it was like all of the air finally returned to the room from where he stole it. It took all her willpower to hold the position, and through that effort she found she wasn’t worried at all about the situation. She saw the amenities access band on his wrist—he was a resident just like her.

28, 29—

“Down.”

Her breath left her in a rush as she dropped to her heels, turning to face him. She hadn’t even heard the door open. His stealth wasn’t a slight on her awareness; he could get under any radar and stay there. “I didn’t know you lived here.”

“Suppose we were following each other home last night.” His dark eyes dipped down her body and back up in a second. It filled her blood with fire. “I thought that was you when you walked in. Couldn’t really see with my head in the water.”

“I couldn’t tell it was you.”

“Yeah, well. I don’t often practice backstroke.” He shrugged and drifted closer. He’d put on black shoes, loose black pants, and a white shirt. It looked entirely too casual for the gym—better suited for lounging around a seaside resort or something. But he wore it all comfortably. These clothes didn’t swallow him up the way the hoodie did. She could still see his defined muscles through the shirt. “How’s your ankle feeling?”

“It burns a little.”

“One to ten?”

“Like a four? Maybe?”

“Is it a four, or is it not?” His assertive, no-nonsense voice felt like touching a static-charged doorknob. She stood up straighter. “What’s your usual level of pain?”

“Isn’t that kind of a personal question? I mean, we’re basically strangers.”

He crossed his arms and leaned back against the nearest machine. “Well, I suppose there’s two options, then. You either tell me to fuck off, or you ask me whatever questions you have to assuage your doubts about me.”

Tension rose in the space between them. Those two words, crass and short, sat comfortably on her tongue like always. Fuck off. Even if those chance meetings were simply coincidence, Osha was certain that if she told him to leave her alone, he would. With how he’s carefully controlling his face, he doesn’t want her to know just how dismayed he’d be if she told him to fuck off. The bare flicker of tenderness in his eyes is what sealed her decision.

“I’ve been at a four daily since the snow started falling. It’s maybe two points higher now since I started exercising.”

His lips curled into a smile, and so did hers.

“Your rest is over, Osha. Up on your toes.”

He was patient. He angled himself beside her to see the list of exercises her PT team had prescribed to her, reading off her phone. He murmured through explanations of the movements she’d suffered the monotony of, and made them sound interesting. This close, she could see how his hair still slightly dripped from the pool, darkening the white of his shirt whenever droplets dove into it.

And when she did the exercises for him, his focus never wavered. His attention was that of an eagle’s, offering brief corrections but never touching her. “Higher,” he said. “Until it burns. Don’t stop—no, straighten out. Good.”

He had her go through her full range of motion. Occasionally, he’d have her repeat certain movements, and then he had her show him how she stretched. The way he watched her made her feel naked, but still, he never touched her, and she never even took off her socks.

“Thank you, Osha.”

“What are you thanking me for?” She took a long drink from her water bottle and picked up her gym bag, preparing for the walk back to her building.

“For trusting me. I knew you were in pain, and it’s… if I’m honest, it’s been worrying me in my spare time and thoughts.”

“I’ve been on your mind?” She didn’t mean it to come out that way, of course. Still, the moment she realized how it sounded, she couldn’t bring herself to regret it.

He did not shy from it, letting his lips curve into another slow smile while his eyes traced her form. “Can you blame me?”

She exhaled slowly, trying to shake the slight discomfort his appraisal gave her. “You’re a… mysterious man.”

“I’m an open book.”

“I doubt that—”

“For you.”

Osha pulled up short, midway through zipping up her jacket. The stranger closed distance with her as she stood in front of the door. Like this, they mimicked how they had stood in the darkened shop the last two nights. Her, looking up at him, a cold wall to one side.

“If there’s anything you want to know about me, I’ll tell you. That’s not something I offer to anybody.”

“Does my sister have carte blanche like I do?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“I’ve known her two years and she didn’t trust me enough to hear the truth when I spoke it. Why would I let someone in if all they’d do is call my life a lie?”

His assessment of Mae disquieted her. Mae was a kind girl and a sharp fighter—a great sister. When Sol had taken them in, she hadn’t trusted him for a while either, but eventually her opinion had changed. “Did you give her reasons not to trust you?”

“I gave her what she needed from me. Trust was never part of that. But… this is really something that you should talk to her about. What did she say when you asked her about me?”

“She wouldn’t say much. I was planning on asking her tonight.”

“Then do that. If you have any other questions about it, you can ask, but you should trust your sister first.” Don’t trust me blindly, his eyes said.

“Alright. I’ll ask her first.”

“What else do you want to know?”

Quite the powerful question. Osha didn’t know where to start. “If I asked about the first night we met, would you tell me it was coincidence?”

“Would you believe me if I told you it was?”

“If that was the truth.”

The stranger’s eyes glittered with amusement, a muscle in his jaw flexing as he thought over her words. “The first time, yes. The second time, no. I wanted to see you again.”

Osha’s heart did flips in her chest, a desperate translation of what her mind was doing. “What do you want from me?”

“I…” His brow furrowed. “That’s a very complicated answer.”

“It could be. Or it couldn’t.”

“The list of reasons why is ever-growing, but at the top of it, I want you to trust me enough that I might help you the way I know how to.”

The motion sensors in the gym lobby cut the lights from their lack of movement, plunging them both into half-darkness.

“And why do you want to help me?”

“I know what it’s like to be cast aside for an injury that wasn’t your fault.”

Osha’s face fell, heart dropping into her gut. “That’s—that’s not what happened. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

If she didn’t know better, she would have said he looked almost… disappointed. “You’re right,” he said, pulling the hood of his jacket over his head. “Sorry about that.” He smiles at her, a toothy grin that doesn’t really meet his eyes. “Ask your sister who I am. Maybe you’ll take the fuck off option next time I offer it.”

With that, he disappeared in a swirl of snow for the third time.

CHAPTER FOUR